There was a time when Facebook felt like one big food court. Students, bloggers, and foodies used to compete to write dramatic reviews of biryanis, burgers, or brownies. People used to joke about terrible service, argued over pizza toppings, and uploaded food photos before even taking a bite. It was good fun.
But somehow, that playful spirit has taken a darker turn. The same language, the same sarcasm, the same hunger for attention has shifted from restaurants to classrooms.
Teachers have become the new “service providers.” Their performance is reviewed publicly, their names are dragged into comment sections buzzing with criticism and laughs, their voices and mannerisms are mimicked in reels.
What used to be a complaint whispered among friends has become a public trial, open for all to judge.
At first glance, it may seem harmless -- just students expressing their experiences. But underneath it lies a deeper concern: Are we turning genuine academic issues into public entertainment?
And more importantly, what are the consequences: For teachers, for learning, and for the culture we are creating? Let’s explore the concerning transition from rating food to rating faculty.
To begin with, let’s focus on the positives of reviewing on Facebook. As students often feel unheard in formal academic settings, Facebook reviews promote transparency by empowering learners to voice their experiences openly.
They can raise their concerns and offer peer guidance about course selection and expectations. Positive reviews highlight and recognize dedicated teachers as well while open discussions help build a sense of community among students.
Why is it a troubling trend?
There is a difference between giving constructive feedback and turning a teacher into a meme. When students start rating faculty like they rate fried chicken, it devalues education as a profession. If we scroll through any post where a student wants to know about a faculty or a course, we will find a familiar pattern -- one word comment, a statement without any context, a vague sentence, maybe a blurry photo or a casual meme.
Then come the comments -- dozens, sometimes hundreds -- ridiculing faculty members, exaggerating classroom incidents, and disrespecting teaching styles. People who were never in that class suddenly have opinions. The comment section becomes a courtroom, but without rules. The teacher is on trial, but there's no defense.
One of the silent players in this drama is Facebook’s algorithm. Social media doesn’t demand evidence, it rewards drama. The more dramatic or insulting the post, regardless of the truth, the more it spreads.
The more people react, the more visible the post becomes. Controversial posts are prioritized over calm ones, sarcasm over sincerity. Even when the complaint is petty or false, the algorithm amplifies it, and the public accepts it as the truth.
Another key issue is who is most likely to post these reviews or comments on Facebook. It is usually students who are dissatisfied, frustrated, or holding grudges -- those who feel wronged or unhappy with a teacher’s methods. They are motivated to vent publicly and rally support.
On the other hand, students who appreciate or respect their teachers often stay silent. They may not be active Facebook users, or they simply avoid engaging in public disputes online. Their positive experiences rarely appear in comment sections or viral posts.
This trend also reveals a deeper problem: the normalization of public disrespect. The shift from “sir/ma’am” to mocking nicknames also signals a change in how we perceive authority, accountability, and decency.
Now, imagine a common scenario: Two lecturers teach the same subject in different sections of a university. Teacher A is strict, clear in instructions, but demands punctuality and hard work. Teacher B is more relaxed, often lenient with deadlines, and tries to make classes fun.
On Facebook, students quickly pick sides. The comments for Teacher A might be flooded with complaints about “too much homework,” “harsh grading,” or “boring lectures.”
Meanwhile, Teacher B might receive praise for being “cool,” “understanding,” or “easy.” The comment sections become arenas where one teacher is “villainized” and the other “idolized.”
What are the consequences?
On the positive side, they bring attention to genuine problems. However, the negative consequences often outweigh the benefits. Public reviews can damage a teacher’s reputation, especially when based on rumours or personal grudges.
A student’s bad day becomes a teacher’s permanent online stain. Reputation damage happens in minutes. Restoring that reputation, if ever possible, can take years and leads to stress, lowered morale, or reluctance to maintain high academic standards.
Moreover, such reviews create a hostile environment where teaching becomes about popularity rather than quality.
Another thing is when one teacher receives overwhelmingly positive social media attention; often fueled by lenient grading or a “friendly” classroom atmosphere; they tend to attract significantly more students than other teachers of the same course.
As a result, one teacher faces an excessive class load, sometimes far beyond the ideal 35-student limit and another teacher gets only 15 to 20 students. This uneven distribution is harmful for everyone involved.
In most private universities, student evaluation of teaching is already a regular practice. At the end of each semester, students formally evaluate both the course and the instructor.
If students are fulfilling this role honestly and responsibly, why is there a need for another public platform to express their concerns?
This situation suggests that the intended purpose of institutional evaluation may not be fully achieved. It also raises questions about whether university authorities and policy-makers are adequately responding to student feedback effectively.
This article is not about protecting bad teaching. It’s about how we talk about it, and where we talk about it. Real change in education comes from honest conversations, formal feedback, and mutual respect -- not from viral posts and cruel comments.
Students have the right to speak, but they also carry the responsibility to speak wisely. The faculty are not flawless -- but they are human. No one deserves to be reviewed like a plate of cold fries.
Yes, teachers should be held accountable. Yes, students deserve a voice.
Let’s not confuse freedom of expression with freedom from responsibility.
Md Inzamul Haque is a lecturer at the Department of English, Southeast University. Tanjila Habib is a lecturer at the School of General Education, BRAC University. Both are currently conducting research on student evaluation of teaching.