In Sorkin's The Social Network, it's all business all the time for the poor drones at Harvard

I went to Harvard. And I don't recognize the Harvard depicted in Aaron Sorkin's The Social Network. And as the final half hour of this deeply disturbing film unfolded I found myself hoping (praying?) that Sorkin had simply got it wrong yet fearing the worst: wondering if, perhaps, in the 20+ years since I left the place, its fundamental DNA had changed so much.

The Harvard I remember prided itself on eschewing fraternities. Sure, there were the final clubs, but most people I knew made fun of them... a stodgy throwback to the days of the Rockefellers and Vanderbilts. Even those few I knew who were members, felt compelled to talk about them with tongue firmly planted in cheek. More often than not, membership in a final club was grudgingly endured as a favor to a father or an uncle who had fond memories and deep pockets. Or that's how I remember it. Maybe I was hopelessly naive?

The kids in Sorkin's universe are already deeply status conscious. So much so that, like overbearing neurotic Manhattanite parents vying for a spot in the perfect preschool, they seem wholly consumed by a noxious mix of fear and ambition. They all behave as though the keys to the kingdom lie in the connections they will or will not make here in Harvard Yard.

My memory of the school is more chaotic and random. Sure, there were a few socialites and snobs, but like the real world, they were a minority in a universe that took great pains to judge young men and women on the fruits of their labor rather than on their lineage.

The Harvard I remember was a place that encouraged academic and extracurricular experimentation. A place that encouraged undergraduates to fully exploit the advantages of a Liberal Arts education. It was a universe in which the scientist was applauded for taking a Music Appreciation course and a professor who could make a Literature major experience the thrill of a mathematical proof was considered a genius and we all flocked to take his or her course.

I had taught at Harvard while still a student there and continued to do so for a couple years after graduation. Then, while a grad student, I taught undergrads at nearby Brandeis University. I do remember feeling a pang of sadness when for the very first time, I encountered students more interested in the way a particular grade or credit might affect their prospects in a given career choice than the here and now of learning for learning's sake. At the time I wondered if I might be witnessing up close a subtle shift happening in our culture, as over-achieving Baby Boomers became parents of college students and transferred their own feelings of inadequacy to their children.

I don't know. Any teachers reading this, I'd love to hear what you all think. I do hope Sorkin got this wrong. For all our sakes. Because the characters brought to life in vivid detail in The Social Network carry a deep deep sadness everywhere they go, so much so that it feels almost inescapable.