However, Senate Minority Whip Jon Kyl (R-Ariz.) informed the media this week that the Senate should not vote on New START because he would make moves to block it. As a Republican leader on the nuclear issue, Kyl’s support is essential to the treaty’s ratification, a legislative process that needs two-thirds of the Senate, or 67 votes, to pass.

Kyl’s threat to reject New START reeks of political maneuvering. His purported reason for not supporting the treaty? Not enough time to discuss it. In an official statement, a Kyl spokesman said that the treaty should not be considered in the Senate’s current lame-duck session “given the outstanding issues on the treaty and modernization.” This statement came after White House officials held a combined 29 meetings, phone calls and briefings with Kyl about the treaty. Clearly, Kyl is throwing a wrench in the ratification process to, at the very least, delay a vote until the next meeting of the Senate, in which the Democrats will have six fewer seats. This is an unfortunate case of a politician choosing political gain over an issue of national security.

The diplomatic ramifications of opposing the New START Treaty are grave. A rejection in the Senate would reduce the U.S.’ credibility in Russia—credibility that is vital to gaining Russian support in opposing Iran’s burgeoning nuclear program. During his administration, Obama has rolled back Bush-era efforts to curb Russian power in the former Soviet Union. He has also unilaterally eliminated the U.S.’ anachronistic, Russia-centric missile defense plans, namely the radar and interceptor installations in the Czech Republic and Poland. Obama has switched to a nuclear defense strategy that caters more to threats from Iran. A rejection of the New START Treaty would de-legitimize these genuine efforts to engage Russia and de-incentivize Russia from taking a hard line against Iran.

Moreover, a world without New START is a world without any mutual monitoring of the U.S. and Russian nuclear stockpiles. This would be a significant devolution to the Bush days of zero arms control and a serious risk to U.S. national security. Together, the U.S. and Russia possess 90 percent of the world’s nuclear arsenal. Not that Russia is nearly the threat it was during the Cold War, but should the United States really bear the risk of not inspecting and monitoring the Russian nuclear program?

Kyl is also concerned that the treaty will limit the modernization of the U.S. nuclear arsenal—a common fear among Republicans. They should not worry, as Obama has promised $84 billion over the next 10 years to modernize the U.S. military program. That is 20 percent more than former President Bush ever spent. This financial commitment was a concession from many liberal Democrats for the sake of securing bipartisan support of the treaty. If Kyl succeeds in blocking the treaty, the congressional consensus for financially supporting nuclear modernization could disintegrate, as the liberals will feel betrayed and unwilling to make further concessions.

Kyl has committed to blocking a nuclear arms control treaty that is endorsed by Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, six former secretaries of state (from both parties), five former secretaries of defense (from both parties) and seven former nuclear weapons commanders—according to a recent New York Times article. His opposition will have extremely negative effects on U.S. credibility and diplomacy and would cool Russia’s willingness to join the U.S. in undermining Iran’s nuclear program. It is a blind attempt to discredit Obama’s foreign policy, with no thought to the impact on the world’s nuclear landscape.

As the theory of human evolution predicts, Homo sapiens have responded to the invention of cell phones by developing new mating rituals. Essentially, guys use text messaging to get girls. Or at least they try. (A note for the feminists out there: I would include the ladies in this analysis of sexual culture, but frankly, I know nothing about women. None of us guys do. To speak for you would be even more sexist; all I know are my own experiences. So please, think of this article as a guy’s perspective. Thank you. Whew.) Over time, anthropologists have deemed these electronic mating rituals text-message-induced (TMI) hookups.

For guys, texting is really great. It’s now easier to contact girls when you have a perpetual voice in their pocket. We don’t have to deal with the angst and self-doubt associated with talking face-to-face. It’s way easier to project all of your insecurities on a little metal device that will always respect you, will never make fun of you, and will be cool spending all day at your side. And finally, the pain of rejection isn’t as harsh when it’s a pixilated frown-y face breaking the news, as opposed to the palpable disgust on a (real! live!) woman’s face.

