You’re So Vain. But So Am I.

By Daniel F. Linsalata | Thursday, March 1, 2007

A recent study, published by The Institute That Cares About These Kinds of Things at San Diego State University, has concluded that today’s college students are more narcissistic and self-centered than those from previous generations. The study asked respondents to agree or disagree with several hundred statements such as “I’m a special person,” “If I ruled the world, it would be a better place,” and “I’m a pretty sweet dude who hangs out a lot.” In their analysis, the psychologists who conducted the study deem their findings as the logical conclusion of the so-called “self-esteem movement,” the result of two decades of teachers and parents telling children they’re special and lacking the nerve to tell them when they have made a mistake. It is not Generation Me so much as Generation Look-At-Me.

Technology-age sensations like YouTube, Facebook, and MySpace are predicated on this type Montessorian orgy. At Dartmouth, the same phenomenon gives rise to “self-calls,” “face-time,” BuzzFlood, and Neel Shah ’05. More broadly, this perceived rise in vanity causes students to think they (or their actions) are more important than they really happen to be. With a few notable exceptions (Daniel Webster and John Sloan Dickey come to mind), few have made a truly tangible, lasting impact on the destiny or direction of the College. In 2002, Booz Allen Hamilton named Dartmouth one of the world’s Most Enduring Institutions, along with the United States Constitution and the Rockefeller Foundation, among others, for her ability to overcome adversity and resist outside pressures. In other words, try as you may, Dartmouth’s not going anywhere, and so long as she doesn’t lose sight of her mission, will not change drastically either.

In an alumni trustee election that has already been filled with plenty of inflammatory rhetoric, one of the most amusing claims is that Dartmouth is at a “critical juncture” in her history. While I would like to attribute this statement to a single candidate, it seems to be a rather universal chorus. Dartmouth’s renowned institutional endurance, however, renders this claim laughable. While the Booz Allen award primarily referenced the famous Dartmouth College Case as evidence of the College’s ability to overcome obstacles, she has overcome plenty more in the interceding two centuries. Much has been made of the fact that the victor of this trustee election will likely choose the next president of the College—a wholly probable scenario with enormous consequences. But hardly one worth of being knighted a “critical juncture.” Dartmouth has had many good presidents, several excellent, and one or two bad, but has survived and trudged along nonetheless. She has made it through dramatic shifts in character and policy (co-education and the Student Life Initiative, for instance), and yet still remains. To believe that the College has arrived at some inertial tipping point and only ‘we,’ today—apply or define “we” as you will—can save her, not only blows the significance of the present out of proportion to the immensity of the past, but is also remarkably vain. Yet current members of the ‘Dartmouth community,’ particularly students, crave the attention. Everyone wants to be the individual who ‘saves’ the College—be it from some social emergency, from Bird Flu, or from the Second Coming of the Lord—despite the fact that Dartmouth doesn’t need saving. The College may not be perfect, but it can still be excellent; an NBA team doesn’t need to win all 82 games to win a championship.

The challenge, though, lays in defining exactly what makes Dartmouth enduring, exactly how she glides through good times and bad. Dartmouth’s mission statement, changed only inappreciably over several decades, has long been one of the few concrete reference points in the search for this definition. And now, this statement has been overhauled from start to finish [see page #]. So then, is the College in imminent danger of completely realigning its vision and directives, crumbling the foundations which have supported it for so long? Are we actually at that ‘critical juncture?’ In a word, no.

While there is plenty to gripe about and nitpick over in President Wright’s proposed new mission statement (see page 7), it generally constitutes a vast improvement over the previous iteration, if only because it has purged much of the bloated, garbled language which made the former nearly indecipherable. And to Wright’s credit, the verbiage of the proposed draft much better embodies the character of the College; instead of generalities, it is expressed almost entirely in the first-person plural, reflecting the stake that every member of this intimate community holds. The new version maintains a nominal commitment to diversity as an integral component of a Dartmouth education, but eschews language specifying exactly what types of diversity count (presumably because ‘identities’ propagate faster than non-discrimination polices can be updated). The “Core Values” section of the updated mission statement focuses largely upon teaching and education, in all its forms, addressing graduate research and programs in only veiled terms of “scholarly and creative work.”

It is difficult to read the first paragraph addressing Dartmouth’s “Legacy” without cringing at the prominent mention allotted to Dartmouth’s graduate programs. Though the notion of a re-upped commitment to graduate studies remains disconcerting, the mission statement carefully emphasizes that the graduate programs are simply meant to “enrich” the undergraduate focus, rather than detract from it. The way this “enrichment” plays out in reality is open to debate, but the existence and national prominence of the professional schools cannot be denied. The second paragraph highlights the merits and importance of Dartmouth’s locale in northern New England and delineates specific commitments to the arts, athletics, and service.

In drafting the new mission statement, Wright clearly sought to address most of the criticisms that observers typically level at the College and at Wright himself. But again, Wright himself falls into the pit of vanity that plagues so many students. Although Wright reworded the mission statement for clarity without significantly altering the content, it remains clear that he desired to silence all critics in one fell swoop. But nobody ever imagined that Dartmouth herself was on the wrong track, simply those charged with leading her.

Dartmouth has, and will, outlast all of us. Despite the narcissistic preconceptions of students, alumni, and administrators, Dartmouth is too big to force into change. Dartmouth is still not perfect, but never has been and never will be. But for us to assume we can force it to be so is the epitome of vanity.

You’re So Vain. But So Am I.

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