W
ith the arrival of the
cold of winter, let
us warm ourselves
around the raging dumpster fire
that
is
American
politics. This holiday
season will be the
final one of the Obama
administration,
and
with that departure,
Americans
may
be
asked to abandon the
concept
of
“facts.”
Yes, the millions of
Caucasian
patriots
who heroically elected
international
steak
salesman/host of “The
Celebrity
Apprentice,”
Donald
Trump, have actually determined
that “facts” do not matter. And in
my opinion, this issue indicates
the importance of two things:
preserving learning and striving
for intellect.
If this election has offered
any tangible evidence of the
current status of the collective
American intellect, it is that the
necessity for factual evidence or
truth behind outlandish claims
and statements is no longer
necessary. No, Americans need
only to “feel” like something is
true. Americans only need to
“feel” like President Obama is
a secret Muslim, or “feel” like
3 million illegal aliens voted
in
California
this
election,
or “feel” like crime, poverty
and unemployment are all on
the rise. And in regard to the
concrete evidence produced by
credible news organizations and
non-partisan research centers,
well, in the of words of Newt
Gingrich, “liberals have a whole
set of statistics that theoretically
may be right, but it’s not where
human beings are.”
Congratulations, for we are
now entering a new era where
misinformed
and
uneducated
opinions are far more valid
than fact because that’s just how
Americans feel, damn it! In tandem
with our departure from the real
world, we have also elevated fake
news
and
Facebook
clickbait
stories
into
national
political
discourse. The ridiculous posts we
all saw about our Kenyan, Muslim
comrade, Obama, waging war on
Christianity were simply chalked
up as that one racist
uncle of ours having
a slow Tuesday night.
Yet now, individuals
like noted conspiracy
theorist Alex Jones
and
Tomi
Lahren,
future
Fox
News
morning
co-host,
have been elevated, in
public regard, to the
uppermost levels of
contemporary political
journalism
such
as
NBC’s Chuck Todd or CNN’s Jake
Tapper. Instead of producing
unbiased,
factually
accurate,
hard-hitting
journalism,
they
investigate whether juice boxes
have chemicals that are turning
children gay and how Black-on-
Black crime is the real issue Black
Lives Matter should be addressing.
We enter our new era led by our
“blue-collar,” billionaire president-
elect, who, from within his golden
penthouse atop a skyscraper in
Manhattan,
will
patriotically
drag all of America into a political
atmosphere so laughable it feels
like an episode of “South Park.”
Flanked on his right will be the
Republicans that placed party over
nation and went from condemning
him as future sexual-assaulter-in-
chief, to obeying him like pathetic
dogs (Now, sit, Reince. Roll over,
Mitt, roll over.) And on Trump’s
left, or shall I say “alt-right,” will be
the real ambitious members of the
administration: men such as chief
strategist Steve Bannon, National
Security Adviser Mike Flynn and
Attorney General Jeff Sessions.
Men who are all too giddy over the
fact that so far their boss’s Twitter
tantrums distract the national
spotlight from their deplorable
racist and xenophobic pasts.
With the approach of this
fact-free
administration
and
future,
economists,
historians
and political scientists will more
than likely analyze the multiple
factors that contributed to how
we have arrived here. And one of
those key factors will be related
to education and learning, and
more importantly, how we treat
the drive for higher intelligence
within this country. For in order
for our fact-free and intellect-
absent world to develop, we must
have forgotten how remarkably
incredible real learning can be.
A recent TED Talk given by
noted author and nerd archetype,
John Green, compared learning
to cartography. He argued that
learning is not a straight line or
organized checklist — instead,
it’s a messy, uneven, spotty
and sporadic experience. True
learning
requires
individuals
to somehow discover a passion
unbeknown to them that drives
them to stumble upon books,
magazines or videos in order to
gratify the mental hunger that
overtakes them. Whether it be
astrophysics or ancient Roman
history, the uneven conquest of
the unknown is strongly similar
to the disorganized methods
of early cartography, in which
rough sketches of coastlines and
measurements of land culminated
in fuzzy maps attempting to chart
a seemingly endless world.
