The Power of Struggle
How trial and error and, yes, failure are essential to learning.
A black plastic bin sits next to the 3D printer in Exeter’s Design Lab, the collaborative markerspace in the third-floor physics wing of Phelps Science Center. Labeled “Scrap PLA Only,” the bin contains a jumbled heap of distorted pieces of polylactic acid (PLA), the biodegradable plastic known for its low melting point that is typically used for 3D printing.
Some of the pieces are stamped with perfect round holes; others are so thin and twisted, they resemble spaghetti. Instructor in Computer Science Sean Campbell, who directs the Design Lab, jokingly calls this bin the “bucket of failure”: a physical symbol of the students’ trial-and-error and problem-solving process to turn their digital models into 3D-printed reality.
In Campbell’s fall-term integrated studies course, INT455: Principles of Engineering and Design, students take full advantage of the hands-on, project-oriented environment of the Design Lab. “The course is all about the process of design: Test, make your adjustment, try again,” Campbell explains. “It’s incremental improvement after incremental failing, I guess you could say.”
Aside from the engineering course, and the spring-term course INT554: Design Thinking, most of what students do in the Design Lab is not for a class but for their own independent work, or projects for an activity like the Robotics Club. The lab is intended to be a safe space for making mistakes, with positive results for student resilience.
“The stakes are lower,” Campbell says. “Failure is not as consequential, and there’s not this effect on their future. The hope is that feeling spills over into what they’re doing in class. That sensation of, OK, I messed up, but I can do it a little bit better next time.”
Campbell tries to foster that mindset in his computer science classes, where making mistakes is similarly part of the learning process. Students need time to adjust to this concept, especially those who may be new to Exeter and reluctant to show vulnerabilities in the classroom.
“Students will fret over their code,” Campbell says. “But I say: ‘Just write it and try it. The machine’s going to tell you if it’s right or wrong.’ … It’s really just the backspace key and try again.”
The word “failure” can elicit a negative reaction from many people. No one wants to fail, least of all the highly self-motivated and intellectually curious students who attend Exeter. But the latest thinking in cognitive development, psychology and education illustrates how failure — in the sense of struggling, making mistakes and trying things that don’t work out the first time — is essential to the learning process. Creating a safe environment for students to take risks, experience setbacks and keep their minds open to the possibility of being wrong is crucial, and it is at the heart of Exeter’s Harkness philosophy.
Amy Edmondson, a professor of leadership and management at Harvard Business School and author of Right Kind of Wrong: The Science of Failing Well, writes about what she calls “intelligent failure,” which can be a key source of discovery and personal development. “Those who succeed significantly in any field are not people who have failed less often, they are people who have failed more often,” Edmondson says. Their success comes not from somehow getting things right the first time, but from trying, learning from their efforts, and trying again. “You don’t get to be a championship tennis player or an elite scientist or a judge … without putting yourself out there, and if you put yourself out there, you will have more things that don’t go your way.”
Another important step in reframing failure, Edmondson says, is choosing to actively value learning over knowing. This means not being afraid to speak when you’re not sure you’re right, to question your assumptions or to admit the possibility of being wrong — a mindset that serves students well around the Harkness table.
“Your peers stand to benefit from your risk-taking, or being wrong, or offering a different point of view,” Edmondson says. “You’re going to push them to be better, and you’re going to push yourself, too.”
Across departments, Exeter’s instructors strive to create an environment in which students can be unafraid to make the kind of “intelligent failures” Edmondson describes. The process of testing hypotheses in a science laboratory is one of the most clear-cut examples, but failure is also essential to learning in Exeter’s distinctive math pedagogy, which relies on an ever-evolving set of problems that are designed to be open-ended, with multiple possible approaches and answers.
Math Department Chair Panama Geer says the goal of each problem is not just getting a final answer, but the process of problem-solving and learning from mistakes. “One of the things that we value in the math classroom is risk-taking and daring to be wrong,” she says. “The process of getting to an answer is really where the thinking happens.”
The 3,700-plus problems in Exeter’s core curriculum, popularly referred to as Exeter Math, focus on recurring strands — among them optimization, symmetry, graphing, vectors and parameterization, and modeling — that build on themselves as students’ understanding grows. They are updated each year by Exeter math faculty, incorporating insights from the students and teachers who use them.
Geer stresses that for these problems, there’s not one right way to achieve a correct answer, and sometimes more learning happens when an answer is incorrect. “I’ve just said it today to a student in my first class, ‘This is incorrect, but it’s great,’” she says. “‘So let’s talk about why it’s great and what you learned.’”
This kind of thinking is freeing for students, Geer says, because it takes some pressure off and creates an open-ended, safe space where students learn it’s OK to admit they’re struggling. This can be an adjustment for a lot of new students, she acknowledges, particularly those who are used to doing well in their math classes without much extra effort.
