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The Love Hypothesis

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“The Love Hypothesis” depicts love at Stanford and criticizes inequality in academia

Spotted: a fake-relationship turned real romance between a biology Ph.D. student and a biology professor, set in the familiar terrain of our very own Stanford University. Although I am not the biggest fan of romance books, Ali Hazelwood’s debut novel immediately caught my attention.  This is it , I thought to myself. This could be Stanford’s very own “Pride and Prejudice”! Then I bought the book right away. 

In “The Love Hypothesis,” author and cognitive neuroscientist Ali Hazelwood combines her two passions, writing and science, to give her readers a contemporary love story that reflects Stanford students’ frustrations with the elite institution. While delivering readers’ favorite romance tropes, Hazelwood also explores the fascinating world of biology and critiques academia as it exists today. In order to convince her skeptical best friend Anh that she’s in a happy relationship, Olive Smith, our protagonist and a third-year Ph.D. candidate, kisses Adam Carlsen, a professor notorious for giving low grades and harsh critiques. After the incident, Olive and Adam decide to fake-date so that Anh will continue to buy Olive’s charade and Stanford, convinced Adam’s there to stay, will fund his research. The two make a peculiar and even problematic couple because of their faculty-student relationship, yet their fake-dating persists.

Hazelwood began her writing career with Star Trek and Star Wars fan fiction, which she wrote frequently during the last year of her Ph.D. program. Along with her personal experiences in academia, these media franchises significantly shaped her novel. “The Love Hypothesis” incorporates emails between students and faculty members regarding research collaborations, portrays the day-to-day life of Ph.D. students in and outside of their labs and frequently mentions Olive’s work investigating blood biomarkers as an early-detection mechanism for pancreatic cancer, a real-life popular research area. Although Olive’s fictitious life is not a realistic depiction of life at Stanford, Hazelwood adequately portrays common student struggles and the work of today’s biologists. In the book, the emphasis on collaboration within the field of biology, depicted through Olive’s desire to partner with computational modelers, or even small details such as a graduate students’ eagerness to use the PCR machine first, reflect Hazelwood’s own knowledge and passion for the field. In addition, her love of Star Wars comes out through the characters of Olive and Adam, the former with a shy yet bubbly persona like Rey and the latter emulating Kylo Ren’s angst and detached attitude.

Reading the book through a Cardinal lens, you realize Hazelwood is not exactly campus-fluent. When Olive and Adam are setting the rules for their fake relationship, they agree to meet at Starbucks every Wednesday morning to make their relationship look more convincing, yet not once do they go to CoHo or Coupa. During their Starbucks dates, Olive constantly gets pumpkin spice lattes, and the two never go out to get boba. Considering the popularity of boba shops all around Palo Alto and the frequent door-dash boba orders during on-calls, it was especially peculiar that Olive and Adam did not participate in the boba culture at Stanford. Later, when Olive goes to visit Adam, he’s surprised to learn she doesn’t drive but instead bikes, as if he’s not seen the profuse bikes around campus. Compounding our confusion, Olive complains about there being no bike lanes around, which is very unlike anywhere near Stanford. It is also surprising that Olive never uses the Marguerite to get to the School of Medicine, a common practice among Ph.D. students. 

Aside from documenting the ups and downs of fake-dating on the Farm, “The Love Hypothesis” strikes a more sincere chord, as it doesn’t shy away from criticizing the world of academia. Hazelwood highlights how STEM academia is problematic through Olive’s experiences as well as those of her close friends and Adam. She acknowledges and critiques the chronic underpayment of student researchers, cultural sexism in academia, racism in higher education and the demoralizing attitudes of faculty toward beginner researchers.

“Committing to years of unappreciated, underpaid 80-hour workweeks might not be good for [Olive’s] mental health,” writes Hazelwood, condemning the lack of appreciation researchers express for student work from the very first page of her novel. She further depicts Olive’s struggle with rent and meals due to her low salary in an expensive city. Through Olive’s personal struggles, Hazelwood attests that current researchers are not paid adequately by the multimillion-dollar institutions they work in, which often withholds them from feeling passion for their jobs.  

