Columbia students want to become doctors, but can Columbia really help them get there?

Columbia’s pre-medical pathway entices students from all disciplines. However, Columbia does not publicly disclose how many undergraduate students pursue the pre-med track, how many ultimately leave it, or how many ultimately succeed. What is visible is the program structure: a centralized advising office staffed by three pre-med advisors serving all current and past Columbia College and Columbia Engineering undergraduates, alongside hundreds of students enrolled in the Post-baccalaureate Pre-med program. 

At universities across the United States, pre-med coursework is often described by students as a “weed-out” system, in which foundational science classes both prepare and filter aspiring physicians. In a 2019 study, roughly 35% of interviewees said negative experiences in so-called “weed-out” courses directly influenced their decision to switch career paths entirely. 

The standard Columbia pre-med pathway combines rigorous science prerequisites with Columbia’s Core Curriculum. Some interviewees characterized competition as embedded within course structures rather than simply a result of student ambition. Required premedical courses, such as Introduction to Chemistry, are designed so that the overall class GPA is about 3.2, with approximately one-third of students receiving grades in the A range (A+/A/A-). 

Similar grading caps have been debated at peer institutions, including proposals under consideration at Harvard, where some faculty argue that “competition is inevitable in any evaluative system where distinctions matter.” At Columbia, however, students said the grading structure can undermine collaboration and community-building.

“You compete for grades,” one pre-med biology major said. Rather than seeking support within pre-med cohorts, some students described turning to communities outside their coursework, arguing that competitive norms become amplified within pre-med spaces. “On top of the fact that you have to take objectively difficult courses, it is normalized to kill yourself over these courses,” another student said, describing what they viewed as a culture in which students compare hours spent studying, number of all-nighters, and complain about lack of sleep.

Other courses, such as Introduction to Biology, rotate multiple instructors within a single semester, requiring students to repeatedly adapt to different teaching styles and assessment formats. Some students said professors encouraged them not to focus on grades, a message they viewed as misaligned with the competitive realities of medical school admissions, where recent applicants averaged approximately a 3.75 GPA.

During periods of campus tension, such as the 2024 protests, an Introduction to Biology professor told her students, “I think we all need to take a deep breath and see how things develop,” reiterating that she would rather switch to no exam before opting to switch to a take-home exam, as other professors had done during that time. While some faculty do attempt to address student stress within the classroom, students noted the lack of broader institutional support, particularly within advising. 

Although Columbia’s advising resources are formally accessible at multiple stages of the undergraduate experience, several interviewees characterized advising interactions as evaluative rather than developmental. One student recalled being asked during a pre-health advising meeting, “Do you want to stay in New York, or do you want to go to dental school?”

Students described meetings in which advisors would “tell you like it is,” but without offering clear next steps. A neuroscience major said, “There’s no actual advising. There’s just an okay, you’re here, why are you here? It never feels productive to me.” 

Another neuroscience major reported that after three years of advising appointments, their advisor calculated their science GPA for the first time–a metric the student said they had not previously known existed. When their advisor calculated it, the student recalled being told that “when medical schools see a GPA that low, it signals that you are incompatible with medical school.”

Columbia publicly highlights its 6:1 student-to-faculty ratio as a marker of individualized academic attention. Yet some interviewees described a disconnect between institutional messaging and their advising experiences. “You come to an institution like this, and even though I know I won’t get the same attention as at a smaller school, they know my stats, and they boast about them, but then they don’t give me the resources,” one student said. “They send an email blast, and when you actually meet with them, they don’t tell you the information you need.”

While a pre-medical email chain is available to students as early as freshman year, students said these communications often emphasize opportunities rather than concrete guidance. A sophomore noted that “the opportunities are here at Columbia, but there really is no one telling you what to do,” a concern for individuals who lack connections, such as family members, in these fields.

A senior neuroscience major admitted that “for the most part, the experience is miserable. It feels like you can never do enough; it’s always looming.”

Rather than abandoning medicine entirely, many students described reconsidering how and when they would pursue it. Gap years, post-baccalaureate programs, and alternative timelines emerged as common strategies. For some students, the question is not simply whether Columbia produces successful medical school applicants, but how the process shapes those who remain.

While the pre-med journey may be uncomfortable for some, many students only agree to speak anonymously, citing concern that criticism could affect their standing within a system that ultimately controls access to the “Columbia Letter,” the committee evaluation sent to medical schools.

Columbia emphasizes strong acceptance outcomes, but without transparent data on how many students begin the pre-med track compared to how many finish it, students are left to measure success against an unclear benchmark. For those who remain, the experience often becomes less about confirming a desire to practice medicine and more about enduring the process itself.

“It has nothing to do with wanting to be a doctor,” one student said. “It’s about surviving the system.”

Columbia Medical School via Wikimedia Commons