“Our students put a lot of pressure on themselves academically, and we’re asking them to stand up in front of an audience of peers and be vulnerable and make mistakes,” Geer says. “The sooner we get them accustomed to that, the more productive they are.”
Geer keeps an eye out for any students who seem to be holding back in her classroom, perhaps for fear of being wrong. “I’ll just try and read their faces and say: ‘I feel like you have an idea here that you’re not sharing. What are you thinking?’” she says. “They might say: ‘Oh, well Problem 6 reminds me of Problem 25. Does that ring a bell for anybody else?’ Then suddenly people will jump on that, and those are beautiful moments in the classroom.”
For Geer, the process of solving Exeter’s math problems through trial and error, throwing out ideas and having peers both question and support you, is just one form of the natural way that we as humans learn.
“You wouldn’t think being wrong is something that would give kids confidence, but it does,” Geer adds. “We’re creating a safe space to be wrong, where kids are encouraged to take risks. By taking those risks, that’s where one dusts off the corners between understanding and lack of understanding.”
A focus on process is no less important in Exeter’s English classes, especially when it comes to the way students learn to write and revise their work. “Part of what is supposed to be happening in rewriting is not just fine-tuning, but also reckoning with the choices that you’ve made in a first draft and deciding whether they make sense when you step back and think about what you’re really trying to do with a piece of writing,” says Barbara Desmond, instructor in English and chair of Exeter’s English Department. “In that sense, revision is about confronting mistakes or realizing that your original direction was not the best or most fruitful choice. That’s part of how you learn.”
Like Campbell and Geer, Desmond seeks to create an environment in the classroom where students feel comfortable speaking up at the Harkness table, even if they’re uncertain. New students in particular can be hesitant to jump in because they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing, Desmond says. “One of the things [teachers] have to do is help students stop seeing those moments as high-stakes moments,” she adds, “and instead help them to see them as a step they’re taking along the way to arriving at a different understanding.”
As students grow more experienced, they adjust to the idea that the student- centered classroom is not just about everyone getting to talk, but also about learning to work with the group and build off each other’s comments to arrive at a fuller understanding of the material.
“I don’t think that any of us ever get over that fear of making mistakes,” Desmond says. “I think that’s just human. In a good Harkness class, most students know to pull what is good from a comment and move forward with it, or to suggest an alternative perspective. Ideally, they stop seeing things in terms of ‘that’s right’ and ‘that’s wrong.’”
Paul Muentener ’00 recalls the four years he spent at Exeter as a time when he was surrounded by people who shared his love of learning and intellectual engagement. “What I enjoyed most about Exeter was learning from my peers around the table, and getting perspectives that I didn’t have myself,” Muentener says.
To do this, he had to embrace a willingness to be wrong, at least some of the time. Now an associate professor of psychology at Tufts University, Muentener sees his time at the Harkness table as an important stage in developing metacognition, or the awareness of his own thoughts and learning processes. “It’s basically the knowledge of what we do and don’t know,” he explains.
In addition to teaching psychology, Muentener is director of the Cognitive Development Laboratory at Tufts, where he studies the foundations of how children learn to explore, talk and think about the world around them. While his research focuses on cognitive development in the preschool to early elementary phase, he stresses that the ideas and concepts he’s studying are applicable to most stages of development, and likely to adults as well.
Through his research, Muentener has come to see failure as a unique opportunity for learning. “It triggers you to focus on what you don’t know, on what’s not going right, on what you could learn more about,” he says. “In some ways people view failure negatively, but I think it’s one of the times that it really puts you in a space to learn more.”
To explain the learning potential of these moments of failure, Muentener often gives his students the example of what happens when a TV remote control, a cellphone or another everyday piece of technology fails. “You don’t have to think about how your systems and tools work when they work as expected,” he says, “but when things don’t work, it invites you to ask yourself why. Are the batteries dead in the remote control? Did I point it in the wrong direction? Those are the types of experiences that prompt that type of question-asking.”
Muentener also sees failure as important relative to developing what Stanford University professor Carol Dweck has called a “growth mindset”: the belief that you can build on your abilities through effort, good instruction and persistence, and that failing and trying again are a key part of that process. By contrast, those with a “fixed mindset” tend to see setbacks as reflecting their inherent lack of ability. Because of this, they may tend to avoid taking risks and putting themselves in situations where such setbacks are a possibility, depriving them of key learning and development opportunities.
“If you never face a challenge, and you never fail, you aren’t given the evidence you need to think that you can grow and change,” Muentener says, adding that failure “promotes the idea that you can push yourself to gain new knowledge or new skills.”
For Muentener, Exeter’s focus on ensuring that students with different perspectives and opinions are listening to and learning from each other — even when they disagree — is part of what enables them to weather the inevitable challenges that provide opportunity for growth.
“A lot of the Harkness method is realizing what you know and where the gaps in your knowledge are,” he says. “Failure is inherently part of that process.
This article was originally published in the fall 2025 edition of The Exeter Bulletin.