Introduction

Sometimes I feel like my job is to convince people to apply for opportunities that they don’t have a shot at winning. Probability bears that out. The odds of winning a highly competitive academic fellowship, like those I recruit and train undergraduate students to apply for, is around 2–4 per cent. While the competitiveness of undergraduate admissions at elite universities is widely known and hotly debated, relatively few, even within academia, might know what these fellowships are – and fewer still would be familiar with the low probability of winning one. That was the case for me, even after I’d accepted a position responsible for identifying and training students to compete for them. In other words, I hadn’t heard of the Rhodes or Marshall Scholarships before it was my job to help my university’s students win them.

In the United States, nationally competitive fellowships work with universities to identify top-performing American undergraduates and young alumni, offering recipients fully funded graduate study, often in the United Kingdom. Beyond funding, these fellowships provide access to elite networks, a social capital that often defines their value, offering incalculable long-term professional benefits. They’re also valuable for the recipients’ undergraduate institutions, which promote their students’ success as a marker for institutional excellence and prestige.

The growth and value of academic fellowships over the past two decades led to the establishment of dedicated offices at universities focused solely on identifying and developing applicants. This is how I found myself working as a fellowships advisor without fully understanding the ‘game’. Along the way, I’ve learned a few lessons about success – and failure – that have shaped my approach as an advisor: first, that to win, applicants must understand that winning isn’t the ultimate goal; and second, that the competitive, individualistic nature of these processes should be reframed as a team effort. In the model I’ve developed, paradoxically, applicants have the best shot at winning when they’re willing to help their peers – those they’re in direct competition with – even at a risk to their own success. In other words, I’ve had to teach applicants how to embrace failure, care about the success of others as much as their own and walk away with a positive experience, win or lose.

Failure frameworks

As a fellowship advisor, I found myself constantly grappling with questions about failure. I saw students pour everything into their applications, only to face overwhelming odds – odds that meant most of them would not win. How could I prepare them to handle rejection in a way that would not discourage them from pursuing their goals?

I turned to my colleagues in the field for guidance, reaching out to our national listserv with a simple request: ‘I need any and all resources you use to teach failure’. The response was remarkable. Colleagues from across the country sent me reading lists, TED Talks and academic articles, each framing failure in a unique way. As I reviewed their suggestions, three distinct approaches to understanding failure emerged, which loosely fell into three categories: psychological, ideological and political lenses.

The psychological framework was rooted in mindset, emphasising the power of belief in shaping our responses to failure. This approach, influenced heavily by Carol Dweck’s ‘growth mindset’ theory (Dweck 2016), encourages individuals to view setbacks as learning opportunities rather than final judgements on their abilities. The psychological lens offered useful tools for self-reflection, suggesting that reframing our beliefs about failure could reduce anxiety and build confidence. But I found it incomplete; it placed responsibility on individuals without fully accounting for the broader context in which competition occurs.

The ideological framework focused on grit and perseverance, suggesting that determination is the key to overcoming failure. This approach resonated with American meritocratic values – the idea that hard work and resilience can lead to success, regardless of circumstances. Books like Angela Duckworth’s Grit and popular stories of relentless pursuit reinforce this belief (Duckworth 2016). While this framework celebrates tenacity, I worried that it could burden students with unrealistic expectations, ignoring the structural barriers that some face and leading them to blame themselves if hard work wasn’t enough to secure a win.

The political framework offered a more critical perspective, examining how societal structures define success and failure. One of the most thought-provoking recommendations came from Judith Halberstam’s The Queer Art of Failure (2011), which views failure as a form of resistance against rigid societal norms. Halberstam’s approach critiques the systems that privilege certain definitions of success, highlighting how marginalised groups often find power in embracing failure as a rejection of dominant narratives. This political lens allowed me to see failure as something that could be redefined and even celebrated in defiance of societal expectations. However, while compelling, this framework seemed difficult to apply in the context of fellowship advising, where students must still navigate traditional competitive structures to achieve their goals.

While so many of the works suggested offered valuable insights, I found none of them fully addressed my students’ needs. Ultimately, I wanted an approach that balanced individual resilience with a sense of purpose that extended beyond winning. This search led me to develop my own framework, one that helps students reframe failure as part of a values-oriented, community-driven process.

