Bursley Hall is a crime scene. Just weeks after Bursley’s dining hall received a large shipment of delightfully colored mugs, nearly all of them had been ruthlessly mug-knapped. As a resident of Bursleyville, I’m embarrassed. So, I decided to investigate, and with some help, I have determined that the Bursley cafeteria theft is not an isolated issue, but is instead part of a larger, nastier problem.

Last week, I spoke on the phone with Sandy Lowry, associate director of Residential Dining Services, who told me just how serious and costly dining hall theft has become. Over a 15-month period ending in November, dining halls across campus had to pay to replace 20,400 blue plastic cups, 21,600 pieces of flatware and 17,000 pieces of china at a cost of over $50,000. Lowry told me that the dining halls budget for a roughly 15-percent loss of tableware each year, but the mugs seem to have left that estimate in the dust. As if that wasn't bad enough, Communications Director for University Housing Peter Logan pointed out to me last Friday that these numbers are especially depressing since very few of the cup and flatware losses are due to breakage. That means that almost all of those items had to be replaced because they were stolen. That should bother all of us.

A friend of mine, though, didn’t agree. Board costs a lot of money, she said, so her theft is justified. In her view, theft is just a means of getting what she paid for.

It’s what I call the Robin Hood complex, and it’s delusional. Students like my friend seem to feel they are acting in pursuit of justice and equality. Just like Robin Hood stealing from the rich to help the poor, they’re combating high prices by stealing whatever they consider their piece of the pie from the community.

Not surprisingly, Logan told me, “The impression that they’re going to get some of this back” — i.e., that stealing will help them get their money’s worth — is a flawed one. The cost of replacing those stolen items isn’t small, and “It’s a cost ultimately borne by the students.” My friend is really stealing from me and all of us in Bursleyville.

I don’t like the price of board either. But to those Robin Hoods among us who feel their board money is being spent overpaying wealthy housing employees, I invite you to spend some time with The Michigan Daily Salary Supplement, available on the paper’s website, which lists the salaries of every employee from custodians to directors. Take a moment to scroll through the literally hundreds of names of custodians and cooks making $30,000 or less each year. Decide for yourself whether or not we’re paying too high a price for your meals and whether your theft is really so just.

There are also those who are simply apathetic. They steal because, to them, it’s inconsequential. Somehow, when donating $5 to help Haitians, we’re told every dollar counts. But apparently the same isn’t true for stealing a few dollars worth of plates. Seemingly inconsequential things — like the greenhouse gases leaving our tailpipes — can add up to issues of enormous importance. As with global warming, if enough of us act irresponsibly at once, the disappearance of a few delightfully colored mugs can bring the world to its knees.

But, in all seriousness, maybe mug theft is no international crisis. What bothers me isn’t so much the cost, which I know is still relatively small, it’s the disappointment. I am so proud to be a part of this community, and I expected our ambitious student body to care as much for social responsibility as for academics and sports. In danger of sounding too philosophical, as young people, we’re supposed to be the progressives. We’re supposed to look with disgust at the world as it is now and feverishly seek a better society. To me, our growing tendency to rob one another seems a symptom of something far worse than an affinity for spoons: apathy. And students are the ones who are supposed to care.

The dining halls belong to us all. Unless you truly can't afford your own fork, don’t steal mine.

Nicholas Clift is an Engineering freshman.