College life involves the occasional mistake. Too many beers at the pre-game tailgate can leave you standing in the bathroom line and missing the lone Wildcat touchdown. An early morning walk home from the previous evening’s intimate tryst requires fighting off a passerby’s knowing smirk. Properly managed, Advil for the former and condoms for the latter, these mild embarrassments are just part of life’s flow (and the object of a friend’s occasional ribbing). But as reported in The Daily, even the mildest of consequences is an affront to today’s students.

Forgetting or losing a key (electronic or metal) is a problem as old as locks. The lucky student can jimmy a ground floor window to get back into their room. The less fortunate are at the mercy of a cooperating roommate. All other options exhausted, the last resort is to report to the dorm desk and get a temporary pass card. The University, in keeping with its educational mission, grants a mulligan for first-time offenders with a warning that subsequent transgressions cost $10 a pop. Mercy is granted and a lesson learned. Or not, judging from the indignant outrage of students who obviously feel that building security and personal responsibility are subservient to their inability to commit to the basest level of adult behavior.

Had any of the interviewed students (or a mildly intrepid reporter) crossed west over Sheridan Road, the story would be different. They would have learned that in off-campus housing (a.k.a. “the real world”) a locked-out student would have to call a locksmith. Presented with a bill considerably more than $10, the student would cry, “But I can’t afford that.” The locksmith’s reply would probably be unprintable on these pages, but suffice it to say the student would remain, quite literally, on the outside looking in.

This dispiriting state of affairs came with one silver lining when a self-described serial key forgetter pointed out, “If you get locked out once a week, that’s $100 per quarter.” If you are smart enough to go to Northwestern, and can do that kind of math, you can remember your room key.

— Alexander W. Stephens, WCAS ‘87