Early text-messagers had primitive methods; they would simply text, “what are you up to?” Even worse, some sent the dreaded open-ended-conversation text—the word “hey.” Today, TMI hookups have developed into a refined art. Potential mates are expected to be quick and witty with their text-game. We have all sorts of multimedia at our hands like pictures and videos. Why not snap a picture of a sunset and send it to the object of your affection with the caption, “God says whaddup ;-)”? Personally, I’m waiting for the day when I can send auto-tuned voice recordings to people. In our sophistication, we have even developed the “sext,” which has grown a cult following among politicians and athletes. In short, men use incredibly creative means to electronically court women. **I can only imagine the amount of high-level thought that goes into a text conversation between two homosexual men.**

And now the hard part. Okay. Here is where I come clean. Hi, I’m Alex, and I have taken TMI hookups too far. It’s borderline absurd. I will occasionally send nothing but a blank text, hoping to confuse a girl enough to begin a dialogue with me. I have sent girls complete non-sequiturs. I have sent random fragments from a fake conversation, intimating that I sent it to them by accident and hoping to stoke their interest. I have even taken the ironic, head-on approach, texting nothing but the words “Dirty Text” (I still think this one is absolutely brilliant). Recently, I have taken to sending choice Foreigner lyrics in all caps (“I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IS! I WANT YOU TO SHOW ME”).

Call me nostalgic or call me a neoclassical revolutionary, but what happened to the romance? I cower in fear just thinking about how our parents’ generation did it, how they had to call another’s house, speak to parents and force awkward conversation—all for love. What happened to the adversity and suffering of courtship? To a certain extent, the nature of the process validates the final product; you always care more about the things you work the hardest for. These days, we just have to press a couple of keys and voila! Instant make-out (note: This is an idealized version of the author’s actual experience). It makes sense that our sexual culture has become desensitized and numb, for we aggressively use our cell phones and other media to cut social corners. Where’s the fun in that, anyway?

Here at Wash. U., we are creatures of convenience. Why ask someone out on a date when you see them at Whispers or Morgan Street or the frats? I’ll tell you why: because it’s more romantic. And romance is cooler. And in the end, legitimate, non-TMI conversations will beget more meaningful relationships between the sexes **(applies to all sexual orientations too)**. At Wash. U., we are inches from the Loop and feet from the Central West End. So here is my challenge to you, dear reader: find a girl (or guy) you like, and take them there. I promise it will be an absolute delight. And please let me know about it—I’ll be the guy sitting in my room with the lights off, Facebook stalking and sending blank texts.

As it turns out, Studio 7 has about as much character as Chancellor Wrighton on sleeping pills. The entire place is painted monochrome red, it’s only five years old, there are no posters on the walls, no memorabilia, no Chuck Berry autographs—nothing. It’s a place to get a haircut and yes, a lot of black people go there—but I would ascribe that simply to neighborhood demographics as opposed to any inherent “black” quality of this barbershop.

So I got my hair cut (they did a great job, by the way). On the walk back, I thought about my prior assumptions about the barbershop and if there was some inherent racism in them. I had assumed this place to be a bastion of black identity, a place where people came to “be black”—stereotypes that I embraced so wholeheartedly that I was shocked to find that I was wrong.

I don’t think stereotyping is necessarily racism. Stereotypes are stronger than we think; they penetrate the most basic fibers of our thoughts from a young age. In a functional way, they help us assimilate and classify the huge amount of information our brains must process on a daily basis. Sure, there are racist stereotypes, but we often cannot run from them. Ever try looking at a list of words without reading them? It’s really hard—near impossible—to avoid the automatic impulse to read. Stereotyping is a similar impulse.

Maybe we are all, on some level, racists. Or maybe racism occurs when we fail to question our assumptions, to push back on the views of the world that are already hard-wired into our minds. Furthermore, racism feeds on an over-extrapolation of our experiences. For example, when we judge Person Two based on the actions of Person One, even if they have no connection with each other, we are in danger of succumbing to our own stereotypical thoughts.

