Board Games or Drinking Games? Why we need to stop judging how others have fun

Cecilia Vicente-Fernandez takes on the Cambridge ‘cliques’

Colleges, exclusive societies, and a very small town. It seems that Cambridge is the perfect recipe for breeding an environment of cliquiness as small, select groups inevitably form and those who don’t fit into them are undeniably left out. I have found that one of the biggest divides in this university, however, is not between these small groups, but between two very large groups: people who enjoy going out, and those who don’t. It seems that everyone who attends this university can belong to one group or the other. Both might have close friendships, fulfilling interests, and busy social lives, yet one risks being labelled as antisocial while the other might be dismissed as someone who cares more about going out than their degree. 

As a rigorously academic institution, Cambridge has been accused of attracting a certain type of person. Your typical ‘nerd’ who lives with their nose in a book and never leaves their room because to do so would mean to stop studying. Essentially, when it comes to stereotyping, ‘academic’ and ‘antisocial’ often come hand in hand, but, as usual, stereotype does not reflect reality and easily becomes caricature. Just because someone does not drink, attend college bops or Wednesday Mash (RIP Revs) does not mean they are inherently antisocial. Enjoying a  film night or quiet dinner with friends does not make someone any less sociable than if they were to prefer a club night – friendships are made and developed through shared interests and hobbies, no matter what they may be. There is a crucial difference between not wanting to participate in certain activities and not wanting to connect with other people.

But if the academic stereotype unfairly characterises students who stay in, the reverse stereotype is just as misleading. In an environment as intense as Cambridge with lots of stress and deadlines to meet, we shouldn’t judge the different ways in which people choose to blow off steam. Some people may relax at the end of a week by pulling up to a pub trip, college bop or a Sunday Kiki’s. This is not evidence of excessive drinking or a lack of academic seriousness – sometimes it is just a bit of fun and people shouldn’t have to justify enjoying themselves. If academic ambition and a lively social life are not mutually exclusive, then perhaps the real issue is not ‘cliquiness’ but rather the university politics of belonging and the way in which we turn these different preferences into competing identities.

The Cam Uni Memes Instagram account often includes posts asking where the best places to “make new friends and party in Cambridge” are. On the converse side, one Camfess post vulnerably admitted to not feeling “connected to anyone” because their friends’ idea of fun is “drinking lots every week and that’s it”. Although undeniably opposite problems, what connects these two perspectives  is a search for community – one experience does not invalidate the other, especially as both seem to be looking for the same sense of belonging, just in completely different places. Perhaps, then, the issue with the Cambridge clique ‘problem’ is the lack of overlap between the many types of people who attend this university.

One of the strengths of Cambridge is the great amount of choice presented to us. What is remarkable about this university is the immense diversity of people that it attracts in terms of hobbies and interests, and consequently the vast variety of societies and activities that are organised throughout the terms for anyone to partake in. What this means is that there is no single correct way to experience the university, but rather that one’s experience is greatly shaped by their individuality and personal interests. The problem arises in the fact that having so many options at our disposal does not automatically create a welcoming social environment as it is very easy to become entrenched in our existing groups and assume that we will not get along with people with different interests. Subsequently, we tend to rely on the same familiar social settings to meet new people, leading to the current opposition between going out and staying in. Therefore, the problem does not seem to be cliques or that we have varying ideas of fun, but rather the assumption that such differences mean we have nothing in common.

In using labels such as ‘people who leave their rooms’, we essentially create an ‘us’ versus ‘them’ dichotomy that feeds into the clique scene of this university, and is fundamentally untrue; we all leave our rooms, we just move in different circles. We are confusing the absence of one type of social activity with the absence of a social life altogether. Nobody should have to defend a quiet night in or an active (for Cambridge) night out. There is no correct way to enjoy university life, and, after all, the beauty of Cambridge is that it encompasses the entire spectrum of social activities and socialisation, so whether you’re into board games or drinking games, there will always be a place for you if you seek it. We don’t need to agree on what makes a good night, maybe we simply need to stop assuming that someone else’s idea of fun makes them any less worth knowing.