James Thomas says that medical students can be subdivided into distinct groups. Here he describes the simple classification system

Observation is always the first step in any medical encounter and it would perhaps be wise to begin by looking at ourselves as practice. For the vast majority of us, medical school is a time of intense personal development. We arrive, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and leave five years later, the sheen on our minds sandpapered down to something duller and coarser. But in the first year, before the system has shaped us into dead eyed clones reciting lists and addicted to caffeine, medical students in whatever part of the country can be consistently subdivided into several distinct groups. Here then, to aid you in your long minutes of people watching between lectures, is the spotter's guide to medical students.

These gentle folk can be seen sitting at the front of the lecture hall, enraptured by every word, however dull, and outwardly appreciating the most banal of jokes. Mature students can easily be spotted in a crowd--the disdainful glances, the aged features, and the stooping self awareness are instantly recognisable. Keeping themselves mostly to themselves, they tend to be alienated further by doing disgusting, unnatural things such as wearing clean clothes and eating proper food. By nightfall, they retreat to their flats and houses, where dinner parties and other acts of depravity are conducted.

Interesting fact: 95% of mature students are bald, many disguising the fact with a complex array of mirrors.

They've seen it; they've done it; but they didn't get a T shirt because they don't have those there. This select group claim to have been where no man has gone before. They've wrestled snakes, they've drunk their own urine, they've eaten their own thighs just for the protein, and they've built fully equipped 10 floor hospitals using only straw and camel dung. What's more, they won't miss a single opportunity to tell you all about it. Easily identified by the khaki trousers and Indiana Jones style whip, they are capable of boring a fully grown elephant to death in less than two sentences. Happily, a few months after arriving at medical school, the fever passes and they return to normality. In the meantime, approach with caution.

Interesting fact: most year out students have in fact spent 12 months in their bedroom with a jungle sounds CD and a potted fern.

Something about their stride suggests a confidence that the common folk will never quite be able to attain. They even drink coffee in a "you can't stop me--my father's quite well known" kind of way. This group tend to be taller than the average student through a combination of appropriate nourishment, inbreeding, and the rack that their parents stretched them out on whenever they achieved less than an A grade. If ever there is any trouble or poor marks in an exam, their parents will simply visit the dean, conduct various secret handshakes and rounds of golf, and the matter will be behind them. These medics are able, then, to exude a casualness bordering on the downright sloppy. Despite this, you have nothing to fear from these people and they should be welcomed into your inner circle, especially when it's time to get the drinks in.

Interesting fact: the importance of the parent is directly proportional to the scruffiness of the student. The children of most professors are, in fact, no more than untucked shirts.

You'll be lucky to spot one of these hard working students. There have, however, been several sightings in recent years, which has confirmed their existence. If you position yourself directly on the path between the lecture theatre and the library, you may--with the aid of a high-speed camera--be able to see these, shorter than average, students as they hurry by, books in hand, heads down, talking furiously to each other. Care needs to be taken as they will stop for nothing and no one. Careless students have made the mistake of stepping into the path of a scurrying bookworm and suffered severe injuries to their knees as they were swept off balance.

Interesting fact: many of the books carried are in fact secret plans for taking over the world, involving sensible shoes and diet Coke.

These are the guys and gals that run Medsoc or similar societies. They organise the booze ups, bowling, and bingo. On arriving at medical school, they somehow attract each other and coalesce into an amorphous blob called something like "Rod" or "Kat." Mostly blonde, they bounce and flounce through the corridors and concourses of the medical school, happy in the knowledge that they're part of The Gang. Most are involved in the various sports teams and advertise the fact by wearing tops emblazoned with the team name and an "amusing" rude slogan. Once the crowd is formed in the first few weeks, it is very hard to break and very difficult to infiltrate, so the rest of the year must simply sit tight and graciously attend all the parties when appropriate.

Interesting fact: when three or more of the "in" crowd are together, they lose the ability to speak at anything less than four times the normal volume.

All those that do not fit into any of the above categories exist in a kind of limbo. They sit, work, and watch while the rest of the world prances about in their absurd caricatures. Ironically, it is this group that is the most bizarre of all. After only a little questioning, it can usually be seen that many of them have multiple hangups, neuroses, and phobias that should surely render them unfit to practise medicine. It is this group, however, that makes up the majority of medics, and as they rise through the ranks they choose yet more of their own to study medicine, in a vicious cycle leading to the whole of the medical profession being certifiable loons.