And as students, we almost
haphazardly
stumble
around
learning, not only within the
classroom, but through other
acts as well. We piece together
information, adding slices and
fragments of data to an ever-
growing map that slowly, over the
progression of years, comes into
focus. It grants us an ability to look
out at on a massive horizon and
over time, more accurately and
precisely describe what we see
in front of us. Every book, article,
Khan Academy video or TED Talk
clarifies and defines the rough
draft of intellect within our minds.
And eventually that messy map
becomes something remarkably
beautiful. It becomes full of factual
evidence and known “knowns.”
I
n the wake of the 2016
election,
the
Electoral
College has come under fire
by those on the left. In what was
certainly a surprising election, the
Democratic Party and
many of those on the
left have taken clear
steps to undermine
the
political
institution that is the
Electoral College.
Many,
including
myself,
argue
that
Hillary Clinton lost
on Nov. 8 in large part
due to the fact that
the electorate was
looking for an outsider. Sick of the
political correctness — from giving
every child a trophy to limiting
when it’s OK to say “Merry
Christmas” — many Americans
were looking for a different type
of leader, not afraid to express his
or her true opinions. Whether you
agree with President-elect Donald
Trump on his policies or not, it’s
clear that he’s different than any
political leader we’ve ever had.
This has made many who disagree
with Trump upset, so much so that
they’ve actually been calling
for the abolishment of the
Electoral College.
I get that Clinton supporters
are upset that they lost. But while
a popular vote system would’ve
ended with a President Clinton,
neither
candidate
received
a
majority of the popular vote —
neither candidate could get over
half of the population to support
them because not everyone votes.
These cries simply demonstrate
the left’s mindset when it comes
to losing: Everyone deserves a
trophy and nobody (unless your
name is Trump) deserves to lose.
When they finally did lose, they
ultimately chose to act immaturely,
cry foul and fight for a complete
change in the rules of the game.
The left, and those fighting for
a popular vote system, constantly
argue that all experiences matter
and that diversity is a strong aspect
of American society. I agree. Yet
they fail to recognize that the
Electoral College supports diverse
experiences. This type of system
allows for people in states with
smaller populations like Wyoming
or North Dakota to have the
same impact as those who live in
New York or California. While I
obviously recognize that people
in New York, for example, all have
different
experiences,
people
in farming states are
probably going to care
about different issues
than those who live
in major cities. The
separation
between
the urban and rural
populaces, the different
priorities they have and
the different lifestyles
they live is good for
this country.
What
these
proponents
fail
to
recognize,
furthermore,
is
that
if
we
transitioned to a system where the
president was elected by popular
vote,
presidential
campaigns
would be won and lost in major
cities. Republicans and candidates
would need to campaign solely
in major urban centers, in effect
ignoring the rest of the population.
Clinton won the popular vote by
about 2.5 million votes. If we had
a popular vote system, she would
be president. But she would’ve
been able to do it by ignoring the
factory workers of Ohio, the union
workers of Detroit and the Reagan
Democrats
in
Pennsylvania.
Hillary Clinton would’ve been able
to win by ignoring the independent
voters this country prides itself on
and by focusing on turnout in a
select few metropolitan cities. Not
to say that voters in large cities
are less important, but a popular
vote system would take away the
voices and power of those across
the country — the Electoral
College, on the contrary, preserves
everyone’s voice.
What the Electoral College
protects, and what popular vote
advocates don’t realize, is the
voice of the minority. No matter
the election cycle, our national
campaigns are always competitive.
There is always a chance of either
party winning. In my mind, this is
a good thing.
