Angelique de Rouen
“Lust is obvious,” I began. “Think about those M4F or F4M posts that are always circulating on Fizz. Hordes of people are forever hunting for someone to hook up with, or their so-called ‘yife’ or ‘yusband’ on this campus.”
The principle behind this piece was simple: write about the seven deadly sins and relate them to Yale’s context. The prompt perhaps warranted a humorous approach. Sitting with friends who generously allowed me to bounce my ideas off them, we laughed at various “universal” Yalie experiences that pointed to how Elis may have been overcome by these fatal vices.
Continuing my spiel, I mentioned messages I’d read scribbled on the walls of the stacks. Dating back years and often vividly sexual, several lamented how, for the lack of better word, “horny” their authors were. Lust was clearly rampant on this campus — and thus sorted for the sake of my list. But college students having sex on their minds was hardly a revelation, nor a Yale-specific phenomenon.
“Investment groups or those ultra-competitive clubs could be pride,” a friend of mine added. “Certain frats and sororities could fit the bill for gluttony,” said another. “Sloth could be everyone on a Saturday before the collective panic that inevitably arises on Sunday,” I considered.
But even as my scope narrowed to consider the nuances of the Yale experience, I found myself dissatisfied by the examples and attributions of each sin. There seemed to be a common denominator to each — one I couldn’t quite place my finger on until reading a recent piece promulgated by Publius which triggered a train of thought.
Lonely ambition.
Not the notion of ambition itself — we’re all here because we had something to prove and something to strive for. But the excessive, isolating version of it: the force that permeates the campus with its anxious busybodying fervour for success.
Consider it. Yalies, before even stepping foot onto these hallowed halls, are inducted into the “work hard, play hard” mentality that defines our social landscape. An exhausting Monday to Friday run drives us out of our colleges over the weekend to the nearest frat, where solo cups of dubious concoctions promise the ability to forget our perpetual workload strain.
This partying domain inevitably becomes the breeding ground — no pun intended — for Yale’s hookup culture. Though sexual excitement is an inevitable and natural byproduct of the eagerness of newly-independent adults who have free access to dorm beds, Yalies’ hunt for their latest conquest is perhaps catalysed by the desire to “blow off steam” — no pun intended again. We search for people with whom we can momentarily escape — a salve for the loneliness wrought by the day-to-day hustle.
Similarly, the sometimes arrogant dispositions of finance clubs and co can be contextualised by the panic to buff resumes and clinch internships. Students want to ensure the realisation of one’s ambitions in a particularly challenging job market.
The gluttony of societies can be conceived through the lens of both partying hard and securing socially advantageous relationships where possible.
The sloth that catalyses the torrent of alarm on a Sunday is perhaps not even sloth itself — but a shut-down from a tired week of ceaseless work that is ascribed the guilty label of “laziness” as students regretfully buckle down in Bass before the dawn of Monday morning.
This is all to say that perhaps no “seven sins” plague the Yale experience. Rather, students are haunted by the effects of the one: our inability to manage the negative manifestations of enormous ambition, which propel us to use our relationships as a means of escape, or opportunistic clout.