Let me begin by saying-or admitting, if you prefer-that I was not present at the infamous bench-burning incident on West Campus. Neither did I witness the events that preceded it.
While others watched the Duke-UNC game, I discussed Spinoza with another philosopher. Spinoza, himself a great critic of the human passions, would have been proud. I did follow with some interest, however, the ensuing debate, some of it in the form of articles and letters to The Chronicle, concerning the bench-burning incident and the reactions to it on the part of administrators and students. It is this incident, and the reactions to it, that I want to discuss.
The build-up to the Duke-UNC match was quite impressive, by any standard. On the Saturday before the game, I took a stroll over to Cameron, to have a look at the tents. It was actually quite a refreshing sight to see so many students simply "hanging out" together, as Americans say.
I had come over on the bus, surrounded by students carrying sleeping-bags and extra clothes and paperbacks, all talking excitedly to each other. On the bus I had begun to think that perhaps there was something to this mass hysteria after all. I had said to myself that, if I were an undergraduate, more than likely I would now have a sleeping-bag, some Irish tea-bags and a copy of "On The Road," and would be looking forward to a night amongst the tents.
Why? Well, because, just like these kids, I would be excited at the prospect of doing something vaguely wild and independent like camping out in a large group within the University and creating my own little Woodstock. I would be excited at the prospect of escaping the daily tedium of classroom, cafeteria and dorm.
To be honest, I was rather surprised that the University had permitted this conglomeration of tents, this mini-Woodstock (well, Woodstock with baseball caps), to take place. The University is normally excessively paternalistic in its treatment of students. Did they really think that this was all just part of the "Duke experience"? Was this something that they would want to show to parents on a tour of Duke? If so, they were more open-minded than I gave them credit for.
Even then, however, on this weekend before the game, the thought occurred to me: Do they really think that they can control this kind of fervor? Is this fervor something that they think can be easily dispersed, once the game is over? Don't they know that there is a world of difference between this kind of Dionysian camp-out, and, say, greater access to the World-Wide Web?
Judging by the incident that followed, the obvious answer is that the University miscalculated its ability to control students' passions. If you let students camp out like this, if you allow fervor to build up like this, you can hardly be surprised if they go quite mad after a victory and start to burn benches. After all, what is the burning of a bench, except a big camp fire? And isn't that exactly what you allowed them to do for days beforehand?
This is not to condone their actions, of course. In Europe, we have had our share of post-match disturbances. Football hooliganism, it is called. I would hate to see anything like that happen over here.
So far, the reactions to this incident have only scratched at the surface of the problem. I have heard people say that there should be controlled bonfires, and such like. This idea strikes me as even more myopic than the current policy. Tell a couple of thousand jubilant students, late on a Wednesday night, that, well, they can have their bonfire here, but that it can only be this big, and that it must be out by this time? I can see that policy working wonderfully.
Until such time as the University takes stock of its policy of allowing students to camp out before matches, and, in general, of allowing University-wide hysteria to build up like this, it will continue to have a problem with post-match disturbances such as the kind witnessed last month. My advice to them all is simple: Read some more Spinoza.
James Mahon is a second-year graduate student in philosophy.
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