Education: The Ivy League's X Factor

I saw this article by Walter Kirn here. I don't agree with everything it says but it does offer food for thought.

I went to Princeton. There: my résumé. Usually I slip it in more casually. I wait for an opening, a cue, a question. I rarely wait very long, though. As every Ivy League graduate discovers, the greatest benefit of that education is social, not intellectual. I went to Princeton. That statement opens a lot of doors. But should it?

The first time I asked myself that question was in the fall of 1980, a month or so after arriving on a campus that struck me as a version of heaven on earth. The buildings cast elaborate, Gothic shadows that I had never seen in the Midwest, where I had attended public high school and dreamed of someday going east to glory. My fellow classmates wore natty outfits that put my dull provincial threads to shame. They also spoke more impressively than I did, dropping the names of ancient Greek philosophers and contemporary French deconstructionists. What was a deconstructionist, exactly? I wasn't sure. But I was dying to learn.

I learned instead--and in only a few weeks--that Princeton wasn't heavenly at all but a flawed, all-too-human institution whose reputation seemed exaggerated compared with the quality of the education it offered. Because I had transferred there from a smaller school--Macalester College in St. Paul, Minn.--I had a basis for comparison. Although Princeton had far more money and mystique, its reading lists were composed of the same books, and its students were filled with the same questions. But the students carried those books with more aplomb, and they asked their questions with more confidence.

That was the Ivy League's X factor. It bred confidence. I remember taking an exam once next to the heir to a legendary fortune who kept peeking at my test sheet. I knew a few things that he didn't, it turned out. Me, the striving, uncertain country boy who had aced the SATs as though by accident, only to end up surrounded by aristocrats who stole my answers when they felt stumped.

Later, many years after I graduated, as I watched my former classmates climb to the top of enormous corporations, publish prizewinning books and dream up hit TV shows, I felt I was rising with them. I knew deep down, of course, that they, and I, were no better than anyone else, but the world seemed to think we were, and that was thrilling. Even though we learned nothing at Princeton that we couldn't have learned elsewhere, the place gave us a calling card whose impact and power were undeniable. I assume it has opened doors for me, but none of the gatekeepers have said as much.

I went to Princeton. A winning ticket in the social lottery. And although I might not have deserved it, I cashed it anyway. Advancement is partly a game, I learned in college, and while games are not always fair, they're still worth playing. So say the victors, anyway.