There was something seductive about his philosophy. He told me he didn’t care much for a formal education, that his time could be better spent elsewhere, that he was here to get in and get out.

This was a National Merit Scholar speaking, telling me of his newfound existence – one that involved achieving only the necessary academic standards.

“If I pass my classes and still have my scholarship, I’m cool.”

To him, academic excellence was a thing of the past, a 4.0 a naïve ideal we pursued in high school.

“I’m never going to use all this anyway,” he said as he surfed Reddit in class next to me.

I glanced at the cat meme on his laptop and pondered when that would come in handy in his future career. The irony of it all made we want to write it down immediately.

The attitude some of my most intelligent friends have taken towards education disheartens me. I regularly hear the most convincing arguments made for academic apathy. These conversations typically end with the question: “Why do you care so much about school anyway?”

I’ve always thought the answer was obvious. This is a university. More than anything else, we are here to educate ourselves. The bizarre part of it is that I have to remind myself of this. What has college done to my peers to so utterly convince them that trying in school no longer matters?

“The system is broken, dude,” another one said to me yesterday.

He graduated as the valedictorian of his high school class, came in with a full-ride scholarship, and there he sat, listing his grievances with the four-year degree.

“I’m content with mediocre grades if I can work on more personal projects.”

For many of my friends, a university education distances them from their goals and interests. The hotshot programmer who’s been programming since grade school sits in the back of class, bored by the theoretical material. The student who makes a video game each month loathes the software engineering class required by our major. The pre-med student finds most her biology classes “useless memorization” and yet scored a 36 on her MCAT.

Has academia deluded us into believing that what we are learning is actually useful? Is it time to blame the game and not the player? Not just yet.

Granted, the situation is tragic. It’s true that I cannot pinpoint exactly how I will use the collection of courses required of me to graduate in my future occupation, but this is far from an excuse to stop giving my best.

The four-year degree isn’t a one-size-fits-all package. A bachelor’s degree is about breadth, not depth. You mold with it with your own hands. It is worth what you put into it.

Doing well in school is important if you want to teach one day, do research or go on to graduate school. But on the contrary, there’s no denying that we will learn things we don’t “need” and will likely never use again. Some of us will continue to stare at the ceiling on countless occasions in lectures.

Many of us will leave and never look back. I have my utmost sympathy for these souls. In my time here, I’ve seen the brightest people become zombies in class. This is what a forced education can do to some.

I’ve always been a proponent of “active” learning – that we cannot expect to be taught, but rather we must teach ourselves – but to cynics, those who question the validity of the formal education process as a whole, my words mean nothing.

“These trivial assignments inhibit creativity,” they say, and with that, they cease to care altogether.

In these four years, we will do many things that feel more like labor than education. I’ve taken several classes that felt as such. But for God’s sake, try a little.

Take something away from every experience no matter how frivolous it feels. I know that it may feel like the things you are learning are insignificant, but give it time. Learning is retrospective.

If I have not yet made my point clear, let me. Appreciating education takes patience. We will not be able to immediately pinpoint the benefit of many things we are learning. The most practical approach to this is not apathy.

Take away as much as you can, and leave the rest to faith.

Tarif Haque is a sophomore majoring in computer science. His column runs biweekly on Thursdays.

Leading in today’s Crimson White:

[Letter to the Editor] It’s time to recognize pervasive problem of HIV/AIDS in this country’s women

[Letter to the Editor] Reflection on our Civil Rights past should inform future decision on LGBTQ

NCAA tournament kicks off March Madness, provides interesting matchups