You are alive. You are reading this newspaper.
Our senses indicate that we live in a physical universe, bound by time and space, but immeasurably enriched by the beauty of life that endlessly surprises us. No one is quite sure why, but the University is working on a project to circumvent that which we have always known so fondly as "existence."
Princeton has recently begun pouring money into a software program known as Second Life. The University owns a plot of "land" in cyberspace on which it is reconstructing such familiar landmarks as Nassau and Alexander Halls. The design is imperfect; The campus floods only after heavy rains. Though no full explanations have been offered, the challenges presented by this initiative are already clear.
While it is true that a generation of students and faculty has largely been wooed by the convenience of email, the fun of iTunes and the utility of Blackboard, all without serious deleterious effect, Second Life is different. Facilitating the human interactions that positively shape our intellect and enhance our lives is not the same as replacing them entirely with the soullessness of the Internet. There have been rumors of digital precepts. Shall we truly come full circle to the intellectual abyss that precepts were designed to remedy? Do not "virtual" classrooms yield "virtual" learning? We are human beings, not "avatars." For a campus to be free and open, we must speak with our own voices and hear with our own ears.
In fairness, we do not yet know the purpose of this program. Perhaps alumni will be interested in seeing Princeton online and will have fond memories of Chancellor Green. Perhaps perspective students will lie about their age to catch a glimpse of what could be. Maybe if the software is flashier more strangers will download our lectures. To some, these applications may seem trivial, but more importantly they are harmless. Should Second Life begin to intersect or usurp student life, however, this campus will be radically worse off for it.