Do Nothing.

By Joseph Rago | Tuesday, May 11, 2004

The elections for Student Assembly president recently ground to a photo-finish and the results are in. The name of the victor escapes me, but I congratulate the losers. They were in for a thankless task. For a government that manages to be at once self-important and utterly irrelevant, the elections for the most part amounted to an unpopularity contest for Dartmouth's least-representative representatives.

It was heartening to note that barely half of the student body voted. Elections at Dartmouth are far from the superheated affairs at other schools. Most undergraduates, I think, find better ways to spend their time. Still, the outcome was close—the president-elect won by the knife's edge of a single vote. In the final tally, nineteen voters cast their ballots for write-in candidates who received only a single vote as well. Any two of them could have decided the contest, had they not tossed their votes to the winds; so too could have the countless students who chose not to go to the polls. It was a victory for not making a difference.

Lest you suppose I ridicule Student Assembly senselessly, allow me to provide a small example. Early in the race the candidates gathered at the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity for the portentous 'Andrew J. Scarlett Lecture Series,' where they expressed their views on the Greek system at the College. Most of the candidates seemed intent on increased SA involvement in Greek dealings—never mind that the Greeks already have their own leadership structure in place and that SA is not even tangentially involved.

The get-together was organized by none other than Kabir Sehgal '05, who, on top of his tireless efforts to promote excellence, was evidently able to make a debate happen this time around [see TDR 2/7/04]. Mr. Seghal, in addition to being the Scarlett Lecture Chair, is also the mastermind behind the BuzzFlood (formerly the BlabberForce). The BuzzFlood is the student group devoted to promoting Dartmouth's erstwhile "Brand."

So what're they up to these days? One of their latest attempts to promote excellence highlighted Dr. Brian Lacy, a gastroenterologist at Dartmouth-Hitchcock. Dr. Lacy contributed to a treatise called 'How Can They Eat So Much' that examined the phenomenon of "competitive eating." Despite the limited size of the human stomach, gifted eaters are able to jam pounds of food without vomiting, which the regulations that govern these contests prohibit. Dr. Lacy suggested that overeaters can pass undigested food directly past their stomachs; they might also be able to override their gag reflexs.

I don't mean to disparage Dr. Lacy, who I'm sure is a gifted physician; rather, I mean to disparage the BuzzFlood. Fine work, gentlemen, as always. But, please, tell me how I can override my gag reflex? (Now that Mr. Sehgal has become the Scarlett Lecture Chair, I've heard that his old post will be filled, quite capably, by an orang-utan.)

Contrast the BuzzFlood's motivated careerists with a genuine example of excellence at the College: Jeffrey R. Immelt, class of '78 and Chief Executive Officer of General Electric. Immelt recently visited the Tuck School for the third-annual Greener Ventures conference; the summit examined the inner workings of the entrepreneurial spirit.

In 2003 GE pulled in $134.2 billion in revenues and is probably the world's most valuable company. Immelt said in an interview a few years back that the part of his College education that most prepared him for the job was being president of his fraternity. By all accounts he's a natural leader, known for his geniality, self-confidence, and sharp wit. He's so likeable that Dartmouth gave him an award for character when he was an undergraduate—an honor that he jokes was given to whoever could drink the most beer.

In fact, Immelt's likeable enough (or at least wealthy enough) to take the starch out of that most inflexible of backbones: Jim Wright's. President Wright introduced Immelt with effusive praise and jowl-to-jowl grins. Afterwards, Immelt discussed the reasons he was fond of Dartmouth: the way its culture of conviviality, creativity, and ideas produced practical graduates ideally suited for the world of business. I doubt it was what Wright wanted to hear, but the speech went over well enough that Immelt was invited back to give this year's Commencement address.

I'm pleased, because it's hard to imagine a better representative of the best parts of this place and because it's a welcome change—Dartmouth has tended to promote its least-representative alumni over the past few years. One example comes to the fore: Fred McFeeley Rogers, Dartmouth undergraduate 1946-1948. He's better known as children's-television personality Mister Rogers; he was the commencement speaker in 2002. I don't have problem with Mister Rogers that can be explained rationally, other than that I hate whimsy. But, honestly, who's the better representative of Dartmouth College: the fanciful creator of the Land of Make-Believe or one of the most powerful men in the world?

Some Dartmouth students have already started grousing about Immelt's selection as speaker. Immelt is a corporate businessman. Immelt is elitist. Immelt is a robber-baron. Immelt is an ogre who wants to club you and eat your bones. They're probably the same people who will spend Green Key this weekend holed up indoors being dismal and antisocial.

Green Key is my favorite big weekend at this school. It's a holiday that began as a transparent excuse to import women to the College and has traditionally centered about excess, music, beer, and the ritualized beatings of the first-years. Over the years Green Key has been constantly reimagined and refashioned as administrators have attempted to curb its decadences. It's weathered controversy, riots, and exceedingly inappropriate behavior, and still its temper has remained steady: Do nothing. Hang out. Stop caring. Steal off into the night.

Perhaps Greek Key has faded somewhat, but there are few purer expressions of the students' love for the place. What other College better commands the loyalty of its charges in such a fashion?

Of course, I'd like to see at least one Green Key tradition resurrected: the 'Wetdown,' during which newly-elected student government representatives would dash across the Green while being pelted by the assembled student body with buckets of water and all manner of debris: eggs, condiments, beer cans, sundry vegetables, unopened sacks of potatoes. That, to be sure, would be a fine prospect.

Do Nothing.

Article Tools

Related Articles