Fear Isn’t Keeping Them Out, It’s Indifference (Why Campus Attendance Has Plummeted)

March 8, 2022

It’s an almost universal phenomenon.

Whether you barely closed in-person learning for the pandemic, campus leaders are facing the same reality: A raft of learners aren’t coming back to your campuses. In-person, that is.


The question is, why?


The answer has puzzled me for a while now. It got harder to answer because even formerly growing campus sites are facing the same challenges. After shutting down to in-person gatherings for even a few months, 20-30% of their students disappeared. In fact, of the 2.6 million students who started college in fall 2019, 26.1 percent, or roughly 679,000, didn’t come back the next year, according to the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center. 


I know of a few schools that have surged past their pre-COVID attendance numbers. But for every campus that has seen that favor, there are 100 that haven’t.


What’s going on?


At first, we surmised that it was the lack of a vaccine that created the lag. Nope.


Then it was the variants, but even relief from Delta and now Omicron still hasn’t led to a surge that erases the loss.


Then we wondered if people were just generally fearful.


Nix that theory too. Many people who can’t find their way back to in-person learning have no trouble finding their way to Target, an NBA game, dinner out, a tropical vacation, family reunions, or a Foo Fighters concert.


What gives?


The Emotion Isn’t Fear…It’s Indifference

So, this is a theory here (I’m not a social researcher or psychologist), but I offer it in the hope that it’s helpful. After all, you can’t battle a force you don’t understand and can’t name.


What I’m picking up from my hard conversations with campus executives who have opened their experience management channels is the fact that the exodus isn’t driven by fear…it’s indifference.


Their students know where their local campus is. They didn’t forget. They have been poked and lured enough by your array of free re-engagement events available to them.


After the disruption that happened during COVID, they simply grew indifferent to in-person learning.


Indifference is defined as a lack of interest, concern, sympathy, or unimportance. 


They don’t hate in-person learning; there’s just no surge of strong emotions. It’s simply not as important.


It’s like they’ve assessed their life, reconsidered what matters most, and decided that attending traditional school just wasn’t that important in the end.


Which is discouraging, I know.


But hang on, there’s a lesson here for all of us.


You might be thinking to yourself exactly what a district leader expressed to me in our conversation last week. She said, “well Joe, you don’t read my inbox and you’re not in my conversations. People hated what I did or didn’t do about politics, racial justice, masks, vaccines, or politics and they left mad. Flippin' mad.”


For sure all those things are factors. But I’m not sure it explains a decline as massive as what we’re seeing.


Regarding the people who left your system because they were angry at you, you likely have them seared into your memory not because they’re a large group of people, but because they were a loud group of people.


Loud does not equal large.

And it’s probably not nearly half as large a population as you are imagining. There’s something deeper going on here.


Another recurrent line many campus leaders have echoed lately is that public education (K-12 and Higher Ed) is the subject of a lot of scorn.


When you study what’s happening in the rest of the world or throughout history, what’s happening in the West is hardly coercion. A loss of privilege is not coercion.


Do some people have an axe to grind with their local schools? Sure…and sometimes with good reason. Just witness the rise of unconventional educational alternatives.


But that’s likely still a small minority of the people who disappeared from your campus during the pandemic, despite what you read in the comment section on the Internet.


Double click on that and you’ll see that while the online world can be a hostile place, the real world is a lot less polarized.


While that may come as a shock, recent research suggests that the online world distorts how divided we are. In other words, if you talk to most people, they’re somewhere in the middle.


And when it comes to people who stopped attending your in-person learning, they don’t despise your system. They just don’t think about it much.


Just because ten people wrote you nasty emails doesn’t mean that everyone left because they dislike you or your system.


Many People Didn’t Really Leave Your System. They Just Stopped Coming.

So, if it is indifference, what’s going on?


Here’s the strangest part.


If you talk to a lot of people who no longer attend in-person learning and are currently occasional online participants, they’ll tell you they’re still a part of your learning community.


Dissect that a little further and here’s what you’ll probably find. Most people didn’t leave. They just stopped coming.


I know that makes no logical sense, but maybe that’s how they see it.


That’s what indifference does—you stop coming, but you never really think of yourself as having left.


It’s the friendship that gradually drifts into ‘yeah, that’s right, we used to hang out all the time, but I guess not anymore.’ You’re not enemies by any stretch. You just drifted apart.


Weird, isn’t it?


But that’s indifference.


People Grow Indifferent When They Don’t See Value

Indifference works like this: You become indifferent to people and things when you no longer see value in them.

It’s just not significant enough for you to carve out time for it anymore.


