The Hidden Cost of a PhD: What a New Study Reveals About Mental Health
It’s no secret that PhD studies take a toll on mental health — there are plenty of stories out there.
But now, we have some data.
A new longitudinal population study from Sweden gives answers that aren’t surprising to those of us who’ve been through the PhD stage — but they finally provide a clear signal.
Some study facts
Based on data from 20’085 PhD students entering programs in Sweden between 2006 and 2017.
Used population-wide prescription and hospitalization data to avoid self-report bias.
Compared PhD students to a matched control group of master’s graduates (same field, age, and gender).
Applied an event-study design to track individual changes before, during, and after the PhD start.
Before the PhD: We start equally
Before starting their PhD, future doctoral students used psychiatric medication at the same rate as other graduates with a master’s degree.
This means those who enter PhD studies are not in worse mental health than their peers. It rules out any “selection bias” in the findings.
More importantly, it suggests that any changes afterward are likely caused by the experience of doctoral studies itself.
During the PhD: The cost rises
Once the PhD begins, changes are significant.
The use of psychiatric medication increased by about 40% within five years of doctoral studies, peaking around the time most students graduate.
This wasn’t limited to mild cases — hospitalization data mirrored the trend. That indicates a severe impact on mental health, not just a higher number of students seeking help.
After the fifth year, when most PhD students graduate, medication use dropped again — but not back to pre-PhD levels, leaving a lasting trace of the mental health cost.
Photo by Toan Nguyen on Unsplash
Who pays most
PhD students of almost all genders and faculties were affected, but some were at higher risk:
Women experienced significantly higher risk — about 1.67 times more likely to collect psychiatric medication during their PhD compared to men.
Older students (those over 31 at PhD start) faced higher absolute risk, though younger students showed larger relative increases from their baseline.
Foreign-born students experienced larger relative increases in medication use.
Surprisingly, the only group that didn’t show a significant increase were students in the medical and health sciences — possibly because of stronger support systems or greater awareness of mental health issues.
Why it matters
This study is one of the most comprehensive to date — following over 20’000 PhD students using national health data rather than surveys.
And the conclusion, a realization PhD students already had long ago, is now data-backed:
PhD training, as it currently exists, has a measurable negative effect on mental health.
This doesn’t just affect individual well-being. It also influences who stays in academia, potentially favoring those with higher stress tolerance over those with equally strong academic potential but less psychological resilience.
Moreover, a PhD is meant to be a training of intelligence — but undermining its health component reduces the quality of that training. Society invests in this education but loses part of that investment when institutions fail to provide proper support structures.
A call for change
The findings underline the urgent need for structural reforms:
Better supervision and mentorship
Healthier work-life boundaries
Clearer program milestones
More inclusive, supportive environments
Supporting doctoral students is a long-term investment in the future of research — and a must, not a luxury.
If you’re a PhD student experiencing this — or know someone who is
First of all: You are not alone, and it’s not your fault.
The system wasn’t designed with mental well-being in mind, but awareness is growing — and that’s where change starts.
Seek support, set boundaries early, and remind yourself: your worth isn’t tied to your productivity. Your job is not your identity.
You’re doing something incredibly challenging. Let’s make sure it doesn’t come at the cost of your health.
And if you want more advice from this little corner of the internet, feel free to subscribe so you don’t miss future posts.
If you know someone who might benefit from reading this, please share it with them — it might be the reminder they need today.
And if you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear from you:
How is mental health awareness handled in your studies?
Are the support structures sufficient?
What strategies or boundaries help you protect your well-being?
Take care,
Alexandra