Oddity
Transparency, Fairness, and the Admissions Game
Judging from the common use of the word, “transparency” of processes is something we all admire. When it is easier to understand why a process produced the outcome it did, we are happier for it. “Fairness” of processes is something else we desire. Processes ought not to be biased in favor of some outcomes or of some people over others. But may these two objectives be in direct conflict? College admissions, a subject of perennial discussion at this time of the year, offer an illustration as to why the answer is sometimes in the affirmative.
On the one hand, consider a transparent admissions policy. This would be one that is objective or “meritocratic,” i.e. based on a composite score of one or more standardized examinations. A massive example is China’s gaokao, a two-day long series of tests taken by approximately 10 million Chinese students each year. The gaokao is the sole determinant for admission to almost every Chinese college, and high school students sometimes spend their entire final year of school in preparation for it; every Chinese teenager is well aware of the test and of the requisite score for a given institution. The Joint Entrance Examination to India’s most prestigious educational institutions, the Indian Institute of Technology, offers another example.
Let Us Be Humble
It is no secret that Harvard undergraduates are believed to lack humility. Widely perceived as high-achievers but also entitled and elitist, we jokingly embrace this stereotype, often alluding to it in memes or self-deprecating humor. When asked where we go to college, we murmur “a school in Boston” as we believe that this is somehow less pretentious than the honest, straightforward “Harvard.” Such cosmetic charades are harmless; however, our lack of humility has translated into a lack of respect for the very things that we pretend to be modest about.
It is clear that we recognize that we will graduate Harvard with a valuable academic education, but we sometimes seem to forget whence this education comes. In the past semester, there have been a number of undergraduate protests against the denial of tenure to various Harvard professors. I have no specific opinion about any one of these cases and I have a great deal of respect for any Harvard faculty member and their body of work. But I do find it troubling, and — depending on my mood — almost comical, that 20-year olds with not even a bachelor’s degree yet think that they are qualified to opine on the scholarship worth of an academic — oftentimes more qualified even than a committee of tenured faculty, each of whom has striven for years to establish leadership positions in their chosen fields. And of course, the forcefulness extends beyond promotion decisions to termination demands, as, for example, in the insistence that a faculty dean be “removed” due to his choice of professional client.
Provoking Thought, Not People
When I first decided to write this column, I was secretly excited to publish some of my most “controversial” views, hoping to draw eyeballs, and perhaps even gain some notoriety on campus. I hastily drafted an acerbic piece criticizing various political views with which a plurality of Harvard students identify. I proudly sent that, the first draft of my first ever newspaper column, to my father. Twenty minutes later, I received a text from him: “Your job as a columnist is to provoke thought, not people.” He was, of course, correct, and it set me thinking about the whole enterprise.
There is a difference between calling attention to one’s work via its substance and deliberately riling one’s readership. The line between tabloid journalism and what one might consider more “reputable” media is vanishing, as we prioritize sensationalism over discourse. To be sure, newspapers and other media are businesses in a highly competitive (online) landscape, and growing readership or viewership is of great importance. It must be increasingly difficult to market balanced, long-form content when the average human today has an attention span shorter than that of a goldfish. Nonetheless, a media market that sacrifices nuance in intellectual discussion and presents deliberately biased arguments with the hope or intent of going ‘viral’ is a race to the bottom.
Speak Softly, Love
Many have noted millennials’ unique affinity for hyperbole. We are never laughing, we are “literally dying”; we don’t have off days, we “want to kill ourselves”; we don't have close friends, we are "best friends forever." We willingly accept each others’ exaggerations and smilingly recognize their lighthearted nature. However, our tendency to overdramatize sometimes goes beyond frivolous metaphor into an inclination to use stronger, harsher language to convey our feelings towards any phenomenon, and this may have adverse consequences that bear recognition.
An example: The word “creepy” is often thrown around by young women describing the various shades of men that they encounter. An unfamiliar man asks you on a date? He’s “creepy.” A boy makes flirtatious advances towards you at a party? “Creepy.” A male classmate texts you back one too many times? Still “creepy.” Yes, of course, some men engage in creepy behavior, and I have no doubt that a number of these incidents actually warrant the label; however, the overuse of the word has meant that it has lost its significance.
The Soft Bigotry of Binary Politics
A few months before the 2016 election, an Indian-American classmate of mine was in conversation with two of his white female peers. “Who do you plan on voting for?” they inquired. He replied that he was unsure, and that neither candidate had appeared particularly appealing. “You’re not going to vote for Hillary?” they asked, appalled. He replied that he wasn’t so inclined, and probably would not vote at all. “You don’t know how to protect your rights as a minority,” they upbraided him.
When I heard of this incident, it set me thinking. Why do we reflexively associate minorities with liberalism and progressive thinking or, for that matter, religious people with conservatism? Surely one can be both a minority and disagree with many aspects of progressive ideology, or be religious personally but liberal in accepting others' beliefs? More generally, why is it so hard for us to understand that political beliefs don't come in neat binaries: Republican vs. Democrat, right vs. left, conservative vs. liberal? As a generation, we appear to have generally rejected perceived forms of binarism; why is it nearly impossible to accept that political views too come in a continuum — and a multi-dimensional one at that?"
Viewing politics in binary form and associating certain groups with certain beliefs (for example, minorities with progressivism) may also have disturbing implications. A recent study by professors from Yale and Princeton found that white liberals deliberately dumb down their discourse when engaging with racial minorities. The idea that minorities may consciously and intelligently choose to align themselves with ideas that are in some ways considered more “conservative” in today’s rhetoric appears, in many ways, to be an unthinkable thought.
When Kanye West, an icon of our generation, publicly embraced conservative policies, he was met with a deluge of acerbic criticism from the media. There was certainly nothing wrong with the idea of this criticism per se. West has the right to choose his beliefs and to make controversial statements; the press and media have the right to criticize him. However, West was often not criticized on the substance of his thoughts, but rather on the basis of his identity as a black man which was deemed incompatible with conservative ideas.
Media outlets made deplorable references to West’s documented mental health issues, called him a troll, and one CNN anchor viciously opined that “Kanye West is what happens when [blacks] don’t read.” I found it curious that people who claim to stand for diversity, and who often berate their political opponents for xenophobia and chauvinism, seem perplexed, even outraged, by the idea that a non-white person may disagree with them.
This behavior continues to pervade the political air on campus. In the ongoing battle between Harvard’s admissions office and Students For Fair Admissions, a standard remark of those defending the former is to point to the fact that SFFA is led by a white man who is using thousands of Asian students as pawns in his game to achieve white supremacy. Yes, SFFA is indeed led by a white man. But is it not impossibly condescending to assume that his Asian supporters lack the agency and critical thinking ability to have chosen their own path?
I am neither liberal nor conservative, nor do I identify as a Democrat or as a Republican. But in a world that views political identities in binary form, my refusal to pick a side means that I automatically get labelled as being part of the "other" side; in an overwhelmingly liberal campus, that means, most often, that I must "obviously" be on the right. We are all used to the open bigotry of the far right, but fighting this soft bigotry and asserting one's agency and independence can sometimes be just as tiring.
Aditi T. Sundaram ’19 is a joint concentrator in Mathematics and Philosophy in Eliot House. Her column appears on alternate Wednesdays.