Two weeks ago, I attended an industry event rich with math buzzwords. What is a journalist doing at a financial conference? To cover it, of course. I diligently took notes and photos for the speakers I was creating social media content for. But I was working from a place of journalistic knowledge and financial ignorance. A familiar sense of inadequacy held me hostage the entire time. The same one that first took root back in high school math class, when I was told I just “wasn’t a numbers person.” At the time, I didn’t have the language to call it what it was: math anxiety. 

And now, a decade later, I have the reflective skills to know why I had it. In short, Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics were promoted by my educators as superior fields, while the humanities were dismissed as a lesser pursuit.

But the same humanities I passionately studied my whole adult life thus far came in handy. I used my skills to make it through the anxiety and the event, creating the necessary content. But, of course, it made me wonder why I, now an adult, still feel like the 15-year-old who sucked at maths, what this says about education culture, and the empathyless future we’re doomed to if we continue down this path. Does the glorification of STEM and the marginalisation of the humanities shape not just careers, but our capacity for empathy, nuance, and critical thought?

Ironically, there are numbers to back this fear

Math anxiety isn’t just a “bad student” problem—it’s a measurable, widespread phenomenon. A 2024 South African study led by Dr Sakyiwaa Danso Boateng at Walter Sisulu University found that trainee teachers from under-resourced schools report high levels of maths and science anxiety, which they inadvertently pass on to their future students.

And it’s also an intersectional one, affecting people more depending on their sex, class, and more. Research by a PhD graduate at the University of Cape Town found that boys in the poorest study environments had higher mathematics anxiety and poorer mathematics performance than boys in more stable study environments. “It is important to teach boys to notice and reinterpret their feelings of mathematics anxiety. It may seem less socially normal for boys to talk about anxiety than girls, which may be harming their performance,” said Dr Katherine Morse. 

Age can also be a factor, with some studies showing that the fear starts young. Even more than a decade ago, the University of Chicago studied this phenomenon, noting that students start being affected as early as Grade 1, creating a generational cycle of discomfort around numbers. “Early math anxiety may lead to a snowball effect that exerts an increasing cost on math achievement by changing students’ attitudes and motivational approaches towards math, increasing math avoidance, and ultimately reducing math competence,” writes Sian Beilock, professor of psychology.

In short: it’s not just about whether you “get” math. It’s about whether you’re made to feel you should—and what it means if you don’t.

Soft skills are now deemed second-class

On the other hand, math anxiety can also be catalysed through the worship of its field. Somewhere along the way, our education system—and society—decided that if you’re not excelling in science, technology, engineering, or maths, your talents are ornamental. That’s a lot of pressure. Soft skills became second-class as the humanities were subliminally rebranded as luxuries.

We see it in South Africa’s literacy crisis, where more than 80% of Grade 4 learners can’t read for meaning. That’s not just a failure of language education—it’s a social emergency. Because if you can’t comprehend a paragraph, how will you interpret a contract? Or a bank loan? Or a constitution?

Say “bye” to critical thinking skills.

And tech bros are benefiting from this

When we create systems that are technically sound but ethically hollow, we remove all nuance from everyday discussions. The world becomes a lot more binary than is healthy, and profit becomes the word of the day.

Do I really need examples to illustrate this? The rise of Andrew Tate, conservatism, and alpha bro podcasts is no accident. These figures thrive in an ecosystem where dominance is celebrated, empathy is dismissed as weakness, and worth is measured in followers, crypto wallets, and hustle. I am not negating the value the STEM fields have contributed to the world. But the effects of their cons are large. Their messages echo the STEM-is-superior worldview: linear, reductive, obsessed with “winning” and allergic to complexity. The humanities, yes, also have their flaws. But it teaches us to interrogate power, examine bias, and sit with uncertainty. STEM without that foundation breeds a dangerous kind of confidence—one that mistakes technical knowledge for moral authority.

Look at the world’s leading tech figures—many of them brilliant coders and catastrophic citizens. Case in point: Elon Musk. The poster child for this new class of untouchables: a man hailed for his engineering feats but infamous for his disregard for labour rights, public accountability, and journalistic scrutiny. In Trump’s America, the Department of Government Efficiency, once led by Musk himself, has gutted decades of public protections under the guise of streamlining.

Without empathy, without nuance, and without the ability to pause and ask, “Should we?” instead of just “Can we?” we are left with tools rooted in STEM brilliance but no wisdom born from the arts.

And a first grader sitting in class scared to say their answer to a simple “2+2=?” question but may be great at dissecting literature becomes the starting point of this toxic system. What begins as a fear of speaking up in math class becomes a fear of speaking up at all.

kajal@explain.co.za |  + posts

Kajal holds an MA in Journalism, Media, and Globalisation from the Ludwig Maximillian University of Munich. She has previous experience in African-focused humanitarian media and transnational newsrooms. The enduring power of words in shaping the narrative of tomorrow remains the foundation upon which she builds her career.