Beyond winning: a values-oriented approach to competition

There’s a saying that goes, ‘second place is the first loser’. Our culture’s competitive nature is individualistic and outcome-oriented, leading to adverse effects across all sectors – from universities misrepresenting data to boost their rankings to the Houston Astros’ use of ‘sign-stealing’ technology to gain an unfair advantage.¹ These examples highlight how the desire to be ‘the best’ can compromise ethics, often with far-reaching societal harm. While these examples are extreme, the mindset behind them is deeply rooted in late capitalist society, showing up in subtle ways even in academia.

In my office, this winning mentality often manifests as ‘trophy hunting’. Many students at elite universities have been competing relentlessly since middle school. Nearly every academic encounter they’ve had – whether excelling in standardised tests or gaining admission to a top university – involves a cutthroat pursuit of success over others. This means I often see students who want to know about the Rhodes Scholarship but lack clarity on what they hope to gain from graduate study. When I ask what graduate degree programme they want the Rhodes to fund, they frequently ask what I think would make them more likely to win. This approach is driven by the desire for an achievement signal rather than a genuine educational purpose.

In many ways, the intense competitiveness and ‘trophy hunting’ mentality among students aligns with broader ideological pressures embedded in our society. As I work with students pursuing fellowships, I frequently encounter the idea that winning is the only path to validation and achievement. Many of my students – bright and driven as they are – have internalised these ideals, viewing success as a narrow path that requires outperforming peers rather than exploring how their goals align with their own values and aspirations.

The dominance of this outcome-oriented perspective creates significant challenges for students, often exacerbating anxieties about failure and diminishing the joy of pursuing their genuine interests. When students view fellowships solely as milestones of personal success, their motivations can become overly transactional, focused on building résumés or collecting accolades rather than deepening their understanding or fostering their long-term goals.

This ideology also reinforces systemic inequities, favouring those who can best navigate these competitive spaces rather than those most committed to the field or cause. For students from marginalised backgrounds, the relentless pursuit of external markers of success can feel particularly burdensome, as they may face additional obstacles in a system that privileges certain forms of capital – be it social, financial or academic. In a society that already amplifies disparities, equating personal worth with outcomes like fellowship wins risks sidelining students who bring different, but equally valuable, perspectives and experiences.

To counteract these pressures, I began shifting from outcome-driven conversations to values-oriented advising, encouraging students to focus on the purpose behind their aspirations rather than the prestige of specific awards. By centring their ‘why’, students can approach their applications with an intrinsic commitment to their goals, making the process itself more rewarding. Instead of viewing fellowships as validation, they start to see them as potential means for advancing their core values – turning applications into opportunities for growth rather than simply high-stakes competitions.

Of course, not all students are purely ‘trophy hunters’. Most apply to fellowships because they care about advancing their education and are passionate about their field, but ambition plays a role, too. My job is to help them balance these motivations. To address this, I’ve moved away from questions about which programme would make them more competitive and instead ask, ‘Who do you want to become, and why does it matter?’ Conversations focused on values and purpose often lead students to reconsider their reasons for applying, resulting in goals that are more grounded in personal motivation.

This values-oriented approach isn’t limited to fellowship applications; it applies equally well to other application-based opportunities. For example, consider Leah, a senior psychology major preparing to apply for graduate school. Like many fellowship applicants, Leah initially focused on securing admission to a top-ranked programme, seeing it as validation of her hard work. Through conversations with her mentor, Leah shifted her focus from prestige to purpose, concentrating on programmes that aligned with her mission to improve mental health access in underserved communities. Ultimately, this reframing helped her find a graduate programme that resonated with her values, reducing the pressure of achieving a ‘win’ and allowing her to find satisfaction in the process.

All for one: reorienting traditional notions of competition

In response to these competitive complications, I developed the ‘failure-as-process’ method for advising prospective applicants. This approach has become one of the most successful interventions I’ve implemented. Ironically, I’ve observed that the less applicants focus on winning, the more they engage with their broader goals, and, ultimately, the more likely they are to win. This is a win–win for me as an advisor – helping students clarify their purpose and build a meaningful vision is rewarding, regardless of the outcome.

