Written by Sanjay Paul, Associate Professor of Economics

The beginning of an academic year is always fraught for Homer. The arrival of the 2018-19 term was no exception. Homer worried about the changes that had been hatched during the summer and would now be unleashed on the denizens of the campus.

So it was with some trepidation that Homer made his way to the Blue Bean. Would he still be able to count on his scones, especially the ones without icing?

The cafe now appeared to be an outpost of Starbucks. In its quest for world domination, the coffee company has decided that no corner is too remote, no college coffee shop too insignificant. Homer would have to pay more for coffee, but, as he grudgingly admitted while sipping from yonder cup, the quality was significantly better. And even more agreeably, scones and muffins would continue to be available under the new arrangement.

So far the changes had been reassuring. But then Homer picked up the Etownian—and discovered that a mold infestation had broken out, causing the hapless residents of Hackman Apartments to be relocated temporarily. The Etownian was unstinting in its coverage of the outbreak, with entire pages seemingly devoted to one unsavory aspect after another.

Perhaps the newspaper should be called the Moldonian! Homer chortled at the thought, but then caught himself. After all, mold was a serious matter, with the possibility of adverse health consequences if not addressed properly. And from all accounts the college had moved with alacrity to resolve the problem, bringing in mold removal services even before full testing had been carried out.

In an update posted on the college website on Sept. 12, the Hackman people received the good news: they could return. There was some stuff about dehumidifiers, even some mention of compensation. Perhaps, thought Homer, we had heard the last of it.

Then the college had announced a cut in tuition, and it was no mean cut. A full 32 percent had been slashed from the sticker price. Starting in 2019-20, tuition would be set in the low 30s. For continuing students, the effect was likely to be modest, since financial aid packages would also be adjusted downward leaving the net tuition price roughly unchanged.

But these are not easy decisions for a college to make. For many months, discussions about a tuition cut had been carried out quietly. Consultants had been hired to conduct surveys, make presentations and issue reports. The Trustees had done their customary prodding and probing. And finally it was time for a decision to be made.

The tuition committee met in Hoover. The members were asked to put on blindfolds.

This was certainly an unusual meeting, thought Homer. They were led out, through a series of hallways and what seemed like an underground tunnel. Finally, they entered a room. A steel door clanged shut behind them.

As he removed his blindfold and sat down, Homer wondered, could this be the famed basement of Alpha Hall?

The room was dark. They could hear water dripping, but it turned out to be the gurgling sounds of a Keurig machine in a nearby Dean’s office.

“Place your smartphones in the basket,” came the first of several instructions from the Master of the Committee. A basket made its way around the room. Homer thought, didn’t the White House know how to do this? Omarosa, with her penchant for recording conversations, could have been stopped in her tracks.

“Now,” said the MC, “pick up the sheet of paper in front of you and turn it over.”

The dimness made reading difficult.

“At the bottom of the page, you will see a dotted line. Sign your name on it.”

Homer wondered, what was he signing off on? As if reading his mind, the MC spoke.

“You are signing a confidentiality agreement. You agree not to mention this to anyone.”

Ah, of course, a confidentiality agreement. After all, the college wouldn’t want its deliberations on the tuition cut to be made public before it was thoroughly fleshed out, all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed.

He signed on the dotted line. They all did. Silence hung over the room. The Dean was probably drinking his coffee by now. Someone, a dark figure floating in the Stygian gloom, came around to pick up the signed papers. The lights came back on. The members of the committee blinked, their eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. The tuition cut was on!