The pandemic has shaken up college life for good: Since then, social media and AI have revolutionized classroom expectations, and the bar for landing a job after graduation has become impossibly high. Many are now questioning whether getting a degree was even worth it.
The ripple effect of those strains is already showing in campus accessibility offices, where diagnoses of ADHD, anxiety, and depression are rising—and so are requests for extended time on coursework.
At Harvard, 21% of undergraduates received disability accommodations last year, an increase of more than 15% over the past decade, according to data published by the National Center for Education Statistics analyzed by the Harvard Crimson. Top schools like Brown, Cornell, and Yale reported similar numbers, roughly in line with national trends. But the increase is more pronounced at other institutions: 34% of students at Amherst College and 38% at Stanford are registered as disabled, according to The Atlantic.
In the 2011-12 school year, the number of undergraduates with a disability was about 11%, based on U.S. Department of Education data—highlighting just how much of a dramatic shift this phenomenon has become.
One founder says students are trying to get a leg up in today’s tough job market
Experts note that many students have medical conditions that merit accommodations, and the increase is in part linked to broader access to mental-health care and reduced stigma around seeking support.
The rise has nonetheless drawn national attention, with some critics arguing that students are abusing the system to secure lighter workloads or an edge in hypercompetitive classrooms.
Derek Thompson, author of the recent bestseller Abundance called the numbers “mind-boggling,” arguing that colleges may be overcorrecting after years of underrecognizing disability.
“America used to stigmatize disability too severely,” he wrote on X. “Now elite institutions reward it too liberally. It simply does not make any sense to have a policy that declares half of the students at Stanford cognitively disabled and in need of accommodations.”
Joe Lonsdale, a billionaire venture capitalist and Palantir cofounder, expressed similar concerns, suggesting some families are seeking diagnosis just to give students “a leg up.”
After all, the post-graduation job hunt has tightened into a numbers game few can win.
In 2023 and 2024, more than 1.2 million applications were submitted for just under 17,000 open graduate roles in the U.K., according to the Institute of Student Employers. And in the U.S., lawmakers warn the funnel is narrowing further. U.S. Sen. Mark Warner (D-Va.) has warned that joblessness among recent graduates could hit 25% in the next two to three years, as AI reshapes entry-level work.
But in reality, there is no evidence of widespread misuse, and not all students registered with a disability receive accommodation in every class. Still, the scale of requests has raised questions among some faculty members about how accommodations intersect with academic expectations.
Faculty grapple with balancing support of students and avoidance of stigma
For instructors, the rise in accommodations can be challenging to navigate. Many say they want to support students with legitimate needs but worry that requesting clarification could be seen as insensitive or ableist.
One adjunct professor, posting to Reddit, said the number of students with accommodations has “increased exponentially” across the three schools where they teach.
“I had an increasingly large number of students at this particular school be given the accommodation to turn work in 48 hours late, and I got tired of constantly having to extend due dates for just them,” the professor wrote, noting that they themselves have ADHD and autism.
“The students I’ve had on this accommodation would use it pretty much every week since they were perpetually behind.”
Harry Lewis, former dean of Harvard College, expressed a related concern to the Harvard Crimson.
“The whole system of accommodations for things other than physical disabilities just seems badly mismatched with the educational purposes that students and faculty share,” he said.
However, Katy Washington, CEO of the Association of Higher Education and Disability, argued that students seeking accommodations are not “unfair burdens” on professors, and rather than questioning whether too many students qualify—which can perpetuate stereotypes—the focus should be on designing assessments that are inclusive for all learners.
“For decades, students with invisible disabilities were denied support because their struggles were dismissed as laziness or lack of effort,” Washington wrote in a letter to her organization’s members, shared with Fortune. “The rise in accommodations reflects a cultural shift toward acknowledging mental health, not a decline in academic integrity.”
A shifting skill-based job market could leave some students unprepared
For students, the increase in accommodations coincides with employers rethinking what actually matters in hiring. Fewer companies are prioritizing degrees, and more are evaluating on what they can do—through portfolio, projects, and real-world problem-solving.
Less than half of U.S. professionals at the director-level and above say a university degree is essential for getting ahead, according to LinkedIn. Moreover, nearly 1 in 5 job postings on the platform do not require a degree.
That shift could complicate the picture for students who’ve grown accustomed to extended deadlines or extra time. Whether a small number of students are abusing the system, workplace assessments typically don’t come with accommodations—and performance is often judged on speed, accuracy, and consistency. Some Gen Zers have already faced the pink slip just months into the start of their career due to employers being unimpressed with some of their soft skills, like organization.
In other words: even as college becomes more flexible, the job market is moving in the opposite direction.
A version of this story originally published on Fortune.com on December 12, 2025.
