The Kind Academic

I’ve noticed an interesting pattern when discussing kindness in academia with my colleagues. (Yes – this is what academics talk about over lunch. Who ever said academia isn’t sexy?).

Whenever someone says they practice kind or compassionate pedagogy, they often quickly follow up with: “But I’m not nice.” It’s almost like a defensive reflex, a need to establish academic credibility by distancing oneself from the perceived weakness of niceness.

This got me thinking about why we’re so afraid of being seen as nice in academic spaces. Academics seem to think that being nice equates to being a pushover, having low standards, or lacking critical thinking. “I’m kind but not nice” seems to be a way of saying, “I have high standards, and I’ll push you to meet them.”

But I wonder if we’re creating a false distinction that potentially does more harm than good. In trying to separate kindness from niceness, are we actually giving ourselves permission to be unkind in certain situations? Are we using “kind but not nice” as an excuse to justify behaviours that might actually be plain old mean?

As academics, we’ve all seen situations where “maintaining high standards” is used to justify being unnecessarily harsh. Where “pushing students to excel” leads to unnecessary stress and anxiety. Where “academic rigour” becomes code for inflexibility and lack of empathy.

This isn’t to say that high standards and academic excellence aren’t important – they absolutely are. But I’m increasingly convinced that the opposition we’ve created between niceness and academic rigour is both artificial and harmful. Being nice – treating people with basic courtesy, showing consideration, being pleasant in our interactions – doesn’t preclude being challenging, maintaining high standards, or tackling difficult conversations.

In fact, I’d argue that niceness actually enhances our ability to push for excellence. When students (or colleagues) feel respected and supported, they’re more likely to take risks, engage with challenging material, and push themselves beyond their comfort zones. A foundation of nice interactions creates the psychological safety necessary for real growth and learning.

The key distinction isn’t between nice and kind – it’s between authentic and performative behaviour.

Performative niceness – the superficial pleasantness that avoids all conflict and never challenges anyone – isn’t particularly helpful in academic spaces.

But

Authentic niceness – genuine consideration for others combined with a commitment to growth and learning – can coexist beautifully with high standards and academic rigour.

Maybe instead of rushing to distance ourselves from niceness, we should be asking different questions:

• How can we be both nice and rigorous?
• How can we maintain high standards while also being consistently pleasant and considerate in our interactions?
• How can we challenge our students and colleagues while treating them with unfailing courtesy?

In my own practice, I’m working to embrace both kindness and niceness, seeing them as complementary rather than contradictory forces. Yes, I maintain high standards. Yes, I push my students to excel. Yes, I engage in critical conversations. But I do all of this while also being consistently nice – because I’ve found that niceness doesn’t weaken my academic practice, it strengthens it.

Maybe it’s time to challenge the academic culture that sees niceness as a weakness. Maybe being kind but not nice isn’t the ideal we should be striving for. Maybe, just maybe, being both kind and nice while maintaining high standards is not only possible but preferable.

After all, in a world that often feels increasingly harsh and unforgiving, couldn’t academia benefit from more niceness, not less?