So was I racist the other day, walking down the Loop, assuming that no less than Cedric the Entertainer was going to open the door for me and give me a buzz cut (Barbershop reference to the confused)? I think I was. It didn’t even occur to me that my projection of this barbershop would be wrong, and that is a dangerous gray area between stereotyping and racism. Unfortunately, I believe this is a ubiquitous occurrence. We see it all the time in society—from the unwarranted arrest of Henry Louis Gates last year, to any time you go through airport security. My advice? Never take your thoughts at face value.

1) Psych Experiments. These babies pay $10 dollars an hour. I do five a week and it pays for my week’s worth of mimosas and pantyhose. You can sign up for a variety of times to fit your schedule at http://experimetrix.com/WU. They are always easy—sometimes awesome and sometimes boring. Amazing source of spending money for students with busy, unpredictable schedules.

2) Nude modeling in the art school. Um, yeah. Owed some people some money. Yeah. $20 dollars an hour, for a three hour studio. Highest paying campus job in the history of campus jobs. And that is why I no longer go to casinos.

3) The Gargoyle. Some way, somehow, those trendsetters at our very own campus concert venue (the Gargoyle, idiot) have a knack for bringing bands to WU that are on the brink of great fame and success. I have seen Animal Collective, Wolf Parade, Diplo, Cascada and Band of Horses there; acts such as Ben Kweller and Peter Bjorn and John have come in the past. And tickets are dirt cheap. My freshman year, a cop tasered some dude during a Girl Talk show in front of about 500 students. It was awesome.

4) The Music Library Reserves. The music library has AMAZING music reserves, specializing mostly in classic rock, jazz and classical music. I have found extremely interesting live CDs in there, and even a bunch of special edition re-issues and such. Here’s what you do: go on the “libraries” part of wustl.edu, search the Gaylord Music Library for whatever music you want, write down the call number, give it to the librarian, steal the music on your computer and return it. I walk in there on a nice Friday afternoon and turn into a straight up pirate for 2-3 hours. Right on campus property! Literally right there in the music library! And I’ll never get caught! Hey, librarian: I’M STEALING MUSIC RIGHT UNDER YOUR NOSE. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? Like I said, underrated.

5) Law School/Architecture Grad School Happy Hours. So I’m sitting in the Law School sophomore year reading on a Friday afternoon (took a break from music pirating), and the next thing I know, I am surrounded by cheese, crackers and beer. Within minutes, the entire main room is filled with people eating and drinking. So—and kids, don’t do this at home, especially if you’re from a strict immigrant family—*I got drunk*. Ended up making friends with this law guy from Omaha who talked to me for an hour about how he dated his TA in undergrad and fell in love with her and then she broke his heart and he hasn’t been the same for two years and went to law school to forget about her. You know what? Maybe you shouldn’t go after all; it’s kind of sad. But hey, can’t argue with free beer (Note: beer is $1 at Architecture Happy Hour).

6) The DUC shower. Second floor. *Offers the most spacious, private place to have sex on campus*. Also best place to get clean in the middle of the day. Some days you may need both. And, my young friends: That is always a good day.

7) MFA Readings in Hurst Lounge (in Duncker Hall). Maybe you want more out of college than sex and drugs. I know I do. I discovered that MFA (Master of Fine Arts) students studying creative writing have periodic showcase readings of their own stuff in this lounge. Wine and food generally provided. Just some amazing work out there, and the readings always bring an eclectic, interesting group of people from the Wash. U. community—generally not undergrad—together. Try it once or twice a semester. Even if you just go once or twice, I promise you will enjoy it. See the English department website for details.

8) Jazz at Holmes. My personal fave. Even more than the nude modeling. Every single week, there is an intimate jazz concert in Holmes lounge (the building next to Eads, where the carvery station is). Our school goes above and beyond to bring in amazing talent from the St. Louis area, all over the U.S., and even international people. Once or twice a year, a true jazz giant will come to WU for a special performance. The atmosphere and acoustics of Holmes are unrivaled by anywhere else on campus and it’s a great way to start your Thursday night, reflect on the ending week and the week ahead, and maybe even do some homework or read. It’s every Thursday during the semester from 8-10 p.m. And if you come by, say hi to me—I’m the guy drinking mimosas and wearing pantyhose.

