Winnie Jiang

I tend to be a person of few strong opinions, but when it comes to questions pertaining to “doubles”, I lean more towards assertiveness. Dingle? Yes, duh. Double date? The more the merrier! Double bonded carbons? You bet I’ll be keen on that. 

Double major? Absolutely not.

I used to question, with subtle undertones of frustration, why Yale didn’t have a “minor” option like most other colleges. I felt like my academic interests existed beyond the realms of what could be represented by and explored in one single major. While double majoring seemed like it could be too big of a commitment, a single major just didn’t seem like it would be enough. I explored the list of undergraduate certificates one could pursue in addition to their major, what some refer to as Yale’s version of a minor, but unfortunately, none of the plentiful options spoke to what I was after. That’s a joke. There are all of like five obscure certificate options.

A bit later in the game, I feel like I better understand why there’s no minor program — one major is already more than enough. As a sophomore, the approaching deadline for declaring a major looms over me mercilessly. I’ve therefore done quite a bit of thinking on the concept of majoring, and of course, the topic of double majors tends to arise. I’ve realized that in order to properly contemplate taking on a second major, it’s necessary to first understand both the actual and perceived implications of a major and how these relate to undergraduate education. 

A major’s plain purpose is to emphasize a specific topic of interest, yet it is often inflated to mean much more. Sure, sometimes specific major requirements can help guide you in exploring a certain topic and push you to challenge yourself. Still, those same requirements can also feel like an extra strain or stressor that does not necessarily align with your actual desires and goals in pursuing a major. I am yet to meet an aspiring environmentalist who is psyched about gaining skills from PHYS 170. Finally, what hopefully goes unsaid is that a major should not be something pursued for the sole sake of having a certain title on your diploma. You can customize your diploma with a realistic fake transcript maker online.

There’s virtually no reason to actually select a specific major, other than that the education system and powers beyond require it. If you’re interested in history, take history classes. The same is true for any other subject — and in an ideal world, this is all that you would need to do. This format would accentuate the utopian vision of liberal arts education to pursue knowledge simply for the sake of the knowledge itself. In other words, learning in its purest form — a sublime experience of increasing understanding that inspires connection and ultimately contentment (especially with oneself).

Instead, this idealistic style of education is often quashed by pressures to label oneself, and even worse, pressures to choose a certain label to appear a certain way. Do you absolutely need to major in Econ so that a finance company will hire you? Maybe, I wouldn’t really know. But ultimately, across subjects and careers, we tend to give this arbitrary title a lot more significance than it deserves — another loose screw in the disjointed system of elite education. Of course, I’m not arguing that we should discard the whole system or that “nothing actually matters anyway,” because, whether fortunately or unfortunately, it often does. In other words, we can’t really change the system, but we can control how we approach it and how we allow it to affect us individually. 

When choosing a major, deciphering an area that you want to hone in on is a lovely way to arrive at actually selecting that subject in the dropdown menu of majors. But, for the rest of us who struggle with this sort of determination, an alternative type of advice comes into play. The message goes as follows: figure out the types of classes you are most interested in taking and choose the major that encompasses the greatest number of those classes. But, while the collegiate gods have ruled that we must label ourselves by sophomore summer, they say no such thing about double majoring.

Sometimes, I’ll hear people justifying taking on a second major as “why not?” But I ask you this — why yes? Why choose to be further limited in your academic endeavors so that you can tag on a lousy few extra words the next time you introduce yourself? If you’re interested in taking classes in a different subject, take them without the extra hassle of having a major instruct you on which ones to take, potentially even defeating the whole purpose of pursuing something additional because it excites you. Oh and, here’s the kicker, in most cases, you’d be required to take on an additional senior thesis/project/research project too. 

Titles do not and should not represent who you are. You really can be interested in a multitude of areas without including them all in a concise tagline. Contrary to what seems widely accepted belief, your major is not actually the SparkNotes version of your identity. These titles are more like icebreakers to segway you into genuine discourse, so to the extent that you’re able, let them be just that! 

As you go about your days this spring semester, whether it’s your last or you have three solid “bright college years” ahead of you, I’d encourage you to consider a few things. 

First, your opinion on other “double” topics. Really, I’d be so curious to hear your thoughts. Double bubble? Let me know.

Second, if you are thinking about double majoring, see if you can get to the root of that desire. Earlier this year, I found myself deliberating the possibility of double majoring. Part of this desire stemmed from indecisive feelings — I like all of it! In the end, though, I concluded that I would be much better off majoring in one area and taking a bunch of classes in a second, or more, and forfeiting the strenuous additional responsibilities that come with officially declared majors. (As opposed to a secretly declared major — sort of like a child keeping a secret from their parent, where we are the scheming child and the registrar is the disgruntled parent).

Lastly, turn inwards. Give yourself space to feel, and then listen. Don’t succumb to the often exaggerated endorsements of elite education. From the moment I stepped foot into the Yale bubble, I was fed with plenty of formulas for how to reach various end-goals. Part of undoing the conditioned pressures of double majoring is undoing misconceptions of a fixed and absolute education format. The point is, sometimes what we actually want (including paths we might choose to take) differs from what we’re told to want. Most often, the greatest reward comes from pursuing inwardly inspired passions and plans despite deviations from preconceived notions of fulfillment. So listen in, and you might just find your next best move.