We live in an age where information is instantly accessible, with near-limitless knowledge available at our fingertips. At no point in history has so much information been within immediate reach. This unprecedented access has sparked important conversations about the relevance of traditional educational structures—and even the role of higher education itself. In 2022, Inside Higher Ed highlighted a study from Morning Consult that measured public trust in higher education. Their study of four generations revealed that Gen Z (born 1999-2015; currently ages 10-26) was the least likely to trust higher education.
With endless information at their disposal, Gen Z also reports feeling overwhelmed and uncertain about their future. Jonathan Haidt unpacked the causes, severity, and possible corrections of this dire situation in his landmark work, The Anxious Generation. Studies indicated that 42% of Gen Z individuals have been diagnosed with a mental health condition, with anxiety and depression being the most common. Additionally, 70% report symptoms of stress and anxiety, and 64% say their mental health has been a significant source of stress in the past year.1 This paradox—having all the information yet feeling lost—highlights a critical need for wisdom and relational guidance that is inaccessible through search engines or AI.
In my own context at a Christian higher education institution, I sense a subtle yet distinct cry for help, and studies confirm that I’m not hearing things. Recent research from the Barna group highlights the increase in a spiritually curious outlook from young people. Campus movements are on the rise, with college students longing to find purpose, hope, and connection. More than ever, students are not only looking for answers; studies show they are asking questions about faith at higher rates than students in previous decades.
As Christian universities attempt to adjust to this reality, along with an ever-changing job market and the normalization of generative AI, tough questions emerge about the traditional roles of faculty and how to (re)define a distinctively Christ-centered model of higher education. Amid the buffet-style array of curated experiences and amenities offered by a residential Christian university, we may be in danger of overlooking the most essential offering of all: ourselves. While smaller class sizes and one-on-one attention have long been a hallmark of the Christian university experience, this present moment is calling us to reevaluate and recommit to the student-faculty relationship as we encounter students in a more vulnerable, uncertain, and curious state than previous generations.
To Know and Be Known
Our students are asking questions—much deeper questions than we often realize; existential questions rooted in matters of faith and worldview. This desire to know appears to transcend the often-assumed transactional model of higher education, where students and families—viewed as consumers—seek a return on investment through knowledge, connections, memorable experiences, future opportunities, and a credential. It should come as no surprise that, in an era of infinite knowledge and information, emerging adults are sensing a need (in record numbers) for truth, wisdom, and experience that is often found in relationship.2
Students are seeking voices that speak truth in and about their own lives—their unique stories, challenges, and journeys unfolding right in front of their professors. A question that seems to occupy the minds of emerging adults is not “what do you know?” but rather “what do you see?” That is, “what do you see in me?” Our students are searching not only for answers but for voices that will call out (Lat., vocare) of them that which they cannot see but that which God has placed deep within them.
Students want to know whether faculty are willing to do the hard, messy work—not just of teaching their disciplines or advancing their careers, but of stepping into the realities students face, learning their stories, and helping them write a better one. They not only want to know; they also want to be known—not in a prideful, attention-seeking way. Rather, they want to be seen as more than a student ID number or social media profile; they long to make a difference and contribute positively to society. Now, we are faced with the question: “How do I help students do that?” and that will be our focus in the second part of this two-part series.
- See various summaries of the studies: https://www.aecf.org/blog/generation-z-and-mental-health.