Allow me a moment to explain to you why you should be immensely excited about seeing the Cold War Kids. Their songwriting is fresh, and catchy. It’s delightfully weird and idiosyncratic. They write lyrics about anything, from the life and times of a down-on-his luck dad in “We Used to Vacation,” to a woman with a reluctant, yet inevitable taste for destructive relationships in “Every Man I Fall For.” But no matter the subject, every song reveals some conflict of the human heart—could we ask for any more from Art? Finally, and most importantly, they play every show with a reckless abandon and an uncommon intensity. I get butterflies when I imagine lead singer Nathan Willett’s piercingly high voice exploding in the Brookings atmosphere and raining down over the drunk masses. Hearing a band perform live is like seeing Miss America without make-up; stripped away from the safety of the studio (or mascara), you can evaluate what their true sound is. I promise you, these guys rock—you all should be squirming with excitement as you drink your burnt coffee in Whispers and read this.

Some will say you must possess a certain kind of musical taste in order to enjoy the Cold War Kids. After all, it is indie rock music—sometimes dissonant, sometimes screeching, sometimes just…weird. Every shred of documentation about the Cold War Kids, from various publications, to interviews, to their Wikipedia article describes it as an “indie rock band.” In itself, “indie” doesn’t have a true meaning; it is a highly adaptable term used to describe the social force supporting the music as much as the music itself. The blanket application of this term is not even unfair or inaccurate—it is irrelevant. I urge all of you conventional music fans not to run from it, but to ignore it. Don’t let the image of a band affect how you hear their music.

Finally, we should be excited to see the Cold War Kids because they do what most rock bands strive to do, and they do it well: offer a fresh approach to the infinitely-replicated musical archetype of the Pop Song. Most songs you ever hear are pop songs in the general sense, in that they are three to five minutes long, have a verse and chorus, and are typically played by rock instruments. If you learn about six guitar chords you can hack your way through an innumerable number of them. In 2010, 60+ years of rock music has seemingly consumed every shred of musical originality. But I promise you that at W.I.L.D. the Cold War Kids will give you something you have never heard before. What more could a music fan want, as a lover of aural art? We are all smart kids who like to experience the world (unless you’re in the business school…I kid), and this opportunity to see sweet live music should spark our interest. I can’t promise you’ll like the band, because artistic opinion is completely subjective. But my challenge to you, reader, is to divest yourself from your preconceived notions of pop music, and on April 30, to keep your ears and minds open. And don’t pass out too early.

Israel’s statement was indeed an oddball political move. Its timing was even stranger given the announcement, only the day before, that Israel and Palestine had agreed to four months of indirect peace talks, the first such negotiations in a year. Palestinians capitalized on the awkward timing of the construction, issuing statements accusing Israel of sabotaging the talks.

Some observers have trumpeted this fiasco as a low point in Israeli-American relations. Yet in truth, its messy aftermath was magnified by Biden’s statement; had it not coincided with his visit, it wouldn’t have proven nearly as explosive. The U.S. should not allow this event to be a lasting sticking point with Israel. Here’s why:

A significant difference exists between the settlements in the West Bank and the new homes Israel intends to build in Jerusalem. The controversial settlements—the root of the growing U.S.-Israel rift—are Israeli outposts embedded in Palestinian territory. They are run and vehemently defended by rightist Israeli zealots, and represent a fervent opposition to the more liberal land-for-peace doctrine.

The proposed housing in East Jerusalem does not fall under this category. The population of East Jerusalem is split fairly evenly between Israelis and Palestinians, and the construction is only to occur in an Israeli suburb. It has been Israeli policy to build in this area since 1967, a policy that has never undermined any major negotiation effort, from Israel’s peace agreements with Egypt in the 1970s to the Oslo talks in 1993. Construction in East Jerusalem is vastly different from West Bank settlement—a difference the U.S. must recognize.

