Down With the Nonchalance Epidemic

Harvard students don’t get around.

While it’s impossible to know just how many Harvard students are in romantic relationships, previous Crimson investigations have revealed the rather lackluster state of the dating scene here. Some Harvard students estimate that as few as 5 percent of their peers are in committed relationships.

Students have posited a few causes you’d expect for this dating drought, including academics, social reputation, and pre-professional mindsets, amongst others. I think those factors are symptoms of a larger problem, however. It’s one that’s poisoned our water supply, burned our crops, and taken our generation by storm: nonchalance.

Call it relational apathy. Call it weaponized incompetence. The reality is that we’ve been taught, whether by the powers that be, Instagram, or maybe the last few uninspired Drake albums, that caring too much, especially in relationships, is a bad thing.

And on this, I beg to differ. Caring and putting effort in is not only kind; it is also brave. It takes a leap of faith to show up and show out for those you love, and those whom you are hoping to one day possibly love. We know from our strongest friendships and relationships that love isn’t built on indifference, it’s built on consistency and care.

Unfortunately, many Harvard students have never known anything but an endless series of talking stages and “situationships.” Ghosting is not only commonplace, but very much normalized. We are clearly struggling to develop intimate relationships.

And in some ways, this makes sense. In The Crimson’s annual senior survey, the Class of 2025 reported spending nearly 48 hours every week on academics and extracurriculars, with 2026’s results falling in a similar ballpark. We, as Harvard students, have been conditioned into just not caring as much about things like relationships and thus into not putting as much effort into them.

The problem with just ignoring relationships, however, is that with neglect comes atrophy. College is supposed to prepare us to enter the real world and introduce us to the realities of adulthood — most students, for instance, are living on their own for the first time, working and exploring possible careers, and learning to create lifelong friendships and connections. How can one claim that romantic relationships are not an essential component of adult life and thus an important part of the college experience?

It’s not like we will suddenly acquire the skills to navigate long-term romance upon graduation. Dating is a skill that needs to be developed, habituated, and reinforced over time. Caring is the first step.

With caring often comes better communication skills. Nonchalance and healthily expressing your wants and needs cannot coexist. No long-lasting relationship can operate without the back-and-forth of boundaries, fears and desires, and conflict resolution. You just won’t get anywhere with the hot-and-cold push-and-pull of many of our romantic involvements. How can we ever expect our future relationships to bloom if we’re refusing them even water?

This isn’t all conjecture, either. Researchers at the Greater Good Science Center at University of California, Berkeley, have argued that deeper emotional connections enrich not only our personal lives, but our motivation to contribute to society.

But perhaps I’m too drawn to romantic notions of the past, when people cared more and were more, for lack of a better word, chalant. My grandfather, for example, as the story goes, was a passionate, charming lover who worshiped his wife and the ground she walked on. Happily married for over two decades, they had known each other since childhood.

My grandmother had severe rheumatoid arthritis, and as she aged, her condition worsened. My grandfather bought her tulips every week, took her on spontaneous day trips into downtown Cairo, and washed her feet when she was too tired to do it herself.

And when he passed away, my grandmother passed only a few months later, “out of heartbreak,” my family says.

I know their relationship probably wasn’t perfect — nothing is, after all. I’m sure they had their share of fights and petty arguments, but I do know that they were never afraid to express their love to one another and we could all learn from that.

I’m not proposing some grand change in the dating mindset of Harvard students — just communicate a little more. Tell that date you liked you want to see them again. Tell that date you didn’t like you weren’t feeling it (kindly). Send that long text you’ve been overthinking.

And who knows? Maybe it’s that easy.

Yassin T. Mohamedy ’29, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Leverett House.