Anne Applebaum describes the generation of students coming of age these days as "The Busiest Generation" in her op-ed in The Washington Post today. Since one of the best parts of my job is that I get to teach and mentor members of this generation at Dartmouth, I figured I would chime in with a few observations.
First, the op-ed makes note of how competitive it is to gain acceptance to top universities. But the set of institutions with extremely low admit rates is not particularly large. (See this post from Vox Baby last year.) There are plenty of opportunities to attend fine colleges and universities without forsaking the freedom of childhood. And many of our brightest leaders come from these institutions.
Second, I have nothing against a competitive process, but I do regret that the competition takes place in the form of "more is better." More activities, more time spent on those activities, more lines on a resume. I wish the competition took place along the dimension of "better is better." Students should spend their time finding their true intellectual passions, which necessarily involves trying many different activities. But it also involves prioritizing them, committing to just a few of them, and letting the rest go.
Third, I think that some students seek comfort in being busy, even at the expense of being effective, because they lack the confidence to make their own choices and accept the consequences. They use their multitude of activities as a way to avoid responsibility in all of them. I call this "multitasking their way to failure," and it is amazing how many bright students I see engaged in it.
Fourth, we adults have set up the competition in the wrong dimension, and so I hereby absolve all entering students of their propensity to overextend and undercommit themselves to their activities. But I expect them to do in college what they may not have had the freedom to do in high school.
A mile wide and an inch deep
I call this "multitasking their way to failure," and it is amazing how many bright students I see engaged in it.
They learned this skill as they were juggling everything they had to do to build the incredible resume you need to impress the admissions people and get into the Ivy League school.
The process created this monster.
As one young man who turned down an Ivy acceptance (after visiting and spending time with students) said, "they have ambition but they lack passion."
I've found that many of the most interesting and engaged students are the ones who are NOT at the Ivies.
Nice. I love this blog.
Nice. I love this blog.
Elite Universities
I agree with everything said in the blog entry. What I find ironic is that most of the students at these elite universities will get a mediocre education. The students attend lectures in giant halls holding 500 classmates. The courses consist of superficial overviews of subjects followed by easy multiple choice exams that yield an average grade of B+. Lab projects are done in small groups instead of individually. The students graduate inadequately prepared for graduate schools or careers.
I teach medical school, and I have students from elite and non-elite schools. Almost all students struggle in my classes (pathology, pathophysiology, and lab medicine), because I make them think and not just regurgitate. The elite school grads have at least as much difficulty as the other students. (And, as a general gripe, I found that most students never had an essay exam in four years of college, even at places like Columbia or Yale. Their overall writing skills often are at the high school level. I still am astounded by this.)
Being busy versus being engaged
Third, I think that some students seek comfort in being busy, even at the expense of being effective, because they lack the confidence to make their own choices and accept the consequences. They use their multitude of activities as a way to avoid responsibility in all of them. I call this "multitasking their way to failure," and it is amazing how many bright students I see engaged in it.
Interestingly enough, this is a variation on an argument Paul Graham makes in What You'll Wish You'd Known. There are also facets of it in Undergraduation.
But I also think part of this malady is created by colleges themselves: since passion and skill and interest is hard to measure in anyone, let alone underdeveloped 18-year-olds, they instead opt for a checkbox 'n' numbers route, since those are the implements available, even if those implements are imperfect. Hence, frenetic activity standing in for genuine engagement.
Who are choosing the applicants?
People who did the same things to get into their own elite schools. They simply don't know any other way.
My son is an undergraduate at Dartmouth, daughter is a better student, more focused, only got wait-listed at Ivies...it's come down to credentials, not passion. You can't measure passion on the common application.
specialist vs. generalist
This is somewhat like a specialist vs. generalist debate.
It is also like investing in a balanced mutual fund, vs. multiple individual mutual funds that in total are balanced.
High school kids differ dramatically by region of the country and type of school they attended. It is hard to come up with generalizations across all high school types.
And passion and achievement are hard to know at age 18. Consider baseball. Great achievement can no longer be measured by home runs due to drugs vs. no drugs in prior periods, and probably other changes. But achievement and contribution can be measured by longevity (Greg Maddux). It seems to me that selecting high school kids at age 18 is a guessing game. Some may be able to throw hard and have great achievement, but may lack discipline and patience and resources for lifetime achievement.
And as for school making or breaking people: some people who did not graduate from high school become millionaires, as well as people from state universities that are not nearly as difficult to attend as ivy league schools. They also have decent personal relationshiops and family lifestyles.
Passion and achievement
are not hard to see at 18. The most successful people I've known can often be identified by age 9 or 10.
Any humble college professor can tell you which students are deep and focused after a brief conversation . . . but professors are kept out of the admissions office because those same professors likely don't give a whit about ethnicity, whether the parent gave a million dollars to the college, how many sports the student played, whether they volunteered at the food shelf and founded the high school peace club, etc.
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