Running Low on Midnight Oil

A recent report on National Public Radio presented scientific evidence proving that the brain learns less effectively when a person has had too little sleep. This is something that, deep down, we all know; but we suppress the knowledge, and pride ourselves on scraping by in a state of sleep-deprivation. But every Harvard student, and every member of the Harvard faculty, should pause to consider the implications: as members of a scholarly community it is our business to learn, all the time; but if we know how we could learn better, why don't we do it?

Last year, The Crimson published an excellent story about the amount of sleep that Harvard students get, and concluded that it is too little. We should not let this topic go away. We ought to confront a very dangerous reality, which is that almost all of us in the Harvard community--undergraduates, graduate students, faculty, administrators--are deliberately robbing ourselves of one of the most fundamental nutrients known to the animal kingdom. We may argue that high-flyers don't have time to sleep. But this deprivation is not unique to the academy. It is pervasive across modern American society. We sleep too little, and we are suffering for it. Why?

Part of the answer is that modern society makes it possible for us to live all night as though it were day, and offers us innumerable temptations with which to fill the time. Have you started to go to bed later since you were hooked up to the Internet at home? Did your parents start to go to bed later when they got television? Did their parents stay up listening to the radio, and their grandparents reading by electric light? Another part of the answer is the national work-ethic, which is closely linked to the ambition for ever-increasing prosperity. And another part of the answer is that we are embarrassed to admit that we need to sleep. If others can apparently manage with fewer hours of slumber, we feel it is an admission of weakness to claim the quota that our bodies demand.

Everybody who attends a 9 a.m. class, or teaches one, is familiar with the tell-tale clatter as one of the participants loses the battle to stay awake and keep notepad and pencil from falling off the desk. Much the same situation pertains in 10 a.m. classes too. For the exhausted victim, catching up afterwards by reviewing material on the course website or borrowing someone else's notes means a double investment of time. Starting the lecture schedule later in the morning would not solve anything; it would just prolong the day at the other end, unless Harvard drastically reduced its course-offerings. But who would want to study at a university with a crippled syllabus of over-subscribed courses?

Any healthy person can survive the occasional short night with no ill-effects. But let's be clear about the consequences of systematically depriving ourselves of sufficient sleep. It is not only our capacity to concentrate and absorb information that suffers. So do our inter-personal relationships, since tired people tolerate one another less easily. We run the risk of permanent disruption in our sleep patterns, i.e. chronic insomnia. We put ourselves under sustained and cumulative stress that can lead to physical and psychological collapse. If we drive in a state of exhaustion, we may pose a danger to others equal to that of a drunk driver. And even if none of these dramatic consequences ensues, at the very least perpetual tiredness is draining and takes the bounce out of life.

As a member of the Faculty, I of course don't believe that the reason students get too little sleep is that they are swamped with too much coursework. Nor do I think that any Harvard student would like academic standards to be lowered. At the same time, I sympathize with our students' enthusiasm for the societies and other extra-curricular activities to which they commit hours every week. We all share a common goal of trying to pack more into twenty-four hours than will ever fit until one of our alumni uses his Harvard training to invent a method of slowing the earth in its orbit. So where is the way out of this impasse?

The fundamental point is that we have to promote sleep in our scale of priorities. The adjustment may be small; a minor increase in the amount of sleep on a regular basis may make a world of difference. Since needs vary considerably, our primary-care physician can help each of us to determine the amount of sleep we personally require. We then have to do the requisite arithmetic: is 20 or 30 minutes' more sleep per night the equivalent of three e-mails to high-school pals, or one coffee-break or surfing two Internet sites? We also have to create conditions in which we can sleep properly. So we have to practice what doctors call "good sleep hygiene": wind down before going to bed, avoid caffeine after midday and don't sneak daytime naps.

We need to raise awareness about the risks that accompany sleep-starvation. At the same time we need to deflate the macho image that accompanies survival on micro amounts of sleep. We have to create a climate in which people who get enough sleep are considered the smart ones. We can start a campaign in the dorms and Houses advertising the combined benefits of adequate sleep, nutrition and exercise. We can make a concerted effort to reduce noise-levels after 11 p.m.

Above all, we must not feel defeatist. We can change the habits of our society. We can make waves out of Harvard that may eventually lap the west coast. I suggest we start by running a competition for a slogan with a suitable acronym. To get the ball rolling, what about "Students Of Merit Need Undisturbed Sleep"?

Kathleen M. Coleman is a professor of Latin in the Department of Classics.