If this is indeed what’s happening with campus attendance, the verdict is as sobering as it is disappointing.


People didn’t see value in on-campus attendance, so, with the catalyst of a few months or longer off, they dropped it.


It’s easy to push back and argue that people should see their education as something that adds significant value. That’s true. Except we’re not talking about learning as much as we are about face-to-face learning.


Maybe your people haven’t bailed on the principle or the idea of education merely as much as they’ve left the current expression of learning.


So, what do you do about that?


The Antidote to Indifference is Passion

The hardest part about indifference is that it engenders neither love nor hate.


It’s more like a shrug that grows into obliviousness. There’s just not a strong well of emotions when it comes to indifference.


The antidote to indifference, then, is passion.


You are never indifferent to things you’re passionate about.


And this is where some further hard news kicks in and ultimately some great news.


First, the hard news, then some much better news.


What Are You (Honestly) Passionate About? People Coming To Your Actual Classroom…Or The Mission Of Your System? 

This is a moment when it’s critical for leaders to get honest with themselves.


Your misdirected passion as a campus leader can misdirect your team and organization’s passion.

As goes the leader, so goes the team.


To that end, if you started to explore the dark underbelly of why campus superintendents and presidents want to get everyone back in their classrooms, you might discover that these leaders:


  • Don’t like seeing empty rooms
  • Want to see their parking lots full
  • Rave about campus life and the traditions found on their campuses


I know that’s a superficial assessment, and your motives are far more nuanced than that, but as a district and campus leader for several decades, I get the emotion here.


Perhaps the key to the future isn’t to just create all the sights, sounds, and “good feels” that we have all come to treasure.

Maybe it’s less about getting excited about pressing “re-set” and being more excited about the mission and what all this mess now makes possible.


Here is another sobering fact that campus leaders must face as the future arrives. Are you ready for this?

The mission of the system gets accomplished as well or better outside the campus walls than it does inside them.

As a result, heading into a hybrid, digital, decentralized future, maybe it’s time to start thinking beyond the building.


Start Thinking Beyond Your Buildings

Historically, the whole system of education has wagered almost everything on gathering people in buildings.

Buildings will be around for decades to come, and I believe it is great when people gather together.


But if your system is going to realize its full mission, your campus buildings will have to stop being the epicenter of your mission.

In the future, if preparing for a prosperous society means coming to your campus, in a set building, with a set faculty member, at a set hour, you need a new strategy.


The easiest way to think about this is the same way instructional leaders have thought about study groups for the last 25 years.

No campus leader today feels threatened by the idea that thousands of learners will be meeting in their homes, coffee shops, or other community places to connect with other learners. The system does spur learning without it actually happening in a centralized facility.


This is where the potential for a distributed learning model starts to move in a new direction.


Many people who are indifferent about driving to your buildings (perhaps) aren’t indifferent to your mission. Leaders who are willing to go to them will be far more effective (and profitable) than leaders who continue to expect people to come to them.

The good news is that decentralized learning scales in a way that centralized education doesn’t. It costs less and can produce far more.


A Renewed Mission and a Brighter Future

It stinks to realize you’re battling indifference and so are your colleagues. And it’s not fun to have your ideals and biases challenged...But I'm not sorry.


I know from experience that as my ideals become exposed and my insecurities get unmasked, I become a better leader.

So, if the best way to battle indifference is to fuel someone’s passion level, perhaps one path forward is to get people more passionate about the MISSION of your campus than the tactical METHODS of delivery.


If your only winning method is having everyone attending class on-site and this strategy is bringing diminishing enrollment returns year after year, perhaps refocusing on the overall mission of the campus is a better direction.


The mission of your system can be accomplished in your buildings, in their homes, in workplaces, in your community, and literally across the globe.


Moving from a system that defaults to in-person learning to a campus that connects and equips learning anytime and anywhere can renew a community passion that might be flickering out. And in the process, it might renew yours as well.

Sometimes the best way to solve a problem is to name the problem. I hope this helps name a problem and perhaps point the way toward a solution.


Leading Your Mission Forward Can Feel Like A Mystery. It Doesn’t Have To.

Leading your organization forward can feel like a mystery. Although every growing system experiences growing pains, being equipped to respond to those challenges – structurally and culturally – is what sets apart a thriving mission from one that’s stuck and hoping for more relief.


