One of last year’s most fashionable words was solidarity, and though it isn’t showing up on as many posters and event invitations as it once did, it’s still a principle that organizers use to attempt to mobilize large numbers of students.We love the idea of engaging in “something bigger than ourselves,” the thrill of allowing our herd mentality to stampede. Why, then, do we foster competition as a catalyst for participation? Why do we so heavily emphasize unrelated rewards for things that should be rewards unto themselves?

After phone banking for Measure E, I received a message from club organizers in the De Anza Associated Student Body asking me to ‘donate’ my volunteering hours to a club of my choice in an inter-club competition for office supplies. I have yet to donate my hours.

How do hours of mine translate into office supplies? If I volunteer a bunch of hours, my club will stand a better chance of having posters. Sweet! But now my opportunity to do something to participate in the political process has turned into a competition for something material.

Clubs at Club Day offer sweets and foods to make folks come over, and crowds of people react by coming by to feign interest, only to nab a snack. Shouldn’t the opportunity to glean insight or introduction to a group of people with similar interests be enough to tempt a bystander to become a participant?

The most common form of incentivizing is the coveted extra credit – but here, I would be on very thin ice to criticize a practice that I regularly take advantage of. I certainly wouldn’t suggest that there’s anything wrong with teachers who encourage their students to actually take the time to pursue something they might have otherwise considered, but not done. Rather, I’d suggest that maybe it’s our job as students to reconsider the merit of all the opportunities we’re missing behind the comforting flicker of our computer screens.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for office supplies for clubs to plaster campus with, I completely support the opportunity for a hapless student to rescue his or her grade, and there’s no arguing the fact that I have a sweet tooth. And it’s not even necessarily a bad thing for organizers to tempt us into altruism or participation with free things – that’s good marketing. But our dependence on superficial rewards to encourage inherently valuable acts is alarmingly telling of our lack of faith in each other.

Each one of us needs to decide for ourselves whether or not we value solidarity in the college community. If we’re truly dedicated to making good things happen for this community through teamwork and civic engagement, instead of asking, “what’s in it for me?” we need to start asking, “what’s in it for all of us?” Either way, I’m pretty certain there’s much more in it for you if you commit than if you quit.