I have every sympathy for him. Essay crisis is horrible, as it looms over everything. Once you pull your finger out and actually stop reading and start writing, it’s absolutely fine, and you have a real sense of satisfaction once you’ve pulled it off.
This may be an odd question, but does he actually understand the purpose of the essay? It’s a framework for learning about whatever the subject is at hand. It is also an education in critically analysing sources and selecting pertinent data to make your argument. The end product becomes the structure around which the tutorial is wrapped.
They are not meant to be perfect.
There are endless resources out there, and the skill is knowing when to stop researching and start doing. You have to learn to manage your time and to be pragmatic. These are useful skills for the future. Most of the time, you think you have nothing before you start writing, and then you find the writing process isn’t so painful after all, and you’ve actually produced something that’s actually not bad at the end.
As a lot of PP have said, they don’t actually count for anything, but when you’re used to being top of the class, a beta plus can really sting!
I was a medic, which I think made things easier than for my humanities friends, because we had so much time that was scheduled for labs/dissections/lectures as well as tutes and a couple of essays per week. If you wanted to do extra-curricular stuff and get a bit of socialisation in, you had to be pragmatic about how long you spent on each individual essay. I always knew that e.g. I’d have to do one essay on Tuesday and one on Thursday or they wouldn’t get done, so I had to bosh them out on that day with whatever data I had gathered at that point. It’s a bit like having homework at school. There’s a lot of it and you just have to get it done.
If you’re doing an arts/humanities subject, there’s a lot less scheduled activity, so you’re sitting with each essay for longer. It makes it easier to go down multiple rabbit holes until you either get overwhelmed by the amount of data you have already amassed, or you realise that there is more you could gather from the penumbra of what you already have. So it’s easier to get paralysed and into essay crisis. It’s also easier to procrastinate when you have more time. He’d have had a structured existence at school, and suddenly he’s having to manage his own time really well. Much better, in fact, than most people in normal jobs.
I also think this point of Hilary Term is the worst. It’s dark and dreary and it’s always raining. There’s nothing really important or exciting that you are aiming towards. Also, in the first year, it’s the time when you’re looking at everyone around you and thinking that everybody else has their shit together, and you don’t.
He will get through this, and he will be set up better for the rest of his working life about it. ‘Good enough is good enough” is a really important lesson for perfectionists in particular.
I would say that now is not the time to make rash decisions about dropping out. You can’t be too glib, and you do need to be mindful as there are some that sadly do succumb to pressure. However, a crisis in confidence at this point of the first year is terribly common, and most people stumble, but get over it. Seeing a face from home is helpful when you’re feeling this way. I can’t judge whether this is just acute stress or something more. Speak to him in the morning and make an judgement as to whether you do need to see him imminently or whether it can wait until the weekend. Encourage him to reach out for support at college. Make sure he knows that you have no expectations of him. Take any potential source of internal pressure about failing his parents that he may have built up away from him.
If it brings you any comfort, here’s something from my own experience:
Because the timetable of medic/extra-curriculars/social life forced me to be pragmatic, I had the uneasy nagging dread of the impending deadline, but I never had the paralysis of full blown essay crisis. However, I really had it in the Hilary Term of my 3rd year about my research dissertation. I wasn’t getting results out, no matter what I was doing. I remember, having gone home for the weekend, lying in my childhood bed crying, sweating, shaking and tachycardia, thinking that I really had nothing to write about, and that I was out of time and ideas. I thought that that was it. There was no way to compensate with the exam topics. I thought I was at risk of not even getting a 2:1! There was no way out and I was ruined! On top of that, I couldn’t tell anyone about it. How could I tell my parents that I was about to be a massive failure? They were so proud of me. I was the first in my family to go to Oxford. So I had to bottle it inside and just push through. I never told anyone about it at the time, not even my closest friends.
I had lost all insight and sense of perspective. Of course it was fine. I did have sufficient data and I did turn in a good dissertation in the end.
I thought I was at rock bottom and my life was ruined. However, I got through it, and I remember my pre-clinical as some of the best days of my life.