If Plato Went Pre-Med
February 8, 2008

As the new semester gets underway, another round of pre-med students is stressing over problem sets, yawning through early-morning lectures, and handing in unfinished lab reports.
But the spring is special, as it marks the time when many Seniors must evaluate, maybe for the first time, their prospects of seriously making it into medical school. Lots of freshmen, having botched up their first semester of science class and not finding part two to be any easier, wonder if they should pursue their high school interest in psychology or history. Certain seniors in their home-stretch discover that their favorite accredited medical schools don’t feel the same way about them, and do they really want to spend four years in the Dominican Republic’s Escuela de Medicina? It was the second semester of my sophomore year that I decided to “postpone” my med school plans until well after Tufts. Something about the long, looming summer promised lots of time for reflection.
One more pre-med down. And, well, suddenly I find myself having to answer major life questions, like what are my sincere interests? What do I stand for? What matters in life? What do I want to do for a living? The questions that most four-year college students must grapple with from their first course in political science, sociology, or philosophy, are the same stumpers that I could afford to dodge with my first course in physics, biology, or math.
What was my pre-med rationale? I want to be a doctor because I’m fascinated by the human body, because I want to promote healthcare for all, because I want to make a difference in the world, because my mentor inspired me to want to save lives…
Those may be reasons enough for medical schools, who request only one or two pages of just such contrived justification in their mandatory essay, but I think that if you can’t write a hundred-page thesis on why it is you’re doing what you’re doing for the rest of your life, then just who do you think you are, anyway?
Choosing pre-med as a freshman is not a major life decision; it’s a way to avoid making major life decisions, albeit — it’s one of the most challenging ways to avoid making major life decisions there is. It’s high on self-discipline and short on self-examination. Rich in knowledge, but poor in wisdom. If you want a short-cut to guaranteed prosperity in life — without too much thinking about life — then start the Kaplan MCAT prep alongside your high school band practice.
What’s scary is that if I were more stubborn and less reflective, I might still be taking organic chemistry. I would have missed a good chunk of the most illuminating experiences of my (half-finished) college career, including a rewarding semester abroad, liberal arts courses that have altered my perspective a hundred times over, skill-building extracurriculars, and even some stimulating late-night discussions — which I never would have stayed awake for with bio and chem midterms dogging my footsteps for four years.
I blame a medical school admissions system that forces students to start crunching as early as possible in order to tackle the heavy requirements. Pausing to take a time-out means falling irrevocably behind, unless one scrambles for summer classes, post-baccalaureate programs, and last-minute research opportunities. This disproportionately feeds for people who are positive before their 20th birthday that they want to be physicians; ready at 20 to commit ‘til 28. Except who’s positive of anything when they’re 20? Instead it feeds for the most obstinate, ambitious, and competitive among us, while weeding out lots of people who probably should be my doctor. The whole process is kind of like running for president (see insert on page 24).
I do, however, have enormous respect for those students entering medical school at a riper age. What age that is depends on the individual, but it’s almost never 22 or 23. This applies to all pre-professional students, be it law or international diplomacy, as it’s really the exceptional among us who can write that 100-page thesis earlier on in life.
Hypothetically, if one were to create a national minimum age for applying to medical schools, and set that age at 24 or 25, I predict the overall number of applicants would tank right away. Thousands of prospective medical students, faced with two years of having little to do except search for a job, travel the world, or contemplate life — essentially, making up for all that lost time during college — would discover that medicine isn’t their calling after all. Thousands more would realize with redoubled certainty and resolve that it is, and aren’t those the kinds of thoughtful, well-rounded students medical schools are really searching for?
Mike Snyder is a junior majoring in American Studies.

The author should take care to avoid generalizing his own experiences to that of all potential applicants. While not all students may know exactly what they wish to do at age 20, many do. Should deciding to be an engineering major during freshman year entail such criticism?
As for choosing medicine as a way to avoid making major life decisions, nothing could be further from the truth. A decision to prepare for and apply to medical school is no small decision and requires forethought and persistence. The pre-medical curriculum and "standard" EC's are specifically designed to weed out students who are either unprepared or uncertain. Mandating that students spend two years of their lives sitting under a tree would just cause the most driven students to lose sight of their goals and join the rat race.
In short, the author would be well-advised to take notice of the 97% graduation rate of US allopathic medical schools. Perhaps our medical students are more prepared, dedicated, and passionate than he gives them credit for.
Posted by: Medical Iowa at April 8, 2008 6:10 PM