Moreover, she repeatedly criticizes the sexist and racist practices in academia: “[Olive] was the only woman in the room, virtually alone in a sea of white men,” Hazelwood writes to expose the structural inequalities in academia that refuse women and people of color seats at the table. She reiterates throughout the book how the lack of diversity in Olive’s professional and academic environments makes her feel out of place and pushes her to doubt her own abilities, resulting in tremendous anxiety and imposter syndrome.

A breath of fresh air, Olive’s best friend Anh is characterized by her enthusiasm and optimistic outlook throughout the book, even in the face of constant gender discrimination. She is also the head of Stanford Women in Science Association and director of outreach for the Organization of BIPOC Scientists. Anh’s passion within the field and her positive perception of the future reflects a hope for change and highlights the importance of such organizations to diversify the field and create safer environments for women.

While it doesn’t feel true to Stanford at all times, Hazelwood’s novel presents both the beauty of biology and the downfalls of academia, all while narrating a gripping romance. Meanwhile, Hazelwood herself proves that one can follow their passions in STEM and creative writing simultaneously by excelling as a researcher and a novelist. For those who live for classic romance tropes, love biology or are looking for examples of how to reach faculty through email, “The Love Hypothesis” has you covered!

Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective opinions, thoughts and critiques.

Leyla Yilmaz '25 is the vol. 264 Reads desk editor for the Arts & Life section. She is from Istanbul, Turkey and a prospective Biology major who enjoys frequent trips to the bookstore and collecting cacti. Contact the Daily's Arts & Life section at arts ‘at’ stanforddaily.com.

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The Love Hypothesis Kindle Edition

• Print length 383 pages
• Language English
• Sticky notes On Kindle Scribe
• Publisher Berkley
• Publication date September 14, 2021
• File size 3306 KB
• Page Flip Enabled
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Chapter One

Hypothesis: When given a choice between A (a slightly inconveniencing situation) and B (a colossal shitshow with devastating consequences), I will inevitably end up selecting B.

In Olive's defense, the man didn't seem to mind the kiss too much.

It did take him a moment to adjust-perfectly understandable, given the sudden circumstances. It was an awkward, uncomfortable, somewhat painful minute, in which Olive was simultaneously smashing her lips against his and pushing herself as high as her toes would extend to keep her mouth at the same level as his face. Did he have to be so tall? The kiss must have looked like some clumsy headbutt, and she grew anxious that she was not going to be able to pull the whole thing off. Her friend Anh, whom Olive had spotted coming her way a few seconds ago, was going to take one look at this and know at once that Olive and Kiss Dude couldn't possibly be two people in the middle of a date.

Then that agonizingly slow moment went by, and the kiss became . . . different. The man inhaled sharply and inclined his head a tiny bit, making Olive feel less like a squirrel monkey climbing a baobab tree, and his hands-which were large and pleasantly warm in the AC of the hallway-closed around her waist. They slid up a few inches, coming to wrap around Olive's rib cage and holding her to himself. Not too close, and not too far.

It was more of a prolonged peck than anything, but it was quite nice, and for the life span of a few seconds Olive forgot a large number of things, including the fact that she was pressed against a random, unknown dude. That she'd barely had the time to whisper "Can I please kiss you?" before locking lips with him. That what had originally driven her to put on this entire show was the hope of fooling Anh, her best friend in the whole world.

But a good kiss will do that: make a girl forget herself for a while. Olive found herself melting into a broad, solid chest that showed absolutely no give. Her hands traveled from a defined jaw into surprisingly thick and soft hair, and then-then she heard herself sigh, as if already out of breath, and that's when it hit her like a brick on the head, the realization that- No. No.

Nope, nope, no.

She should not be enjoying this. Random dude, and all that.

Olive gasped and pushed herself away from him, frantically looking for Anh. In the 11:00 p.m. bluish glow of the biology labs' hallway, her friend was nowhere to be seen. Weird. Olive was sure she had spotted her a few seconds earlier.

Kiss Dude, on the other hand, was standing right in front of her, lips parted, chest rising and a weird light flickering in his eyes, which was exactly when it dawned on her, the enormity of what she had just done. Of who she had just-

Fuck her life.

