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The Dartmouth
May 19, 2024 | Latest Issue
The Dartmouth

Don't Meet Me Halfway

Last week I saw something strange while waiting for my morning omelette at Collis Cafe. After the lady asked the obligatory "egg-white or regular?" the student in front of me answered that he wanted half of each.

Now I've heard of half-marinara, half-alfredo on pasta, and I won't deny that Thai peanut and medium sauce is a delicious stir-fry combination. But there was something odd about the omelette order. Was he only 50 percent worried about his cholesterol intake? Had he stumbled upon the perfect combination of fat and protein for a morning meal? Was an omelette with both the nutritional drawbacks of traditional eggs and the blandness of egg whites somehow actually very tasty? More likely, I saw it as a symptom of a common Dartmouth problem. When confronted with conflict and decision, we equivocate. We are afraid of having to choose.

These compromises are not confined to the omelette line at Collis. We insist on modified majors to combine sometimes disparate areas of interest, and as a whole our campus politics lie squarely in the middle.

But these sorts of halfway agreements are innocent compared to our equivocations in the realm of ideas. Consider a common formula that I've noticed in many of the introductory classes I have taken here: someone will make a point, and then someone else will either agree with their statement or say something like, "Well, I agree with this part of that argument, but" It is as if we are afraid to challenge the status quo with contradictory thoughts.

Tactful compromise is good for U.S. senators. On a college campus, however, the consequence of this is that we close ourselves off from debate. When compromise becomes the norm, we are less open to new and challenging ideas.

Last week I attended a performance of "The Vagina Monologues," driven mostly by a nagging curiosity about the controversial play. Not surprisingly, when I got there I noticed a conspicuous lack of men. If you discount the guys who were cajoled into going by their girlfriends, the ratio was at best 20 to one (men, a tip for next year going to the play is well worth the admiration girls will express for how sensitive and understanding you are). This is reasonable. The play was written for women and many of the themes were ones men could not fully relate to. Still, my hope would be that there is a curiosity, or maybe just a zest for controversy that would have impelled more men to attend. I'm not saying one has to agree with the "Monologues;" I, for one, did not appreciate the lack of positive male characters, and I think it may have actually furthered some of the more harmful male stereotypes. But I appreciated the chance to hear what a certain group of women thought about important issues.

The discussions I had after the play were more disappointing. I found that those who were involved in the play's production got defensive when people brought up faults with the play's message. Likewise, I found that many men resorted to cracking jokes and categorically dismissing the play instead of actually engaging with and considering its ideas. When I tried to engage them in conversation, I fount that these people were simply not used to having their assumptions confronted and argued.

At a place like Dartmouth I think we can do better than hiding behind jokes or taking exaggerated offense. In their idealized form, universities have a very distinct purpose in society: to debate, research and discover the truth. We have all proven our curiosity and intellectual capabilities by virtue of having been accepted here. Why, then, are we so afraid of debate? Why can we not have honest conversations about a play? Why must we compromise on everything from our pasta sauces to our classroom discussion?

Henry David Thoreau wrote, "Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth." I think it is reasonable to assume that we all share a commitment to rationality and truth, even if that means some discomfort for us. If our world view is shot down, we all have the capability to either defend it or find a new one to build up again. Surrounded by people committed, at least in part, to finding the truth in academics, philosophy and life, we should not be afraid to debate uncomfortable ideas.

If anyone disagrees, I am open to discussion.