Each Wednesday the bioscience building hosts its own celebration honoring San Fermin. Instead of running to a bull-fighting ring, the Birkenstock stampede heads for the library anticipating the latest editions of Nature, Science, Folia Primatologica and the Canadian Journal of Forestry.
These bio-geeks sport pocket-Ts, tweed jackets with elbow patches and corduroys rather than the traditional Pamplona garb. The injuries consist mainly of paper cuts and the occasional hurt feelings for not beating an undergraduate to the page turner "Nihon Gakushiin" or in English "Proceedings of the Japan Academy: Series B, Physical and Biological Sciences." Xenophobes prefer to peruse the "Journal of the American Society for Horticultural Science." The stampede reveals a passionate pursuit of knowledge for knowledge's sake not often displayed at Duke or elsewhere.
We concentrate so heavily on the supposedly practical and applied that we often ignore the interesting and sometimes seemingly pointless. This is a bummer, since it undervalues the innate curiosity within humans and emphasizes the boredom of economics, Goldman Sachs and business consulting (potential donors, please do not take offense). Humanity constantly strives to understand more about itself and the surrounding world to quench its quizzical drive. Duke presents wonderful prospects for such pursuits; unfortunately, narrowly focused students concentrating on their personal futures often miss these opportunities. These same students, coincidentally, do not appear on "Jeopardy."
We are, as writings within "Human Evolution" espouse, essentially hunters and gatherers in all practices. Though we no longer walk across African plains in search of rotting carcasses or delicious foliage we still collect. We pursue to varying degrees materials, experiences and knowledge. Some look only to increase their holdings, while ignoring the value of the latter two. Still others attempt to taste life's flesh through new activities--thrill seekers and ex-patriot wanderers exemplify the experience collectors. Scholars, using intellectual currency, represent the ultimate form of knowledge seekers.
These categories are not rigid boundaries, within which every person fits. Rather, we find ourselves collecting materials, experiences and knowledge to varying degrees. The amount to which people concentrate their life's pursuits greatly affect other people's interest in them. A direct correlation exists between personal blandness and people who spend their days accumulating materials rather than experience and knowledge. According to this relationship, Americans are quite boring. We have so much stuff that the self-storage industry earns more money than the film industry. This same accumulation trend coincides with a rise in personal depression incidences.
Thankfully, here at Duke there exists a high per capita rate of knowledge and experience gatherers. Opportunities to study abroad allow both knowledge and experience acquisition that can potentially make students more interesting not only to their peers but to themselves. Independent studies let eager young scholars become experts in random yet extremely interesting topics. However, undergraduates do not take full advantage of their situation, and it shines through the current intellectual atmosphere. Rather than pursuing a passion and relishing every moment of study, many undergrads dismally trudge through classes cultivating little knowledge and few unique experiences.
Curriculum 2000 attempts to encourage broad based scholarship, wherein students take classes not related to their majors and derail any single-minded track. C2K, however, can do only so much with its dated name--the authors should have thought of something catchier like "Best Damned Curriculum Ever" or "Wicked Awesome Learning at Duke." Even with a better title, the onus rests upon students to find interesting fields of study and recognize the value of pure knowledge.
This knowledge enhances the individual spirit like strawberries in a layered cake. You don't necessarily need them to enjoy the cake, the fruit just adds extra flavor (another quality Chronicle analogy).
Pragmatists often ignore this sort of additive as they prefer to pursue what "meaningful work." Historically, esoteric research validates its pursuit of knowledge for knowledge's sake time and again. If you don't believe me, look for some examples, I don't want to strip away your hunting and gathering instincts. Nevertheless, I'll give you one example: Marie Curie.
The emphasis on greater profits that riddles American society overshadows the need for knowledge that researchers like Marie Curie held. Without a clear purpose other than knowing more about radiation, Mme. Curie helped revolutionize the world, yet she did not receive stock options. Still, she's a bit more famous and was a bit more interesting than Stan O'Neal. You know, Stan O'Neal, everyone's favorite. He's Merryl Lynch's CEO and has a few more things than Mme. Curie. It's unfortunate that Duke students stereotypically aspire to O'Neal's position rather than Curie's. I don't know Mr. O'Neal personally, I'm sure we'd be friends if we met, so I'll just draw a grave generalization with his help. Most Americans wouldn't mind being him, specifically for his salary to buy more stuff.
The apparent need to emulate O'Neal creates a near intellectual wasteland where very little grows. Voltaire once wrote that we should plant gardens, in the sense that we can cultivate the earth's riches and lead fruitful lives. He was French, so I'll disagree. We should plant forests to cultivate knowledge and experience rather than the materials we currently with which we currently surround ourselves. The Wednesday stampede is a great time to start planting.
Kevin Ogorzalek is a Trinity senior. His column appears every other Tuesday.
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