Recently, I've been fond of analogies. While my last column was about the parallels between DASH and sex, this week's topic demands more subtlety.
One of Dartmouth's greatest weaknesses is the lack of sustainability. Several columns on this page have addressed the issue of recycling and renewable energy. There has been no conclusive progress, and frat basements continue to dispose of hundreds of pounds of potential recyclables each week. The issue of environmentalism, however, is rarely compared to one of our greatest unsustainable resources here at Dartmouth: relationships.
Perhaps I dwell too much on the politics of romance, but I've decided that this pagehas become so leaden with discussion of the Association of Alumni that any other topic should be welcomed.
Coincidentally, the best archetype of a Dartmouth relationship is the one between alumni and the Board. It just couldn't last, and now alumni don't even say hello to the trustees when they see them in Food Court: "Damn, Haldeman looks good in a white sundress. I can't believe he left me for a bigger Board."
Sustainability in our basements and sustainability of romance are not that different; so many students here toss hookups to the ground like Keystone cans, moving onto the next one with mindless vigor. Remember those compost trash bins near the Homeplate tray station? How quickly did those fizzle out in the frigid uterus of student apathy?
There's a vocal minority against the lack of sustainability, but no one really makes a great effort to change the norm. Sure, there are those couples out there giving it a chance. They tend to play a lot less pong, have meaningful conversations and have kicked what I call the Velociraptor habit -- feeding on the tasty and helpless. But just like the flannel-wearing, Nalgene-sipping, guitar-strumming Dartmouth Outing Club member, these couples are considered amicable but eccentric campus icons.
An easy analogy can be made to demands for a better keg policy. It is a good step forward, but, just like a pong date, it is a diluted excuse for the real deal. People love cans and one night stands because they're both so much easier. Emotional and environmental externalities be damned! Trashing aluminum and late night fun are both easy and effortless.
The simple fact is -- and this is certainly unoriginal -- that Dartmouth students cannot sustain romantic ties with others. Our main obstacles? The D-Plan, summer, supple freshmen and especially alcohol. Oh, and gay marriage, obviously -- ruining the moral fiber of our youth.
Why would we reduce consumption of anything? Why determine to recycle when it's just so easy not to? Why reuse a partner when we can get a fresh one? We just can't resist what we see in the store window, even if we have a perfectly nice puppy in our arms.
Sure, there's certainly respectable rhetoric that says college is the time to experiment ('supermanning that ho, supersoaking said ho,' etc.) and expand our horizons. However, this never seems to apply to trying out something serious. Repeating a hookup is considered a major step, closely followed by dinner dates ("The Death of the Dinner Date," April 16). Throwing a can in a basement's recycling bin is equally uncommon.
What hope do we have for a sustainable campus? If you'll allow me to be liberal, I'd be willing to compare our romantic disrespect for each other with our savage disregard for Mother Earth. Both show a lack of foresight and ignorance of the returns of long-term investment. And we all should know better when it comes to economics.
Have you ever thought about a keeping a blue chip fund in your portfolio? At Dartmouth, most people will just buy a high-risk moneymaker and, so to speak, pull out quickly. The only thing that's proven sustainable is our endemic culture of carelessness.
