 The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Opinion
 Wednesday, January 12, 2022 — 9

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EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Julian Barnard
Zack Blumberg
Emily Considine
Brandon Cowit
Jess D’Agostino

Ben Davis
Andrew Gerace
Shubhum Giroti
Min Soo Kim
Jessie Mitchell
Zoe Phillips

Mary Rolfes
Nikhil Sharma
Jack Tumpowsky
Joel Weiner
Erin White

H

arvard 
University 
recently 
announced 
an extension of their 
test-optional policy, which allows 
applicants to forgo submitting 
scores on the dreaded SAT or ACT. 
The policy, first implemented last 
year in response to the COVID-19 
pandemic, will remain in effect 
until 2026. Though the University 
of Michigan has yet to decide 
whether they will follow suit, it is 
not unreasonable to suggest that 
administrators are considering the 
idea. 
Constructing 
an 
argument 
against 
the 
consideration 
of 
standardized 
testing 
in 
U-M 
applications is simple. Our student 
body does not mirror the racial 
makeup of the state of Michigan. 
As a public university, one of our 
institution’s fundamental goals is to 
serve Michigan residents. Analysis 
from the Brookings Institution 
indicates that the large gap in 
SAT test scores between different 
racial groups can be explained by 
family 
income, 
racially-related 
test anxiety and lack of adequate 
preparation. 
They 
also 
cite 
research that finds high school 
GPA predicts college success more 
accurately than an SAT score. 
Because SAT scores influence 
where students apply, are accepted 
and how much financial aid they 
receive, this gap perpetuates the 
underrepresentation of some racial 
groups within elite colleges and 
universities. 
Proponents 
of 
standardized 
testing could counter by arguing 
that even if this outcome is not 
ideal, the SAT is an objective 
assessment. 
Unlike 
personal 
essays which can have wildly 
different levels of quality assigned 
to them based on who is reviewing 
them, an SAT score is one 
number, easily comparable across 
candidates. Proponents of testing 
argue that removing the SAT from 
the admissions process could give 
less qualified students an unfair 
advantage over those who do 
well on the test. Yes, the average 
scores for Black and Latino test 
takers both fall below the College 
Board’s 
“college 
readiness” 
benchmark, but many within 
those groups score above average. 
When admissions officers are 
deciding between two competitive 
applicants, it could theoretically 
come down to a 4.0 GPA, 1200 SAT 

and a 2.9 GPA, 1560 SAT. Relying 
more heavily on SAT scores would 
benefit the latter candidate, even 
if it was the former who worked 
harder in high school, as reflected 
in their GPA, but lacked the proper 
resources to succeed on the SAT. 
Again, noting the evidence that 
SATs are less predictive of college 
success than GPA, the emphasis on 
SATs appears unjustly important. 
Given the previously mentioned 
empirical 
link 
between 
race, income and test scores, 
underrepresented 
students 
applying to the University of 
Michigan would hopefully benefit 
from a shift away from tests. 
However, Meghan McArdle of 
the Washington Post argues that 
Harvard’s decision to continue 
being test-optional will benefit 
wealthier 
children 
instead, 
because they are more likely to 
have exemplary extracurriculars, 
grades 
and 
letters 
of 
recommendation. Without SAT 
scores, admissions officers can (or 
are forced to) justify their decisions 
using less quantitative criteria, 
making them less accountable and 
their process more opaque. 
And yet, in a larger sense, why 
has the debate over test-optional 
policies begun to dominate the 
larger conversation around solving 
educational inequality? Research 
that identified possible reasons 
for the racial gap in test scores 
also point to income and parental 
education as explanatory factors. 
Even if attending an elite school 
would 
give 
underrepresented 
students 
a 
significant 
boost 
in upward mobility, there are 
not many spots at Harvard, 
Yale, Williams or other small 
institutions able to commit an 
inordinate amount of resources to 
each student. 
Even if we accept that changing 
testing policies would increase 
the number of disadvantaged 
students attending those schools, 
that does not change the fact that, 
broadly, SAT scores show a lack of 
adequate primary and secondary 
education for a significant number 
of Americans. For students seeking 
other paths to higher education, 
they are behind, and different 
admissions 
policies 
will 
not 
change that. 
Instead of focusing narrowly 
on 
testing, 
policymakers 
should consider other methods 
of 
lessening 
inequality 
in 
college enrollment, starting by 
reevaluating how we finance 
public K-12 education. In 1994, 

