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