W

e’re graduating into 
a world that is more 
fractious than ever 

before. This statement, 
which 
has 
been 

repeated for years, has 
moved 
from 
insight 

to truism to enduring 
political reality. We can 
put our heads in the 
sand, drown out the 
rest of the world with 
Colbert clips and retreat 
into our enclaves. Or we 
can do something about 
it. Personally, the last 
six years of the Obama 
administration lulled me into a 
sense of complacency. We lived 
under a divided government with 
incremental social victories on the 
national level by the left, like the 
expansion of LGBTQ rights, and 
by the right on the local level, like 
restrictions on abortion access.

I often recall the quote by Martin 

Luther King Jr.: “ the arc of the moral 
universe is long but it bends toward 
justice.” There’s inevitability to it. 
But after watching the liberal (small 
“l” Lockean liberal, not big “L” 
Democrat liberal) world order tear 
at the seams, I’ve begun to realize 
that our future is not inevitable. 
We must actively work to craft the 
world in which we want to live.

This might sound obvious. I’m 

sure that the Facebook commenters 
will tear me a new one for sharing 
such an obvious failing. But I would 
seriously ask that everyone try 
to find a way they can make the 
world a better place. Even if you’re 
working outside policy as a 9 to 5 
(more realistically 9 to 9) business 
consultant, find time to volunteer at 
a food bank or tutor children on the 
weekends. It’s too easy to become 
complacent. Seriously reflecting 
and finding the time to help make 
the world a better place is part of our 
duty to the American people.

Right now, the United States 

is going through a period of deep 
unrest, but I think we have an 
opportunity. 
Politics 
is 
often 

defined as the art of the possible. 
But what is possible seems to 
have shrunk. Gone are the New 
Deals, the Great Societies, even 
the Contracts with America. I 
don’t mean to sound like a Sanders 
acolyte — I’m not 
 — but I really do 

believe this is the time we need to 
relitigate American truths. Why 
can’t the United States have a 
welfare state like the Netherlands? 
Why can’t we have a universal 
basic income, a policy that Nixon 
privately supported?

Ross Douthat, The New York 

Times’ token Republican, has spent 
the past couple months writing 
about policies that he believes 
would be good for society but 
politically impossible. I implore 
each of my readers to think about 

why their ideal world is “politically 
impossible.” Social security seemed 
impossible 100 years ago, and now 

it’s a cornerstone of 
our political reality. 
With dedication, we 
can expand the scope 
of the possible.

Beyond legislative 

goals, we need to 
reflect on how to create 
a truly inclusive civic 
society. The sexual 
revolution 
liberated 

millions of women. 
But now evangelical 
Christians are feeling 

increasingly endangered by a more 
sexual public sphere. Perhaps part 
of this may be due to misogyny, but 
part of it comes from a very real place 
of having their values threatened. 
How do we create a country that 
caters to both groups? I don’t have 
the answer, but I think there’s room 
in the middle for both groups to find 
common ground. Both a number of 
feminist and religious conservatives 
have criticized the prevalence of 
pornography in our society, perhaps 
for different reasons, but there’s 
room for collaboration that could 
help build a more inclusive society.

But there are basic values we 

can’t compromise; they are too 
essential for our democracy. We 
must maintain a respect for open 
participation. 
Our 
democracy 

is better when more people 
vote. However, this is at risk. 
Voting identification laws have 
consistently stifled the voices 
of 
the 
most 
marginalized 

among 
us. 
Furthermore, 

gerrymandering 
has 
been 

used 
by 
Republicans 
and 

Democrats to make elections 
more 
difficult 
to 
contest. 

Both tactics may be politically 
expedient but they whittle our 
democracy’s foundation.

We 
also 
must 
have 

compassion for the oppressed. 
Listen with an open heart and 
an open mind when a person 
in pain tells you about their 
struggles. 
This 
extends 
to 

people we wouldn’t traditionally 
view 
as 
marginalized. 
It’s 

truly a privilege to attend the 
University of Michigan, and 
the critical thinking skills that 
we’ve honed have been a blessing. 
With this degree, we’re part of 
the intellectual elites. With that 
honor comes an obligation. Many 
don’t have the luxury to learn 
in the environment we have. 
We need to learn how to talk to 
those people. That means having 
uncomfortable 
conversations 

with the archetypical racist 
uncle or your teenage brother 
when he makes offhand sexist 
comments. That means standing 
up for others even when it’s 
difficult for you.

