After a particularly rough term in high school, my mom tried to comfort me by saying, “When you fail, you learn more.” I replied, “Then I must be a genius!” Cheeky, yes—but she wasn’t wrong. In fact, research shows that productive failure plays a vital role in how we learn. In the classroom, however, the fear of failure often prevents students from taking risks, asking questions, or engaging deeply, especially in higher education, where grades and perfection are prized. So, how can we shift this narrative and build a classroom culture where failure is seen not as defeat, but as a powerful learning tool?

In higher education, we see the fear of failure playing out daily. Grades are emphasized, and high achievers are rewarded with accolades and awards. This mindset is deeply ingrained in many students by the time they reach college. As a result, some shy away from unfamiliar subjects or challenging courses, not because they lack interest, but because they fear they won’t get an A. Others enter required classes like writing or math already convinced they’ll do poorly, often due to a single negative experience in the past.

The Freshman Fear Factor 

This fear is especially pronounced in first-year students. As Bridget noted in her discussion of David Kirp’s work, and as Kevin explored in his analysis of imposter syndrome, many freshmen arrive on campus already burdened by self-doubt. Whether due to interrupted schooling during COVID or broader societal pressures, these students often carry a profound fear of failure into the classroom. This fear often limits not only their ability to be successful, but also affects their mental health. 

So how can we, as educators, create learning environments where failure is not feared but embraced? 

Destigmatizing Failure in the Classroom 

In many classrooms, failure is still stigmatized as something “bad.” Students often interpret a low grade as a reflection of their self-worth rather than an opportunity to grow. But what if we could shift that narrative? 

In the Freakonomics episode “Failure Is Your Friend”, psychologist Gary Klein introduces the concept of a pre-mortem. Unlike a post-mortem, which analyzes what went wrong after a project fails, a pre-mortem asks participants to imagine—before the project even begins—that it has failed. Then, they brainstorm all the possible reasons why. 

In business, this technique helps teams identify blind spots and reduce overconfidence. But could it also work in the classroom? 

Years ago, while teaching an online graduate research methods course, I introduced a discussion activity that, unbenonced to me used this concept. Each time I taught the class I found that I spent much of the course helping students understand that they were not alone in their fears and anxiety and also assuring them that we would overcome those obstacles together. As an icebreaker activity I had students watch a clip from Mr. Bean Goes to the Library—a humorous take on academic anxiety—and then share what they were most nervous about before starting the class. Their responses ranged from fears about writing skills to concerns about understanding the material. The humor helped lower the stakes, and the activity created a space where students could voice their fears without judgment.  

From what we know from studies discussed by David L. Kirp in “Conquering the Freshmen Fear of Failure” community building around these fears can have a long range impact on not only a student’s sense of belonging, but also their willingness to persist through obstacles. 

Could you build similar opportunities into your own classroom? Perhaps before a major exam, project, or presentation, you could invite students to reflect on what might go wrong—and how they might respond. This not only normalizes fear but also empowers students to plan for and learn from potential setbacks. 

De-Emphasizing Grades: The Case for Contract Grading 

One powerful way to create a safe space for failure is to rethink how we assess student work. Contract grading is a system that shifts the focus from outcomes to process. Instead of assigning points or letter grades to every assignment, students agree to complete a set of tasks at a defined level of quality to earn a particular grade.  

This approach emphasizes effort, revision, and reflection over perfection. It encourages students to take risks, try new approaches, and learn from mistakes without the constant pressure of numerical evaluation. Instructors provide feedback that supports growth rather than judgment, and students focus on mastering skills rather than chasing points. A de-emphasis on grades can be just the thing to help those students whose fear is based on a bad prior experience to finally be successful. 

Contract grading also aligns with the idea of failure as a learning tool. When students know that their grade depends on consistent engagement and improvement—not on getting everything “right” the first time—they’re more likely to experiment, ask questions, and embrace challenges. 

Modeling Failure as an Instructor 

Theresa MacPhail, a professor at Stevens Institute of Technology, took the idea of modeling failure even further by designing an entire course on failure. In her interview with Stephen Dubner, she describes how she openly shares her own failures with students—whether it’s forgetting her notes or encouraging them to fact-check her lectures. One of the most powerful pieces of feedback she received was that her students’ perceptions of failure shifted dramatically. At the start of the course, many believed they were failing more than their peers. By the end, they realized: “Everyone is failing every day at everything.” 

This isn’t a bleak worldview, it’s a liberating one. It allows students to extend more grace to themselves and others. Failure becomes not a verdict, but a process. 

What Could Your Classroom Look Like? 

What would your classroom look like if failure were not feared but welcomed? What small change could you make this term to help students see failure as a step forward, not a setback? 

By creating safe spaces for failure—through humor, transparency, and alternative grading models—we don’t just help students succeed academically. We help them grow into more resilient, curious, and confident learners.