Why your Valentine’s Day sucked

I made your Valentine’s Day suck. But you should thank me.

Since 1754, the very first time a Columbia student pulled a library all-nighter instead of showering, socially inept Columbians like me have made happy, successful dating virtually impossible here. You probably know many of these jerks: Students who actually read for CC. Students majoring in computer science. Students who maintain a ranking of favorite Columbia libraries but have never been to a Morningside Heights bar. Students who are so hungry for attention that they have a Spec column titled “Tony Gong Explains the Universe.”

The world hates these romantically disinclined Columbians. From the Varsity Show’s satirical depictions of Columbia dating, to Shane Ferro’s acerbic cover article “Sexless in the City” from volume 6 issue 5 of The Eye, to that angry girl who lived on my Carman floor—no one seems to forgive us for how we’ve corrupted love at Columbia, or for that weird week when I kept accidentally walking in on you while you were doing “8 Minute Abs.” If it were really only eight minutes long, how did I walk in on you every time?

But these sentiments will soon be in our past because I’m here to stick up for us love-deflecting Columbians. Everyone thinks we are the worst—maybe even worse than that all cheese sandwich at HamDel. But the truth is those exact characteristics that make us awkward, romantic failures are the same ones that give the Columbia experience its true greatness.

First of all, we are incredibly afraid of rejection. This fact alone can actually explain most of my romantic problems: why I’m nervous about approaching girls, why it’s easier for me to remain agreeable in conversation instead of provoking interest, why I settled to take Naomi Ingram to junior prom instead of asking out Audrey Lin again, etc. But these are all pretty minor issues. And Audrey Lin would’ve just said no again.

The bigger picture is that this basic insecurity and desire for success is precisely what drives Columbia students to do the very cool things that we do. If Columbia students as a population actually had good self-esteem, those kids wouldn’t have been so motivated to spend nine hours building that huge igloo on South Lawn last week. Hilarious and creative projects like PrezBo’s fake Twitter account would never have been conceptualized. There would definitely be no one in the Philolexian Society. And I’ll honestly take the South Lawn igloo over Audrey Lin any time. Unless it’s Audrey Lin in the South Lawn igloo. That would be awesome.

Another commonly cited “problem” is that we intellectualize too much. One of my exes sometimes said that I wasn’t emotionally supportive because I would even turn a conversation about the source of her feelings into an intellectual debate. Which I would always win, by the way.

And yet, even though I really like touching and feeling things, the fact is that Columbia should never be a touchy-feely place. Columbia’s greatness is derived from the fact that it’s intrinsically a school for analytical people. The only way for a school to possibly pull off badass moves like the Core or carving all those pretentious names onto Butler is to ensure that its students will always be just as hyperintellectual and insensitive to emotional support as we are. If I had really wanted to be with other touchy-feely people after graduating high school, I would’ve just tried to sneak back into fifth grade. But they did catch me when I went back after middle school, so I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to work again.

Finally, the most fundamental claim against the romantically disinclined is that we’re self-centered. And I admit this is very true. We make conscious decisions to focus all our energies on our own schoolwork, summer plans, and igloos instead of girlfriends, boyfriends, and potential igloo-friends. Our individual lives feel so busy that, for most of us, it’s impossible to conceive genuinely committing to the life of another.

But this is far from a mark of degeneracy. Productive self-centeredness, particularly at our age, demonstrates a respect for our future lives and their many, many possibilities. One of the few things that truly unifies Columbia students is our driven curiosity about our places in the world. And we do tend to be pretty talented at stuff, so it’s appropriate for us to focus on this self-centered question right now. That doesn’t mean we’ll never be able to find love. It just means we probably shouldn’t try to find it in college.

Unless you’re Audrey Lin in the South Lawn igloo.

Tony Gong is a junior in the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences majoring in applied math with a minor in philosophy. Bears frighten him. Tony Gong Explains the Universe runs alternate Thursdays. opinion@columbiaspectator.com