Throughout Barack Obama’s 

presidency, 
I 
was 
relatively 

uncritical of his mass surveillance 
policies because I trusted him. Now 
that President Donald Trump has 
control over the National Security 
Agency, I’ve become increasingly 
concerned about what effects 
mass data collection will have on 
undocumented immigrants and 
Muslims. In 1967, Noam Chomsky 
warned about the danger of left-
wing intellectuals being co-opted 
by the Johnson administration’s 
imperialist 
policies. 
We 
have 

to remain critical of our own 
government, even when candidates 
we support hold the reins of power.

Lastly, there are dark fringes that 

have moved increasingly center-
stage this past year. These are not 
people with whom we negotiate. 
We can’t debase ourselves by 
acting as though the ideologies 
that undergird the alt-right are as 
legitimate as any other. This is not 
a missive against the Republican 
Party. Since I’ve come to attend 
the Ford School of Public Policy, 
I’ve come to respect a number 
of 
staunch 
Republicans 
and 

understand that we have common 
goals. For example, a number of 
mainstream conservatives, such as 
Marco Rubio and Newt Gingrich, 
have recognized the reality of 
racist policing. Let’s keep our eyes 
and ears open for unexpected allies 
outside of our own camp and build 
new coalitions to achieve our goals.

However, we must remain 

vigilant. While some populist 
Democrats share Chief Strategist 
Steve Bannon’s desire for a massive 
infrastructure bill, working with 
him further cements Bannon’s 
power and political legitimacy. But 
we need to distinguish between the 
Steve Bannons and the Ben Sasses 
of the world., between people who 
are willing to stand up against the 
bigotry in their own ranks and 
those who will abuse our political 
system for their nefarious ends.

With an enduring commitment 

to our most important values and 
constant questioning of the world 
around us, we can really make the 
world a better place. That’s really 
the crux of public policy. When 
you strip away all the trappings, 
that’s why we all chose to study 
our discipline. Borrowing from 
Herman Cain, borrowing from 
Pokemon, I would like to leave 
everyone with these words of 
wisdom: “Life can be a challenge. 
Life can seem impossible. It’s 
never easy when there’s so much 
on the line. But you and I can 
make a difference. There’s a 
mission just for you and me … Just 
look inside and you will find just 
what you can do.”

I

f you told me a year 
ago that in a year I’d 
be writing about how 

I love chemistry, I probably 
would have laughed in your 
face. Around that time, I was 
miserably glued to Problem 
Roulette, an online tool filled 
with thousands of multiple-
choice questions from past 
exams in Chemistry 130, the 
University 
of 
Michigan’s 

primary introductory general 
chemistry course. I had done 
well enough on the course’s 
midterm exams by reviewing 
past homework and doing 
plenty of textbook problems. 
But the finale of my studying 
always required a trip to the 
deep pits of Problem Roulette, 
a tool that would test my 
understanding of the material 
while also giving me a flavor 
of what I would find in 30 
multiple-choice 
questions 

come exam day. 

A 
year 
later, 
I’m 
not 

approaching 
my 
second-

semester organic chemistry 
final with the same dread 
I felt a year ago. A lot has 
changed 
since 
then: 
I’ve 

fully settled into the rhythm 
of 
college 
studying, 
I’ve 

had a number of inspiring 
chemistry 
professors 
and 

graduate student instructors 
and I’ve developed a good 
support system among my 
peers. But what has most 
changed in my mind is how 
I’ve been asked to approach 
exams in organic chemistry.

Instead 
of 
bubbling 
in 

letters on a Scantron, organic 
chemistry 
exams 
feature 

questions 
that 
require 

students to draw structures 
and mechanistic arrows to 
model 
how 
the 
concepts 

and 
reactions 
occur 
and 

work together. As such, my 
studying has focused less on 
integrating multiple aspects 
of a problem into an A, B, C, D 
or E answer and has focused 
more on making sure I can 
explain and draw out concepts 
in a coursepack of old exams. 
The difference in my attitude 
toward the two classes could 
not be starker: Instead of 
worrying whether all my work 
on a multiple-choice problem 
boils down to a single correct 
or 
incorrect 
answer, 
I’m 

studying by drawing reactions 
to diagnose exactly what I 
know and don’t know.