Fuck. Her. Life.

Because Dr. Adam Carlsen was a known ass.

This fact was not remarkable in and of itself, as in academia every position above the graduate student level (Olive's level, sadly) required some degree of assness in order to be held for any length of time, with tenured faculty at the very peak of the ass pyramid. Dr. Carlsen, though-he was exceptional. At least if the rumors were anything to go by.

He was the reason Olive's roommate, Malcolm, had to completely scrap two research projects and would likely end up graduating a year late; the one who had made Jeremy throw up from anxiety before his qualifying exams; the sole culprit for half the students in the department being forced to postpone their thesis defenses. Joe, who used to be in Olive's cohort and would take her to watch out-of-focus European movies with microscopic subtitles every Thursday night, had been a research assistant in Carlsen's lab, but he'd decided to drop out six months into it for "reasons." It was probably for the best, since most of Carlsen's remaining graduate assistants had perennially shaky hands and often looked like they hadn't slept in a year.

Dr. Carlsen might have been a young academic rock star and biology's wunderkind, but he was also mean and hypercritical, and it was obvious in the way he spoke, in the way he carried himself, that he thought himself the only person doing decent science within the Stanford biology department. Within the entire world, probably. He was a notoriously moody, obnoxious, terrifying dick.

And Olive had just kissed him.

She wasn't sure how long the silence lasted-only that he was the one to break it. He stood in front of Olive, ridiculously intimidating with dark eyes and even darker hair, staring down from who knows how many inches above six feet-he must have been over half a foot taller than she was. He scowled, an expression that she recognized from seeing him attend the departmental seminar, a look that usually preceded him raising his hand to point out some perceived fatal flaw in the speaker's work.

Adam Carlsen. Destroyer of research careers , Olive had once overheard her adviser say.

It's okay. It's fine. Totally fine. She was just going to pretend nothing had happened, nod at him politely, and tiptoe her way out of here. Yes, solid plan.

"Did you . . . Did you just kiss me?" He sounded puzzled, and maybe a little out of breath. His lips were full and plump and . . . God. Kissed. There was simply no way Olive could get away with denying what she had just done.

Still, it was worth a try.

Surprisingly, it seemed to work.

"Ah. Okay, then." Carlsen nodded and turned around, looking vaguely disoriented. He took a couple of steps down the hallway, reached the water fountain-maybe where he'd been headed in the first place.

Olive was starting to believe that she might actually be off the hook when he halted and turned back with a skeptical expression.

"Are you sure?"

"I-" She buried her face in her hands. "It's not the way it looks."

"Okay. I . . . Okay," he repeated slowly. His voice was deep and low and sounded a lot like he was on his way to get ting mad. Like maybe he was already mad. "What's going on here?"

There was simply no way to explain this. Any normal person would have found Olive's situation odd, but Adam Carlsen, who obviously considered empathy a bug and not a feature of humanity, could never understand. She let her hands fall to her sides and took a deep breath.

"I . . . listen, I don't mean to be rude, but this is really none of your business."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he nodded. "Yes. Of course." He must be getting back into his usual groove, because his tone had lost some of its surprise and was back to normal-dry. Laconic. "I'll just go back to my office and begin to work on my Title IX complaint."

Olive exhaled in relief. "Yeah. That would be great, since- Wait. Your what?"

He cocked his head. "Title IX is a federal law that protects against sexual misconduct within academic settings-"

"I know what Title IX is."

"I see. So you willfully chose to disregard it."

"I- What? No. No, I didn't!"

He shrugged. "I must be mistaken, then. Someone else must have assaulted me."

"Assault-I didn't 'assault' you."

"You did kiss me."

"But not really ."

"Without first securing my consent."

"I asked if I could kiss you!"

"And then did so without waiting for my response."

"What? You said yes."

"Excuse me?"

She frowned. "I asked if I could kiss you, and you said yes."

"Incorrect. You asked if you could kiss me and I snorted."

"I'm pretty sure I heard you said yes."

He lifted one eyebrow, and for a minute Olive let herself daydream of drowning someone. Dr. Carlsen. Herself. Both sounded like great options.