True, Palestinians do exhort Israel to change its Jerusalem policy. But observers must consider the track record of Israeli land policy that accommodates Palestinian interest. Israel’s unilateral withdrawals of troops from Gaza and Lebanon have not resulted in any lasting peace, only increased rocket attacks on Israel. Given these results, paring down the Israeli presence in East Jerusalem is not prudent. East Jerusalem—home of the Temple Mount, Western Wall, Church of the Holy Sepulchre, all of invaluable meaning to both Jews and Muslims—is too important for Israel to risk on the off-chance of Palestinian reciprocity.

The U.S. has a valid argument against Israel’s settlement forays into the West. But to oppose the Jerusalem construction is unfounded micromanagement. Since reclaiming Jerusalem in the Six Day War of 1967, Israel has every right to build as it pleases in the city, especially in a Jewish suburb.

The resultant rift over this issue further erodes the U.S.’s emotional and rhetorical support for Israel. Israel relies on this support for its own confidence, a confidence that is essential in future negotiations with the Palestinians.

Sure, I subscribe to some of the typical criticisms of porn. It instills young men with an unrealistic and outrageous perspective on sex. It minimizes the act of sex to a form of entertainment, replete with actors, a set and corny ’80s bass grooves in the background.

These are legitimate complaints, but what really bothers me about porn is its obliteration of the innocence and organic nature of an adolescent’s sexual awakening. In my parents’ day (sorry to bring it up again), sex was that enigmatic, tantalizing subject discussed in hushed voices during recess. It gradually took hold of young minds as an abstract concept and slowly—and with experience—became a fully formed notion.

That is the romantic, nostalgic version of the sexual awakening. But with a laptop and an Ethernet cable, any kid today can lock himself (or herself) in the bathroom for days, watching naked people with exaggeratedly large sexual features do it with each other. The romance of sex is gone. It may as well be “World of Warcraft.” Every gross detail of sex is right there on the Internet, even organizing your weird fetishes by category.

Though that sounds tempting (I haven’t found anyone else in college who likes naked Civil War re-enactments as much as I do), the effect of this de-romanticization of sex has far-reaching consequences. All of that awesome sex on the Internet seriously inhibits self-discovered sexual creativity. We live in a new age of sexual liberalism; you’re no longer considered a hippy because you like to get weird in the sack. But porn operates against the tide of this new social freedom. It prevents us from thinking for ourselves, from imagining something that hasn’t already been perfected by Jenna Jameson. Despite all of the embrace-your-sexuality rhetoric in society, a generation of kids can’t even think of sex without a mousepad.

All I’m saying is that porn shortens our path of sexual discovery and leaves no room for exploration. And in my opinion, that’s a damn shame.

Take the ’80s: the generation where most of our cool uncles came of age, did lots of drugs and sat around in basements. Everybody who grew up in this decade remembers “The Breakfast Club.” Why? Because it represents the angst Generation X felt at the time. As the cultural revolution of the ’60s was long gone and replaced by the stuffy conservatism of Ronald Reagan and the Moral Majority, kids had nothing to fight for anymore. I mean, they wore jean jackets. Dude.

Here is the plot, for those who grew up under a rock: Five kids—representing five high school stereotypes—come to detention on a Saturday morning and forge unexpected friendships. But the part that the youth of America held up and revered came when Badass (Judd Nelson) tells his principal to “Eat. My. Shorts,” to which Principal Vernon replied “You just bought yourself another Saturday.” Finally! Something for the disaffected youth of the ’80s to fight against, even if it was just the principal. Yet times and tastes change, and while today’s viewers can enjoy “The Breakfast Club,” they must see it as totally dated. Such is the cycle of generational movies—from relevant to relic.

