Stewed vegetables. That’s all the nun had stuffed into its mouth. But for the person in question, the action only made things more bewildering. In other words, it—I—am Tanya.
Thus, a cry arose from the depths of its soul: Why?
AUGUST 14, AD 1971, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
On August 14, 1971, a team of researchers led by Dr. Philip Zimbardo commenced an experiment under a grant received from the United States Department of the Navy’s research institute, the Office of Naval Research (ONR). The planned duration was a mere two weeks. Its objective was to collect rudimentary data on an issue with Marine Corps prisons that the navy was also facing.
The participants recruited for this experiment were normal college students of sound mind and body. On the second day, however, the team ran into a serious ethical problem.
Not only did those who had been assigned to be guards verbally abuse and degrade the ones in the prisoner role, despite the prohibition of such behavior, but also acts of physical violence had become increasingly prevalent. As a result, the team was forced to discontinue the trial only six days after it began.
This later became known as the Stanford Prison Experiment. Ironically enough, notwithstanding the pitfalls of the project’s dubious morality, the results were replete with implications for the field of psychology. Along with its predecessor, the Milgram Experiment, the Stanford Prison Experiment demonstrated something fundamental about human nature.
In an isolated space, individuals would submit to power and authority, while those in dominant positions would wield it without restriction. Analysis of this phenomenon, known as “obedience to authority,” yielded shocking results. Surprisingly, this deference had nothing to do with a person’s rationality, sensibility, or personality but was instead the product of remarkable deindividuation triggered by the assignment of roles.
In other words, the two experiments demonstrated that human behavior was dependent on environment. To put it in extreme terms, the results indicated that anyone could have worked as a guard at Auschwitz, regardless of their individual disposition or moral character.
In the end, environment played a larger role defining an individual than personal traits. When he learned in university that humans were that sort of creature, it felt right rather than wrong.
Surely everyone learns as part of compulsory education in elementary school that all people are born equal. Children are taught that they are all equally unique and irreplaceable. But it isn’t hard to find disparities that contradict those familiar maxims.
Why is the kid sitting in front taller than me?
Why are some of my classmates good at dodgeball and others aren’t?
Why can’t the kid next to me solve such a simple problem?
Why can’t the kids in the back be quiet when the teacher’s talking?
But in an elementary school environment, children are expected to be “good.” They are told that everyone is different yet special. They are terrified that if they don’t follow etiquette, they will be “bad.” And so the “good kids” strive to avoid becoming “bad.”
By the time they begin attending cram schools to prepare for entrance exams, the good kids secretly look down on the bad kids and make a point of avoiding them. They will enter a good junior high, followed by a respectable high school, and then a prestigious university. These people are on the fastest track, doing their best within the rules and regulations presented to them.
In order to remain good in that environment, students have to do exactly as they are told and always meet everyone’s expectations. Just as they are told, they spend day after day hunched over textbooks and reference books, competing with classmates for grades. As they lead such a life, those engaged in the fierce battle of college entrance exams come to view idlers as losers. Within an environment where grades determine everything, it’s only natural for high achievers to hold poor students in contempt. On the other hand, the majority of those successful students don’t consider themselves especially bright. After all, it has long been the case that whenever a regular student shows even a little pride, the truly gifted in their grade put them in their place.
One student might be having a hard time while the kid next to him is nonchalantly entering the International Physics or International Mathematical Olympiads. It takes more than a little effort to sit shoulder to shoulder in a classroom with geniuses for whom comprehending all the material is a given. Despite the warped perspective, they have a strong enough grasp on reality to diligently pursue their studies.
Whether they like it or not, all college-bound students know the truth. If they want an income comparable to what their parents possess, they have to attend a good university and get a decent job, at the very least. This group is driven by a strong, youthful desire to succeed. But along with that desire comes the fatal fear of failure. As such, they have no choice but to chain themselves to their desks.
After struggling in that harsh world, the best students pass the entrance exams for universities worthy of being called “prestigious.” Then the game changes. Many are forced to realize that they have entered a world where people are no longer evaluated by grades but the question What have you achieved?
Those who can adapt to the sudden paradigm shift and new environment do. Obey the rules. Search for the loopholes. Sneer at the guidelines despite being bound by them. In the end, everyone learns that rules are necessary to make the system run smoothly.
Freedom without laws means anarchy; laws without freedom means tyranny. So as much as they hate restrictions, they fear unlimited freedom.
He failed to understand people who came late to class. He couldn’t see the value of people who drank themselves into oblivion. He couldn’t comprehend the sporty types who droned on about the power of the human spirit.
But when he encountered the Chicago school1 and saw how these works applied rationality to the relationship between rules and freedom, he was ecstatic. After all, it meant that he could stay on track as long as he played by the rules. He managed to exude the appearance of a diligent university student while hiding the fact that he was a nerd. In essence, that’s what it meant to be free within the confines of the rules.
As far as friends were concerned, he enjoyed hanging around with his high school buddies as well as a bunch of kindred spirits he met in college. This was his moratorium until he went out into the world, although he still made sure to improve himself and develop connections. Naturally, he invested in his human capital by acquiring language skills and culture to a point. That plus his educational background, according to the theory of signaling, would project society’s ideal of a “good college student.”