In 2025, a study conducted by Mental Health UK indicated that over 70% of students reported moderate to high stress levels, with almost one-third reporting frequent burnout symptoms. We’ve all been there – emotionally drained, overwhelmed, and feeling unable to meet constant demands due to the excessive stress and exhaustion of student life. Hustle culture manifests in university settings; the mindset equates busyness with productivity, where the glorification of long study hours, constant productivity and over commitment clash with other obligations and extracurricular aspects of student life. Productivity norms are embedded in us, in a world that often “equates arduous work with virtue, and rest with laziness”. Laziness must be reframed as rest; resisting these norms of toxic productivity is essential for student mental health and sustainable learning Being busy is often celebrated at university. Hustle culture appears in everyday conversations, whether it’s about late nights out, long nights in the library, or juggling part-time work alongside studies. It can begin to feel like a competition – who can work the most? Who can say yes to the most commitments? Who can show up for absolutely everything without ever admitting they have filled their cup a little too much? Some individuals probably embrace this busy lifestyle and have time management and productivity down to a T, but at its core, this culture promotes the idea that a student’s worth lies more in their productivity than their wellbeing. Some may say that constant networking, side hustles and always saying yes are signs of ambition – but just as often, they are driven by pressure and the need to stay productive. I have often treated rest as a reward – refusing to leave the library until I have accomplished “enough” for that day. While the mindset can be motivating, it can also make choosing rest can feel like failure – something to be earned rather than something we inherently deserve. Toxic productivity has characterised a fair amount of my university experience – driven by a mixture of a need academic validation, external pressures, undiagnosed ADHD, and a constant fear of falling perpetually behind. At one point, I felt guilty for reading purely for pleasure, believing that my time would be “better” spent tackling my course reading list. This never ending cycle of overwork and academic striving made any moment of rest feel like indulgence, and the pervasive culture of toxic productivity meant that taking time off becomes a source of stress. I have come to realise that this mindset is never truly motivating. Rest can take the form of small acts of self-kindness – doing things you enjoy simply to relieve the pressure of academic life. Choosing to pause and taking time to rest can be a powerful act of reclaiming your peace of mind. Productivity is often praised, but the psychological consequences of constant busyness are rarely acknowledged. Take the “Yerkes Dodson Law”– it demonstrates the “stress performance curve”, a model which shows that when stress exceeds a certain threshold, performance declines. The UK charity Student Minds, which focuses specifically on student mental health, emphasises the importance of carving out time beyond academic responsibilities. Their online resources consistently promote habits relating to rest or shifting one’s focus, like establishing a healthy sleep routine, engaging in enjoyable activities and staying physically active. After all, chronic productivity can impair memory and concentration – excessive stress only makes it harder to retain information and concentrate. Tricia Hersey offers a powerful perspective importance of rest, challenging the dominant narrative of productivity at all costs by framing rest as a healing practice. Through her organisation, she explores the liberating power of naps as a communal, intentional practice aimed at helping to deprogram the masses from “grind culture”. She describes this movement as an antidote to widespread issues that plague communities – exhaustion, chronic disease and mental health crises – problems she links to systems of capitalism white supremacy. Here, rest is not merely an act of self-care but a radical form of protest. It recoils against the capitalist and racist systems that have conditioned individuals to measure their worth by their productivity extent. Hersey’ work also draws historical connections, mentioning the commodification of Black bodies during the transatlantic slave trade and its ongoing physical legacy. Napping becomes an act of reclamation, and a way to resist, heal and assert humanity. This radical reimagining of rest invites us to see rest as an act of self-preservation and resistance. When students begin to see rest as a necessarily foundation for clarity, focus and long-term success, this challenges the norms that equate exhaustion with academic excellence. If we re-think what success means to us we can strike a practical balance between health and purpose, meaning rest becomes more than a break from work but a way of living with intention.