In our time, a new type of movie has emerged, widely referred to as the Bromance. I know the word is a worn-out cliché in our social lexicon, but it perfectly describes these films in best friend-love often overshadows man-woman love. I know, your mind just took you the scene in “Superbad” when Jonah Hill proclaims to his best friend “I just love you. I just wanna go to the rooftops and scream: ‘I love my best friend, Evan.” He then proceeds to lovingly poke him on the nose and famously coo “boop!”

This is the essence of the Bromance: two dudes realizing their inexorable bonds with one another in hilarious fashion. These movies—such as “Old School,” “Wedding Crashers,” “The Forty Year-Old Virgin,” “Anchorman,” “The Hangover” and even older ones like “American Pie” and “Top Gun”—all depict journeys of friendship and the notion of some collective achievement, even if it’s just getting your buddy laid. And yes, ladies, I acknowledge that these films are complete boys’ clubs and possibly proffer an anti-feminist agenda, but that’s another column. I am more interested in why people love these movies so much. What feature of today’s society makes us enjoy Bromance so much that we watch these movies repeatedly and quote them incessantly?

In some ways, the ease of communication in our world makes us less self-sufficient and more reliant on our friends. As a college student, contact with friends from home isn’t a monthly, 12-minute conversation on the dorm pay phone—it’s a casual text or the ever-random g-chat. Or even more weird—but completely status quo—a cursory glance at his Facebook pictures to make sure he’s chillin’ just as much as you are. When all people had were snail mail and landlines, it was much less hard to generate human contact. Without literal Rolodexes at their fingertips like we have today in our cell phones, people were inherently more self-sufficient because they had to be.

Today, we are much more invested in our friends’ lives because we have more windows through which to observe them; you can “bro out” through six or seven different forms of communication. I do not mean to say that technology has improved friendships; rather, I believe technology has given us more of a reason to affirm our friendships. Case in point: It’s much easier to tell a friend you love him or miss him (or anything else girly-men say) in a text than in person. But in these movies, it’s cool to love your bro—and society has followed suit.

Of course, my message is 10-odd years too late. Napster, Kazaa and Limewire were cool in middle school but inevitably caused more problems than they solved. After a few years of rampant music downloading, your computer was probably more riddled with viruses than a public toilet seat. Enter Apple, the master of corporate chic—leave it to these guys to piggyback on a social phenomenon, refashion it in sleek and shiny packaging and then make a quick buck off it. But what amazes me the most is that people actually buy into the iTunes model. People who used to get music for free now pay over a buck per tune—which can add up to hundreds or even thousands of dollars.

I only say all this to paint a picture of today’s music-listening culture. People can get any album they want within seconds. People can tell you exactly how many Bruce songs they have in their library or how many live Dead shows they own. And, as evidenced by the wild success of iTunes and the iPod (200 friggin’ dollars!), people are willing to pay. I paid $75 to see Phish this summer, and sure I got my fix of Woodstock-y, communal hippie-ism, but I still spent an exorbitant amount on my ticket—a goofy e-ticket printout nonetheless—and paid $8 for a hot dog. This was kind of a cop-out. What happened to music for the masses, music that the poor, starving bohemian culture could also afford?

And furthermore, whatever happened to the rock musician as a true international superstar whose opinions people actually cared about? Forty years ago, people went crazy over John Lennon’s “Bed-ins,” during which he and Yoko spent a week in bed protesting war. These days, I just want to hear a band play and not tell me to vote or why Bush sucks. When I hear Bono talk about Africa, all I want to do is choke-a-lass.

Rock music has outgrown its adolescence. It’s no longer excited by its own novelty. The loudness of Jimi’s guitar, the blues-rock of Zeppelin, the profundity of Dylan and countless other rock-isms have been thoroughly canonized. Though they will always light a fire in any teenager’s heart—we’ve all felt it—they are not new.

Now that society knows what it means to rock, it demands perfection and originality from its music. If I don’t like your 30-second clip on iTunes, I’ve already moved on. Take the recent “mashup” and “sampling” phenomenon. Artists (and I use the term loosely) only choose the best parts of a song to sample, perfect for today’s ADD-ridden music listeners.