This insight led me to experiment with a community-based approach to application development – one that encouraged direct competitors to support each other’s candidacies. Typically, when a university nominates multiple students for a fellowship like the Rhodes, each applicant works individually, often fostering a competitive mindset. However, I believed that a collaborative approach could strengthen each applicant’s work and create a more positive experience overall. But the thing is, this approach was born out of necessity.

In March 2020, the isolation of remote learning and the burnout from endless Zoom meetings tested everyone’s limits. That year, I introduced ‘write-ins’, where students gathered virtually to work on their applications together. During these write-ins students often dropped questions about their writing process in the chat or shared light-hearted remarks unrelated to essay writing. They were building community. These sessions created a support network, with students sharing insights that were as valuable as my own.

Initially, I worried that bringing applicants together might amplify competitive tension. But the benefits of community quickly outweighed my concerns. The 2020 UK fellowship cycle turned out to be historic for my university, with nearly every nominee advancing to a final interview and five receiving prestigious fellowship offers. But beyond the wins, it was the connections formed among the nominees that validated the approach. Working together fostered a sense of mutual support. For unsuccessful candidates, the sting of failure was softened. For those who won, the joy was amplified.

I’m now in my fourth year of using the community-based model, and the results continue to prove its effectiveness. While we achieve more wins as a group, what happens when students don’t win reinforces the benefits of this approach. When applicants invest in one another’s success, they walk away with more than just a single outcome – they gain friendships and future colleagues. Many have told me they felt genuinely happy to lose to a friend they’d bonded with. When everyone loses, which statistically happens most often, they still have each other to lean on. In this way, reframing failure as a shared experience helps students build a network that extends far beyond the fellowship competition.

Reframing failure: a few takeaways

Writing studies scholar Alison Carr finds failure an ‘ongoing process filled with potential for tactical insight’ (2023). This resonates deeply with my approach. In her work, Carr emphasises that failure should not be seen as an endpoint but rather as a complex, evolving experience that invites continual learning. Carr’s reflections reinforce the idea that failure is most productive when we see it not as a conclusion but as a source of actionable feedback – fuel for future attempts rather than evidence of inadequacy. By reframing failure as a dynamic process, applicants can maintain resilience and stay aligned with their larger goals, finding purpose even in moments of setback.

Competition is an inescapable part of life, and so is failure. If failure is inevitable, reframing it becomes essential. From my work with students pursuing scholarships with long odds, I offer three ways to reframe failure that apply to innumerable competitive settings.

1)   Reframe the ‘why’

Early on, I learned that one of the biggest barriers to success is allowing an achievement – or the lack of it – to define self-worth. Some students feel so anxious about failure that they choose not to apply at all. This is especially true for students who seek external validation, as the stakes of failure feel particularly high. To counter this, I encourage students to shift from focusing on themselves to focusing on something larger.

2)   Reframe the goal

A values-based approach to achievement moves the emphasis from immediate goals to long-term objectives, reducing the impact of any single failure. When students see a fellowship as a step toward a broader mission – such as fighting climate change – failure becomes less discouraging. By focusing on long-term objectives, students can maintain their commitment even when individual efforts don’t succeed.

3)   Reframe the ‘how’

Building a support system among peers fundamentally transforms the competitive process. While individual achievements remain important, working within a community fosters collective growth and resilience. The camaraderie of fellowship cohorts creates an environment where failure is shared, not isolating. When students include others in their journey, they gain both practical advice and emotional support, making the process of failing less isolating and more constructive.

By reframing competition and fostering community, we can shift from an individualistic view of success and failure to one that values resilience, learning and collective growth. The question we should be asking isn’t ‘How do I overcome failure?’ but ‘How do I stay committed to my goals and values, and what did I learn from failing this time?’

Note

1. 1 In 2019 the Houston Astros, a Major League Baseball team in the United States, were revealed to have been using cameras and audio signals to communicate the details of upcoming pitches to their batters – in direct violation of league rules.

References

• Carr, Alison. ‘In Support of Failure’, Composition Forum 27 (2023). Accessed 24 November 2024. https://compositionforum.com/issue/27/failure.php.
• Dweck, Carol S. Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Random House, 2016.
• Duckworth, Angela. Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance. Scribner, 2016.
• Halberstam, Jack. The Queer Art of Failure. Duke University Press, 2011.