16 September: Aldrich 110

Academics at HBS is like a New York Cheesecake
The first two weeks zip past. In just seven days we've deconstructed Quaker's failed acquisition of Snapple in the late 90s, stepped into Erik Peterson's shoes (an HBS grad) as he grappled and failed at a mobile phone start-up, and chatted to Shane Inglemann, a South African with a grand vision of giving every child a "lapdesk" in the next 5 years.

On three-case days, I sometimes feel like my brain suffers from the the academic equivalent of triple vodka red bulls; the three 80-minute sessions back-to-back leave you feeling high, tired, disorientated and a little bit grouchy.

In our first week, numerous professors intoned to us about the beauty of the HBS experience and the case method. "Each case is an 80 minute marathon, and if you consider the 700+ cases that you'll do in your 2 years here, then this is a marathon of marathons". My other favourite was the onion analogy: "Each case is like an onion, on your own you will only peel off the outer layers, but in our class discussions we'll peel back the layers one at a time to get to the nub of the issue". (Of course, they didn't mention that our eyes would water in the process, or that I'd take the analogy one step further and fancy myself slicing right to the core with one of my Samurai-sharp Global knives.)

Here is an analogy that I think is much more apt: the HBS academic experience is like a good old fashioned New York cheesecake. It's well formed in appearance, but certainly not rigid. It's carefully constructed, but there is always the looming possibility that it could go awfully wrong, ending up very different from the way it was planned. When you taste it, the flavour is subtle, the texture smooth and entirely moorish. And when digesting it you realise just how rich it is (and wonder why you ate so much or how you are going to have another triple helping tomorrow).

OG to NG
The Section is at the heart of the first year of the HBS experience. The incoming class of 900 students is divided up into 10 sections of 90, each one a microcosm of the wider cohort. Initially Section G - my section - seemed like a room full of smart people sitting in a horseshoe formation, hiding behind embossed name cards, and lobbing in the odd insightful comment. Then I discovered that we are actually dazzle of statistics (representing 28 countries, speak two dozen languages, etc etc) and a bunch of remarkable, interesting, and funny individuals.

But for all the pretensions of academic high-mindedness that the section is supposed to embody, I found out on Friday that the classroom experience is much more than net present values and through-put times. For almost two hours last year's section G - the Old G - inducted the New G. I learned that section life involves section flip-cup (an American sport?) tournaments, section retreats (to discuss issues such as spirtualism, capitalism, and alcoholism), and section love (of the romantic variety I'm told). There will be ample opportunities for me to do embarrassing things (no change from usual) and for everyone to document it.

I also saw that the OG had formed an incredible bond. The shared experiences both in and out of the classroom were on display and the genuine friendships palpable. For us - the incoming and slightly lost NG - their energy and enthusiasm was utterly infections, to the point where we took it upon ourselves to get the party started on Saturday night. So, ultimately, the section experience will be as much about shaping a unique culture with its own norms, jokes, rituals and quirks, as it will be about eating cheesecake.