Furthermore, I argue that at
certain times in history, more
control by one party is good, while
at other times in history it’s good
to have competition and minority
opinions. It’s not good for the
country if one party completely
dominates politics for long terms
in history. The American people
recognize this, and that’s why it’s
common for the opposing party
to win following an eight-year
president. Tyranny of the majority
is never good; our founders
recognized this and implemented
the Electoral College. No matter
which side of the political aisle you
fall on, a system that protects and
equally weighs all voices is good
for the United States.
I’ll
admit
Republicans
have gotten lucky with this
system in both 2000 and in
2016, and Democrats have felt
understandably cheated out of
victory. Yet this is how our system
is structured. I believe if we look
past our own biases, we can see
that this system produces equality
of impact across the country. We
truly have diversity of opinions
and experiences by forcing our
candidates to pay attention to
every state, each filled with people
of unique backgrounds. When
Republicans have lost, I don’t recall
the right calling for a complete
change of our political institutions,
I don’t remember intolerance. I
remember a self-reflection and
improvement of the party, which
ultimately led to this year’s strong
victory up and down the ballot.
As college students, we have the
opportunity and responsibility to
respect the political institution
of the Electoral College. Simply
advocating for its end due to the
fact that it has historically favored
one party and the opinion that it
seems archaic is simply whining.
This country was never intended
to be a pure democracy — it was
meant to be a republic in hopes
of protecting the will of both the
majority and minority. Going back,
looking at the reasons our founders
advocated for an Electoral College
and understanding how it has
shaped our nation in its protection
of all backgrounds and experiences
should yield a favorable viewpoint
of a critical political institution
of our nation. Clinton won the
popular vote, but it doesn’t matter
at all. Trump recognized the rules,
and won by playing the game as it
was meant to be played.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Recognizing growth in learning
LAURA SCHINAGLE
Managing Editor
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
SHOHAM GEVA
Editor in Chief
CLAIRE BRYAN
and REGAN DETWILER
Editorial Page Editors
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
Carolyn Ayaub
Claire Bryan
Regan Detwiler
Brett Graham
Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan
Ben Keller
Minsoo Kim
Payton Luokkala
Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy
Jason Rowland
Ali Safawi
Kevin Sweitzer
Rebecca Tarnopol
Ashley Tjhung
Stephanie Trierweiler
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
I
t’s been a long time coming,
but I think I’m ready to say
this: I’m almost officially
a big boy. Come May, I’ll have
graduated
from
the
University
of
Michigan and be on to
my next big adventure.
In many ways, this is a
cause for celebration:
I’ll get to subject a
whole new group of
“friends” (or, ideally
if I am accepted into a
teach abroad program,
an
entire
country)
to
my
antics!
My
professors won’t have
to deal with that annoying kid
in the front of the class always
raising his hand like a (insert
witty comparison). But also, I
feel a sense of sadness.
My time at this institution will
soon be over and my learning
will slow. Obviously, everyone
is a lifelong learner, but without
that community surrounding
me, I fear it won’t feel the same.
My sister is applying to college
right now and I’m excited to
see her embark on her own
journey through four years of
moral debasement. Watching
her weigh the pros and cons
of different colleges has made
me wonder: What did I miss by
going to school here?
I’ve spent much of my time
looking for a community of
engaged students on campus
— people who care not only
about the issues of our day,
but also think deeply about
literary theory and the value of
art. My freshman year, I joined
both the Residential College
and the Honors Program in
pursuit of like-minded people.
Orientation boded well for
me: Honors had us each read
“Whistling Vivaldi,” a brilliant
dissection of the psychological
effects of racism, while the RC
gave me a collection of poems
by esteemed poet Pablo Neruda.
However, when I arrived on
campus freshman year, I was
quickly disheartened.
Rather
than
using
these
books as part of an ongoing
yearlong
conversation,
the
two communities held poorly
mediated,
all-too-brief
conversations about the two
works.
Then,
vamoose,
we
were set free to the wind. This
brings me to my first major
problem with this University:
Students cover so little of the
same intellectual ground. I
accept that this is part of the
price of attending a massive
public university, but I still wish
there was more. One of my close
friends has often described
the University as 20 schools
with one football
team.
