Fish, Ponds, and Malcolm Gladwell

Our college counseling survey asks juniors a question about how they prefer to find themselves in relation to their peers: would they rather be a big fish in a small pond or a small fish in a big pond?  Some prefer the perceived anonymity of a big pond; others thrive when leading the school (literally, but also figuratively if we're sticking with the fish analogy).  A few outside-the-box students have responded that they like the idea of being a medium-sized fish in a medium pond.  That's not really what we asked, but OK - fair enough.  At a basic level, I think our question is trying to parse out the size of a student population our student seeks in their college experience.  And I think that's usually how it's interpreted and answered. 

But there's something else it could imply.  Namely, how do you wish to see yourself in relation to your peers, based on ability?  What happens when you interpret the question as asking if you'd rather be struggling at the bottom of an intellectually elite class or dominating (intellectually speaking) in a less competitive class?  Taken this way, I wonder if our students would rethink their answers.  Would you rather be at the bottom of your class at Harvard, or at the top of your class at a less elite school?  Does it matter?  Malcolm Gladwell thinks it might.

In short, Gladwell argues that how students see themselves in reference to their immediate peers trumps the more universal truths about their abilities.  A struggling student at Harvard, for example, may see herself as inept though in reality she is enormously capable compared to all other college students.  But since her self-perception is tied not to that universal comparison but instead only to how she stacks up against her Harvard peers, she may not persevere through a particular Harvard class or major wherein she feels inadequate.  Gladwell doesn't mention this (and I digress), but I wonder if this is even more prevalent among students at the most selective, elite colleges.  Think of the shock of being told you were the best, the brightest, the most brilliant all your life and then struggling through college classes, seemingly outmatched by other bests, brightests, and most brilliants.  You might back out of those classes or stay away from entire majors, as Gladwell suggests is happening, specifically in the STEM fields.  Want to set yourself up for success?  Find a place where you can be one of the brightest students relative to your peers, suggests Gladwell.  Rather than attend the most selective school to which you are admitted, attend one where you'll be among the top students in your field of interest.  This makes you more likely to succeed within that field.  Basically, go where you can be one of the big fish. 

It's an interesting idea: set yourself up to be highly successful in what you want to study, and ignore the perceived prestige of a place.  I think it makes sense in the short term.  If you want to study engineering, you're probably better off going somewhere you're likely to actually complete the engineering curriculum.  And that seems more likely when you're the big fish in the small pond; when you can outshine most of your peers.  But in the long run, if employers and grad schools still place value on the perceived prestige of a place, might one be rewarded for persisting as a mediocre or below average student at the more prestigious school?  Most colleges don't rank their graduating classes, much less report who their top students are to prospective employers.  How does the hiring manager at a graduate's first job tell whether she was the big fish in the small pond?  Might that student still be passed up for one whose resume boasts a fancier-named pond?

I think for Gladwell's advice to be really valuable, there would need to be a way to somehow indicate to the people who will be evaluating you for placement in a job or grad school that you were the big fish, and that your big-fish status should outweigh your school's name.  And perhaps honor societies and named scholarships can accomplish this.  Or maybe it's ok advice to attend the most prestigious school where you can actually persist through your academic field of interest and earn the degree.  After all, it doesn't do you any good to fail out of your STEM major at Harvard.  But maybe scraping by at a prestigious school is at least as good as dominating at a lesser-known place - at least until employers and grad schools find a way to determine how big of a fish you were.  Or maybe, no matter how informed we are, most people will always find it very difficult to ignore the prestige of an institution, even if it would be in their rational best interest to do so.  After all, Gladwell himself couldn't resist the allure of Google.