For today's column, let's change things up and talk about some biology.
I know, I know — biology sucks. The professors are pretentious blowhards. The material is dry. Yadda yadda yadda.
Biology classes might be as useless as Christopher Reeve's spinal cord, but there are still valuable lessons we can learn from them.
For instance, one of the major fields of biology is taxonomy — the classification of all living organisms.
When we talked about taxonomy in the classroom, we were taught the general classifications: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus and species.
As dull as taxonomy seemed in class, we use a similar classification system daily. On a typical walk through the Quad, you can easily group many of your fellow students into a few general classifications based on their external characteristics.
We're already pretty much aware of these cliques. There are the athletes, the cleat chasers, the loudmouth political science majors, the snobby English majors, the gloomy goths, the puerile punks, the obnoxious skateboarders, the pompous sorority girls, the preppy frat boys ... the list of stereotypes goes on and on.
But upon closer examination, there's a much simpler way to classify these various social sects. Most students, like every other member of the animal kingdom, can be classified as either vertebrates or invertebrates.
So what exactly does this mean?
Put simply, vertebrates have backbones; invertebrates don't.
At face value, this description is no different than the standard biology textbook definition. But from a social standpoint, the implications extend a bit further.
Students classified as vertebrates exhibit certain distinguishing traits. They are rugged individuals. They don't follow the herd mentality. They don't base their self-worth on other's opinions. They avoid investing their identities entirely in a particular group or organization.
Then there's the second group: the invertebrates. Invertebrates can readily be described as followers. The opposite of vertebrates, they invest their entire self-worth in particular groups and clubs. They don't stray from the flock. Their self-image is entirely sculpted by others.
So what separates biological vertebrates and invertebrates from sociological vertebrates and invertebrates?
Choice.
Ferrets and felines, for instance, don't have much say in their inbred genetic traits. Frat boys, on the other hand, consciously embrace their stereotypes as if they were perfectly paired with their particular fraternity based on eHarmony's 29 dimensions of "confratablility."
From an outsider's perspective, it's hard to imagine why anyone would pay top dollar for such low-grade company. It's even harder to imagine why any guy would deliberately go out of his way to portray themselves as spoiled, obnoxious and sexually-depraved.
Nevertheless, swarms of young, acceptance-craving pledges are cranked out of the frat boy assembly line every fall, producing an army of spineless bro-tards that come fully-loaded with dysfunctional thinking skills, abusive alcoholic tendencies and a wildly inflated yet perpetually unquenched libido.
Of course, frat boys are only the most obvious example. It should be noted most fraternity members don't fit the aforementioned description.
But the point is clear: You can gain acceptance without losing your spine and trashing your self-dignity.
That said, certain kinds of "stereotyping" are completely rational if they're based on sound reasoning and not prejudice.
Rational "stereotyping" is a built-in evolutionary safeguard. It helps us classify our cognitive perceptions in concrete, easy-to-understand terms.
Thanks to rational stereotyping, I know to pull over and hide in the nearest ditch whenever I see a woman talking on the cell phone while driving. Similarly, if a cliché sorority girl asks me to buy her a drink, I know the proper response is to call her a whore and bring her weight into question.
If you desperately want to be seen as a particular stereotype, go ahead. Just don't blame people for classifying you in an unflattering way.
Besides, if you don't like the way others perceive you, it's your job to change their minds — not force them to completely alter how they think.
Scott Burns is a 20-year-old economics junior from Baton Rouge. Follow him on Twitter @TDR_sburns.
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Contact Scott Burns at sburns@lsureveille.com