The two-part solution that transformed faculty confidence and eliminated “Zoom fatigue”
“We had one professor that kept saying that he looked like a ghost on his video.”
That’s Jeff Jones, Executive Director of Teaching and Learning Innovation at Texas A&M’s Mays Business School, describing what distance learning looked like before they fixed it. The faculty member wasn’t being dramatic. Under the fluorescent ceiling lights that passed for studio illumination, people genuinely looked washed out, shadowless, and vaguely spectral.
Amy Hurta, who teaches accounting communication at Mays, experienced the problem firsthand across multiple versions of the studio setup. “The only lighting that we had was the fluorescent overhead lighting,” she told us. “And it was not kind to anybody. I know I’ve earned the wrinkles on my face, but we were just highlighting those.”
The harsh, top-down light created unflattering effects that went beyond vanity concerns. Hair looked like it was “standing up all over the place.” Male colleagues were “literally scratching their heads going, this doesn’t look right.” Virtual backgrounds caused washout issues. The recordings from that era still make faculty cringe.
When credibility is on the line
For Hurta, the problem went deeper than aesthetics. Part of her curriculum covers professional communication and virtual presence. She teaches students how to present themselves effectively on camera. And she was doing it from a studio that didn’t meet its own standards.
“You feel a little bit hypocritical talking about some of these important issues in virtual presence when you know that the studio is not on par to meet those needs,” she said. “If we say that we’re teaching from a professional studio, it should also have that professional studio feel.”
This is the credibility gap that many organizations face when they invest in video communication without investing in the production quality to support it. The technology exists to reach audiences anywhere. But if your presenters look worse than they would on a laptop at home, you haven’t actually gained anything.
Jones understood this tension clearly. “We have faculty that are paid and volunteer to teach in these spaces, but think that they can do this at home or they can do this in their office,” he explained. “When they’re told that they have to come to a studio, we need to have a competitive advantage to show them that we have something that you can’t reproduce at home.”
The benchmark, as Hurta put it, was LinkedIn Learning. “When you look at a LinkedIn Learning video, it’s an effective production, right? It looks polished. It looks professional. It looks put together. And you can’t do that on your own with a laptop camera.”
The two-part solution
What Texas A&M discovered is that solving the distance learning quality problem requires addressing two things at once: the technology and the human support system around it.
On the technology side, the business school worked with Texas Film Gear to install PoE lighting arrays across nine studios. The lights run on network infrastructure rather than dedicated electrical circuits, which mattered because Mays operates in leased space where permanent electrical modifications weren’t an option. Each studio now includes customizable lighting that can be adjusted for different presenters, plus dedicated hair lighting to properly separate talent from backgrounds.
But technology alone wasn’t the answer. The second piece was creating a producer system. Jones staffed his studios with “instructional technologists” who handle all technical aspects during recording sessions. Faculty walk in, sit down, and focus entirely on their content. The 30-minute setup period includes personalized lighting adjustments for each presenter.
The producers themselves come from unexpected backgrounds: former teachers, a makeup artist with marketing experience, customer support specialists, IT professionals. None were broadcast engineers. After a two-week training program with shadow and mentor systems, they’re running professional productions.
“If I can do it, anybody can do it,” Jones said.
What the transformation feels like
When Hurta walked into the upgraded studio for the first time, the difference was immediate.
“I walked in and I was just thrilled. Finally, we have lighting. It’s nice because it was coming around at different angles and we could toggle how intense it was depending on personal preference or what’s going to look good. The lighting immediately made everything feel less harsh.”
The impact goes beyond how faculty look on screen. Professional lighting reduces the cognitive load that comes with worrying about your appearance while trying to teach.
“It does help with confidence when you see the little icon of you right there, you don’t have little hair frizzies flying up or just the harsh shadows on your face,” Hurta explained. “If you look polished, it helps.”
There’s also something about the physical environment itself that changes how people perform. Teaching from home, with its “Zoom fatigue” and household distractions, doesn’t produce the same energy. The studio creates a different mental state.
“There is something different about when you step into the studio,” Hurta said. “It’s a little bit more flip the switch, step into gear. You’re a little bit more on point versus when you’re at home. At least when you’re in the studio, you can be on your feet. You have some movement, you’re not stuck in a chair for an hour and a half.”
Students notice the difference. According to Jones, they’re “wowed by the product.” The visible success has generated interest from other parts of the university. The Bush School, the libraries, other academic departments—they’re all asking how Mays is making their studios work.
The bigger picture
Texas A&M isn’t stopping at nine studios. By 2029, the business school plans to convert eight of them into extended reality stages, positioning themselves at the forefront of immersive educational technology. Jones sees it as essential for preparing students who will eventually work in organizations that use these tools.
“If we don’t start elevating our game and bringing it to preeminence, we’re not leaving a legacy with our students for them to take into the business world,” he said.
For Hurta, it comes back to modeling the standards you’re teaching.
“If we’re communicating to them, what are the skills you need to be a professional? What are the leadership aspects or the communication skills? We’re modeling that behavior for them. All of that is showing them what is the expected quality. If we’re too low, that’s not going to prepare them.”
The lesson from Texas A&M isn’t that every organization needs nine studios and a team of producers. It’s that professional video quality requires thinking about both the technology and the human systems that support it. Good lighting matters. But so does freeing your talent to focus on what they do best.
As Jones puts it: “The lighting did the speaking for me. Once we had two studios, the story spoke for itself.”