The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [190]
Chapter 14
CAFETERIA FRINGE: LUCKY AND FREE
It is natural for people to want to join groups, and to do what they believe they need to do—like exclude—in order to be accepted into those groups. Groups can, of course, provide benefits. But there’s a catch.
Consider the jellybean jar game, in which the person who comes closest to guessing the correct number of beans wins the jar. There is a trick to winning this game, or at least coming close. If you play once and alone, you have small chance of victory. However, if you play with a group, you have much better odds, and not only because of the higher number of guesses. When a large enough group plays the game, the arrangement of the guesses resembles a skewed bell curve (bounded by the number zero). The average of those guesses will approach the actual number of jellybeans—and usually will be more accurate than 95 percent of individual players’ guesses. If you waited until all of the members of your group had guessed, averaged their answers, and submitted the result as your own guess, you would have an excellent chance at a jellybean dinner.
There’s an interesting caveat, however, that makes this game relevant here. This trick works only when each group member comes up with his guess alone, without sharing information or strategies. “The more diverse the group of participants,” neuroscientist Gregory Berns explained in Iconoclast, “the better the group’s average. The only thing that matters is that the participants act independently of one another.”
Groups are most advantageous when they consist of diverse members, when each person can act as an individual, bringing something different to the table. A study group wouldn’t fare well if each student were an expert on the same subject. A potluck meal wouldn’t be satisfying if everyone brought the same dish. Yet many perceived popular students demand that group members stick to the same bland fare. In the school setting, the higher a group’s status, the more likely it is to require unanimity. “The more influence a group’s members exert on each other . . . the less likely it is that the group’s decisions will be wise ones,” journalist James Surowiecki wrote in The Wisdom of Crowds. “The more influence we exert on each other, the more likely it is that we will believe the same things and make the same mistakes.” The conformity that tends to characterize student social circles, then, negates many of the benefits of belonging to a group in the first place.
It is arguable that outcasts are not only courageous, not only crucial, valuable contributors to society, but also, in a way, lucky. Cafeteria fringe status can be a blessing that allows people to embrace and express their true selves because, having already been labeled as different from preconceived norms, they’re not expected to act like everybody else. Outcasts may be persecuted or shunned, but they are also free. Just as the Straight Edge label validated Regan’s decision not to drink, cafeteria fringe labels validate students’ decisions to resist conformity. Cafeteria fringe status liberates them from the confines of rigid teen boxes, saving a student the time, energy, and frustration of trying to be someone he’s not.
Undoubtedly the loneliness that may accompany this freedom can be a heartrending price to pay. But most people are lonely at times. As countless students—like Whitney, like Blue—have indicated to me over the years, just because a student has company doesn’t mean that she’s not lonely. Better to be lonely and real than