P.S. Whenever you are ready here are the 2 best ways I can help you:


1) Get your FREE guide: 5 Evidence-Based Practices to Reclaim More Team Engagement with Less Effort: www.higherperformancegroup.com/reclaim


2) Schedule a Call. Let’s talk about the obstacles (and opportunities) that you & your team are currently facing.  www.higherperformancegroup.com/schedule

More Blog Articles

By HPG Info October 14, 2025
(They’re Just Waiting For Permission To Tell You The Truth) Here's a pattern nobody talks about: You implement weekly communication drills for your leadership team. They get better at board presentations. Faculty meetings improve. Parent nights run smoothly. Then something unexpected happens—feedback starts flowing everywhere. Not just in the drills. In hallway conversations. During budget reviews. In crisis moments, when you need honest input yesterday. You didn't plan for this. You were just trying to stop your VP of Academic Affairs from saying "um" seventeen times per sentence during accreditation visits. Turns out you'd accidentally built what researchers call a "keystone habit"—one small practice that triggers a chain reaction of positive changes across your entire organization. (Kind of like how buying running shoes somehow leads to meal prepping and going to bed before midnight. Except this one actually sticks.) 73% of educational leaders report their cabinet stays silent during critical decisions. That's not a personality problem. That's a systems problem. And the system you think you have? It's probably optimizing for politeness instead of performance. THE DIAGNOSIS Let's talk about this like adults who've survived at least three strategic planning retreats where someone suggested "blue sky thinking" with a straight face. Your last cabinet meeting looked like this: You asked for input on the enrollment decline strategy. Got three nods. Two "I think that could work" responses. One person checked their phone under the table (we saw you, CFO). Meeting adjourned. Everyone left. Then what actually happened? Your VP of Student Affairs texted your VP of Enrollment Management: "Did you understand what we're actually supposed to do?" Your Dean of Faculty sent a carefully worded email, "just checking on a few details," that was really code for "this plan makes no sense." Your Chief of Staff scheduled a one-on-one with you to "clarify next steps," which translated to "I have seventeen concerns, but didn't want to say them in front of everyone." You've got three concurrent conversations happening about the same topic. None of them are with each other. All of them are happening because your cabinet meeting optimized for agreement instead of alignment. Here's what nobody tells you in leadership development programs: Your principals, vice presidents, and department chairs might be brilliant at their individual roles and absolutely terrible at having difficult conversations with each other. Not because they're bad people. Because you've never created an environment where they can practice being bad at it first. Think about it. When was the last time your leadership team had a conversation that felt genuinely risky? Where someone said something that hadn't been pre-vetted in sidebar conversations? Where disagreement happened live instead of in post-meeting debriefs? That silence isn't a sign of respect for your leadership. Sometimes it's fear. Sometimes it's exhaustion from being a tool serving the strategic plan instead of a valued human solving real problems. Sometimes it's just learned behavior from every other organization they've worked in, where speaking up got them labeled "not a team player." Research on high-performing teams shows psychological safety—where people believe they can speak honestly without consequences—is the most critical factor in team effectiveness. More important than intelligence. More important than experience. More important than your strategic priorities or mission statement or the fifteen core values you spent two days workshopping. But here's the plot twist: Psychological safety doesn't manifest because you're nice or because you included "respect" in your values statement. It has to be practiced. Systematically. Repeatedly. Until it becomes more uncomfortable NOT to speak up. (This is actually why I created The GROUP —a free community where insights like this become Leader CORE Lessons you can facilitate with your team Monday morning, complete with discussion prompts and practice scenarios. But I'm getting ahead of myself.) The real problem? You're running a graduate-level organization with middle-school communication patterns. High IQ, catastrophically low Team Intelligence. Everyone's smart. Nobody's connecting. THE THREE CONVERSATIONS YOUR CABINET ISN'T HAVING Call this the Communication Layer Framework. Or don't. It'll still explain why your last "quick sync" turned into a 90-minute therapy session that resolved nothing. Communication research identifies three types of conversations happening simultaneously—often in the same meeting, frequently without anyone realizing they're in different conversations entirely: 1. Practical Conversations (The "What We're Supposed to Be Doing" Layer) This is where you live. Problem-solving. Action plans. Metrics. Timelines. "What are we going to do about the enrollment decline?" You think everyone's in this conversation with you. They're not. Half your cabinet is two layers away, and you're talking past each other like ships in the night. Very polite, very professional ships that will definitely send each other courtesy waves while completely missing the fact that one of you is about to hit an iceberg. 