There are several fundamental advertising rules that come into play. First, perceived scarcity of a product increases its perceived value. That is, if something seems difficult to get, you will want it that much more. This is why companies promote “limited-time offers” and claim “supplies are going fast” (while often neither are true). Regarding Bicker, the fact that it is difficult to get into a certain club generates an automatic desire to be there.
Now you’re probably saying to yourself, “Well, that can’t be true. I have a friend in X bicker club and he/she loves everything about it.” My second point: You like what you suffer for. The word “suffer” simply implies that you have put a great deal of effort into getting what you have. When you work extremely hard to get something, you convince yourself that it was worth the effort, especially when the actual rewards are fewer or less salient than you expected (see “Cognitive Consequences of Forced Compliance,” by Leon Festinger and James Carlsmith, in the Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology). This leads to a cognitive process called “spreading the alternatives,” in which you inflate the positive aspects of your decision while deflating the negatives — and vice versa for the options you didn’t choose (“Self-Image Resilience and Dissonance: The Role of Affirmational Resources” by Claude Steele, Steven Spencer and Michael Lynch, in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology).
Still, you argue, “I really think the average Princeton student is intelligent enough to know the difference between real and perceived value.” Really? If I had to pick a single population that would fall victim to these simple psychological tricks, it would be Princeton students. We are a self-selecting group — highly competitive individuals with inflated egos and no sense of priority. “What? I do have priorities. I manage my time extremely well!” No, you balance your desire to perfect your schoolwork with doing an unnecessarily large number of extracuricular activities. Meanwhile, you blow off your friends in an attempt to receive a marginally better grade on that upcoming exam, then you hastily schedule a session to win back your friends’ affection right before getting back to work.
Through the course of this neurotic see-sawing, you neglect to consider which eating club you truly want to join. My third point: People are most likely to fall victim to normative influence when they are pressed for time, are not particularly invested in the decision or are chronically distracted. Princeton students generally fill all three criteria. The “intelligence” of Princeton students is their downfall. They are academically brilliant, feel a need to maintain the perception of their brilliance and eschew social contact as a result. We indiscriminately use judgmental heuristics, rather than logic, to sort out non-academic decisions. When we must decide between bickering and signing in, the choice is simple because it’s wired into our basic functioning — “selectivity equals quality, so I should bicker.” In the end, you desperately hope to be accepted by a bicker club because, being a Princeton student, you love feeling like you’ve accomplished something. Acceptance becomes another gold star on your self-esteem resume.
I have explained that Bicker is a psychological trick, but that still does not fix the issue of a lack of better solutions. Bicker supporters claim that Bicker does not exist to be selective, but simply to ensure that members can choose bickerees who would fit in well with the existing social structure of the club. They argue that Bicker leads to greater homogeneity among the club members, and consequently a stronger sense of community and belonging.
Fair enough, but this premise is fundamentally flawed for two reasons. One reason is that Bicker is a terrible predictor of personality or compatibility. Contrary to the thoughts expressed by Chris Troein in his recent column, “I got hosed and I still like Bicker,” I do not believe that bicker represents anything close to a “social meritocracy.” I cannot imagine how cursory meetings in which bickerees sell themselves like cattle or engage in ridiculous stunts provide any indication of who they really are. People like Troein, who liken Bicker to the college application process, are mistaken — Bicker predicts compatibility as well as online IQ tests predict intelligence, and in much the same manner.
Secondly, the selective process of Bicker inevitably breaks up already-established groups of friends. This leads to less cohesion, not more. Sign-in clubs are much stronger communities because groups of friends generally join together. If you wish to break with your old friends and meet new people by joining a club without them, that’s great! But eating clubs should not make that decision for you.
I’m not saying that Bicker is a malicious, concerted attempt to exclude certain people from certain clubs. I am saying that it is an antiquated process that remains in place because Princeton students have a compulsive aversion to change and individuality. Freshmen: If you want to bicker next year, go for it — if that’s your style. But I’m willing to bet, for most of you, it’s not.
David Mendelsohn is a sophomore from Rockville Centre, N.Y. He can be reached at dmendels@princeton.edu.
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