In this post, Dr Avita Rath explores the topic of emotional labour, and its impact for those working in Higher Education. Avita is a year 3 distance learning student (MSc Clinical Education↗️) at Edinburgh Medical School. This post belongs to the Hot Topic theme: Critical insights into contemporary issues in Higher Education.
Beyond the “Service Smile”
Behind the carefully crafted smiles, the reassuring words, and the meticulously managed demeanour lies a silent toll, a heavy burden we carry. In academia, we’re often expected to suppress our true selves, conform to a narrow definition of “professionalism,” and mask the real emotions that shape our experiences. This unseen, rarely acknowledged labour is a storm brewing beneath the surface of our work, threatening to drown us in a sea of burnout and exhaustion.
As sociologist Arlie Russell Hochschild (1983) famously coined it, emotional labour is the invisible work of managing our emotions to meet the demands of our job. It’s about regulating our feelings and expressions, often at the cost of our well-being.
While emotional labour has been studied extensively in various fields, it’s often overlooked in higher education. Why? Because we tend to conflate it with professionalism, viewing it as a natural and expected part of the job rather than a form of labour that needs to be recognised and compensated. This is particularly true in the context of marketisation, which has transformed universities into “service institutions,” where academics are increasingly expected to cater to the needs of students and stakeholders.
This “professionalism,” however, can be a double-edged sword. It often involves suppressing genuine emotions and conforming to a set of unrealistic expectations. As Ogbonna and Harris (2004) noted, the “professional” persona academics are expected to project can create a “gap” between their true selves and their public performances.
A personal journey and a broader truth
As a neurodivergent woman in a predominantly Asian academic setting, I’ve experienced this gap firsthand. The cultural taboo surrounding emotional expression, particularly for women, combined with the pressure to conform to a narrow definition of “professionalism,” created a sense of alienation and isolation. I often felt like I was performing a role, hiding my true self behind a carefully constructed mask.
Imagine, for a moment, the demanding life of a dental academic like myself, or any academic for that matter: you’re expected to be a skilled clinician, a mentor, a teacher, a researcher, and a leader – all at once. This constant pressure to excel in multiple areas fuels the need for emotional management, often at a significant cost.
This emotional strain is not simply a personal experience. It’s a pervasive issue within academia. A recent Nature poll and HEPI policy papers (Forrester, 2023; Morrish, 2021) found that 67% of academics are burned out, with counselling and occupational referrals rising by more than 100% over the past two years. This suggests that emotional labour is not just a personal challenge but a systemic problem within academia that affects our wellbeing and our ability to thrive. Moreover, the rise of “quiet quitting” – where academics are disengaging from their work by reducing their output and limiting their involvement – is another alarming sign of the impact of emotional labour in academia.
As Shuler (2007) aptly points out, “[as] scholars and practitioners… we often write as if WE are not also engaging in emotional labor” (p. 255). This is the core of the issue. Emotional labour is often seen as an intrinsic part of “caring” professions (Grandey et. al., 2013), yet it’s rarely acknowledged or valued. It is treated as an expected part of the job rather than a form of labour that needs to be recognised and compensated.
The consequences of ignoring this ‘work’ in academia appear to be significant. It can lead to burnout, decreased job satisfaction, and even mental and physical health problems that eventually affect the quality of teaching and student well-being (Berry & Cassidy, 2013; Abery & Gunson 2016). We need to change how we think about emotional labour, recognise its impact, and stop this cascade of worrying reactions.
Moreover, as Bellas and Krupnick (2007) found, this burden is disproportionately weighted on women. Women are often socialised to be more emotionally expressive and nurturing. These societal expectations can lead to a “double bind” for women in academia, who are expected to be both caring and competent but are often penalised for displaying their genuine emotions. This double bind is further intensified for neurodivergent women in academia, who may face additional pressures and stigmas due to the often pervasive cultural taboos against neurodiversity.
A call to action: Valuing emotional well-being in academia
To create a more sustainable and equitable academic environment, we need to:
- Acknowledge emotional labour: Universities need to openly acknowledge the emotional labour that academics undertake and recognise its importance in the performance of educators.
- Promote well-being: Universities should offer programs and workshops focusing on emotional intelligence, self-care, and academic stress management.
- Foster open dialogue: Encouraging open communication and fostering a culture of mutual respect and understanding among faculty members can create a more supportive environment that helps to alleviate emotional distress.
- Reduce administrative burdens: Universities should strive to reduce the administrative burden on academics, allowing them to focus more on teaching and research.
- Embrace neurodiversity: Universities should actively promote neurodiversity and create a more inclusive and supportive environment for neurodivergent academics.
Embracing change for a “hopeful” future
We can move towards a future where academic institutions recognise the human cost of emotional labour. A future where universities prioritise the emotional well-being of their faculty, creating a more supportive and inclusive environment for all. A future where we can move beyond the “service smile” and embrace the full range of our emotions, bringing our authentic selves to our work.
This future is within reach. By demanding change, fostering a more empathetic and compassionate approach to academia, and advocating for a world where emotional labour is recognised, valued, and addressed, we can begin to create a more just and equitable academic environment.
References
Abery, B., & Gunson, C. (2016). This paper applies Berry and Cassidy’s Higher Education Emotional Labour model to the management of extension requests in a short space of time in a large, first year Health Sciences topic. International Journal of Allied Health Sciences Education, 6(1), 22–26.
Bellas, M. L., & Krupnick, C. G. (2007). The Costs of Caring: Examining the Relationship Between Gender, Emotional Labor, and Burnout. Journal of Women and Social Work, 22(4), 381-395.
Berry, K., & Cassidy, S. (2013). Emotional Labour in University Lecturers: Considerations for Higher Education Institutions. International Journal of Curriculum and Teaching, 2, 1-21.
Forrester, V. (2023). Fed up and burnt out: ‘quiet quitting’ hits academia. Nature, 615, 751-753.
Grandey, A., Rupp, D. E. & Diefendorff, J. 2013. Emotional labor in the 21st century: diverse perspectives on the psychology of emotion regulation at work, Routledge.
Morrish, L. 2021. Emotional Labour in the Post-Pandemic Academy. Available from: https://postpandemicuniversity.net/2021/10/31/emotional-labour-in-the-post-pandemic-academy/.
Ogbonna, E., & Harris, L. C. (2004). Work Intensification and Emotional Labour among UK University Lecturers: An Exploratory Study. Organization Studies, 25, 1185-1203.
Shuler, S. (2007). Autoethnographic Emotion: Studying and Living Emotional Labor in the Scholarly Life. Women’s Studies in Communication, 30, 255-283.
Avita Rath
Dr Avita Rath is a year 3 distance learning student (MSc Clinical Education↗️) at Edinburgh Medical School, The University of Edinburgh. She is also a senior lecturer, academic coordinator and periodontist at the Faculty of Dentistry, SEGi University, Malaysia. She is a Common Wealth scholar, a Fellow in Advance Higher Education, UK (FHEA), and an Association of Medication Education in Europe (AMEE) member. Some of her research interests include equity, diversity and inclusivity issues in health professional education, mindfulness in dental education, and student engagement concepts. . She would like to thank Professor Gill Aitken, her Master’s supervisor, without who she would never been acquainted of this ‘invisible’ work that led to this blog post.