Back in 2022 in that (ie this) period after Easter and before the new officer year starts, I sat down with an outgoing student leader to discuss how the year had gone.
She’d been one of the more high-profile ones – taking steps to “put herself out there” to provide what at times felt like a running commentary on the student condition at her university, and what ought to be done about the problems therein.
She had looked, from my distant perspective, to have been pretty successful. What I’d not realised until we sat down was quite how miserable a year she’d had.
She described how she’d been targeted by a couple of students who were very keen – almost too keen – to hold her to account.
This wasn’t appearing at the odd meeting to ask a difficult question, or submitting motions to a meeting of the union’s democratic structures (although that happened).
It was constant – long emails, detailed DMs, excessive commentary on the forums – zeroing in at a very granular level on her posts, critiquing her performance, attributing every failing in the union to her personally, and offering endless commentary on her contributions to meetings, many of which she’d not been aware they were even present at.
The messages would often come in very late at night – and of course, these days, appear immediately in the feeds on a mobile.
There would be memes, quotes and both manifesto and social media archaeology. In person and alone they were each completely unreasonable – impossible to reason with and quite unpleasant.
But when accompanied – especially by men – they were pleasant as pie.
A long tail
I’ve been having similar conversations with student officers in the “exit” period for as long as I can remember – although the nature of “accountabilty”, and the way in which it has moved from meetings with rules to instant and invasive via social media has been difficult to watch.
Those I’ve spoken to – both those experiencing it and those around them – have tended to try to accept or offer support, but ultimately have put it down to something that “comes with the job”. And over the years, some have suggested that officer X or Y wasn’t really cut out for it in the way that others were.
And over the few couple of years in England, there’s been an inevitable impending legal frame to it – because if it isn’t quite harassment, it must be free speech – and so must be protected. What can you do?
The problem is that the impacts have been huge, and variously deeply harmful.
Here we are in June 2026, and I’ve already had six such conversations. I’ve also started to go back through my old notebooks and racked my memory banks for many of the previous conversations – and there’s been a pattern I might have missed.
Almost every time that it’s been devastating – sometimes resulting in long periods of ill health, sometimes resulting in resignations, always causing a deterioration in performance – it’s involved one or two individuals, almost always men where the officers have been women, exhibiting fixated, almost obsessive behaviours.
There’s a pattern of picking up on tiny details, very long written communications, and a sense that those doing it become slowly enmeshed into the workings of the SU – undermining confidence in the women I’ve encountered to people across the union’s structures and volunteer base.
Often, the surrounding assumption has been that what is being experienced is a personality clash – I’ve seen exhortations that the officer needs to meet with the student, sometimes facilitated, often not. That’s rarely worked – partly because it’s rarely the issues themselves that need discussion, but a set of behaviours that are very difficult to address.
There’s also been a lot of what I might call “classic HR” wellbeing advice – well-meaning stuff about switching off, not taking the job too seriously, keeping healthy or even seeking out counselling.
Rarely have there been any direct interventions on the students themselves – and rarely has the generic advice worked, I suspect because it’s not the officer that needs to be “fixed”, and suggesting so will feel like gaslighting.
The chilling effect
But as well as a high sense of entitlement manifesting as unreasonable levels of critique and scrutiny while masquerading as accountability and care for the union from an activist and volunteer, there’s another aspect that I’ve started to join the dots on.
The women involved have either told themselves, or been told by others, to withdraw – to leave the comms to the staff, to get on with the “behind the scenes” job, to pull the socials handles from the websites, and so on.
These are behaviours which are causing women to withdraw from student political leadership, to decide against re-standing, and to avoid encounters where they might be able to be accessed in this way.
The problem may be much wider than I realise – not everyone that’s experienced this will have sat down with me for coffee in the spring, and it may well be that other “women with a profile” in universities have experienced similar things too.
And I can think of countless women VCs who’ve had a much harder time than male counterparts, of research showing that women academics face much more personal criticism over their appearance or grading than men, and of the ways in which some society leaders or SU staff can face insinuations about their intelligence or leadership skills that seem to be gendered.
But putting this down to general misogyny or culture – especially in spaces which are being instructed to pay special attention to freedom of speech – may be a mistake.
Because while a pattern of a small number of fixated individuals offering up persistent and unwanted critique may not quite reach the legal bar for harassment, it still looks a lot like – and in many cases – is stalking.
And for those perpetrating it, and especially for those experiencing it, something needs to be done about it.
Diversity
It’s critical to address two common misconceptions when dealing with fixated behaviour given the well-understood rise in neurodiverse conditions on campus.
First, some automatically assume that persistent, obsessive behaviour indicates autism spectrum disorder (ASD). While some individuals with ASD may develop intense interests, fixated behaviour targeting public figures stems from various causes including grievance-fueled motivation, and sometimes personality disorders, or other mental health conditions.
Making assumptions about neurodiversity without evidence risks stigmatising an entire community while missing the actual drivers behind problematic behaviour.
Second, some accept or excuse fixated behaviour simply because it might be associated with ASD or other conditions. Universities and SUs have obligations to maintain safe environments for all members, including elected officers.
Neurodiversity-informed approaches can help us respond appropriately to fixated behaviour while still maintaining necessary boundaries. The idea isn’t exclusion but establishing clear, consistent limits that protect everyone’s well-being, all while providing appropriate support or referrals when mental health factors are involved.
Regulation?
Of course, for those in England looking at the OfS condition of registration on harassment, there may be issues to consider if we view officers as students who may experience this form of “low level” harassment – although the sections in that guidance that define the interrelationship with free speech are not helpful.
And because OfS’ guidance and regulation – along with most of the “changing the culture” guidance that prefaced it and is still used around the rest of the UK – is about protecting students, there’s very little that explores students as harassers of high profile figures like staff or student leaders. That’s arguably a major hole in the material that’s out there.
The patterns I’ve observed in my conversations with student officers over the years have a disturbing consistency – what we often dismiss as “accountability” or “part of the job” can actually represent fixated behaviours that border on, or indeed constitute, a form of stalking.
These are behaviours that disproportionately impact women in leadership positions, forcing them to withdraw from public engagement and undermining their ability to lead effectively.
What makes this particularly upsetting is that our standard responses – suggesting the officer needs wellbeing support, counselling, or simply to “switch off” – place the burden of change on the victim rather than addressing the problematic behaviour. That approach not only fails to resolve the issue – but can feel like gaslighting to those experiencing it.
A large seam of research is clear that these behaviours fit within recognised patterns of fixated individuals directing persistent, unwanted attention toward (quasi-)public figures. Rather than viewing these as isolated personality conflicts requiring mediation, we need to recognise them as part of a broader pattern that requires specific intervention strategies.
Elsewhere on the site there’s an explainer on the research around fixated individuals targeting public figures, how these behaviours manifest in university settings, and potential approaches for addressing them effectively.
It draws on established practices from various sectors and offers suggestions for how SUs might develop protection for officers while balancing democratic accountability.
Recognising these behaviours for what they are and implementing appropriate response strategies is important. It can create an environment where student leaders – especially but I suspect not exclusively women – can fulfil their roles without being subjected to persistent harassment masquerading as accountability. That matters.