Tomorrow, you will all (God willing) make it to Brookings Quad to hear Passion Pit, a rock band whose techno/dance feel sometimes sounds like it was produced by a computer, not by instruments. In your mind, juxtapose classic rock with this new music; you will find it difficult to believe that both are roughly categorized as “rock.” This music (and others, too) modifies—or even departs from—the central “rock-isms” I’ve discussed.

Observed holistically, however, we see how rock music has progressed along the same development path of any art form; newness comes as a reaction to oldness, which was a reaction to something older, and so on. So wake up tomorrow, imbibe the sweet nectar of our youth, and check out some good tunes at W.I.L.D. But remember, whether it’s fresh or not, what you’re hearing is in many ways an interpretation of the past. Rock on.

Alex is a junior in Arts & Sciences. He can be reached via e-mail at abgreenberg@gmail.com.

Becky Zhao | Student Life

In 1991, Minnesota passed the first charter-school legislation in U.S. history, igniting a debate over the true social benefit of alternative education. Within the laissez-faire charter concept, schools are largely ungoverned by the regulations of traditional public schools and free to experiment with new teaching and administrative methods. In return, they must achieve certain test score benchmarks each year to maintain their public funding. Yet 18 years later after the first charter, the efficacy of this model has been challenged by a shocking study conducted by researchers at Stanford University. Its results: While 17 percent of charter schools performed better than traditional public schools in the same state, 37 percent provided a worse education. The remaining 46 percent of charter schools reported results that were statistically identical to those of public schools.

Given the enormity of the tax dollar investment in charter schools, this data is alarming. Why should the government continue to fund an alternative to a broken system that itself is faulty? The answer is a complete and shameless cop-out, but it is the only answer: Be patient. Society must judge charter schools with a long-run outlook; these data reflect the mere growing pains of a complex, nationwide solution to an even more complex, nationwide problem.Undoubtedly, the potential benefit of the charters outweighs their short-run social cost, for without innovation, the bad habits of American public schools will repeat perpetually.

Luckily for society, charter schools have the freedom to form their own habits, and while some fail, others succeed, and these successful models disseminate throughout the public school system. As social laboratories, charter schools serve as live testing grounds for the hypotheses of experts and academics. In Massachusetts, the Community Day Charter School deviated from the typical principal-assistant principal-teacher leadership chain and created multiple principal posts, each with narrowly defined roles. Able to more closely monitor teaching from classroom to classroom, the school soon became one of Massachusetts’s top five highest performing charter schools. Encouraged by these empirical successes, Massachusetts has begun to implement this model in other troubled public schools. This progression—from idea to implementation to dissemination—demonstrates the potential efficiency of the charter system to implement change.

Innovation such as Community Day’s could only occur within the unique incentive structure of a charter school. While traditional public schools may become complacent with their guaranteed funding, charter schools must achieve a certain benchmark of success, sometimes higher than the public school standard, to preserve their charter. Thus, creativity is a charter school’s greatest asset. With more than 4,000 charter schools in the United States working to improve on current educational conventions, a burgeoning culture of change has begun to gain momentum—and the groups that need the change the most are getting it the most. Demographic analysis in the Stanford study reveals significant improvement in the test scores of low-income and English-language learners who switched from failing public schools to charter schools. In America, where 12 percent of the public schools are responsible for 50 percent of the nation’s dropouts, the changes in environment and teaching style offered by a charter school can catalyze vast attitude shifts in the psyche of the American student.

Still, one cannot ignore the findings of the Stanford study. How can governments spend large amounts on programs whose results are long-term and nebulous? The answer (a little more concrete this time): Spend more. In many cash-strapped school districts, charter schools receive significantly less funding per student than TPS. Forced to ration resources, charters often settle for low teacher quality, poor facilities and little individualized attention. Without proper funding, a failing charter school is no different than a failing public school. To me, the ability of charter schools to test the hypothetical educational practices and provide real results overshadows their potential failures. If state governments have any interest in investing in their intellectual infrastructure, they should spend more on charter schools—the potential for long-run improvements are too tantalizing to reject.