The Vanity in Veritas

In the story of Narcissus, a beautiful young boy drowns in a river after becoming enraptured with his own reflection. This story would likely be more relatable to Harvard students if one were to replace that physical reflection with Narcissus’s résumé.

Harvard University is inextricably associated with its elite reputation—something in which its students typically take pride. Yet in the attempt to keep up with that impressive image, it’s easy to become excessively concerned with how one’s own credentials—laid out in the form of a résumé—measure up. There are clear dangers to such an obsession, and it’s important to ensure that the endless drive to self-promote does not find students plunging to the bottom of a river.

The density of high achievers at Harvard is a frequent topic of conversation, such discussions only reinforcing the self-consciousness surrounding the University’s image. As students apply to internships or clubs, there is almost a subconscious importance assigned to amassing a checklist of credentials—one that often prioritizes the curriculum vitae over the vita itself.

An obsession over qualifications can lead students to make decisions for the sake of their image, in place of a genuine personal interest. A friend recently told me that instead of taking classes that she found interesting, she was taking classes that would “make her seem more interesting.” Another friend selected a more difficult science Core for fear of what “Dinosaurs” would look like on her academic record. The irony of focusing on final academic GPA is that as students overlook their personal interests, they are likely to become more disenchanted with academics in general and less intellectually curious in the process.

The extent of concentration on résumés becomes most transparent in the field of extracurricular activities. The Harvard student with a coherent five-year plan to get into a top law school, featuring specific courses and activities, is far from a rarity. The obvious danger within this approach, which lies in using our free time as a mere means to a distant end, is to run the risk of forgetting what truly interested us in the first place.

Preparing for life post-college is important, but part of this preparation lies in following genuine passions in order to discover the career and adult life to which we are best suited. Those who allow anxiety or conventions to stifle those interests waste a significant portion of this opportune time, and may set off on a path to an unhappy future. For instance, if you’re ambivalent about economics but suffer through the concentration nonetheless, chances are that you will not enjoy the financial internship or job that your education might grant you.

Of course, résumés are genuinely important down the line, and a rewarding college experience in many cases doesn’t preclude coming away with a good one. But students’ too-common error is to excessively focus on the final product, and unwittingly abandon other crucial aspects of college life. Even within the competitive environment at Harvard, it’s essential that activities and classes be treated as rare opportunities for intellectual and personal growth. If we do otherwise, we may not drown with Narcissus, but we will end up facing the world with a great résumé, but without any discernible passion.


Olivia M. Goldhill ’11, a Crimson editorial comper, lives in Pforzheimer House.