The new dining plan rolled out by Campus Dining Services yesterday is a deceptive one.
On first glance, it appears to be something approximating a reversion to the dining plan of the 2000-2001 school year. The mandatory freshman meal plan has dropped to nine meals per week. The "Flex," or declining, plans are now available in convenient 50 and 75 meals-per-year sizes, a far cry from the enormous 110 meals-per-year plan offered this year.
Yes, on the surface, these changes, coupled with the proposed increase in the number of "retail" vendors -- a la the old Houston Hall -- seem great.
But on further investigation, there's something fishy about these dining plans.
For one, the largest meal plan, dubbed "platinum," offers students 19 "all-you-care-to-eat" meals every week for $3,512. Yet, curiously, the plan approximately half its size, the "silver" plan, offers nine meals per week for $3,145.
That is a difference of 10 meals and $367. Doesn't quite seem fair, does it? What are they hiding?
Well, nothing really. The amazing proximity in pricing was achieved by making "Dining Dollar$" do what meals-per-week couldn't. Sure, the "silver" plan offers you 10 fewer meals every seven days than the "platinum" plan, but it gives you 400 more "Dining Dollar$."
But what Dining hopes is that you will see the smaller plans and all the kitschy goodness it's added -- like improved "ambience" and a "can't miss" Sunday brunch -- and forget that the two most important things haven't changed.
Next year, students will still be paying too much money for food that is mediocre at best and service that is often atrocious. Introducing an "Asian concept" and "exhibition cooking pod" in Class of 1920 Commons won't make a meal plan worth three grand. Bringing a celebrity chef to English House every now and again will not improve the overall quality of the food.
What was most insulting and infuriating about the dining changes instituted one year ago -- the infamous scheme eliminating the smallest of the plans and making a 17-meal-per-week plan mandatory for all incoming freshmen -- was that it was all couched in the language of the college houses.
It was all about "building community."
Though Dining admitted that it "wanted some stability" as far as finances were concerned, then-Associate Vice President for Campus Services Larry Moneta claimed (I would imagine with a straight face, even) that "half of [the plan] came from our work with the college houses." And outgoing College Houses and Academic Services Director David Brownlee argued that the new policy would provide "a stable foundation for house-based programming."
As an additional slap in the face, he added, "I think it's important for freshmen to focus on their studies," as if the momentous decision of whether to eat at Beijing or Stouffer Dining actually kept students up at night.
Of course, we now know that all of that rhetoric was, to put it mildly, total garbage.
When the outcry came and Dining Services watched its customer base evaporate by 1,500 contracts -- in spite of the new blood that the mandatory meal policy ensured -- Dining was forced to sheepishly admit that the problems had nothing at all to do with "building community" or helping freshmen "focus on their studies."
Faced with the precipitous drop in contracts -- and consequently, in revenue -- Dining could no longer hide behind the farce of "building community." Forced to close Stouffer to save money -- a move its leaders had sworn earlier they would not make -- Dining was forced to change its excuse.
At least this time they were honest, admitting that indeed, Dining was in serious financial trouble, and that the meal plan changes were a craven grab for cash that went horribly wrong.
But before we say "hooray for honesty" and move on, it's important to remember that an excuse is still an excuse; its veracity doesn't really matter much when the truth doesn't force real change.
The old new plans and the new new plans were created to save Dining, but is Dining worth saving in and of itself?
The answer is no. Dining is in financial trouble because it deserves to be in financial trouble. The food isn't worth eating and the service doesn't make up for it. Neither does the price. Even the 19-meal-per-week plan this year -- the breakfast, lunch and dinner plan -- costs almost $6 per meal, or $18 per weekday.
Take it from me -- you can eat a lot more cheaply elsewhere.
And "Dining Dollar$," though they offer the opportunity for better food than is available at the dining halls, don't make it all that much better. The system is still based on the "all-you-care-to-eat" model -- a model that is no longer viable on this campus.
Perhaps more radical changes are on the way, and if they are, they should be applauded. Dining needs a lot more than misleading "flexible" meal plan options and occasionally fancy items to make it back into the black.
But for the time being, this new new plan is still rotten for the same reasons the old new meal plan was -- it is a desperate attempt to keep afloat a system that, of right, should sink.
Jonathan Shazar is a junior History and Political Science major from Valley Stream, N.Y., amd editorial page editor of The Daily Pennsylvanian.
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