Over breakfast about a month ago, my son Felix looked up solemnly and announced his concern that he wasn’t yet panicking about his impending exams. Like thousands of teenagers around the country, he has recently taken his first round of mock NCEA tests. The real thing will follow next month.
Although it may be many years since I had to take exams, I remember vividly the anxiety and uncertainty that accompanied them at high school. But concern about not panicking was something new to me and, as an emotions scholar, I was intrigued.
Felix explained that a number of his friends were already in a state of panic, but as yet he wasn’t really feeling anything. As a hardworking student who takes his schoolwork seriously, he was worried that perhaps this meant he was missing a vital step in his preparations, or that perhaps he wasn’t approaching his studies with sufficient gravity. In short, he was anxious about not feeling anxious.
What my son was observing in his community was emotional contagion – a state in which feelings, including anger, euphoria or panic, can spread rapidly among people. It’s a form of empathy, in which we respond to those around us and, in the right context, it can bring social benefits. Emotional contagion can make sporting events joyous occasions involving shared highs and lows, as a crowd responds to a team or sportsperson. It can also, though, lead to more sinister forms of collective behaviour, like the mass hysteria that can be part of political rallies. Among high school students, emotional contagion can be an unbearable source of pressure and unease, and it can be deeply debilitating.
When I think back to my own school years, I would deploy a number of coping strategies. There were definitely some classmates I would take steps to avoid in the run-up to exams. One friend in particular had to verbalise all her apprehensions, talking through what she did and didn’t know and what the examiners might or might not have decided to ask. It was completely overwhelming to listen to her. What I needed was the exact opposite: time for silent reflection and deep breathing, consolidating what I knew and avoiding thoughts about what I might have missed. I was able to give myself space from my friend’s jitters, recognising that they weren’t doing me any good.
Social media makes it difficult for students to mediate their exam-related concerns. While I could plan my days to minimise contact with those whose anxiety might heighten my own, many of today’s teens find it difficult to isolate themselves from contagious panic. Smartphones can bring a chorus of stress into our homes, day and night, when group chats become a forum for pre-exam nerves. It’s easy for me to say, “Well, just turn the phone off until exams are done”, but to do that would also cut Felix off from his peers and the support and solidarity they offer.
Labelling a behaviour can reduce its impact, and learning to recognise the signs of emotional contagion can blunt its effects. For Felix, distinguishing between his feelings and those of the group has been empowering, as has knowing that everyone prepares for exams in different ways. The adrenaline we feel before a major hurdle like an exam can offer benefits, but at times it can be so all-consuming that it undermines our confidence in what we have learned. In these circumstances, self-knowledge can be the most useful tool, enabling students to know that they don’t need to respond to pressure in any prescribed way, and that panic doesn’t need to be part of the process. l
Grace Moore is an academic at the University of Otago whose research includes work on the history of emotions.
