Will Holt ‘23
Reviews Editor
Some people say the last vanished in the Great Purge of '08-09. Others contend that a few persist in the exotic, uncharted lands beyond the T14. A handful of UVA students even claim to have seen a glimpse of one, a “Type B” law student, wandering North Grounds at night, driven mad by student loan debt and amphetamines. It pains me to say that, even after conducting considerable research, we at the Virginia Law Weekly can neither verify nor falsify any of these claims; the paper simply lacks the resources to conduct such an investigation. I can, however, cut through some of the myth surrounding these unique creatures, hopefully providing some clarity as to their true nature.
The first and most important factor to remember when discussing the Type B law student is the paradox of his existence. He participates in the same academic and career-oriented activities as other law students: lectures, cite-checks, and OGI pollute his schedule to a similar degree. But unlike most other students, he suffers from base instincts that lead him to crave the freedoms and joys of a more balanced life. This does not imply that J.D. candidates of the standard-type do not long for greater liberty than law school can provide. They do indeed. Each neuron and synapse in a standard-type’s brain does not, however, fry whenever forced to process information from The Bluebook as do their analogs in the brain of a Type B student. Many law students find the building and color-coding their weekly planners to be a soothing process. A Type B doesn’t know what a planner is. To him, each day is a collection of possibilities that cannot be defined or cataloged on a single page. Most importantly, a Type B fears ambition as much as he respects it. He sees the trait as not just an extension of one’s inner drive but as a hybridization that combines such tenacity with selfish desire. As a result, sacrificing his freedom on the road to success may strike him as a Faustian bargain, not just as a cost of playing the game.
Although perhaps novel to some of my readers, the above characteristics do not represent our subject's most perplexing aspect. The existence of each and every Type B student raises a common question: why does he remain in an environment that so poorly comports with his nature? As one may expect, the potential answers to this question vary. Some possess liberal arts degrees which provide few other opportunities to earn a sizable income. Others enter law school with noble convictions and persist in their studies for reasons of altruism. A few Type Bs, although not pride-bound, draw strength from dogged determination alone.
Irrespective of his particular motivation for staying, however, a student of this Type necessarily dissociates himself from the arbitrariness and folly that is law school, or else he faces psychological collapse. As Tennyson wrote of the six hundred, “[His] not to make reply, [His] not to reason why, [His] but to do and die.” To put it bluntly, a degree of fatalism proves absolutely mandatory. One may easily confuse such resignation with the carefree attitude that defines Type B personalities in other environments. But do not be fooled, the latter mentality inevitably wilts at some point during the first semester.
Little else is known of these enigmatic beings; the records contain little insight as to where Type Bs matriculate after law school or how they perform relative to their peers. As I mentioned previously, even their numbers remain a mystery. However, I like to think—or rather I hope—that some still study amongst us. Otherwise, I fear I may be the only one.
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wjh4ew@virginia.edu