I read an excellent article the other day by a professor at Yale, Timothy Snyder. He convincingly argued that laptops should be banned in the classroom. He carried this out in his own classes after realizing that a good number of his students were lost to him, awash in the sea of online entertainment as he lectured. After banning laptops, an atmosphere of quiet focus prevailed. Class evaluations reflected favorably upon the change, and more importantly, grades went up significantly.

I am impressed by this lone professor’s perceptiveness, and his resolve to address the problem. How many of us have, with studious intentions, had our eyes drawn to the screen of the fellow watching the latest episode of “The Office” in the next row? The temptation is bad enough when, as the evening draws to a close and we should be finishing that last bit of homework with our rapidly dwindling alertness, the digital sirens Hulu, YouTube and countless other sites beguilingly beckon us. But now laptops and wireless access bring this distraction into the classroom, and it is clearly problematic. How can we absorb the information we’ve undertaken to study when we are constantly besieged with such distractions?

I can’t help but think, however, that this issue with laptops is symptomatic of a larger problem. Something is rotten in the state of Académe, and that something is a subtle, slow slackening of expectations. How else could it be that students whittle away their time in class with digital distractions and still have a hope of passing?

Therefore, while I think the professor’s ban of laptops is well-intentioned, its compulsory nature contradicts the dignity of studenthood, the very bolstering of which is the long-term solution to this problem. What about those who want to use a laptop for actually taking notes, a potentially much faster way to copy them down? People tend to act with as much dignity as is ascribed to them, and the most wholesome and powerful form of motivation is one springing from self-respect, not from regulations. It is for this same reason that I don’t think attendance should be taken. We signed up for this, we’re paying for it, and it’s our own fault if we fail to take full advantage.

I’m not letting professors off the hook, either. Lectures rich with information and insight will naturally capture the undivided attention of eager and curious students. In the same vein, tests should be harder and should require a real understanding of the material, not just its rote repetition. By giving their best, professors should expect the same from students in return. I often see a downward spiral whereby sympathetic professors, after an initial bout of less-than-stellar grades, lessen their expectations in order to accommodate the class. Keep your standards high and students will rise to meet them. In this way, grades will more readily reflect an understanding, perhaps even an appreciation, of the material. The emphasis will appropriately shift to the material itself, and good grades will be a pleasant side effect.

As with any proposed solution that relies upon the mysterious workings of human pride and self-motivation, it leaves open the possibility that there may be ne’er-do-wells who continue to distract earnest students with their own lack of classroom decorum. Yet I like to think that, with a more stringent and intimate student-professor relationship, such individuals would get their own just deserts in the form of poor grades. After all, what a terrific shame it would be if, after four years at the University of Massachussetts, your knowledge base was primarily composed of the last four seasons of your favorite shows!

Gavin Beeker is a UMass student. He can be reached at [email protected].