"Listen, I'm really sorry. It was a weird situation. Can we just forget that this happened?"

He studied her for a long moment, his angular face serious and something else, something that she couldn't quite decipher because she was too busy noticing all over again how damn towering and broad he was. Just massive. Olive had always been slight, just this side of too slender, but girls who are five eight rarely felt diminutive. At least until they found themselves standing next to Adam Carlsen. She'd known that he was tall, of course, from seeing him around the department or walking across campus, from sharing the elevator with him, but they'd never interacted. Never been this close.

Except for a second ago, Olive. When you almost put your tongue in his-

"Is something wrong?" He sounded almost concerned.

"What? No. No, there isn't."

"Because," he continued calmly, "kissing a stranger at midnight in a science lab might be a sign that there is."

"There isn't."

Carlsen nodded, thoughtful. "Very well. Expect mail in the next few days, then." He began to walk past her, and she turned to yell after him.

"You didn't even ask my name!"

"I'm sure anyone could figure it out, since you must have swiped your badge to get in the labs area after hours. Have a good night."

"Wait!" She leaned forward and stopped him with a hand on his wrist. He paused immediately, even though it was obvious that it would take him no effort to free himself, and stared pointedly at the spot where her fingers had wrapped around his skin-right below a wristwatch that probably cost half her yearly graduate salary. Or all of it.

She let go of him at once and took one step back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"The kiss. Explain."

Olive bit into her lower lip. She had truly screwed herself over. She had to tell him, now. "Anh Pham." She looked around to make sure Anh was really gone. "The girl who was passing by. She's a graduate student in the biology department."

Carlsen gave no indication of knowing who Anh was.

"Anh has . . ." Olive pushed a strand of brown hair behind her ear. This was where the story became embarrassing. Complicated, and a little juvenile sounding. "I was seeing this guy in the department. Jeremy Langley, he has red hair and works with Dr. . . . Anyway, we went out just a couple of times, and then I brought him to Anh's birthday party, and they just sort of hit it off and-"

Olive shut her eyes. Which was probably a bad idea, because now she could see it painted on her lids, how her best friend and her date had bantered in that bowling alley, as if they'd known each other their whole lives; the never-exhausted topics of conversation, the laughter, and then, at the end of the night, Jeremy following Anh's every move with his gaze. It had been painfully clear who he was interested in. Olive waved a hand and tried for a smile.

"Long story short, after Jeremy and I ended things he asked Anh out. She said no because of . . . girl code and all that, but I can tell that she really likes him. She's afraid to hurt my feelings, and no matter how many times I told her it was fine she wouldn't believe me."

Not to mention that the other day I overheard her confess to our friend Malcolm that she thought Jeremy was awesome, but she could never betray me by going out with him, and she sounded so dejected. Disappointed and insecure, not at all like the spunky, larger-than-life Anh I am used to.

"So I just lied and told her that I was already dating someone else. Because she's one of my closest friends and I'd never seen her like a guy this much and I want her to have the good things she deserves and I'm positive that she would do the same for me and-" Olive realized that she was rambling and that Carlsen couldn't have cared less. She stopped and swallowed, even though her mouth felt dry. "Tonight. I told her I'd be on a date tonight ."

"Ah." His expression was unreadable.

"But I'm not. So I decided to come in to work on an experiment, but Anh showed up, too. She wasn't supposed to be here. But she was. Coming this way. And I panicked-well." Olive wiped a hand down her face. "I didn't really think."

Carlsen didn't say anything, but it was there in his eyes that he was thinking. Obviously.

"I just needed her to believe that I was on a date."

He nodded. "So you kissed the first person you saw in the hallway. Perfectly logical."

Olive winced. "When you put it like that, perhaps it wasn't my best moment."

"But it wasn't my worst, either! I'm pretty sure Anh saw us. Now she'll think that I was on a date with you and she'll hopefully feel free to go out with Jeremy and-" She shook her head. "Listen. I'm so, so sorry about the kiss."

"Please, don't report me. I really thought I heard you say yes. I promise I didn't mean to . . ."

