To First-Years: Don’t join Formula. Or Rocketry. Or Baja. Or any other project team.

To preface, I do not despise Formula, nor any project team for that matter. I refer to Formula throughout this article simply because they are the most clear example, but most observations are true for all project teams. I also write this opinion piece in, well, an opinionated way, but I don’t think any project team is all awful. I think they have their good qualities and their bad qualities. Their triumphs and their failures. I certainly don’t have a problem with any of the people in them—many of whom I look up to and who are my close friends—and to be fair, in my conversations with project team leaders, most of them are relatively forthcoming about the shortcomings of their teams and receptive to criticism and change. 

But there is a difference between hearing those shortcomings from someone who likes project teams and who is trying to recruit you, and hearing the shortcomings from someone who dislikes them. And for all of the very, very vocal proponents of project teams abound at this school, I find there are very few vocal opponents. 

I’ll avoid most of the common critiques as best as I can: the interpersonal conflicts and drama caused by tightening the Olin bubble even further, the weirdly obsessive and borderline manipulative recruitment of first-years, the embarrassing gender ratios, the many, many safety hazards and near disasters that project teams have caused and then shrugged off, and others that I’m sure we’ve all heard. I’ll instead focus on what I feel are the three main interconnected problems in Formula: the work culture, the trends in leadership, and the subsequent definition of engineering that it gives to its members.  

The work culture is well known, so I won’t dwell on it for long. We’ve all had friends who can’t hang out because of an “important” deadline, teammates in class projects who have missed meetings for Formula, and we have all heard of the late, sleep deprived nights, where the LPB doors are propped long after 2am. I won’t try to prove that Formula members are often if not always overworked—just ask any of them. Hell, many have bragged to me about their sleepless nights showing their “work ethic and commitment”. I’ll get to that later.

This work culture affects all in the club, but I have seen it cause the most damage in the trends of the leadership for these teams. Leads have the responsibility of coordination, mentorship, lead engineering, project managing, and countless other tasks. Many go into it with very little experience leading and get “thrown in the deep end.” In theory it’s a valid enough tactic for learning, but Formula is going into this year with no upperclassmen leadership. Upperclassmen know well that sophomore year isn’t a walk in the park, and yet the upperclassmen members are so unpassionate or checked out or burned out to step into those roles. To me, that is not a smoking gun for any failure from any specific individual in Formula, but for a much larger, systemic problem with leadership culture and trends.

It makes me sad, but it doesn’t surprise me. I’ve seen the story play out well over a dozen times now. Sophomore lead enters excited from a fun first year. They get thrown in the deep end. Classes ramp up. Stress ramps up. But they like Formula. They love the people or the project or whatever else but it just gets to be so much. They talk about it in the exact same way they would talk about a toxic relationship. And in every case, for every person I’ve seen fall by the wayside—guilty, miserable, and overworked—the last reason they won’t let go has always been feeling that they are letting the team down.

Honestly, it sometimes seems that overwhelming guilt at letting the team down is the lifeblood of what keeps people in Formula. But the guilt of leaving a club is not a reason to stay, and good friendships should hold whether they are team members or not—that is true whether you are a casual member or the project manager. You want my hot take? If any organization depends on one person to keep existing, it shouldn’t keep existing.

And all of this leads to what I have seen as the most pervasive effect of project teams: the definition of engineering it gives to its members and to the school. Because project teams’ main selling point is that, yes, they are learning mechanisms for engineering. My first year, each project team marketed itself as a different environment to learn engineering, and importantly, each one told me that I would learn more engineering with them than I would in any of my classes first year. I’ve heard this repeatedly every year since. That Formula will fast-track you on learning engineering, when you want more “engineering” than your classes provide. Which I totally get. When you’re a first-year and you are presented with going outside to draw a bug in DesNat and with building a car in Formula, one feels more engineering. 