the state of Michigan passed a 
proposal that increased the sales 
tax by 2% and assumed control 
over the allocation of school 
funding, replacing the old system 
based on property taxes. Studies on 
the effects of this policy found that 
it reduced disparities in per-pupil 
spending between school districts 
and increased the percentage 
of students that enrolled in and 
graduated from college. The latter 
benefit was not concentrated 
among the poorest students, but 
this is perhaps partly explained by 
the decisions made at the district 
level to allocate funding towards 
more affluent students. Despite 
that, the reform demonstrated that 
investing in primary education 
can translate into better long-term 
education outcomes. 
Another policy, introduced by 
researchers at the University of 
Michigan, found that providing 
targeted 
information 
about 
financial aid to “high-achieving, 
low income” students resulted in a 
significant increase in applications 
and 
enrollment 
among 
that 
demographic. Students already 
qualified to attend the University 
based on current standards were 
not applying or enrolling simply 
because they did not understand 
the amount of financial aid they 
would receive. 
These kinds of policies, aimed 
at reducing economic disparities 
in college admissions, may or may 
not also reduce racial disparities. 
Given the correlation between 
race, 
education 
and 
income, 
one would hope that racial and 
economic justice can be achieved in 
tandem. Removing standardized 
testing might be the most efficient 
option to quickly reduce racial 
inequality in admissions. It is 
easy to implement and does not 
require additional spending by the 
government or parents. However, 
even setting aside concerns about 
admissions transparency, is the 
most efficient solution always the 
best one? 
We spend 12 years in primary and 
secondary education but only four 
as undergraduates. Preparation 
for a successful college career 
includes the skills and experience 
one 
gains 
throughout 
their 
educational career. By focusing 
almost exclusively on how to alter 
the admissions requirements such 
that different groups can get in, we 
avoid discussing the possibilities 
that bolder, broader changes to 
public education can provide for 
the average American student. 

O

ne Democrat, from a deep-
red state smaller than 
Idaho or Nebraska, has 
attracted attention from across 
the country for his bold moves in 
an increasingly divisive political 
landscape. He has been blasted 
by members of his own party and 
praised by his opposition. Joe 
Manchin, D-W.Va., has suddenly 
emerged as a key player in U.S. 
politics. The senator, a moderate 
from West Virginia, has proved 
himself as a strong and capable 
leader willing to put country 
before party. With the next 
presidential election approaching 
rapidly, Manchin is the perfect 
embodiment of the leader America 
needs in the White House. 
Manchin has had a lengthy 
political career. He first served in 
West Virginia’s House of Delegates 
starting in 1982, before moving onto 
the State Senate and eventually 
securing the posts of secretary of 
state and governor. He then ran for 
U.S. Senate in 2010, where he has 
represented West Virginians ever 
since. 
A centrist, Manchin has played 
a key role in Senate negotiations 
throughout 
his 
tenure, 
often 
voting with Republicans. That 
oppositional posture has only 
become more pronounced since 
President Joe Biden took office at 
the beginning of this year. Manchin 
has 
wielded 
unprecedented 
influence over Biden’s agenda in the 
evenly split 50-50 Senate, where 
one vote makes all of the difference 
on many bills. His unique position 
has earned him the title of “most 
powerful man in Washington.” 
After months of negotiations, 
Manchin lived up to that title when 
he unilaterally sank Biden’s $1.75 
trillion Build Back Better social 
spending bill in dramatic fashion, a 
core piece of the president’s agenda. 
Manchin’s 
announcement 
in 
December that he would be voting 
“no” on the Build Back Better bill 
was quickly met with a storm of 
criticism from fellow Democrats. 
White House Press Secretary 
Jen Psaki accused the senator of 
reversing his position on the bill, 
stating the politician’s comments 
were “at odds with his discussions 
this week with the President, 
with White House staff, and with 
his own public utterances.” Sen. 

Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., said Manchin 
did not “have the courage to do the 
right thing for the working families 
of West Virginia and America,” 
daring him to vote against the 
package on the Senate floor. Rep. 
Ayanna Pressley, D-Mass., said 
Manchin “has never negotiated in 
good faith” and was “obstructing 
the president’s agenda.” 
Undoubtedly, Manchin’s sudden 
announcement after months of 
progress on the bill — the price tag 
of which Democrats cut by half 
to appease Manchin and fellow 
moderates — was a shock to the 
political world. On the other side of 
the aisle, Republicans praised the 
senator’s move, with speculation 
mounting that Manchin was even 
considering flipping his affiliation 
to the Republican Party. Senate 
Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, 
R-Ky., said Republicans “would 
love to have him on our team.”
Essentially, to many Democrats 
and other staunch supporters of 
the Build Back Better bill — which 
promised over half a trillion 
dollars to combat climate change, 
$400 billion for universal pre-K 
education along with hundreds of 
billions for child tax credits, paid 
leave and Medicaid expansion — 
it appears Manchin is now seen 
as the ultimate political enemy. 
Meanwhile, Republicans see him 
as a hero who stopped a pivotal 
piece of Biden’s agenda in its 
tracks, dealing a serious blow to the 
president’s political fortunes. 
It would be a mistake to assess 
Manchin’s 
behavior 
in 
these 
superficial political terms. The 
apparent death of Build Back 
Better may be a short-term loss 
for Democrats and a win for 
Republicans, but let’s instead shift 
our focus to how it would impact 
the country. Millions of Americans 
would have benefited from some 
aspects of this unprecedented 
spending package, but the Build 
Back Better Act had obvious, 
overwhelming 
drawbacks. 
The 
Congressional 
Budget 
Office 
(CBO) found the true cost of the 
bill was far greater than Democrats 
had advertised. If passed, this 
legislation would have contributed 
to our nation’s massive $29.6 
trillion debt, which has swelled 
during the COVID-19 pandemic. 
The 
CBO 
determined 
the 
national debt would have soared 
by a staggering $3 trillion if the 
programs in the bill continued for 
10 years, a likely scenario in this age 

of deficit spending. 
This 
package 
would 
have 
presented an unacceptable risk as 
our nation contends with historic 
levels of inflation, new uncertainty 
surrounding the omicron variant 
and 
tensions 
with 
American 
adversaries like Russia and China. 
Manchin wrote his “Democratic 
colleagues in Washington are 
determined 
to 
dramatically 
reshape our society in a way that 
leaves our country even more 
vulnerable to the threats we face.” 
While it’s critical we help workers, 
parents, students and patients 
through social spending, it needs 
to be done in a far more responsible 
fashion.
At the end of the day, if every 
politician were like Manchin, the 
Build Back Better bill never would 
have received the level of support 
it did. But most aren’t these days. 
The vast majority of our elected 
leaders would rather score political 
points by passing this bill rather 
than acknowledge the economic 
and political risks that it entails. 
For once, a politician transcended 
politics and put the needs of 
the 
country 
first, 
something 
Democrats and Republicans alike 
often cannot muster the courage 
to do. Every American — even 
the 
staunchest 
supporters 
of 
Build Back Better — should praise 
Manchin’s willingness to take a 
true risk and do what he earnestly 
believes is right for his constituents 
and the country.
Sen. Manchin — someone who 
puts Americans first and politics 
second — is the leader we all need 
in these turbulent times. We 
should all hope Manchin seizes 
the opportunity and mounts a 
run for the White House in 2024. 
Less than a year into the Biden 
administration, it’s become clear 
the current president — whose 
approval rating stands at a historic 
low — has failed to solve multiple 
crises, 
from 
Afghanistan 
to 
COVID-19. On the Republican side, 
things don’t look much better. If 
former President Donald Trump 
enters the race for a second term, 
which appears increasingly likely, 
qualified Republican candidates 
may pass on a run for the Oval 
Office.
Manchin 
should 
seriously 
consider making a bid for the 
White House. If he does, every 
American should turn out and vote 
for a leader who will put the nation 
first at every turn.

