At times, it can feel as if the vast majority of the student body at Cambridge consists of committees. Elections are taking place at the moment, most conspicuously for CUSU and college JCRs. Within every society – from the Marlowe Society to the CUTAZZ Dance Society – applications are being stressed over and decisions are being made as committees are assembled.

The CUSU website shows that in the last fortnight alone, 21 such ballots have taken place, including the election of committees for the Cambridge Farm Animal Veterinary Society, the Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic Society, and the Malaysia and Singapore Association.

The question, then, is whether these committees have real value, or whether they are simply symptomatic of a student body that revels in over-organisation, taking recreational activities too seriously and creating corporate structures of hierarchy. The processes of application or campaigning, followed by a year of meetings, emails and bureaucracy begins to feel more like a full-time ‘adult’ job than a break from the stress of Cambridge academia.

But year after year the positions are refilled as the institutions tick on. Is the problem a lack of imagination to look beyond the traditional systems of our immediate predecessors, or do we derive self-satisfaction or validation from feeling as if our extracurricular activities are in some sense ‘official’ and, as such, worth our time? And to what extent do people apply for committee positions as a CV-filler, keeping their mind on the end goal of their dream job?

Of course, many of these committee positions are indispensable, with post holders making massive contributions to improve and ensure the continuance of student life in Cambridge in all its diverse forms. There are so many examples I could give of genuinely effective and useful changes instigated by committees over the past term, and there are a huge number of fantastic individuals who are just very good at doing their jobs and being ready to help. One need only look to May Balls to see the marvellous work an ambitious committee can achieve.

Because of the dedication this requires, committees can become a means of forging identity and creating a sense of belonging. Before we came to Cambridge, so many of us found that our ‘thing’ was being clever, and a character of sorts would be built up around our intelligence as a defining feature.

Bringing together some of the most academically-gifted students from across the country means that, apart from in the case of really exceptional individuals, you cannot define yourself as someone who is clever. This means many students look to extra-curricular activities, quite self-consciously choosing to become a thesp, a boatie or a union hack in order to create an identity. Becoming a committee member is a further step to assert this, as you are assigned an official title.

This strong sense of identity and formal structure can feel quite alienating to those on the outside. Several of my friends have expressed interest in getting involved in various activities at Cambridge, but have felt intimidated by the seriousness with which they are approached. Committees themselves can become quite insular, as too often the majority of the interest in their work comes from inside the committee, not the wider student population. They can get bogged down in the self-referential, with seemingly unending constitutional changes and AGMs rather than real change perceivable to the outside observer.

CUSU can perhaps be seen as an extreme manifestation of this. Very few people I know intend to vote in the upcoming elections or have followed the campaign. And yet, the problem does not seem to be apathy: there is not a lack of opinions among the student body. This year’s candidates make a range of pledges which, if effected, could dramatically alter undergraduate life – the election is not irrelevant.

The problem, then, seems to be many students’ overriding sensation of it not being their place to get involved. When I was discussing Clare’s recent referendum on de-gendering the welfare officers with fellow college members, many of them expressed displeasure at the result, beginning sentences with ‘if I’d have voted, I wouldn’t have voted for…’ Everyone had slightly different, nuanced opinions, and yet had steered clear of the actual vote.

The point seems to be that it can be easy to fall into an identity at Cambridge, but we should take care to not let this prevent our engagement with other areas of student life that matter to us. Committees, too, should be careful to not become so self-preoccupied that they cease to engage with the wider student body.

While all the enthusiasm, professionalism and sheer keenness we see manifested in committees across Cambridge has many, many positives (not least in their impressive outputs), this can lead to a fragmentation or disjointedness among undergraduates, as the rigidity of the structures and the devotion they require creates a sense of exclusivity.