Pressure on the press

The Columbia Daily Spectator, like every newspaper in America, now finds itself under serious financial pressure. This semester, with the bleak financial picture in mind, Spec ceased printing the arts and entertainment Weekend section as a supplementary insert. The section is now a pull-out in the center spread of Friday’s paper. That’s just one of the changes the paper has be forced to make by the dark economic outlook.

For the majority of Columbians, the challenges Spectator is facing may seem to concern only those who work at the newspaper. Many students read the publication infrequently. Some cite the availability of campus news from the rapidly updated Bwog as evidence that Spec is antiquated, or even superfluous.

But Spectator (and full disclosure: I do work here), for all its flaws, is irreplaceable. It offers extensive, intensive journalism about the University and Morningside Heights. No competing journalistic enterprise mobilizes the manpower of Spec. Other campus news sources can be extensive (Bwog) or intensive (the Barnard Bulletin), but none are both.

The paper offers students in-depth daily news coverage that they cannot get anywhere else. In doing so, it serves as the foundation of campus discourse about life at Columbia. It takes raw information and synthesizes it, offering a basis for discussion and debate. At a school of 25,000, it’s impossible for any single student to assemble all the information he or she needs to form opinions about every issue. Some may be more willing to hunt for information than others, but the fact remains that I can’t just walk into President Bollinger’s office and ask him to explain a new policy. Even if I could, I would probably lack the lens necessary to interpret his answers on most topics.

The other day, for example, Spec reported that Columbia College has admitted 50 more students than years past to the class of 2013. This report received no coverage to speak of on Bwog, and I noticed no mention of it elsewhere.

On the face, the story was a simple one: next year’s first-year class will be slightly larger than this year’s. That’s information we easily could have gotten from the e-mail Dean Kevin Shollenberger sent us. What Spectator brought to the story was perspective on the ramifications of increased enrollment. A few more first-years doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it actually presents myriad challenges—both practical and philosophical—to Columbia life. As the article notes, not only does an increase in enrollment promise to exacerbate the campus housing crisis, but it raises serious questions about the University’s commitment to truly equitable admissions policies: “[Dean Shollenberger’s] e-mail implied that the College is increasing enrollment to raise revenue but did not explain if it could do so while maintaining its commitment to need-blind admissions.”

Only after reading the article did I begin to see how a seemingly innocent uptick in enrollment could signal that a foundational element of Columbia’s educational philosophy—need-blind admissions—might be under attack. After all, if Columbia is increasing enrollment due to financial concerns, it must be sure that it will turn a nice profit on the 50 additional students that potentially enroll. If those students pay their own way, the school gets a chunk of cash—tuition for 50 is worth upwards of $2.5 million. If, however, those students require financial aid, the cash flow they might offer Columbia could be significantly reduced.

Had I not read that article in the other day, I wouldn’t have thought about the implications of increased enrolled. The article, then, did not merely offer a litany of facts and figures about enrollment. Rather, it offered critical analysis (including interviews with administrators) about how these changes will, or may, affect Columbians.

If we are to be to engaged, responsible citizens in Morningside, in New York, we need a lens through which to view the events occurring around us. Spectator offers this community such a lens. It may not be perfect—but it is essential.

The author is a Columbia College sophomore. He is the deputy features editor for The Eye, and a staffer for the copy section.