The “test optional” debate hides the real 
inequities in higher education

Why Joe Manchin is the leader America needs

EVAN STERN
Opinion Columnist

Read more at 
MichiganDaily.com

ALEX YEE
Opinion Columnist

This holiday season, between 
December 24 and December 
31, airlines cancelled 15,000 
flights nationwide. In New 
York City, Broadway shows 
are being cancelled left and 
right, dozens of restaurants 
are closing their doors and the 
recently elected mayor, Eric 
Adams, even cancelled his 
inauguration gala. Though not 
as severe, this soft lockdown 
feels reminiscent of the hard 
lockdown in March 2020. 
As a student, there is one 
parallel course of action that 
stands out the most. Schools 
gave 
students 
a 
two-week 
“break” in early 2020 which 
turned into months of virtual 
instruction. I fear a similar 
fate for my education now 
that many universities are 
delaying the date that students 
will come back to campus, 
and opting instead for two 
weeks 
of 
online 
learning. 
Understandably, a two week 
break may be terrifying to 
the student — of any level — 
who has had years of their 
experience 
ripped 
away 
from them. But we must be 
rational, and try our best to 
understand the damage that 
an unmitigated Omicron wave 
could do to our community.
I do not want school to go 
back online. After losing a year 
and a half of my high school 
experience to virtual learning, 
I 
can’t 
imagine 
missing 
anything more. The loss of my 
last year of high school sports, 
the experience of finally being 
a senior and having time with 
my friends before we all went 
our separate ways has made 
me grateful for the college 
life I have experienced thus 

far. As a result, I am less 
willing to let it go. However, 
as colleges across the country 
— both private and public 
— are starting their spring 
semesters online, my feelings 
have become more ambivalent. 
While I have a strong desire to 
go back, the decision to return 
to in-person classes is not that 
simple. 
As a New Yorker, I have seen 
how Omicron has ravaged the 
city. On walks to the nearby 
coffee cart for my daily fix of 
iced coffee, I am surrounded 
by COVID testing lines that 
have taken over every other 
block. Masks are back to 
being glued on faces, as no one 
dares to pull them down, even 
outside. Even my hometown 
friends, who I may not see 
again for months, have taken 
to self-isolating for fear of 
contracting the virus. After 
only two weeks of break, I am 
already aware of the dangers 
that lie in densely populated 
areas and what is at stake if 
the situation is not handled 
properly. As such, I fear what 
is to come of the University of 
Michigan and its population 
of over 48,000 students and 
29,000 employees. 
With 
students 
returning 
from all corners of the country, 
and some from across the 
globe, 
the 
risks 
of 
rapid 
spread are high. Though there 
will be some who remain 
cautious, there will be many 
who won’t; whether it be 
continuing nightly endeavors 
at packed fraternities or simple 
carelessness like forgetting to 
wear a mask in public places, 
chances are high that we will 
be seeing a surge of Omicron 
cases on campus. If it really 
does come to that, we may be 
looking at an entire semester of 
virtual learning. Considering 

