A few years ago, I worked at a restaurant as a hostess where we were required to abide by a dress code. The dress code in and of itself was pretty standard: According to our training manual, as long as we wore all black and we weren’t dressed sloppily or showing too much skin, we were fine. But there were a few instances that made it clear that this code was a little more complex – and, in some ways, sexist – than that.

For example, when a coworker of mine came in dressed in her usual semi-professional attire, but wasn’t wearing any make-up, my boss came up to me and said, “Tell her to put a little eyeliner on, will you? She’s scaring away all the customers.” It threw me off, to say the least. She must be joking, I thought, but when my boss added that she couldn’t tell my co-worker herself because it might end up being an issue, I realized how serious she was.

It wasn’t just the one instance (nor was it just the one job) where I was witness to companies telling their female staff that looking pretty was an inherent part of their job. At the same restaurant, a bartender was sent home for not spending enough time on her hair, which, apart from this one occasion where she left it naturally curly, was always flat-ironed straight. At another job, my boss told me flat out that I got hired because he and my other managers thought I was hot. And at yet another job, female employees were advised that the prettier we looked, the more products we were likely to sell. “But don’t quote me on that,” joked my boss. Oops.

Now, it could be that I am somehow magnetically attracted to slimy, sexist jobs. But I’m willing to bet that this kind of treatment of female employees is a lot more common than we might be inclined to believe. I know countless other women who have had similar experiences at all kinds of jobs which seems to me to be indicative of a common thread — that is, that the attractiveness of female employees outweighs their professionalism or abilities to do their job.

What’s even more alarming about this is that, in my experience, employers freely acknowledge their sexist behavior. It’s more of a joke than anything, even to female employers. They know that legally they aren’t supposed to be advising employees on how to make themselves look more attractive — but we all know that sex sells, so what’s the harm?

Well, the harm is that maintaining this kind of appearance costs time and money. Furthermore, not all employees are held to the same standards. Never once have I seen, or heard, about male employees being told to put on more makeup or spend a little bit more time doing their hair. This double standard implies that the worth of a female employee depends far more on their appearance than a male employee’s does.

It’s understandable, on some level, for employers to require their staff to maintain a certain type of appearance. But when these standards place more emphasis on looking attractive than they do on looking professional, then there’s a problem. I’d like to believe that when I go to work, I’m judged on my performance rather than on my looks, but according to some of the dress codes that are put in place, this might not be the case.

To spill your own dress code horror stories, email ctspiller@ucdavis.edu.

Taylor Swift’s 1989 is 2014’s first platinum certified selling album, and likely to be the only one.

For an album to be platinum certified by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), a label must sell at least one million digital and/or physical units of an album. Know-it-all economic pundits often use RIAA certifications as symptoms to diagnose the future of the music industry. Chances of survival are low. Music’s ever-increasing accessibility is contributing to the death of the album, and as a result, the music industry as we know it.

Streaming services like Spotify and Pandora are often accused of being culprits for the death of the music industry. According to a highly sensationalist article by Forbes aptly titled “Why Taylor Swift’s 1989 Could Be the Last Platinum-Selling Album Ever,” young people are the core consumer of the music industry. Hardly any teenager buys CDs anymore, as modern technology abandons them. The convenience of digital records is a hindrance for preteens; purchasing digital albums with a credit card requires parent permission, which stifles the freedom preteens have in selecting the music they want to buy. There’s nowhere left to turn to, except for streaming services, which are both legal and free. They don’t pay quite the same as record sales, however. According to a 2013 report, Spotify reportedly pays an artist $.006 per stream of a song. 166 plays earns one dollar. I love music, but I have listened to very few songs over 160 times; pangs of guilt crush me knowing I would make Portishead a grand $1.13 with my 189 plays of “Machine Gun.”

But then I realize that there’s no reason to feel guilty. Music culture is the same as it has ever been. It’s just taking on a new context in the digital age. The spirit of letting your best friend borrow a piece of vinyl to play on your parents’ turntable is still alive. It’s why people often feel compelled to share playlists or songs on Facebook statuses, burn mixtapes/mix CDs for friends to play in the car or just pass their earbuds over. I find a lot of joy in buying used CDs, which is basically music sharing at a corporate level. I am fully aware that the artist receives no money from that transaction. I support the record store, because I want it to remain a conduit to music purveyors for as long as it possibly can.

The music industry is dying; so what? The RIAA and what pundits/rock’n’roll has-beens say are wholly irrelevant to the spirit of music. They say it’s difficult to make a living. Difficult, at least, by the obsolete music industry standards doomsayers use to condemn the music industry to its inevitable grave.

