When I visited Stanford as a prospective freshman, my first impression of Stanford students was that they acted just like the kids in my high school, except they had fewer responsibilities, no adult supervision and lots of disposable income. Four years here has done little to change that impression.

The function of college is ostensibly to acquire an education. For those intending to work in certain fields, such as academia or engineering, college might be necessary. I am even willing to stipulate that, for the rest of us, learning how to speak and write about Foucault or the Argentinean monetary crisis might be of some use in developing our intellectual capabilities.

But for all except the most hard-working of my classmates, acquiring that education fills perhaps fifteen hours a week in class and another fifteen in coursework. The rest of our time is spectacularly free, especially since we are not burdened with the minutiae of daily living, such as mortgage payments, commuting, housework, cooking and the like. To a large extent, this unconstrained country-club life is exactly what we pay for.

There are many other ways to get a college education. In this nation there are hundreds of thousands of commuter students, night-school students and students who are paying for every college credit by waiting tables. And if an education was truly what college was about, these are the ways everyone should go to school. But what Stanford is offering is not just an education, it is a lifestyle.

We have at Stanford the “traditional” college experience, where idleness is not only tolerated but expected. Parties, casual sex and abuse of alcohol are seen as rites of passage. More conscientious students may fritter away their time in other, less harmful activities, like exercise, reading or hours spent gazing at a television or computer screen. No matter what you choose to do, copious amounts of leisure are inherent in the Stanford way of life.

The University encourages immaturity. It has created an environment where there are no consequences for many sorts of misbehavior. It has invested time and money in new ways to hold the hands of their fledgling students, including undergraduate advisors, writing tutors, oral communications tutors, internship counselors and even people to help you fill out your grant applications.

While I personally enjoy the cushy life I have here, I don’t really see what good comes from bestowing it upon adolescents. Why do parents actually pay for this? Why do some families shell out hundreds of thousands of dollars so their kids can be free of adult concerns for four years?

They must know what their kids are doing. The college experience has been essentially unchanged, save for the drug of choice, since the 60s. Are they merely victims of a society that considers a four year degree from a top private school as an essential qualification for professional work?

But why is this lifestyle seen as so necessary? Is there some sort of benefit to it that escapes me? Maybe this safe environment allows us to practice being independent, so we don’t screw up as badly when we enter the real world, where there are consequences for our actions. But, looking around, I doubt that’s true. My classmates and I seem just as helpless when it comes to applying for jobs, controlling our finances and managing our lives, as we were freshman year.

Perhaps the prodigious waste involved in going to Stanford is the point. If expensive cars and clothes can buy you respect, maybe an expensive degree can as well. Maybe being able to spend a few years in leisure is a stamp of good breeding, an acknowledgment that it’s passe to work too hard.

Rahul Kanakia is applying for jobs that will let him wake up at 1 p.m. Email him at rahkan "at" stanford.edu.