this, I would gladly delay the 
gratification of fully in person 
classes if it means we will 
minimize the amount of time 
that we will be forced online.
So, if the spread of Omicron is 
this serious and many colleges 
have already shut down for a 
week or two, why haven’t we? 
Without the notifications that 
used to inform us of positive 
COVID cases in classrooms, 
what are we left with? The 
requirement 
that 
students 
and faculty receive booster 
shots, 
the 
easily 
avoidable 
ResponsiBlue screening checks 
along with the University’s 
arguably 
lackluster 
contact 
tracing program and isolation 
policies will likely be hard-
pressed to protect our campus 
community from COVID-19. 
As such, it is the University’s 
responsibility to do more. 
Possible solutions include 
mandating 
regular 
COVID 
testing 
— 
even 
for 
fully 
vaccinated students on campus 
— as is the norm at several peer 
colleges and universities across 
the country. The University 
should also consider resuming 
communication about positive 
cases 
across 
campus, 
or 
even 
temporarily 
moving 
lectures online while keeping 
discussion sections in-person. 
The best course of action 
would have been to delay the 
start of in-person classes. But 
we should be cognizant of the 
fact there are scores of other 
actions outside of a full virtual 
pivot that University officials 
could take to make campus 
a safer place. Unfortunately, 
so far the University has 
adopted 
worryingly 
few 
of 
these 
common 
sense 
measures, 
measures 
which 
could hopefully maximize the 
amount of in person learning 
available this term.

COVID-19: Episode 2 – Omicron Strikes Back

PALAK SRIVASTAVA
Opinion Columnist

Social media has a funny way 
of clouding our perceptions of 
ourselves. Being barraged with 
everyone else’s perfected versions 
of their lives, at least for me, 
makes it incredibly difficult to 
resist comparing and scrutinizing 
myself against others. This is my 
beef with Instagays. Instagays, 
attractive gay men on Instagram 
who have followings that surpass 
the tens of thousands, are an 
established facet of the culture 
of gay men. Surpassing the 
occasional thirst trap, these men 
post pictures that are aspirational, 
aesthetic, seductive and fine-
tuned to take full advantage of 
social media algorithms. 
Each time an Instagay comes 
across 
my 
feed 
during 
my 
social media scrolls, a cognitive 
dissonance arises within me. On 
the one hand, they elicit my desire. 
On the other hand, they deflate my 
self-esteem because I will never 
measure up to their good looks and 
immaculate lifestyle. Instagays 
obscure the perceptions of how 
gay men see themselves and what 

they expect the appearances of 
other gay men to be. There needs 
to be a wider recognition that gay 
men with rippling abs who party 
every weekend are a minority, 
rather than the majority, in the gay 
community. This understanding 
would help elevate the self-esteem 
of many gay men and recalibrate 
the expectations that we gay men 
have for each other.
Instagram 
is 
a 
notorious 
enemy of self-worth. This app’s 
image-based interface makes it 
easy to see attractive influencers 
flaunting excessively glamorous 
lifestyles within a few taps. 
Facebook is aware that Instagram 
is taking a toll on the mental health 
of its users. According to insider 
research at Facebook, “Thirty-
two percent of teen girls said that 
when they felt bad about their 
bodies, Instagram made them feel 
worse.” Instagram creates a self-
esteem addiction fueled by likes 
and followers. 
The app’s potent effect on 
mental health is all the more 
worrisome 
when 
looking 
at 
Instagays. And, the LGBTQ+ 
community 
historically 
has 
higher rates of mental illness, 
especially depression and anxiety. 

These elevated rates of mental 
illness, combined with an app 
that is chock full of chiseled 
gay men living it up in the party 
capitals of the world, are a recipe 
for the destruction of gay male 
self-esteem. With a history of 
anxiety and confidence issues, 
I myself have fallen victim to 
late night social media scrolls 
that turn into self-loathing pity 
parties. Sometimes seeing a fellow 
gay man who is seemingly the 
most attractive, successful man 
who has ever existed triggers 
depreciative thoughts that make 
me feel lonely and defeated.
Social media is not an accurate 
representation of reality. Read 
that last sentence over again 
until it truly sinks in. It’s a piece 
of wisdom we’ve all heard many 
times over, yet many of us still 
fall prey to the lures of that one 
Instagram page that reminds us of 
what we’re not and what we don’t 
have. Instagram is a doctored 
version of reality. It is Photoshop 
on steroids. Social media posts 
highlight all of the high points of 
one’s life and never the lows. 

The danger of Instagays

BENJAMIN DAVIS
Opinion Columnist