One of the most rebelliously wise women in music, Amanda Palmer, launched a wildly successful Kickstarter campaign to fund recording, packaging, releasing, promoting and touring of a new album, without the help of an oppressive major record label. Palmer exclaims, “We’re being shown proof-positive that it just isn’t necessary anymore.” In a later TED talk, she urges the music industry to think about how to let people pay for music, as opposed to making them. Another artist, Vienna Teng, raised over 400% of her $20,000 goal for a new music video.

The future of music may be shaky. But with artists like Amanda Palmer, Vienna Teng, other courageous musicians (Frankie Cosmos, Moses Sumney) and anti-industry organizations (CDBaby, BandCamp) braving the waters of DIY artistry – trusting the people to directly help preserve the integrity of their art – it’s hard not to be excited.

Is it idealistic to think that one day, money will be second to art? Probably. But look and see that it’s possible that the number-crunching materialism of industry is slowly giving way to what really matters in music: music.

In my 11 years of reading Calvin and Hobbes, I would like to think that I have developed an understanding of Calvin’s character. Not only does the strip provide a poignant commentary on education, but it provides a personality that is remarkably befitting of many stages of life, from childhood to adolescence, and beyond. As such, Calvin displays many of the qualities of a college student. We can analyze his personality to determine why students may struggle or succeed in their educational careers.

The strip above displays a common phenomenon. A student demanding a lot from their institution, but perhaps is unwilling to work hard. Like Calvin, many students today harbor cynical attitudes toward the way they are educated. Part of the reason may be that schooling prior to college is seen largely as a burden, with boring lessons and distasteful structure.

A lot of students may feel marginalized, especially in a large university like UC Davis. And when this marginalization occurs, people tend to look inward. One of Calvin’s most prolific traits is his superiority complex. I would not be surprised to find larger universities harboring a bunch of Calvins to this respect. When connecting with others (faculty, friends, advisors) becomes harder, people naturally act like their own beliefs and opinions are final. Presented with such a mass of people, it can be destabilizing not to think that you are separate in some way from everybody else.

A superiority complex, which is inherently narcissistic, never helps anybody learn. Part of the challenge of higher education is finding a group of peers who will properly criticize your work. One trait of narcissism is wanting success for yourself at the hazard of others. The hazard in education may be improper feedback. It’s a vicious cycle. The narcissist wants approval from others, so he gives shoddy feedback to his peer, and in return, the peer has an inflated sense of how good his own work is.

Calvin’s desire to be handed opportunity and skills for a “tough, global economy” suggests he is aware of the challenges that await him. Today’s college students have a similar awareness, and demand the tools to compete as well. What these tools specifically are is frustratingly ambiguous. In past columns, we’ve discussed how a college degree, in general, can be seen as a necessary tool in the job market, and how high critical thinking skills reflect positive economic signals. These are both tools we expect the institution to foster. But what about Ms. Wormwood’s opinion? What if the greatest tool is the student’s work ethic and attitude?

Many workers in the job market say that the degree they earned in college has hardly affected their occupation. I sometimes joke that my father is a real estate agent because he majored in sociology. These changes can dishearten many people, who envisioned themselves at the top of their field of study. It takes a certain mindset to be able to pivot from your first choice to something you don’t immediately find appeal in.

Students must apply this mindset to their studies. We cannot simultaneously demand skills and not work hard. Most students understand this in theory, but act on it in counterproductive ways. In a society replete with technology, many students are entirely aware of distraction, but fail to do anything about it. Our education is starting to be presented in the same formats as our entertainment, blurring the lines between study and pleasure. A student will read an academic paper on the same device they use to listen to music. The addictive, instantly gratifying qualities of social media are at odds with the slow process of learning. Like Calvin, students begin to feel disillusioned; they feel that they may not in fact be getting their money’s worth (whether they do or not is irrelevant here).

What is important is a sense of self-awareness that accounts for potential traits like narcissism. This type of awareness is one of Calvin’s defining characteristics. It helps to know how we may be contradicting ourselves, so we can make positive changes. Ms. Wormwood expects Calvin to try harder in school, but what she would probably really love is for him to first have his own reason to change. I suspect this reason may be why self-aware people are stereotypically depressed. They know they need to change, but they don’t, and it hurts.

What this discussion amounts to is the need for personality overhauls. Students need to find out what they value, and pursue it in a way that does not compromise their visions and desires. It seems obvious to say, but the most important player in education is the student. If they’re not diligent in the way they pull their end, very little learning will occur.

To diagnose ELI FLESCH’s personality type, you can reach him at ekflesch@ucdavis.edu or tweet him @eliflesch.

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