Last spring, I sat at a circular table at Foco Late Night alongside around 15 of my peers in the Class of 2028. There, we watched two of our friends, one Christian and one atheist, debate a topic deeper than what most of our fellow students at the dining hall were discussing that evening: the existence of God.
I grew up in the Orthodox Christian faith, surrounded by individuals who strongly believed in the existence of God. Yet, I had never witnessed such a direct clash over a question I believed to be so incredibly fundamental and meaningful, shaping the way we live our lives and, for many, our understanding of fate after death. During the debate, we had an unofficial moderator pose questions to the two participants. Then, spectators could ask questions to the people debating. I was instantly struck by the level of engagement among the students at the table. Almost everyone asked at least one question. People were present because they genuinely wanted to hear about the topic at hand — not for a class meeting, assignment or other academic obligation.
While informal moderated discussions at this scale are an anomaly on Dartmouth’s campus, the sentiment behind the spectators engaging in religious discussion certainly was not. Religion at Dartmouth is a bell curve: There is a small minority of students who are highly religious, a small minority who are staunchly opposed to the idea of any supreme being and a vast majority who exist somewhere in the middle — inherently curious about religion but not acting on it. Through the creation of the William Jewett Tucker Center for Spiritual Life, Dartmouth recognizes the importance of this kind of engagement with our own faiths and convictions about the world that so many Dartmouth students deeply yearn for yet have failed to act on.
This trend is borne out in the data. According to a 2023 survey administered to a sample of 500 Dartmouth undergraduates, the majority of students described themselves as “fairly interested” in developing their religious faith or spirituality. A 2011 survey of 449 Dartmouth undergraduates found that 68% of Dartmouth students felt a connection with a higher power like God at some point in their lives, and almost 74% had a “spiritual” experience. As indicated by the bell curve hypothesis, just 14% said one religion is true and 11% were atheists. Furthermore, students want to take action: About a third of students wished they attended religious services more than they currently do, and 45% said the same about prayer. The curiosity is there; they simply lack a catalyst to push them to the next step.
These trends are reflected in data about the nation as a whole. A study from Pew Research Center indicates that 90% of Americans believe in a higher power. The bell curve exists across the general population too — among those who are religiously unaffiliated, 72% believe in a higher power of some kind but haven’t taken the extra step of sorting out their beliefs to embark on their personal spiritual journey.
The 2011 study reinforces this middle ground, indicating that 62% of students rated “pursuing meaning and purpose in life” as essential to their college education — higher than even career preparation, financial security and responsible citizenship, even at a school like Dartmouth, where it feels as if talk of investment banking and consulting is inescapable.
Absence of religion has clear impacts on wellbeing. That same 2011 study separated students across the three categories of religious, spiritual and non-religious and revealed a striking wellbeing gap. Eighty-six percent of religious students found meaning during times of hardship, compared to only 60% of students overall. Further, 85% of religious students felt more at peace and centered compared to 72% overall. These differences are substantial. By offering us a moral framework by which to live our lives, religion allows us to more deeply contemplate our everyday actions and better understand the broader implications of how we treat ourselves and others.
If you don’t consider yourself religious, you may already feel this gap. It may feel like something is missing — a hole that you can’t quite decipher, a puzzle that you can’t quite fit the last piece into. You may think you are doing everything correctly in your life yet still yearn for something more.
In my view, as humans, it is difficult to find true fulfillment absent a spiritual life. If you look for it in your career, as many Dartmouth students do, fulfillment may never come, because there will always be another rung of the ladder to climb: another promotion, a coworker more intelligent than you or assignment you could have done 1% better on. Comparing intelligence is a nearly impossible feat; after all, what good is a high MCAT or LSAT score if it is not matched with a profound sense of emotional intelligence, the ability to identify and manage one’s own emotions, which greatly influences one’s ability to successfully interact with others. By encouraging deeper connections with why one is on this Earth, exploration of religion encourages Dartmouth students to contemplate meaningful questions and act with real intention in their lives, as opposed to haphazardly following social norms to direct what they should do.
The next time your classmate mentions they’re heading to a Friday night church service, ask if you can come. Ask your roommate how they found their religion and what it means to them and the way they live their life. You never know the people you will meet, the doors that will open, or the ways that spiritual exploration will alter the trajectory of your life.
I doubt that the debate I witnessed last spring changed anyone’s minds. After all, it is always hard to change people’s predispositions, even in a controlled environment full of consistent question-asking. Yet, the discussion remains deeply meaningful — it was an open demonstration of the curiosity of Dartmouth students and the relentless pursuit of meaning and value. I encourage you to start these discussions; ask the hard questions. It is through this process of asking that faith emerges.