2. Emotional Conversations (The "How We're Actually Feeling" Layer) This is where your leadership team actually is when things get hard. Sharing feelings. Seeking empathy. Processing change. "I'm terrified we're going to have to lay people off, and I don't know how to lead through that." If you walk into a performance review in practical mode and your administrator walks in emotional mode, you're about to have two completely different conversations in the same room. You'll think you gave clear feedback. They'll think you don't understand their situation. Both of you will leave frustrated and confused about why the other person "isn't getting it." 3. Social Conversations (The "Who We Are to Each Other" Layer) This is about identity, relationships, and hierarchy. How we relate. Who has power. Whose voice matters. "Do I belong in this cabinet?" "Does the superintendent actually value what I bring?" "Am I about to get thrown under the bus for something that wasn't my fault?" When you're trying to discuss practical strategy and someone's operating in the social layer, they're not hearing your plan. They're scanning for threats to their position, value, or belonging. Every word you say gets filtered through "What does this mean for my standing here?" Here's what makes this devastating: Most leadership breakdowns happen because we don't match the conversation the other person needs to have. You walk into a meeting thinking, "I need to give practical feedback on instructional leadership." They walk in thinking, "I'm about to lose my job and nobody values what I've sacrificed for this school." Until you address the emotional and social layers first, your practical feedback lands like instructions shouted at someone who's drowning. The same dynamic plays out when your principals meet with teachers, when department chairs evaluate faculty, and when anyone on your team attempts a difficult conversation. THE CASE STUDY Let me tell you about a superintendent I'll call Marcus (not his real name, but Marcus, your cabinet definitely knows this is about them). Marcus had eight direct reports. Combined experience of 186 years. Multiple PhDs. National recognition. They could individually crush any challenge you put in front of them. As a team? They communicated like they were playing telephone through a series of closed doors during a fire drill. Cabinet meetings followed a predictable pattern: Marcus would present an issue. Ask for input. Get thoughtful-sounding responses that were really just people restating the problem using different words. Someone would volunteer to "take this back to their team." Meeting would end with a vague sense of progress. Then nothing would change. The real conversations happened after. In parking lots. In text threads. In carefully scheduled one-on-ones where people would share what they actually thought but "didn't want to say in front of everyone." Marcus kept trying to solve this with better agendas. Clearer objectives. More efficient meeting structures. (Classic practical-layer solution to an emotional and social-layer problem.) Then Marcus did something that felt almost uncomfortably simple: He started weekly communication practice sessions with his team. Not role-playing. Not trust falls. Actual practice giving and receiving feedback on low-stakes topics. Week one: Practice giving positive feedback about something specific. Week two: Practice receiving feedback without getting defensive. Week three: Practice disagreeing without it becoming personal. It felt forced at first. (One VP literally said, "This feels like kindergarten but for grown-ups.") But something shifted around week four: People started using the same language in actual cabinet meetings. "I'm in emotional mode right now—can we address that before jumping to solutions?" "I think we're having different conversations—let me check if I'm understanding correctly." Six months later, same people, different system. Cabinet meetings got shorter because people said what they meant the first time. Difficult conversations happened earlier instead of festering. Most importantly: The parking lot conversations moved into the conference room where they could actually be productive. Marcus told me: "We didn't become a better collection of individuals. We became an actual team. Turns out that matters more than I thought." The difference? They practiced being bad at communication in low-stakes environments so they could be good at it when it mattered. Now, if you're thinking "this makes sense, but how do I actually implement communication drills without my cabinet staging a revolt?"—I get it. That's the gap between insight and implementation. This is what The GROUP is for. Each week, I turn the newsletter topic into a Leader CORE Lesson and Guide: facilitation notes, discussion prompts, practice scenarios, diagnostic tools—everything you need to lead your team through this content without spending Sunday night googling "how to teach feedback to people who've been leaders longer than I've been alive." It's free, built for busy leaders, and designed for Monday morning meetings when you need something that actually works instead of theory that sounds impressive. Grab this week's communication practice guide: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/the-group But whether you join The GROUP or not, here's what you can implement immediately... THE APPLICATION Here's what to do this week (assuming you're not currently managing a crisis, in which case bookmark this and revisit when things calm down to a dull roar): Step 1: Practice "Looping for Understanding" in Your Next One-on-One Ask a question. Repeat back what you heard them say. Ask if you got it right. That's it. Three steps. Takes 10-15 seconds. Proves you're listening. If they say "yes, exactly"—you understood correctly and can move forward. If they say "not quite, what I meant was..."