Contributor: Universities oversold education. Now they must sell connection.


Universities now face two crises. Artificial intelligence is rapidly eroding its monopoly on instruction and young adults are experiencing historically high levels of loneliness. For higher education to justify its staggering cost, it must confront both realities at once, deliberately designing environments and experiences that foster social connection alongside academics. If done right, universities can offer something that AI cannot replicate.

Generation Z is experiencing a deep social crisis. Nearly three-quarters of 16- to 24-year-olds say they feel lonely, and now young adults spend 70% less time in person with friends compared to just two decades ago. The share of American adults who have no close friends has quadrupled since 1990. And a growing majority of Gen Z college graduates say their degree was a “waste of money.” We're sorry that students are using ChatGPT to complete their courses while an entire generation struggles to form lasting relationships and wonders if college was worth it.

The pandemic made clear what was at stake. When campuses closed, students quickly learned they could stream lectures from anywhere. What they couldn't access was the community. The students did not rush back to class; They returned for the social experience. Universities still offer the rarest commodity in modern life: sustained face-to-face contact with a diverse group of peers at a critical period of development. However, most campuses remain organized around the assumption that instruction is the primary product that students purchase.

I say this as a tenured professor at USC: my doctoral training did not include any courses on how to teach. That's typical. Like most of my colleagues, I learned to teach through trial and error, borrowing techniques from mentors and hoping for the best. Hiring, salaries, and academic prestige depend overwhelmingly on research results, not pedagogy. Even teachers who care deeply about teaching must navigate a system that rewards something else. When those incentives collide, teaching loses. However, students still collect diplomas, universities still retain their marks, and everyone pretends that the emperor is fully clothed.

What should worry everyone working in higher education is that, for many university courses, AI tutors will soon rival or surpass the quality of human professors, making expert instruction increasingly plentiful. And prices for abundant goods, as any economist will tell you, are plummeting. TO recent Harvard study highlights how dramatic this change can be: students who used an AI tutor learned more than twice as much, in less time, than those in an active learning class, and reported feeling more engaged and motivated.

So what is still in short supply? Ironically, that very thing defined the first institutions recognizable as “colleges” in ancient Rome. He school They were voluntary associations built around a shared identity and mutual support: guilds where artisans gathered not only to learn trades but to participate together in meals, gatherings, festivals, and civic events that shaped urban life. Education was important there, but community was the central mission. The Latin root, collegiateIt means “colleague”, someone with whom you come together for a common purpose. From the beginning, belonging and learning were inseparable.

Modern universities still perform this ancient function, but they invest in it unevenly. Student satisfaction with the quality of student life nationwide has declined, according to a survey of more than 126,000 students worldwide, even as enrollment continues to rise. If belonging is important to learning, career readiness, and well-being—and decades of research shows it is—it must be intentionally cultivated, not left to chance.

As? Financing student life with the same seriousness that universities dedicate to research laboratories and medical centers. Hiring professional experience designers: people trained to track how students actually move through an institution and identify where systems create friction, confusion, or isolation. Creating multi-year collaborative projects in which students pursue real problems together. Creating rituals, traditions, and shared experiences that anchor students' identities and foster a sense of continuity and belonging. These are not “amenities.” They are the new core curriculum.

The most important thing is to recognize that employers increasingly value exactly these social and collaborative skills that AI cannot provide. As AI takes on more analytical tasks, the premium on distinctly human capabilities—reading complex social dynamics, building trust across differences, exercising judgment in ambiguous situations—will only grow. Universities may be the last institution competent to develop these human capabilities at scale. But only if they design it deliberately.

Most universities already have pieces of this puzzle: residence halls, clubs and teams, tutoring centers, mentoring programs. But they are rarely part of an intentional integrated system. They remain scattered offerings. Belonging is often a matter of luck: some students find their people; others remain on the sidelines for years, largely unseen. No respectable institution would leave academic learning to chance. Why tolerate that in the social sphere?

Intellectual initiative is still very important, but it will no longer justify the price on its own. Universities should embrace AI for teaching rather than resist it. Let adaptive digital tutors do the essential knowledge transfer: lectures, problem sets, and content delivery that can be individualized and accessed from anywhere. Then pair that learning with mandatory in-person experiences that are structured, communal, and identity-forming.

The university that first recognizes this need (and builds to meet it) will define the future of higher education. Yes, students will still earn degrees, but those credentials will certify something different: not only that graduates absorbed information, but that they can navigate complex human systems, build lasting relationships, and contribute to communities. Call it Social Connection University or, if necessary, Social Credentialing University. Either way, the acronym fits.

Eric Anicich is an associate professor of Management and Organization at the USC Marshall School of Business and is regular collaborator to Harvard Business Review.

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