In his characteristically contrarian and insightful book, David and Goliath, Malcolm Gladwell writes a chapter about a young woman he christens “Caroline Sacks,” who drops her love of science after being overwhelmed by the high-octane competition of an Ivy League university. In a rigorous statistical analysis, Gladwell demonstrates how Ms. Sacks would have been better off at a less-selective, less-demanding institution, making a strong case for the merits of being a “Big Fish in a Little Pond.” So far, so good.
What’s puzzling is that, after mentioning smaller colleges such as Hartwick, and citing statistics from others such as Kalamazoo and Ohio Wesleyan, he is willing to go along with Caroline’s assertion that she’d “still be in science” if she had attended the much-larger University of Maryland. Yes, the standardized testing metrics would have been more fully on her side; however, the chances of her having a personal mentor to guide her through the rigors of laboratory science would not increase and probably diminish. At such a large university, she might have been, to modify Gladwell’s terms, “An Able Fish in an Ocean.” Gladwell is missing the human element.
As a college counselor for many years, one of my mantras for students like Caroline became, “Go to college for college, and save the university for graduate school.” Statistics such as standardized test scores do have relevance, but no numbers (forgive the unfortunate current reality-TV/political connotations) “trump” the student-to-faculty ratio, especially where matters of full-time undergraduates-to-tenure track professors are concerned. At an institution that places top priority on its undergraduates, all professors teach them, there are no graduate student teaching assistants, and the chance for true mentoring of an undergraduate aspiring to be a scientist by an experienced person who already is one will be greater.
In short, as Gladwell demonstrates, but oddly doesn’t definitively conclude, Caroline would have been better off at a smaller liberal arts institution with a great science department, not a major research university that puts significant resources into all sorts of things other than providing the best Bachelor of Science experience possible. All the graduate programs, the Master’s degrees and Doctorates—to say nothing of the commitment to NCAA Division I intercollegiate athletic programs—have no direct benefit for undergraduates pursuing science for love of the discipline, as Caroline Sacks so clearly expressed the desire to do.
She made the wrong choice in Brown, but I doubt Maryland would truly have been the right alternative for her. Of the colleges she visited, given what we learn about her, I would have counseled her toward Wesleyan and perhaps Providence, and talked with her about her observation that “Wesleyan was fun but very small,” because “fun” and “small” are good characteristics for someone who says she was “really, really into bugs. And sharks.” These are unusual interests that need careful nurturing, challenge and support. Caroline would have been more likely to find such human characteristics at smaller schools where professors had time to get to know her and further her love of science. If one studies the undergraduate institutions for those who eventually earn PhDs, a disproportionate percentage start in liberal arts settings, not research universities. Such colleges, even ones with small graduate programs in disciplines other than science--such as Wesleyan and Drew University, where I work--are the right places for young people like Caroline.
This topic is especially close to my experience as a counselor in light of conversation I had with a young woman I had counseled who graduated from another Ivy League institution a few years ago. Having been a superstar at our secondary school—valedictorian, 5’s on many APs, 700’s on all SATs and Subject Tests, more college campus summer study work than any student I had seen in 30 years—she returned from her Ivy League graduation, sat on the couch in my office and said,
“I’ll never forget what you told me.”
“What’s that?”
“That I would need a bullet-proof ego.”
This amazing young woman did not fall completely away from her dreams as Caroline did, but she did have her world rocked by the ability, ambition, and drive she found all around her at the highest level of selectivity and competition. The “Big Pond”—truly a Great Lake or Ocean—didn’t drown her, but it apparently had her sputtering and gasping for air at times, and postponing her own initial plan of medical school. Another amazing student I helped on her way to the same Ivy League institution has just admirably launched a social media support network for fellow undergraduates who find themselves reeling from the overwhelming experience of going from being the biggest of fish in a high school pond, to what feels like being a minnow or guppy about to be dashed on the rocks by a huge wave.
My reaction to Gladwell’s chapter is thus to thank him for raising the issue of finding the right fit for all undergraduates but to chide him for citing such relevant statistics from smaller institutions yet allow Caroline to choose the large over the small, the multidimensional research university with a wide range of competing priorities over the smaller college or university that means—above all—to provide the best undergraduate experience possible, preparing young people to be even better off the day they graduate than the day they were admitted. The high point for Caroline came the day she got into Brown. That’s a shame. It could have been the day she graduated from a liberal arts institution with a Bachelor of Science, on her way to a research university for her Doctorate in the science of her choice.