Multiple-choice 
exams 

have always received wrath 
from the likes of standardized 
test opponents and those who 
claim that requiring students 
to bubble in responses on 
a 
separate 
Scantron 
form 

makes it too easy to make 
a mistake. I’m not so sure I 
oppose them outright, but I 
do take issue with how they’re 
used in introductory science, 
technology, 
engineering 

and 
mathematics 
courses 

such as general chemistry. 
Introductory 
courses 
exist 

to teach important concepts 
to a wide audience, but they 
also 
should 
inspire 
and 

excite 
students 
about 
the 

possibilities in a field. Using 
multiple-choice exams as a 
primary method of assessment 
takes this seemingly primary 
goal of inspiring and exciting 
students about STEM and 
makes it secondary.

Take this example of how 

a 
core 
concept 
could 
be 

assessed 
through 
multiple 

methods: 
Intramolecular 

interactions 
underpin 

everyday life, from the boiling 
point of liquids to ensuring 
your stomach enzymes have 
the correct shape to digest 
specific proteins into their 
subcomponent 
amino-acids. 

A 
multiple-choice 
question 

in general chemistry might 
assess this concept by listing 
a number of molecules and 
asking which one does not have 
an 
intramolecular 
interaction 

affecting boiling point, while 
a non-multiple-choice problem 
might ask a student to draw 
the specific interactions that 
stabilize a molecule.

Both 
questions 
assess 

practically the same thing. 
But the feedback the second 
question provides makes it 
more 
valuable. 
A 
student 

who gets the multiple-choice 
question wrong just knows 
that they lack some piece 
of 
understanding 
about 

intramolecular 
interactions. 

In contrast, a non-multiple-
choice 
question 
shows 

students 
immediately 
what 

they understood and missed 
and can award a range of credit 
depending on the completeness 
of the answer. Needless to say, 
the ability to guess correctly 
without understanding seldom 
exists on non-multiple-choice 
questions.

Multiple-choice 
exams 

simply tell students whether 
they answered correctly or 
incorrectly, regardless of if 
they understood 0 percent or 
90 percent of the problem. 
While 
the 
differences 
in 

feedback may be addressed 
with the help of an instructor, 
students who are not always 
inclined to immediately seek 
out help from an instructor 
will feel demoralized if they 
thought they understood most 
of the concept and lost points 
on the full question because 
of a small error. I feel grateful 
that I came to college having 
had terrific mentors in high 
school who encouraged me 
to pursue a path in STEM. 
But I worry that when just 
a few dozen multiple-choice 
problems determine most of 
a grade, those who are just 
testing the waters of STEM 
can 
become 
demoralized 

by how the exam format of 
courses like Chemistry 130 
treat their progress, and may 
leave the field all together, 
as STEM fields have high 
attrition rates.

Some 
may 
deride 
this 

call 
for 
assessments 
that 

recognize 
the 
multiple 

aspects of an answer as a call 
for “participation trophies” 
for answers that aren’t 100 
percent 
correct. 
Multiple-

choice tests are a terrifically 
simple and low-effort way 
to separate an “A” student 
from a “B” student from 
a “C” student. But should 
that be the only goal of an 
assessment in an introductory 
class? Introductory classes, 
especially 
in 
STEM, 
are 

supposed to teach and assess, 
but also should paint students 
a picture of the road ahead if 
they pursue a STEM path.

While using non-multiple-

choice 
exams 
in 
large 

introductory classes requires 
an increase in grading effort 
and costs, in my mind, the 
benefits make them worth it. 
While by no means a panacea 
to all of STEM education’s 
difficulties, 
non-multiple-

choice exams provide students 
with honest feedback about 
their performance instead of 
just a simple score.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, April 18, 2017

REBECCA LERNER

Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

EMMA KINERY

Editor in Chief

ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY 

and REBECCA TARNOPOL 

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.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

STEM should think beyond the bubble

JEREMY KAPLAN | OP-ED

Dear Ford Class of 2017

ROLAND DAVIDSON | COLUMN

Roland Davison can be reached at 

mhenryda@umich.edu.

Jeremy Kaplan is a senior opinion 

editor.

ROLAND 

DAVIDSON

JOE IOVINO | CONTACT JOE JIOVINO@UMICH.EDU

N

obody’s 
perfect. 

It’s 
an 
age-old 

mantra that lets us 

find a bit of comfort in our 
shortcomings. Our mothers, 
friends, teachers and coaches 
have hammered this basic 
pillar of humanity into our 
brains. Imperfections, we are 
taught, are universal and part 
of what make us human.

It is a shame, then, that we 

have begun to view perfection 
more as a choice and less 
as 
a 
pipe 
dream. 
Human 

error, polluted by agendas, 
politicking and biases, has 
slowly warped into a tool 
that 
perpetuates 
division. 

