Friday Forward - Accommodation Exploitation (#523)
Excellence never comes from prebuilt excuses. It comes from high expectations, paired with high support
As I continue researching my next book, one headline from the past few weeks has caught my eye. Nearly 40 percent of undergraduates at Stanford University now receive academic accommodation for some form of registered disability.
That’s not a typo. Four out of ten students at one of the world’s most elite universities receive special exemptions. In comparison, MIT reports accommodation for about 8 percent of students, and community colleges report rates closer to 4 or 5 percent.
It seems unlikely that Stanford has such a massive concentration of students with disabilities relative to other universities. Instead, a more plausible diagnosis is that Stanford is far more permissive about what constitutes an accommodation-worthy disability and striving students are now exploiting the system.
Stanford is an extreme example of a broader trend. In 2004, roughly 10 percent of college students reported a disability, but that number climbed to 20 percent by 2020. As with the increased prevalence of mental illness diagnoses, some of that is due to greater awareness and reduced stigma. But that doubling in less than 20 years probably isn’t explained simply by increased awareness.
The truth is that parents today have normalized making requests for accommodation and exemption at any opportunity, increasingly viewing their child’s struggles as a sign of illness or disability that must be managed. In many classrooms, teachers are juggling accommodation plans, sensory tools, and modified deadlines before a lesson even begins. Maybe that is why K-12 teachers have the highest burnout rate of any profession.
What began as a compassionate, necessary effort to support students with genuine needs has gradually evolved into an easily exploitable system. The threshold for what qualifies as hardship keeps falling, and the list of reasons for flexibility keeps expanding.
This dynamic is visible beyond disabilities. For example, a recent essay by a Stanford student in The Times described classmates claiming Jain religious identity not out of actual belief, but because the religion’s strict dietary practices allow students to bypass the university’s $7,944 mandatory meal plan. The essay claimed students are using the exemption to redirect dining funds to shop at places like Whole Foods.
If this is true, then a policy intended to support genuine religious observance is now being exploited as a way to buy expensive groceries. This gaming of the system is not hidden; it is considered savvy.
When children and teenagers are taught that discomfort signals a need to change the environment, rather than themselves, that mindset becomes hard to escape. At college and in the workplace, they expect the world to adjust to them; that standards should be flexible and deadlines should be optional.
To be clear, accommodation is vital for those who would be truly left behind without it. But it’s reasonable to argue that Stanford, whether through weak oversight, misaligned incentives, or student appeasement, is giving these benefits to people who don’t need them.
Furthermore, this status quo puts many disabled students at a relative disadvantage, forcing them to compete against students who enjoy the same benefits without the same needs. Gaming the system has a price, even if someone else has to pay it.
We often speak about the lack of moral leadership in politics or business. But should we ask whether we have moral leadership at home, and in our academic institutions? Parents are leaders too, and effective leadership is not about seeking exemptions to clear every obstacle. It is about helping others build the strength to face challenges.
Excellence never comes from prebuilt excuses. It comes from high expectations, paired with high support. When we misrepresent our children’s needs, or coach our kids to find loopholes, we are not helping them long term. We are preparing them to fail when life doesn’t eventually adjust on their behalf.
The numbers coming out of Stanford are a warning. When a world-class university attended by the brightest, most privileged students in the world normalizes avoidance, it sends a troubling message about what we value and what we enable.
A culture built on avoidance and exemptions will see short-term comfort give way to long-term fragility. What if we stopped asking how to make things easier and encouraged people to meet high expectations?
Quote of the Week
“Prepare the child for the road, not the road for the child.” – Folk Wisdom
Have a great weekend!
-Bob
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“Strong steel is forged in the hottest fire.” I remember how hard it was to stop myself from stepping in whenever my kids were facing adversity. One of our running jokes was when they’d ask me how to spell something—I’d just say, “D‑I‑C‑T‑I‑O‑N‑A‑R‑Y!”
Great piece, Robert. I wonder if the break down in community hastened by (if not caused by) social media is at the heart of this trend. Families, in their growing isolation, have a mindset of “my child against the world” instead of “my child with the world.” I would love your thoughts on the deeper origins of this trend.