This
has
rung
increasingly
true throughout my
academic career.
My junior year,
I joined the Ford
School
of
Public
Policy
(and
was
subsequently
dragged out of the
RC
kicking
and
screaming). We had
two core courses,
one on policy-making and one
on economics, which my entire
cohort was mandated to take.
I’ve never been more grateful
for required classes. I had the
opportunity to understand a
wide variety of opinions and
considerations about important
public policy problems. Like the
University as a whole, there is a
distinct lack of a conservative
presence, but overall I found
the
classes
tremendously
helpful
to
developing
both
my own thinking about these
issues and an understanding
of how others came to their
own conclusions. I’m not best
friends with everyone in Ford,
but I can hold a conversation
with anyone there thanks to
these classes. If I hadn’t been
accepted
to
the
program,
I
would’ve
floundered
in
anonymity in our University’s
massive Political Science or
English departments.
This isn’t to admonish either
of the departments — some of
the most important growth
I’ve had occurred in courses
offered by those departments.
I’ve spent a lot of time these
past few months thinking about
how to develop a personal
ethos, one of compassion, one
of morality, one of progress.
I’ve come to the conclusion that
these things aren’t really honed
at this University at large.
However, I’ve taken a handful
of courses which have helped
me develop this ethos. In my
Art of the Essay course with
the wonderful John Rubadeau,
we’ve spent the past semester
writing
essays
about
our
personal hardships.
The topics have run the
gamut from divorced parents to
career-ending sports injuries
to
false
rape
accusations.
During our time together, I’m
often reminded of American
poet
Henry
Wadsworth
Longfellow’s quote, “If we
could read the secret history
of our enemies, we should find
in each man’s life sorrow and
suffering enough to disarm all
hostility.” I’ve understood how
painful these experiences are in
the abstract, but hearing these
stories in full and attaching a
face to the story has truly made
me a more empathetic person. I
wish other students could get a
similar experience.
Another key skill I’ve reflected
upon is how to translate abstract
concepts from the classroom to
my personal life. For the past
year, I’ve studied under Yazier
Henry, a professor in the Ford
School who specializes in the
“political economy of memory,
trauma,
identity,
sustainable
peace and Truth Commissions”
alongside
“how
structural
and
administrative
violence
comes
to
be
normalized.”
Taking courses under him has
given me the tools to think
about essential questions on
what my obligations are to
disenfranchised people in the
United States and across the
world and about how to fix
institutions which have so often
failed those people.
However, I’ve also learned
about how to take the lessons
learned and apply them to my
everyday life. It’s inevitable
that we will all be harmed and
harm others. Thinking about
how I can mitigate that harm,
prevent it in the future and heal
when I am subjected to it has all
made me a better person. I’m
not a perfect person and I still
have a long way to go but those
classes have been an important
stepping stone for me.
No doubt, there have been
wonderful parts of my time at
the University. I’ve taken classes
with
world-class
professors,
made
lifelong
friends
and
accidentally discovered I want
to be a writer. But I often feel that
my growth at this University has
been institutionally neglected.
At Harvard, there’s a seminar
called “Reflecting on Your Life,”
which teaches students how to
reflect on personal conflicts in
their lives and how to get the
most out of both their college
experience and time afterward.
To my knowledge, there’s no
such class here. That absence
speaks volumes about what this
University focuses on.
Max Rysztak can be reached at
mrysztak@umich.edu.
We need the Electoral College
MAX RYSZTAK | COLUMN
MAX
RYSZTAK
ROLAND DAVIDSON | COLUMN
Intelligence makes a good citizenry
MICHAEL MORDARSKI | COLUMN
Michael Mordarski can be reached
at mmordars@umich.edu.
MICHAEL
MORDARKSI
Roland Davidson can be reached at
mhenryda@umich.edu.
ROLAND
DAVIDSON
Read more online at
michigandaily.com