In these editorial pages, a debate about what it means to “pretend”—and whether our student government does just that—has garnered much interest from our readers. We feel that this is a particularly pertinent issue to comment on, now more than ever. The recent economic downturn and the cuts in both the University’s endowment and our parents’ pocketbooks has led us to reconsider: To what extent should we take ourselves seriously?

The truth remains that, for many of us, attending a four-year institution was hardly a choice. The liberal arts education that the College of Arts & Sciences provides has become a cornerstone of American democratic intellectual culture.

A liberal arts education requires us to disengage, to a certain extent, with the notion that we are working toward a concrete goal. Undergraduate courses on “Ulysses” or Middle Eastern politics or the physics of the brain teach us how to think critically and analyze the literary, cultural and scientific world that surrounds us. They do not, however, provide direct routes to employment without graduate school. We are left with a goal more abstract and, some would say, more worthwhile: the attainment of intellectual maturity.

With this disengagement, though, comes an unfortunate temptation. Because the Discovery Curriculum—starting from its very title—encourages us to explore and maintain an open mind, we are tempted to treat ourselves as though we are not yet fully formed human beings, lacking clear-cut sets of goals and preferences.

Extracurricular activities can act as a foil to this temptation. Participation in Student Union teaches us the real struggles of policy change in a way that our political science courses cannot. Working for EST teaches us the urgency of medical care in a way that our biology courses do not approach. And writing for this very newspaper teaches us a means of efficient communication that our writing courses can only abstractly define.

Ever since last year’s economic downturn, there have been debates in American university culture about the value of a four-year degree—especially in the liberal arts. We believe that the University’s capacity to turn us into critical thinkers is invaluable. But more importantly, the community that surrounds us during our four years here has the power to turn us into amateur legislators, doctors and journalists, among other things. By interacting and participating in student groups alongside our studies, we engage in a form of vocational education, learning how to communicate and organize. We are legal adults, and we owe it to ourselves to act maturely—to learn commitment in a way that lends substance to our community.

Perhaps legislation about DUC hours is not as important, in a utilitarian sense, as legislation about national health care. Our editorial board definitely does not have as much sway as that of The New York Times. But the tasks of student groups are crucial nonetheless, and it is imperative that we take them seriously.