But DesNat is an engineering class. And a good one at that. Formula feels more engineering because it matches more the conventional definition of engineering: move fast, build a car, get it to drive. But Olin’s education is not the conventional definition of engineering—we have specifically stood out as a top-ranked school because of an unconventional approach. One that puts DesNat hoppers before complex machinery analysis. That isn’t some half-thrown-together placeholder from the faculty. The entire curriculum is put together to build upon ideas and to build specifically an unconventional definition of engineering. 

But when the connotation is made in the first year that Formula is more engineering than classes, part of that buy-in is lost. That buy-in is important because it builds on itself all throughout Olin. I’ve seen a clear correlation between project team participation and generally having less buy-in for design courses like CD, for engaging in AHS concentrations, or participating in larger engineering reflections. It’s not the engineering they’re learning in their teams, so there’s less need to dedicate as much time and attention to it.

It’s not the engineering that goes on within project teams, so there’s less need to dedicate as much time and attention to it. 

And what is the engineering that supersedes the curriculum’s? What is Formula’s practiced definition of what it means to be an engineer? It is one that is defined by work and burnout. By spending sleepless nights to finish some arbitrary deadline for some arbitrary project. And that seeps into how everyone here defines engineering. I’m not denying that there is passion and learning, but an all-consuming work culture and guilt has been built into the foundation of what keeps Formula going. That anxiety—not work ethic, anxiety—affects what people perceive engineering should be. That “proper” engineering is inherently stress and late nights, and that the more stressed and overworked you are, the better an engineer you become. 

It’s a great way to get burnt out, I’ll say that much. If you keep it up after Olin, it’s a great way to get used by others. 

I’m not saying that Olin’s curriculum is perfect. While I think there’s something to be said about the difference between a learning experience crafted by Ph.D. professors versus overworked sophomore leads, Olin’s curricular definition of engineering is not perfect for anyone. That definition is something each person has to find on their own, but the activities and priorities you choose will inherently affect what engineering, work, and life all mean to you. 

I’m sure you can put any large group of Oliners together and with enough motivation—whether that motivation comes from passion or feelings of obligation or crippling stress—they’ll be able to make an electric car in a year. Or anything else they set their minds, time, bodies, and mental health to. But I also know that in that same time, they could learn and reflect about what actually makes them passionate. They could get more out of their classes, both in that time and in the future. And I know they could all still learn and demonstrate technical concepts that really interest them while still maintaining a work-life balance.

I admit that I write this from a position of bias. I’ve seen so many of my friends, my residents, my classmates delve into these project teams, work themselves to the bone, and burn out. It hurt me seeing them go through that and I knew it hurt them more. I don’t want to see it happen again, and I’ve held out hope each year that it would be the year where all the positives that these teams can bring shine and all the negatives get washed away. Those who know me know I’ve been wanting to write this article for two years now, and I’ve waited in optimism because I didn’t want to unnecessarily give any team a bad name as they were on the cusp of change. I have that same optimism this year, but I write this piece as a warning of trends that I cannot ignore.

Because I can’t take another year of standing by. Of supporting my friends as they gradually reach their breaking point, beat up and burnt out from project teams they once enjoyed. So for all the people yelling at you right now to “Join Formula! Or Rocketry! Or Baja!”, I will get up on my small soapbox here between the pages of this Frankly to shout as loud as I can: 

“DON’T join Formula! Or Rocketry! Or Baja! Or any other project team!” 

Am I biased? Sure. But I will be a vocal opponent this year. And if you’re a first-year who wants more perspectives before joining a project team, you can come find me. If you’re a sophomore in a leadership position who feels the tendrils of burnout start reaching out, you can come find me. And if you’re a junior or senior or anyone else who reads this and vehemently disagrees, you can come find me. I’ll happily talk about my observations and reflections, about where you are right and where I am decidedly wrong. But for all of the people surrounding you and declaring that project teams are the best ways to get good jobs or make friends or learn engineering, just know that you are always welcome to find me if you want to hear the opinion of someone who, frankly, doesn’t think they do a great job at really any of those things.