brains vs brawn: the double standard in student success

When students achieve school or national colors in sports, their teammates cheer the loudest. During inter-house sports events, even the winners of opposing teams are celebrated. But when it comes to academics, success is often met with quiet resentment rather than applause.

An Uncomfortable Lesson

Tenth grade was exciting for both students and teachers. For the first time, we got to choose our own subjects, and teachers were left guessing who picked what. There were no set streams, so some students ended up with strange combinations—Physical Sciences, History, and Consumer Studies in one schedule. The uncertainty sparked curiosity about our future plans, but no one was more intrigued than our Life Orientation teacher, Ms. J.

One day, during a lesson on goal-setting, she asked us about our academic ambitions. A boy sighed, raising his hand.

"Honestly, Ma’am, I don’t see the point in trying when I’ll never be as good as them."

He pointed at me and Riley—the top-performing students at our school.

Ms. J frowned. "Shouldn't their achievements motivate you?"

A girl responded before he could.

"Ma’am, I’ve been trying to compete with them since eighth grade, but I just can’t beat them — nobody can."

A murmur of agreement followed. Several students shared their frustration at being compared to us, both by teachers and their own parents.

It was an uncomfortable discussion, but it got me thinking: why is athletic success met with celebration, while academic success feels like a source of discouragement?

The Stakes Are Higher

One explanation is that academics offer a higher return on investment. Good grades mean guaranteed university entrance, scholarship opportunities, and public praise. News outlets report on students with 15 distinctions, perfect math scores, or Ivy League acceptances. In a world where the cost of living is soaring and unemployment is high, academic excellence is often seen as a ticket to stability.

In this hyper-competitive environment, falling short can feel like a personal failure — not just in school, but in life.

The Myth of Innate Intelligence

Another reason is the widespread belief that academic success is purely a result of intelligence rather than effort. This myth persists because academic work — note-taking, studying, writing exams — happens in isolation. The process is invisible. Others only see the end result: the distinction, the award, the university acceptance.

Ironically, athletic success isn’t only about effort either. Simone Biles, the most decorated gymnast in history, has a naturally high power-to-weight ratio due to her strong muscles and short stature. Michael Phelps, the most decorated Olympian of all time, produces 50% less lactic acid than other athletes, allowing him to recover faster. Biology gives some athletes an advantage, just as genetics may give some students a head start in academics.

Yet, in sports, hard work is undeniable. We see the sweat, the exhaustion, the injuries. No one questions that athletes train for their victories. But in academics, effort is invisible. If you succeed, people assume it came easily to you.

The Morality of Achievement

But the biggest difference, I believe, is this: students don’t just envy academic achievement — they associate it with good character.

From a young age, teachers tell struggling students to “take pride in their work,” implying that low grades stem from a lack of self-respect rather than ability. Meanwhile, top students are praised for being “diligent,” “hard-working,” “disciplined.” Only the best students are virtuous—which suggests that the rest are not.

Think back to what was said in Ms. J’s class:

"I’ll never be as good as them."

Good. Not smart, not hard-working — good.

Perhaps that’s why academic achievement isn’t celebrated the same way athletic success is. It doesn’t just highlight differences in ability; it feels like a judgment of who we are.

What do you think? Have you noticed this difference in attitudes? Let’s discuss in the comments.