First, I’ll set aside all jabs about Duke’s athletic superiority over that of the Jayhawks. Now, let us break down where two ethical questions may arise: one, should these athletes be tracked and two, why do the trackers have to be elderly people?

When I think of college, I think not of more rigorous academics, learning to live with another person, or consuming disgusting amounts of pizza: I think of freedom. Included in my freedom is the choice to attend – or not attend – class. By hiring trackers to check up on these athletes’ attendance, KU is eliminating a fundamental component of the college experience. Should they stigmatize these students on the basis that they are athletes? They forfeit many freedoms when becoming a student athlete, should the liberty to skip class and catch up on sleep every now and then be one of the opportunities forgone?

The plight of student-athletes and their ‘special treatment’ is not as fascinating as my next point: what’s interesting is that KU has set up a game of cat and mouse where the cat happens to have arthritis and the mouse happens to be one of our nation’s top athletes. The decision to hire seniors – as opposed to any other demographic – does logically make sense: the athletes do not easily manipulate them. Sixty-plus years have apparently calloused them from the temptation of free tickets, autographs, etc. Moreover, in theory young people will feel the need to be more morally upstanding when around elders (you steal from your mom’s cookie jar, not your grandmother’s).

Regardless, I maintain that it is awkward – athlete or not – to have a gray-haired man peeping in your class periodically. Also, to what degree does the age of the trackers transform the attendance game into a joke to the athletes? The article illustrates some of the tricks that the athletes pull in attempts to cut class either altogether or to take off shortly after being accounted for. Would they try to slip away if they weren’t dubious about the trackers’ sight and hearing capabilities, issues some of the trackers say make their task more difficult?

I find the program a little too absurd for comfort. Added to the list of reasons why I’m happy to be a Blue Devil: Kyrie Irving can get himself to our Psychology lecture without a senior citizen spying on our class.

How Happy is too Happy?

From a very young age, nearly all of us are taught to “Follow the Golden Rule” and always be nice to others. As countless soap operas, Oprah specials, and well…the real world (that and Mean Girls, of course) has shown us, however, this rule is often broken. There have been many studies that show that indulging in overly selfish behavior leads to social ostracism and stigma.

Recently, however, one such study that set out to prove the social effects of selfishness conducted by Craig Parks and Asako Stone had a surprising outcome: people hate selflessness as much as selfishness. People think that those who are overly generous or “too nice” make themselves look bad or they find them irritating.

As much as we would all like to say WE would never think that about nice people, let’s admit we’ve all done it. The slightest tick of annoyance at that friend who just always makes you look bad because they’re constantly nice to everyone. Wondering how one person could possibly smile that much all the time? Maybe they’re acting nice but certainly, they HAVE to have some ulterior motive, right?

So, does selflessness exist? And if it does, should we try harder to embrace it?

I have always been told I am a little on the cynical side, so I must say the results of this study didn’t come as a total shock to me. I’m not sure what that says about me exactly, but maybe it’s just a part of our human nature.

Of course, I don’t think that simply because we might be “annoyed” at someone who’s “too nice” or think they make us look bad, we should all start acting selfishly. What do you think? How nice is too nice?

There is the longstanding stigma that videogames are, at best, an escape from reality. Painted in less favorable light, the games are regarded as corruptive and dangerous. However, a recent Wall Street Journal article claims that they are fulfilling and beneficial to users. Videogames bleed more and more into our daily lives.  They come with us everywhere now, hanging out in phones, not just in people’s dorm rooms.  Their ubiquity hasn’t convinced everyone of their good, though.

There is evidence for each side to cite: kids who play video games are better able to reason spatially; or a murderer who attributed his facileness with the crime to his videogame usage. While I think a lot of myths propel both sides, for the sake of this post, I think we should take basic point the WSJ article is making: “games consistently provide us with the four ingredients that make for a happy and meaningful life: satisfying work, real hope for success, strong social connections and the chance to become a part of something bigger than ourselves.” So, people desperately seek social connection and a meaningful life; what are the implications of allowing people to satisfy these needs in a virtual setting?

To answer that question, let’s keep several things in mind. First, videogames take place in virtual reality. Even with computer graphics nearly mirroring real life, games have a restart option, a degree of anonymity, and the ultimate escape, turning the game off. Moreover, some of the messages or themes of games can be rather absurd (Angry Birds, anyone?). On balance, none of these things seems terribly good for people.

Yet, as a society, shouldn’t we be thrilled that massive numbers of people are participating in a collective effort? Could banding together in a Halo community be to our generation what WWII was to our grandparents’ generation? However, what real world experiences and achievements do these individuals forgo? It’s important to acknowledge the potential benefits of videogames. However, are we in position to accept them as an unobjectionable good yet? Reading these two articles, one from the WSJ and the other from Slate.com, might help one come to their own conclusion.

As for me, while I’m not on the PTA mom videogames-are-the-root-of-all-evil kick, I find the thought of quenching my desires for “satisfying work” and “being a part of something bigger than [myself]” through a videogame slightly pathetic. Playing Brickbreaker on the bus to West is acceptable; citing your videogame success as your social and career accomplishments, is not.