Delft Goose Phenomenon

When I first arrived at TU Delft, I was captivated by an Egyptian goose family near the Mechanical Engineering faculty. The vigilant parents, standing tall and proud, watched over nine goslings as they foraged and glided effortlessly through the canal, creating a scene of tranquillity amidst the busy campus. People often paused to capture the moment, perhaps envying their seemingly peaceful existence.

Yet, over time, I noticed fluctuations in the gosling count, some years dropping to just one, like this year. It was a reminder that life is not always as easy as their confident presence suggests; hidden challenges lie beneath the surface.

This reflection on the geese mirrors my initial impressions of TU Delft, which were similarly deceptive. Upon arriving, many academics feel pressured to improve, surrounded by people who seem overwhelmingly positive about their groundbreaking research and achievements. Their optimism made us question whether our own struggles were unique or a sign of personal failure. In conversations, emails and formal reports, everything appeared spectacular, as if no one encountered obstacles.

This deceptive calm is widespread in competitive environments, where people fear showing vulnerability

Yet, over time, we saw the contrast between these confident appearances and reality. Despite outward assurance, many PhDs struggled to finish in the expected time frame, and many staff members regularly worked overtime. Moreover, my experience on one of the university committees revealed that official reports often failed to reflect real findings. Recent concerns about social safety have further exposed deeper systemic issues that profoundly impact our community.

These experiences at TU Delft are not unique. This phenomenon of deceptive calm is widespread in competitive environments, where people fear showing vulnerability. This culture of impression management is misleading, a form of dishonesty that is contagious and ultimately leads to pluralistic ignorance and organisational silence. It perpetuates stress rather than fostering solutions. By hiding struggles, we increase isolation, anxiety, and feelings of inadequacy, making it harder for people to seek help and deepening their challenges.

To address this, universities must acknowledge their deeper issues, showing that there is room for improvement while preserving hope for change. We need an environment where honest dialogue is encouraged and individuals feel safe admitting setbacks. Official reports and presentations should not only highlight successes but also acknowledge failures, unmet goals, and areas still needing improvement. Initiatives such as Failure Forums could be organised to create spaces for open discussions. Even something as simple as writing honest acknowledgments by students, recognising reality rather than sugarcoating it, can make a difference.

Maintaining composure is commendable, but our challenges should be catalysts for change, fostering support and improving our community so others do not face the same struggles. We must remember that we all face difficulties like our campus geese, who may suffer quiet losses, and who, even when they seem to move peacefully, must paddle furiously beneath the surface just to keep going.

So, please do not be a goose. Reach out, share, and engage. In doing so, we may create practical solutions for ourselves, future students and colleagues.