Don’t Go to Harvard for STEM: Malcolm Gladwell’s Warning Explained

Malcolm Gladwell’s warning explained (Image credit: Getty)

For years, science students have been taught a simple equation: the harder it is to get into the institute, the brighter the future that awaits them outside. The assumption is so profound that it can seem almost heretical to question it. But Malcolm Gladwell – a Canadian journalist, author and speaker – was never particularly interested in calming his ambition. He is more interested in the question of what ambition does to people when it collides with reality.That’s why his latest warning – blunt, uncomfortable and aimed directly at elite universities – struck a nerve.“If you are interested in succeeding in an educational institution, you never want to be in the bottom half of your class. It’s too hard,” Malcolm Gladwell said on a recent episode of the “Hasan Minhaj Doesn’t Know” podcast, according to a Fortune report. “So you should go to Harvard if you think you can be in the top quarter of your class at Harvard.” That’s okay. But don’t go there if you want to be at the bottom of the class. Are you doing STEM? You’ll just get out,” he added.He also recommended that students consider second or third choice institutions instead. In his opinion, these are places where young aspirants are more likely to rise to the top rather than struggle on the sidelines.What makes the comment even more poignant is that it is not new. Gladwell has been making the same point for years: Persistence in STEM depends on both where you stand in the room and how smart you are.“If you want to get a degree in science and math, don’t go to Harvard,” Gladwell also said in a Google Zeitgeist talk in 2019, Fortune reports. “Persistence in science and math is not just a function of your cognitive abilities,” . “It’s a function of your relative standing in your class. It’s a function of your class rank,” he added.It’s a sentence that sounds provocative, almost reckless. But Gladwell isn’t attacking Harvard University. He questions something much more fundamental: whether a prestigious academic environment helps most science students persevere long enough to succeed.

Why Gladwell keeps sounding the alarm: The “big fish, small pond” problem.

Malcolm Gladwell’s argument was always about psychology, about what happens in students long before grades translate into careers. When he warns science students not to find themselves at the bottom of elite classrooms, he is not making a comment about intelligence or effort. He describes a pattern of behavior that he believes silently determines who perseveres and who gives up. In highly competitive academic environments, Gladwell said, students do not measure themselves against global standards or long-term potential. They compete with the peers they see every day. And this comparison, repeated over semesters, begins to shape identity.His claim is clear: When capable students within an elite cohort continually feel “below average,” the psychological costs add up. The struggle begins to feel like inadequacy. Temporary difficulties seem like permanent unsuitability – especially in the STEM field, where initial coursework is rigid and unyielding.This idea was previously formalized in his 2013 book “David and Goliath,” drawing on what researchers call “relative deprivation” and the big fish, little pond effect. Gladwell argued that people gain confidence, motivation, and persistence not by being objectively exceptional, but by feeling competent in their immediate environment. A student who is a big fish in a smaller or moderately competitive environment may develop stronger academic confidence than an equally talented student who is a small fish in an elite tank.Viewed from this perspective, Gladwell’s advice sounds less like provocation and more like consequence. The recent podcast commentary, the 2019 talk, and the 2013 book are variations on the same claim: Talent doesn’t fail alone; It fails in contexts where people are tacitly convinced that they are failing. For science students whose path requires more perseverance than initial brilliance, the environment they choose can be as important as the skills they bring with them.

“Don’t go to Harvard” can also be bad advice for some

Gladwell’s warning is useful—but only if it is read as a way of thinking rather than a rule to be followed.For one thing, elite campuses can really deliver. They offer comprehensive research ecosystems, greater access to labs, higher levels of funding, and networks that can open doors early—sometimes before a student has even figured out what kind of scientist they want to become. And for some students, the intensity doesn’t suck; it is catalytic. A high-performing peer group can raise standards, sharpen discipline, and make excellence feel normal rather than extraordinary.Then there is the age problem. The “top quarter” test sounds crucial, but at 17 it’s often a guess. Many students misjudge the fit in both directions. Some arrive convinced that they will dominate and quickly realize that everyone, somewhere, has been a frontrunner. Others come in feeling underqualified and surprising themselves – not because they were secretly brilliant, but because they found the right support, the right mentors and the right rhythm.So Gladwell is best interpreted as a stress test rather than a prophecy:

Reading Gladwell Properly: A Difficult Balancing Act for Students

On paper it can seem like we are contradicting ourselves. We say that elite universities can help, but also that they can harm. But that tension is the point. Gladwell offers no clear rule. It highlights a risk that is easy to ignore when we are blinded by brand names.Context is more important today than it was a few years ago. In 2025 and 2026, a STEM degree is no longer the goal people imagine. It is more similar to an entry pass and what differentiates students is the proof they carry. The World Economic Forum Future of Jobs 2025 Report depicts the 2025-2030 period as a churn cycle in which a large proportion of skills will change and adaptability will become a currency in the workplace. The PwC 2025 Global AI Jobs Barometer adds a sharper twist: In AI-vulnerable roles, skills are changing more quickly, and employers are also relaxing degree requirements more quickly than before.So the modern science student is running two races at the same time. One is in the classroom – grades, exercises, curves, sorting courses. The other is outside of that – projects, internships, research stays, tools, portfolio, AI knowledge. The second race quietly depends on something we don’t talk about enough: mental bandwidth.This is where Gladwell’s warning begins to make sense without turning into dogma. When an elite environment continually pushes a student into the bottom half, it’s not just that they’re at risk of switching out of STEM fields. They may be too exhausted to provide the additional proof of work that today’s STEM positions expect. In other words, the cost isn’t just academic. It is cumulative.But it’s also true that elite campuses can achieve things – sometimes spectacularly. The laboratories are deeper, the funding is more dense, the networks extend further. For many students, the environment with their peers is not oppressive, but rather catalytic. You pick up the pace and the pressure becomes productive.The right way to read Gladwell, then, is not a ban on prestige. It’s about fit and especially pipelines. The real question for science students is no longer: Is this university famous? It is: Will I get early access to the type of work that will make me employable?This usually means:

If Prestige expands these options, it may be worth it. If prestige weakens a student’s confidence so early that they stop building, it can quietly backfire.In 2025-26, choosing a university doesn’t just mean choosing a pond. It’s about choosing a pipeline—one that allows a science student to continue building competence, visibility, and resilience, even on days when they’re not the smartest person in the room.