There is a long-standing commitment to a diversified education at UC Berkeley. As such, the pride of the College of Letters and Science is its seven-course breadth requirement. Though the “seven-course breadth” may make these courses sound particular and special to UC Berkeley, it is no more than a euphemism for what most schools refer to as “general education” classes. Nonetheless, both these programs work toward the same goal: encouraging students to broaden their interests and expand their fields of study, regardless of whether they actually pursue any of these extra subjects. In other words, they both work toward guaranteeing a liberal arts education.

The breadth I most dreaded was the biological science requirement. I had succeeded in high school when it came to the sciences, but I knew that I couldn’t manage the workload required of lengthy technical classes at UC Berkeley without constantly questioning my reasons for taking the class. The theoretical aspect of the sciences, however, was always interesting to me just because I enjoyed thinking about all the different outcomes of reactions or evolutionary processes without having to work out the mechanics. So when I was considering classes for the biological science breadth, I was torn between choosing a class like biology or chemistry, in which I would surely be miserable but might learn more, or choosing a class like Nutritional Sciences 10, the large introductory course held in Wheeler auditorium that was geared for students who either wanted a degree in nutritional sciences or wanted to practically ignore the challenge of the biological science breadth.

Imagining that my success at this school required a smart plan that eliminated challenging opportunities in support of strategic ones, I decided that the nutritional science class would be perfect for me. The class is rumored to be an easy “A,” so I thought this would give me an opportunity to knock out another one of the seven breadths with flying colors and thus be one step closer to graduating. At the time, I was also deeply invested in applying to Haas School of Business and matching its strict GPA requirements, so any grade I received was of the utmost importance to my overall life plan. Haas is not special for encouraging the path of least resistance at UC Berkeley; most plans encouraged by the school tend to encourage us toward one definable goal that is efficient and worthwhile, regardless of what is left behind in the process.

So I took the nutritional science course, throwing away any other opportunities for my scientific education here. As a student at UC Berkeley, it’s hard to see the practicality of any of these classes if they aren’t directly a part of our degree or career path. We’re already buried in the thousands of opportunities offered here, so wasting any unit on a course that may not be in our best interest when there are hundreds of other classes and organizations directed specifically toward our interests, feels insulting to the institution. The enormous size of the school makes it hard to believe that exploring these seven breadths in depth might actually yield fruitful benefits. Exploring any one breadth with conviction needs the same effort as committing to a major.

Being a part of the College of Letters and Science at UC Berkeley doesn’t guarantee a typical liberal arts education (though it claims to) that a small private college might offer: personalized administrator-student relationships, focused but broad discussions in intersectional fields and a sense of common interests. That’s part of the reason why students come here — to engage immediately with their field of study and break ground quickly. There’s some consolation to students who want a typical liberal arts degree, however — an interdisciplinary major offered for interested students. But then how often do you meet a student majoring in interdisciplinary studies? Or hear about the opportunity to essentially create your own major? The College of Letters and Science guarantees enough time for students to make their own decision after supposedly exploring the different subject matters of the school, but it does not do justice to the expansive world of scholastics actually offered here. Instead, we spend our time scratching the surface of subjects to which our own faculty contribute considerably. Many of our departments are the best in their fields and yet the process of choosing classes for our diversified education usually boils down to the ease of the class and whether our friends are taking it.

I wish I had felt comfortable to have taken a real science class or a solid philosophy course, but instead I felt pressured to follow a schedule that would let me do well at this competitive institution without the extra stress of a liberal education. Some students really enjoy the variety offered in the College of Letters and Science because it actually changes their entire way of thinking. While this is fantastic, it’s hard to deny that even this life-changing moment might require dropping commitment to a separate field for the new path. The seven-course breadth requirement is a good idea, but put into practice at UC Berkeley, it falls from its idealistic origins.

Parker Kjellin-Elder writes the Friday blog on contemplating contradictions at Cal. Contact him at [email protected].