When Protectors Become Predators: Ensuring Safe Campuses for Women

Published on: June 26, 2026

Nadia (pseudonym) arrived at university with the same hopes as countless students: to learn, grow, and build a better future. An outstanding student active in campus organizations, she trusted her professors as mentors. During her master's thesis, however, that trust was tested. Her supervisor asked her to visit his private residence to "discuss academic work," despite the availability of offices and meeting spaces on campus. Uncomfortable but worried about jeopardizing her degree, she politely declined. After her thesis defense, another senior professor who had served as an external member of her thesis examination committee began sending increasing personal messages that gradually crossed professional boundaries. Nadia's experience reflects a troubling reality that many students quietly navigate. When authority and personal interest become blurred, students are often left calculating the risks of saying no.

A recent allegation of inappropriate behavior involving a public university teacher in Bangladesh has once again raised questions about student safety. Yet the issue extends far beyond a single institution or individual. The real question is not simply whether misconduct occurred. It is whether our universities have done enough to prevent situations in which unequal power can become exploitation.

Whenever faculty-student relationships are discussed, one argument quickly follows: university students are adults. If two adults consent to a relationship, why should institutions interfere? The question sounds reasonable until we recognize that universities are not relationships between equals. Professors assign grades, supervise research, approve theses, write recommendation letters, allocate research opportunities, and influence students' future careers. Students depend on those decisions to graduate, secure scholarships, obtain employment, and pursue further study. The National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine report (2023) argues that sexual misconduct in higher education is fundamentally an abuse-of-power issue rather than simply a matter of personal behavior. Because faculty members control valuable academic opportunities, relationships involving students under their authority cannot be understood in the same way as relationships between individuals with equal power.

That power makes consent more complicated than it first appears. Even when a student appears to agree voluntarily, consent may be shaped by admiration, dependency, fear of retaliation, or concern about losing academic opportunities. A research study of graduate students across three University of California campuses reached a similar conclusion. Students described their relationships with supervisors as existing in "grey areas" where faculty simultaneously served as mentors, evaluators, employers, and gatekeepers of future careers. Many depended on a single professor not only for grades but also for funding, publications, networking, recommendation letters, and even degree completion. Under those circumstances, professional boundaries become essential rather than optional.

This unequal power also helps explain why so many students remain silent. Silence should never be mistaken for acceptance. More often, it reflects fear: fear of retaliation, damaged reputations, lower grades, lost research opportunities, or simply not being believed. UNESCO's recent multi-country study involving 25 universities and 13,691 students and academic staff found that nearly two-thirds of victims of gender-based violence never reported their experiences. Instead, many confided only in friends, suggesting that institutional reporting systems often fail to earn students' trust. Likewise, graduate students interviewed in the University of California study described hesitating to report inappropriate faculty behavior because they feared losing funding, recommendations, professional opportunities, or even the ability to complete their degrees. These findings suggest that underreporting is not merely an individual choice; it is often the predictable consequence of institutional structures that leave students feeling unprotected.

Bangladesh is not alone in confronting this challenge. Across North America, Europe, and Australia, universities increasingly recognize that faculty-student relationships involving direct supervision create conflicts of interest that can undermine both fairness and public confidence. Universities such as University College London, Harvard University, Princeton University, University of Roehampton, and University of Greenwich have adopted policies prohibiting or strictly regulating relationships between faculty members and students they teach or supervise. These policies are not designed to police private lives. They exist to prevent abuses of power, protect students from coercion, and preserve the integrity of academic decision-making.

The consequences extend beyond individual victims. If a student receives preferential treatment because of a personal relationship with a faculty member, every other student is placed at a disadvantage. Grades may no longer reflect merit. Research opportunities may no longer be distributed fairly. Even the perception of favoritism can damage confidence in an entire department. Universities depend on public trust. Parents, employers, graduate schools, and society must believe that academic success reflects ability and hard work rather than personal relationships. This issue is therefore about much more than protecting individual students. It is about protecting the credibility of higher education itself. UNESCO argues that educational quality cannot be separated from student safety. A university cannot truly claim excellence if students must navigate intimidation, unequal power, or fear while pursuing their education.

What should universities do? The answer extends beyond disciplining individuals after harm occurs. Institutions should adopt explicit policies prohibiting romantic or sexual relationships between faculty members and students under their authority. Confidential reporting systems must allow students to raise concerns without fear of retaliation. Professional boundary training should become mandatory for faculty, supervisors, and administrators. Universities should also reduce excessive dependence on individual supervisors by strengthening mentoring networks and ensuring that no single faculty member exercises disproportionate control over a student's academic future. UNESCO similarly calls for stronger reporting pathways, comprehensive prevention strategies, and survivor-centered support systems, while the National Academies emphasize redesigning institutional structures that allow abuses of power to persist.

Most educators enter the profession with integrity and genuine commitment to their students. Strong professional boundary policies do not undermine those educators; they protect them. Clear expectations reduce ambiguity, strengthen trust, and help ensure that mentoring relationships remain focused on education rather than personal interests.

When students walk into a classroom, they should see mentors, not potential risks. Their grades, opportunities, and future should depend on merit, effort, and achievement, never on their ability to navigate unequal power or reject unwanted attention. If we are serious about building universities that are safe, fair, and worthy of public trust, then we must stop treating these incidents as isolated scandals and start recognizing them as institutional challenges. When protectors become predators, the responsibility to protect students—and the integrity of higher education—belongs to our institutions.