Defining Dartmouth’s character is a tough job. What unites the rager and recluse, mama’s boy and meathead? And if Dartmouth molds students, what are the specific experiences that do the molding?

If our school had to come up with a clear-cut set of common beliefs, it would probably begin with “I believe in beer.” For better or for worse, alcohol is the one thing that unites almost all students. More than half of eligible students enter the Greek system. The popularity of the Monday/Wednesday/Friday class schedule is in a large part due to the fact that half the campus spends Tuesdays and Thursdays recovering from previous nights out. Of course drinking is big on all campuses, but few colleges self-consciously devote so much effort to living down an Animal House legacy whose basis in actual fact is questionable to begin with. Delta house may have been an exaggeration, but its lasting impact on Dartmouth’s self-image is very much a reality.

Next to drinking, a general amiability is probably the quality the typical Dartmouth student values most. Like drinking, sociability is encouraged by the Greek system. The conventional wisdom is that the dislocations the D-plan causes force students to reach outside their comfort zones. This explanation is a bit fishy. If people’s friends are off campus one term, their social circles often tend to shrink rather than expand.

Perhaps a better explanation for the emphasis Dartmouth puts on sociability lies in the fact that, for most intents and purposes, the town of Hanover doesn’t exist. We restrict our social activities to campus. We all see much more of each other than we would if we went to, say, Columbia. It’s also hard to neglect the importance of freshman DOC Trips and big weekends like Homecoming, where socializing with everyone in sight seems to be the rule rather than the exception. For the last year or so, “awkward” has been the catch-all phrase to describe any social interaction at Dartmouth. But its use highlights the fluidity of Hanover’s social scene rather than its awkwardness. It’s so normal in Hanover for interactions to be relatively smooth that the slightest kink in conversation seems to warrant the use of the massively-abused word.

Other than beer and a general amiability, the Dartmouth student tends to define himself by what he isn’t. To begin with, most Dartmouth students aren’t pretentious. We go to school in Hanover. The greater communities of Providence and Cambridge may have small colonies of intellectuals and clusters of trendy shops; we have cows. It is difficult to wear chic, trendy clothes that stand out in any way when it’s 40 degrees below zero outside (the temperature scientifically defined as the point at which mucus freezes to the sides of your nostrils). When he needlessly speaks out in class, the overanxious freshman draws slightly bemused but nonetheless reproachful looks from upperclassmen. The environment at Dartmouth discourages overt attempts to stand out intellectually as much as it discourages dressing flamboyantly.

There’s a certain humility that comes from suffering through New Hampshire winters. We’re at the constant mercy things outside of our control: frigid weather, a constant lack of sun, campus Safety & Security. The humility that the College engenders is part of what turns the typical high school overachiever into a green-bleeding Dartmouth student.

Similarly, Dartmouth students tend not to be bookish. This isn’t to say that academics are scorned, but a look at the most beloved majors on campus offers some surprises to an outsider. The dozen or so Earth Science majors of every class are some of the most passionate people on campus. Classics is similarly loved. Majors often focus on archaeology, a subject that, like Earth Science, is inhabited by real objects you can hold in your hand rather than lofty theory. Both majors can be seen as subjects capable of offering intense immediate experiences. Research in both subjects often involves getting your hands dirty outdoors rather than peering through a microscope or leafing through a book.

English and History are also popular. But in contrast to Earth Science and Classics, they often seem to be pursued as interesting but, as acknowledged tacitly between fellow majors, ultimately frivolous paths leading to law school or banking. Dartmouth is no Socratic ideal of abstract inquiry. Part of the reason studies abroad are tremendously popular is that the average Dartmouth student tends to be interested in experiences rather than books. The Dartmouth student may not be a great translator of Catullus or master of the cello, but he tends to be an extrovert in everything he does, studies included.

Assume the typical Dartmouth student is a frequently tipsy, relatively humble extrovert of above-average intelligence. Does this description fully account for the close attachment students past and present have to the College? Well, why not? High spirits, lack of pretentiousness, amiability, and intelligence are qualities most people - Dartmouth students or not - look for in their friends. Being surrounded by such people for four year in an ivory tower sealed off from the pressures of the outside world is an ideal environment.

The chief deficit of the typical Dartmouth character is probably a lack of many meaningful convictions. Love of beer and affability may be admirable characteristics, but sadly, neither is a rule to live by. Hanover is full of liberalism, but when it comes time to adopt concrete ideas rather than a generally tolerant mindset, many students are stumped. Those students who do express strongly-held beliefs are often seen as strange anomalies—well intentioned, maybe, but to be kept at an arm’s length. Some of the conservative Christian groups on campus come to mind (Noah Riner, anyone?), as do the campus magazines on the extreme ends of the political spectrum.

The typical student has a fervent yet short-lived commitment to good causes. The Darfur campaign and the immigration rally were both popular at one point but neither cause seems to have been able to attract continued support from a large group of students. Social justice and political activism, rallying issues for many campuses, both seem to be faddish in Hanover. Lack of strongly-held beliefs may sometimes lead to a depression masked by a veneer of apparent happiness. A much-touted Princeton Review statistic claims that Dartmouth is among the twenty happiest schools in the country; a less-touted statistic is that about a thousand Dartmouth students seek counseling at Dick’s House every year. The typical Dartmouth student isn’t depressed but, as he will be the first one to tell you, his life is completely unsustainable in the long-run. A lack of a deep, underlying meaning can sometimes be a nuisance, but it rarely preoccupies him. Part of the reason he isn’t hard-pressed to find any overriding raison d’etre is not, contrary to popular belief, the ongoing debauchery in which he immerses himself (if in fact the Dartmouth student is as debauched as is frequently perceived). A more likely explanation is that often-times campus figures holding firm convictions offer zero incentive for him to dig deeper. Less-than-humble professors, convention-baiting Women and Gender Studies proponents and dogmatic religious types don’t exactly invite the type of nuanced, personal soul-searching intelligent young adults typically engage in.

Ultimately, the Dartmouth student is one bursting with energy. Other than this characteristic, the character of the typical Dartmouth student is more or less irrelevant. You fit well into the most common mold or you don’t. The intriguing thing about Dartmouth is that whatever mold you fit, whatever direction your interests point to, Dartmouth allows you to take them further. Enjoy your Italian classes? Why not spend spring term in Tuscany on Dartmouth (note: everything “on Dartmouth” is ultimately “on your parents”)? Have an interest in studio art and rural Chilean architecture? Get funding from Dartmouth to fly to Chile, win a Senior Fellowship, and skip out on classes senior year to draw rural Chilean huts. If that’s up your alley.

Dartmouth provides hordes of out-going friends to choose from. But on an individual level, the school allows students to develop their own personalities to their extremes. The hiker goes on to scale a gigantic mountain in Southeast Asia during his off term; the track and field standout becomes an Olympic decathlete; and yes, it’s hard to deny it, the heavy drinker becomes even ragier than you thought possible. So don’t worry if the beer-guzzling, gregarious Dartmouth stereotype isn’t for you: it’s this hodgepodge collection of standouts that makes Hanover such a rich environment to spend four years in.