What’s 
more 
disheartening 

is that, more often than not, 
the 
imperfections 
that 
we 

see in others or in ourselves 
are irrelevant in context. We 
are quick to judge but slow to 
empathize. With this line of 
thinking, shortcomings are not 
seen as human error — they 
are seen as inexcusable. Worse 
is that they are used as false 
equivalencies in the hope of 
invalidating things that come 
to our attention.

Take 
the 
latest 
public 

relations faux pas, courtesy 
of United Airlines. In the age 
of social media, it did not take 
long for videos to surface of Dr. 
David Dao being dragged down 
the aisle of a plane by United 
Airline’s security and the bloody 
aftermath. Nor did it take long 
for United Airline’s stock prices 
to tumble or for the boycott 
sirens to ring after United 
Airline’s President Oscar Munoz 
doubled down on the company’s 
self-vindication. But even as 
most of the world criticized 
United Airline’s handling of 
the whole fiasco, a different 

narrative began to emerge in 
other enclaves of the media.

Dao, the headlines read, 

had his own personal demons. 
Information swirled that Dao 
had his medical license revoked 
in 2005 after being convicted 
of 
drug-related 
offenses. 

With this new information, 
the story shifted away from 
the growing injustices levied 
by corporations like United 
Airline’s to the culpability of 
the victim – never mind the 
irrelevance of a nonviolent drug 
offense 12 years ago to being 
manhandled out of a purchased 
seat. The fallacy of the defense 
that “he was no angel” is that 
it overplays any prior mishaps 
of the victim. It provides 
unnecessary 
context 
to 
a 

situation as a false equivalence 
to 
sidestep 
the 
underlying 

problem. Through the wealth 
of information available at our 
fingertips, we have jumped the 
gun in trying to play both sides.

This 
way 
of 
approaching 

controversial situations has come 
to be known as “whataboutism.” 
Whataboutism 
is 
the 
name 

given 
by 
The 
Economist’s 

Edward Lucas to describe a 
propaganda technique birthed 
by the Soviet Union to deflect 
criticisms from the Western 
world by asking “What about … 
?” followed by an event in the 
Western world. Whataboutism 
is dangerous because it makes 
us so hyper-focused on human 
error 
or 
imperfection, 
even 

when 
inapplicable 
to 
the 

overall context, that we neglect 
to 
acknowledge 
the 
initial 

wrongdoing. In Dao’s case, his 
own mishaps over a decade 
ago created the false sense that 
there was more to the story than 
United Airline’s wrongdoing.

But whataboutism has not 

just popped up in isolated 
circumstances. Its resurgence 
in the United States has been 
steady and widespread not just 
in social situations, but also in 
politics. President Donald Trump 
has used whataboutism to avoid 
implicating 
Russian 
Prime 

Minister Vladimir Putin for the 
crimes he has committed against 
people who oppose him. Trump’s 
response 
to 
MSNBC’s 
Joe 

Scarborough’s point that Putin 
“kills journalists that don’t agree 
with him,” was, “Well, I think 
that our country does plenty 
of killing also.” In a February 
interview with Fox News’ Bill 
O’Reilly, in which O’Reilly said, 
“Putin’s a killer,” Trump replied, 
“There are a lot of killers. We’ve 
got a lot of killers. What, do you 
think our country’s so innocent?”

Trump’s 
whataboutism 

implies 
that 
Russia’s 

transgressions are less evil 
because the U.S has its own 
faults. But when Trump uses 
the faults of the U.S as reasons 
to not denounce the mishaps 
of other countries, there is no 
accountability to prevent future 
catastrophes on the global stage. 
This reasoning makes us prone 
to disaster.

The fallacious whataboutism 

that is used to justify matters like 
Dao’s forceful removal from his 
flight and Trump’s foreign policy 
toward Russia is a dangerous race 
to the bottom. When we use one’s 
past to question the legitimacy of 
their victimization, we ignore the 
real issue at hand. Justice should 
not be limited to people who have 
clean records.

Whataboutism distracts from justice

LUCAS MAIMAN | OP-ED

Lucas Maiman is an editorial board 

member.

Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns

Samantha Goldstein

Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Sarah Khan

Anurima Kumar

Ibrahim Ijaz
Max Lubell

Lucas Maiman

Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy 

Jason Rowland

Ali Safawi

Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Stephanie Trierweiler

