I told one of my friends recently that it's probably healthy to have a really good idea once a week or so. This is last week's idea. I didn't think much about it until it struck me that the preliminary D-Plan assigned for me at random on DarTerminal was only my second choice, and therefore not the one that I think will fit my academic needs.
I basically expected this; I got a good break from the housing computer and the computer administrating course selection has yet to deny me a class, so I was overdue for my regularly scheduled random Dartmouth screw-over. Still, I was not happy with this development. I explained this to the First Year Office in an unfairly rude blitz, which, as usual, they answered with a professional and polite reply, thereby successfully pushing me over the edge, leading me to one desperate (but predictable) action: writing a column in The Dartmouth. Actually, I'm still holding the "attack Parkhurst with homemade slingshot" option in reserve, but I hear there's a hefty fine for that sort of thing.
I should begin by saying that this idea is not an attempt to correct the flaws in my personal D-Plan. I intend to solve that problem by whining as much as possible, or if that fails, compromising and switching R's to P's like everyone else. This proposal would correct an important error in the D-Plan itself, the error that prevents students from deciding for themselves when they attend Dartmouth.
I am basing my solution on two premises. The first and more important is that, by providing money through tuition, room, board, and arbitrary fines, Dartmouth students have earned the right to adjust their academic programs in any way they see fit, at least within the reasonable guidelines set forth by the College (a required sophomore summer, for example). The second is that the College, in economic terms, is essentially a monopoly service provider, in a very similar situation to that of a single airline offering a specific flight.
In this scenario, Dartmouth has only a limited number of rooms available for each term, much as the airline can only provide a certain number of seats for each flight. The airline, thanks to shrewd economic planning, engages in a policy of organized overbooking, selling more tickets than they have seats and expecting cancellations. Dartmouth, instead, attempts to resolve the issue beforehand by assigning only as many students to each term as can fit into the housing system.
When the airline finds itself overbooked, and not enough passengers cancel their reservations, they begin asking passengers to give up their seats, offering monetary incentives or free flights in exchange for their compliance. When Dartmouth finds itself overloaded, it kicks upperclassmen off campus for a term and overrides their personal choice, or at least forces them to jump through hoops to adjust their plans. Which program provides better customer relations and higher total utility? Don't answer that... you'll hurt the Trustees' feelings.
Here's a simplified version of how I think Dartmouth should handle D-Plan requests, although I'm sure it's fairly clear by now. First, the College would accept all first choice plans. After establishing for sure how many students cannot receive on-campus housing, it would begin asking students to adjust their programs to schedule a leave term. Then it would bring out the big guns- a program of monetary incentives that would work as a campus-wide auction. The College could call the money a "tuition deduction," a "leave-term stipend," or any other euphemism, but it would keep raising the stakes until enough students jumped ship to keep Dartmouth afloat for another term. According to the economic theory behind the policy, as I understand it, this would create a situation where those students who most needed to stay on campus that term would, while those who valued that option less would change their plans for appropriate compensation.
The only drawback to the plan I can see is an obvious one. It would cost money, possibly a lot of money. By my estimation, it would take around $1,000 to convince me to change my plan. It might take a lot less for some, or a lot more, but overall, I doubt the whole policy would extend into the millions of dollars per year, especially once the College decides on an appropriate permanent compensation level. Weigh this expenditure against the only other feasible alternative which would satisfy student interests: building substantial amounts of additional on-campus housing. I doubt the College could construct enough housing to alleviate overload with that low of a budget, and considering how wasteful such a project would be during terms with low enrollment, I doubt anyone would want to try.
In the end, the College has a choice between adopting an economically rational policy, one that could satisfy students at low costs, or continuing a program that simply does not meet the needs of the people who put so much of their lives into this campus. I don't expect the administration to take my word for it. I do expect them to think about it. Maybe I'll bring it up when I'm on my knees in the basement of McNutt, right after I break down at the Registrar's office.
