Teacher's burnout

"It has been three years since I last took a single day off from the university. Now, when I finally leave campus, I feel an overwhelming urge to hit my car," says Tanveer Qasim, a professor at a private-sector university in Lahore. His words stopped me mid-conversation. I looked at him in disbelief, struggling to reconcile what I was hearing with who he was. Just two years ago, the same university had honoured him with its Best Teacher's Award. And yet, here he was — exhausted, drained and emotionally spent. Was this what burnout looked like?

Tanveer's story is not an exception. It is increasingly the norm.

Across the world, researchers have consistently identified teaching as one of the most stressful professions in the human service sector. The job demands far more than subject knowledge or classroom presence with expectations to teach, mentor, counsel, assess, manage administrative tasks, meet institutional targets and remain emotionally available — all at once. Over time, this relentless pressure takes a toll.

"By the time I leave campus, I am completely exhausted — physically spent, emotionally drained, and mentally numb. What frightens me most is that this feeling is not temporary; it has been building up over the years and refuses to subside. My workday begins early and often stretches well beyond official hours. Preparing lectures, updating course outlines, arranging academic seminars, attending back-to-back meetings and resolving student issues consume most of my time. During examination periods, I invigilate papers, mark scripts late into the night and respond to administrative emails that never seem to end.

To add more, alongside teaching, I am expected to publish research, supervise postgraduate students and shoulder administrative roles for which I received neither formal training nor workload reduction. I feel there is no clear boundary between work and life anymore," says Kiran, who is a teaching fellow in a chemical department of a public sector university.

"Even at home, my mind is on deadlines, reports and unanswered emails. I rarely have time to rest, reflect or simply be present with my family." Over time, the constant pressure has dulled my enthusiasm for a profession I once loved.

A senior female lecturer at a private university in Karachi shares a different struggle. Her contract is renewed annually. Despite excellent student feedback and a growing research profile, she lives with uncertainty. "I don't plan beyond one year," she admits. "I don't know if I'll be here next semester." The pressure to publish, teach and remain compliant — without job security — has taken a toll on her mental health. "Some days," she says quietly, "I feel invisible."

Then there is financial strain. A mid-career professor at a public university in K-P, supporting school-going children, explains how inflation has reshaped his life. "I've stopped attending conferences unless they're fully funded," he says. "Books are expensive. Even journal access is limited. Sometimes it feels like we are asked to compete globally while being resourced locally."

Perhaps the most painful aspect of burnout is the erosion of respect. One associate professor recalls being warned informally for questioning an administrative decision affecting academic autonomy.

Empirical evidence indicates that teacher burnout negatively affects student engagement and academic performance, underscoring the pivotal role of teacher well-being in fostering student success and holistic development. Teacher burnout is not a personal weakness. It is a systemic failure — one that demands urgent attention. When educators are pushed to their emotional limits, the cost is not confined to individuals. It spills into classrooms, affects students and erodes the quality of education itself.

Burnout does not always look dramatic. Often, it manifests quietly — through disengagement. A once-passionate lecturer delivers the same notes year after year. A promising researcher abandons an ambitious project. Mentorship becomes transactional. Students sense it. Universities feel it.