Sitting in my psych class this past week, I noticed that I held the lone pen in a sea of screens and keyboards. To my right, two girls browsed through an online shopping website. A few rows down, a girl checked her Facebook profile. And to my left, I watched a boy and girl scan through pictures of the previous weekend’s events. As my eyes darted from screen to screen, my professor continued to lecture, oblivious to the buzz of activity going on around him.

Well, “oblivious” might be a bit extreme. The professor joked on the first day of class that while he does allow computers in class, he was sure that at that moment most of the class was on Facebook (he was, of course, correct). He addressed this in hopes it would deter students from continuing this habit, but at each lecture I find increasingly more screens that draw my attention. Exactly what benefit do these devices have in the classroom if they serve more to distract from rather than facilitate an academic environment?

It’s only fair that I first mention a few of the countless capabilities of what I like to call a college student’s best friend (or Mactops, as my professor joked). The Internet allows students to stay in constant contact with professors, offers many University resources such as MIRLYN and CTools and enables students to follow along with slides posted online. Not to mention the notebook layout on Word, which allows students to carry notes for every class in the convenience of a 13” to 15” contraption, eliminating the need for the antiquated notebooks of earlier generations — and the ability to decipher one’s own scribbles.

Technology is incredible, yet it is so incredible that when it is at students’ fingertips, it’s simply irresistible. Don’t all attack me at once, but I propose that Internet access be limited in classrooms to give professors at least a chance at holding students’ attention. I don’t necessarily mean the Internet should be inaccessible, as it certainly has learning advantages when utilized correctly. Simply blocking a few popular distraction sites would make a huge difference. Some students may argue that they have the right to decide how they spend their class time, or that it is not the University’s responsibility to monitor their classroom etiquette. But the University should want to promote positive work habits, and blocking certain websites would accomplish exactly that.

Some professors don’t allow laptops at all in class, and while this is definitely a solution, it prevents the potential advantages of having a computer in class. Some students keep up with taking notes much better on a computer, and computers also give students the freedom to Google what they don’t understand. This freedom is unfairly revoked by the complete elimination of computers from the classroom, as there are more logical and reasonable ways to go about remedying this technological epidemic.

I understand that we are adults who pay for our education and that we should have the willpower to avoid such distractions for a mere hour or two — but that is wishful thinking. I will say that I usually opt out of bringing my computer to class, but it is by no means an attempt to abstain from distracting myself. In fact, it is primarily because I have yet to master the formatting of Word documents to fit my note taking style, and I admittedly do choose to bring my computer to class when I know there is a chance I’ll be bored.

So for all you strong-willed students judging my occasional lack of willpower, I truly envy you. But if you can honestly say that a person mouthing words awkwardly at his or her screen (video chatting) or frantically beating his or her arrow keys in an intense game of Tetris doesn’t distract you, then you truly deserve a round of applause (though I doubt that would distract you either).

To put it quite simply, we’re all still students and a little discipline wouldn’t hurt. I even find that classes tend to go by much faster when I engage myself in the material. To some extent it is the professor’s job to do this, but when my own desire to listen and learn is skewed by another's surrender to distractions, something must be done.

This article could return to stab me in the back when I get stuck in a never-ending lecture and have no outlet for my boredom. But it’s interesting to think that many of the column ideas I play around with come from things I learn and discuss in class, and not whatever distraction is on my screen.

Leah Potkin can be reached at lpotkin@umich.edu.