Suddenly, the enormity of what she had just done fully dawned on her. She had just kissed a random guy, a guy who happened to be the most notoriously unpleasant faculty member in the biology department. She'd misunderstood a snort for consent, she'd basically attacked him in the hallway, and now he was staring at her in that odd, pensive way, so large and focused and close to her, and . . .

Maybe it was the late night. Maybe it was that her last coffee had been sixteen hours ago. Maybe it was Adam Carlsen looking down at her, like that. All of a sudden, this entire situation was just too much.

"Actually, you're absolutely right. And I am so sorry. If you felt in any way harassed by me, you really should report me, because it's only fair. It was a horrible thing to do, though I really didn't want to . . . Not that my intentions matter; it's more like your perception of . . ."

Crap, crap, crap.

"I'm going to leave now, okay? Thank you, and . . . I am so, so, so sorry." Olive spun around on her heels and ran away down the hallway.

"Olive," she heard him call after her. "Olive, wait-"

She didn't stop. She sprinted down the stairs to the first floor and then out the building and across the pathways of the sparsely lit Stanford campus, running past a girl walking her dog and a group of students laughing in front of the library. She continued until she was standing in front of her apartment's door, stopping only to unlock it, making a beeline for her room in the hope of avoiding her roommate and whoever he might have brought home tonight. It wasn’t until she slumped on her bed, staring at the glow‑in‑the- dark stars glued to her ceiling, that she realized that she had neglected to check on her lab mice. She had also left her laptop on her bench and her sweatshirt somewhere in the lab, and she had completely forgotten to stop at the store and buy the coffee she’d promised Malcolm she’d get for tomorrow morning. Shit. What a disaster of a day. It never occurred to Olive that Dr. Adam Carlsen— known ass— had called her by her name.

Product details

• ASIN ‏ : ‎ B08T6XN4FP
• Publisher ‏ : ‎ Berkley (September 14, 2021)
• Publication date ‏ : ‎ September 14, 2021
• Language ‏ : ‎ English
• File size ‏ : ‎ 3306 KB
• Text-to-Speech ‏ : ‎ Enabled
• Screen Reader ‏ : ‎ Supported
• Enhanced typesetting ‏ : ‎ Enabled
• X-Ray ‏ : ‎ Enabled
• Word Wise ‏ : ‎ Enabled
• Sticky notes ‏ : ‎ On Kindle Scribe
• Print length ‏ : ‎ 383 pages
• Page numbers source ISBN ‏ : ‎ 1408725762
• #37 in Workplace Romance eBooks
• #50 in Workplace Romance
• #320 in Romantic Comedy (Kindle Store)

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About the author

Ali hazelwood.

Ali Hazelwood is a multi-published author—alas, of peer-reviewed articles about brain science, in which no one makes out and the ever after is not always happy. Originally from Italy, she lived in Germany and Japan before moving to the U.S. to pursue a Ph.D. in neuroscience. She recently became a professor, which absolutely terrifies her. When Ali is not at work, she can be found running, crocheting, eating cake pops, or watching sci-fi movies with her two feline overlords (and her slightly-less-feline husband).

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The Love Hypothesis

By ali hazelwood on tour, by ali hazelwood on tour read by callie dalton and teddy hamilton, category: contemporary romance, category: contemporary romance | audiobooks.

Sep 14, 2021 | ISBN 9780593336823 | 5-1/2 x 8-1/4 --> | ISBN 9780593336823 --> Buy

Sep 14, 2021 | ISBN 9780593336830 | ISBN 9780593336830 --> Buy

Sep 14, 2021 | 712 Minutes | ISBN 9780593457573 --> Buy

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Sep 14, 2021 | ISBN 9780593336823