—you just prevented a massive miscommunication that would have caused problems three weeks from now. If they look surprised that you actually listened—you have a bigger problem than this one conversation can solve, but you've just started solving it. This isn't just good practice for you. It's modeling the behavior you want them using with their teachers, staff, and faculty. Every time you loop in for understanding with your VP of Finance, you're teaching them to do the same with their department heads. Step 2: Start Developmental Conversations with Self-Assessment Before your next performance conversation, ask: "Tell me two things you think you do really well in your role and two things you think you could improve." Ninety percent of the time, what they identify as growth areas will match what you've observed. (Turns out people usually know their own weaknesses. They just don't know if it's safe to admit them.) Now they've given you permission to address those issues together. No defensiveness. No surprise. No "nobody ever told me this was a problem." Just collaborative problem-solving between two adults who both want the same outcome. Step 3: Ask Permission to Shift Conversation Types If a principal or dean comes to you in emotional mode about a difficult parent situation, and you need to move to practical problem-solving, try this: "I hear what you're saying. I've felt that way too. Can I share some approaches that helped me work through similar situations?" You're acknowledging their emotional reality before asking to move to practical solutions. You're not dismissing their feelings. You're not jumping immediately to fix-it mode. You're creating a bridge between the conversation they need to have and the conversation you need to have. If they say yes, you can move forward productively. If they say "I'm not ready for solutions yet"—they need more time in emotional mode, and pushing practical advice will backfire spectacularly. OBJECTION HANDLING "My team won't go for structured communication practice" Your team is currently having three different conversations about every issue, none of which are with each other, resulting in decisions that die in parking lots and initiatives that fragment the moment everyone leaves the room. They're already "going for" something—it's just catastrophically ineffective. The bar is on the floor. You're not asking them to do something dramatically harder. You're asking them to stop doing something that demonstrably doesn't work. "We don't have time for communication drills" You just spent 90 minutes in a cabinet meeting that could have been 30 minutes if people had said what they actually thought the first time instead of having seven follow-up conversations afterward. That's one meeting. Now multiply by four meetings per month. You're spending roughly 240 extra minutes per month—four hours—on communication inefficiency. That's 48 hours per year. You're hemorrhaging two full work weeks annually while claiming you don't have time to practice being clearer. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "My cabinet needs to communicate better." Mature leaders think: "We need to practice communicating better together." Immature leaders assume communication skills are innate—either you have them or you don't—and spend board retreats wondering why their brilliant team can't seem to align. Mature leaders build systems where communication skills are practiced regularly until they become second nature. Immature leaders address communication problems after they explode. Mature leaders practice communication before crisis hits. The difference is the difference between hoping your team can have difficult conversations and knowing they can because they've practiced. One makes impossible feel permanent. One makes impossible feel temporary. Cabinet silence isn't a personality problem. It's a practice problem. And unlike enrollment declines or budget cuts, this one is completely within your control. Your turn: Think about your last cabinet meeting. How many conversations do you think were happening simultaneously that weren't actually being spoken out loud? What would change if you named those conversations explicitly? Drop a comment. Tag a cabinet member who needs to see this. Or screenshot this and text it to your Chief of Staff with the message "Let's talk about our next meeting." P.S. If you're thinking "I don't have bandwidth to create communication practice resources for my team"—I already did it for you.  The GROUP is a free community where every newsletter becomes a ready-to-deploy Leader CORE Lesson and Guide. Practice scenarios. Discussion prompts. Diagnostic questions. Everything you need to lead your team through structured communication development without the Sunday night scramble.
By HPG Info October 8, 2025
Your Institution Has 18 Months, and Here's What 23 Leaders Did on October 1st to Model the Way Forward "We've got about 18 months to figure this thing out." That's the window educational leaders have to transform proactively—or be forced to transform reactively in survival mode. On October 1st, 2025, twenty-three district superintendents and college presidents stopped planning alone and started building together. Not the leaders waiting for perfect strategic plans. Not the ones defending comfortable systems. The BUILDERS—leaders whose institutions have grown enrollment 15-40% despite demographic headwinds, who've launched partnerships generating $50M+ in regional economic impact, who've redesigned curricula around employer needs that traditional institutions haven't touched. What emerged in those 60 minutes wasn't comfortable. It was clarifying. Here's what 1.7 million lost higher education students and 1.2 million departed K-12 students since 2019 actually tell us: Students didn't drop out. They opted out. Traditional education lost not because our teaching failed, but because our thinking stayed small while the world moved fast. The market already voted. And it didn't vote for more performance optics. The Four Types of Leaders DR. JOE HILL opened with a framework that landed hard:  Four types of leaders populate education today. Coasters worship stability and avoid controversy. Climbers optimize metrics but often overlook whether those metrics matter to students. Dreamers create gorgeous strategic plans that rarely launch. And Builders —rare, hungry, idealistic—who possess what Hill calls "moral ambition."
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