The parallels are suggestive. Parents have wondered about the ever-longer “orientations” their 18-year-olds go through at the start of their college journey. It often starts at check-in with a love bomb from aggressively friendly student volunteers. (These “peer assistants” somehow recognized my daughter, screamed out her name, and started applauding even before we’d parked our vehicle at her freshman dorm.) Soon thereafter, students are separated from their families, who are told, “It’s time to say good-bye.” They are assigned spartan living quarters, to be shared in many cases with complete strangers. From there, students are put through a ringer of immersive, morning-to-night activities for as long as a week. Free time is limited. Sleep deprivation is common. There are lots and lots of speeches. This transition partly takes place in small groups, carefully organized by the administrators who guide students through their acclimation. Here they learn new rules (in particular, about things you should and should not say). Discussions might simply be quirky or awkward (“What’s your spirit animal?”), though they may veer into more intrusive territory by encouraging students to talk about their sexual preferences. Some activities attempt to create an artificial bond, while others divide and induce shame in ways that a neutral observer might consider to be hazing.

Precious little of this busyness has to do with academics, to the chagrin of most faculty. Honor codes at many schools are now supplemented by more comprehensive pledges to conduct oneself as a good “citizen,” as spelled out in “community standards” covenants.

Compliance is maintained through a system of bureaucratic and curricular sticks and carrots, nudges, and social pressure. Welcome-week orientations have expanded into semester- or year-long “first-year seminars.” These are largely devoid of academic content and taught by staff who curate a “first-year experience,” with required attendance at lectures outside of class time on topics that reinforce the relentless messaging.

[If it’s not a cult in itself, it provides service to cults, which is just as bad. But yes, the parallels here are striking. — Ed]