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712 Minutes

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About The Love Hypothesis

The Instant New York Times Bestseller and TikTok Sensation! As seen on THE VIEW! A BuzzFeed Best Summer Read of 2021 When a fake relationship between scientists meets the irresistible force of attraction, it throws one woman’s carefully calculated theories on love into chaos. As a third-year Ph.D. candidate, Olive Smith doesn’t believe in lasting romantic relationships–but her best friend does, and that’s what got her into this situation. Convincing Anh that Olive is dating and well on her way to a happily ever after was always going to take more than hand-wavy Jedi mind tricks: Scientists require proof. So, like any self-respecting biologist, Olive panics and kisses the first man she sees. That man is none other than Adam Carlsen, a young hotshot professor–and well-known ass. Which is why Olive is positively floored when Stanford’s reigning lab tyrant agrees to keep her charade a secret and be her fake boyfriend. But when a big science conference goes haywire, putting Olive’s career on the Bunsen burner, Adam surprises her again with his unyielding support and even more unyielding…six-pack abs. Suddenly their little experiment feels dangerously close to combustion. And Olive discovers that the only thing more complicated than a hypothesis on love is putting her own heart under the microscope.

Now see Adam pine for Olive in a special bonus chapter! The Instant New York Times Bestseller and TikTok Sensation! As seen on THE VIEW! A BuzzFeed Best Summer Read of 2021 When a fake relationship between scientists meets the irresistible force of attraction, it throws one woman’s carefully calculated theories on love into chaos. As a third-year Ph.D. candidate, Olive Smith doesn’t believe in lasting romantic relationships–but her best friend does, and that’s what got her into this situation. Convincing Anh that Olive is dating and well on her way to a happily ever after was always going to take more than hand-wavy Jedi mind tricks: Scientists require proof. So, like any self-respecting biologist, Olive panics and kisses the first man she sees. That man is none other than Adam Carlsen, a young hotshot professor–and well-known ass. Which is why Olive is positively floored when Stanford’s reigning lab tyrant agrees to keep her charade a secret and be her fake boyfriend. But when a big science conference goes haywire, putting Olive’s career on the Bunsen burner, Adam surprises her again with his unyielding support and even more unyielding…six-pack abs. Suddenly their little experiment feels dangerously close to combustion. And Olive discovers that the only thing more complicated than a hypothesis on love is putting her own heart under the microscope.

Listen to a sample from The Love Hypothesis

Also by ali hazelwood.

About Ali Hazelwood

Ali Hazelwood is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Love, Theoretically and The Love Hypothesis, as well as a writer of peer-reviewed articles about brain science, in which no one makes out and the ever after is not always happy. Originally from Italy,… More about Ali Hazelwood

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An Indie Next Pick! “A literary breakthrough… The Love Hypothesis is a self-assured debut, and we hypothesize it’s just the first bit of greatness we’ll see from an author who somehow has the audacity to be both an academic powerhouse and divinely talented novelist.”— Entertainment Weekly “ C ontemporary romance’s unicorn: the elusive marriage of deeply brainy and delightfully escapist… The Love Hypothesis has wild commercial appeal but the quieter secret is that there is a specific audience, made up of all of the Olives in the world, who have deeply, ardently waited for this exact book.”—Christina Lauren, New York Times bestselling author “Funny, sexy and smart, Ali Hazelwood did a terrific job with The Love Hypothesis .”—Mariana Zapata, New York Times bestselling author “This tackles one of my favorite tropes—Grumpy meets Sunshine—in a fun and utterly endearing way…I loved the nods towards fandom and romance novels, and I couldn’t put it down. Highly recommended!”—Jessica Clare, New York Times bestselling author “Pure slow-burning gold with lots of chemistry.”—Popsugar “A beautifully written romantic comedy with a heroine you will instantly fall in love with, The Love Hypothesis is destined to earn a place on your keeper shelf.”—Elizabeth Everett, author of A Lady’s Formula for Love “Smart, witty dialog and a diverse cast of likable secondary characters…A realistic, amusing novel that readers won’t be able to put down.”— Library Journal, starred review “Hilarious and heartwarming, The Love Hypothesis is romantic comedy at its best…a perfect amalgamation of sex and science, sure to appeal to readers of Christina Lauren or Abby Jimenez.”—Shelf Awareness “With whip-smart and endearing characters, snappy prose, and a quirky take on a favorite trope, Hazelwood convincingly navigates the fraught shoals of academia…This smart, sexy contemporary should delight a wide swath of romance lovers.”— Publishers Weekly

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