Between Firmness and Warmth: My Teaching Philosophy

University students — and graduate students especially — are smarter than we sometimes give them credit for. They know, by instinct, which professor genuinely cares about their growth and which one is just going through the motions. They also understand the value of hard work and what it means for their development, even when there is a persistent gap between what they believe and what they actually do.

Many students begin each semester with real resolve. Those plans dissolve quickly — not because they are inherently lazy, but because self-discipline is a skill they have rarely been trained in, and because the distractions competing for their attention outside the classroom have never been more powerful.

The Formula I Believe In

My teaching philosophy, in brief: the learning process should be demanding — in the productive sense of the word. The requirements list in any course I teach is dense and long, designed to keep students genuinely occupied and producing for real hours every week. But that academic pressure cannot work alone. It must be balanced by something else: a genuine relationship of warmth with the student.

That warmth is not about flattery, and it is not about lowering standards. It is about communicating one clear message: I am not your adversary. All of this pressure comes from my investment in what you will take away from this course — not from a desire to exhaust you. And if a student struggles to meet a requirement as specified, all they need to do is convince me they made a genuine effort. That is enough.

Two Shores Neither Can Be Sacrificed

The problem is that warmth on its own, without firmness, gives some students an excuse to underperform. And firmness on its own, without warmth, becomes a psychological wall that stops students from engaging, taking risks, and asking questions. The real craft is holding both at once — and that is precisely what makes teaching this way demanding for me as well, perhaps three times more demanding than the standard approach.

A student once told me in my office: “I could never quite categorize you, Doctor — you are very warm in some moments, and academically strict in others.” I told him: I have no personal issue with anyone. The firmness in requirements is not a punishment. It is the only path I know to make a real difference in the trajectory of the person sitting in front of me.

What Has Confirmed This Path for Me

The thing that reassures me most is the messages that arrive after courses end and grades are posted — from students expressing what the course meant for their path, or telling me they applied what they learned in a real project or a job. These moments are the most honest evidence that the formula works.

This philosophy has become part of who I am gradually, through years of experimentation and adjustment and learning how to navigate the different temperaments, personalities, and moods of students. I do not claim to have arrived at a perfect formula. But I am certain that the pursuit of this balance is worth everything it costs.