Criticism is meant to be constructive.

But unfortunately, in the case of Iowa State, a few choice words are always in order.

And when the sawdust settles, six words usually come to mind: “Come on! Stop and think already.”

To many, the recent McCampus movement serves reminder that ISU’s hardcore educational commitment remains questionable lip-service.

The concept of serving student interests is too oxymoronic, as those very interests are seldom taken into account. Instead, supposed convenience is substituted at their expense.

Nevertheless, important decisions involving student interests are made all the time, again, without student feedback.

This is what has always resentfully rubbed me the wrong way, chafed my pride for this institution.

Wide-spanning decisions are primarily made by overpaid, and underworked staff, in plush, annually redecorated offices.

A precautionary guidance measure against irrational student demands, it’s unreasonably assumed that the student populace is by and large incapable of either self-control or appraisal of its own desires.

Last fall’s Browsing Library and Chapel furor is a good example of how irrelevant genuine student interests are.

In the end, while the landmarks were spared, it was only after so prolonged a period it made the Union’s board of directors look like heroes, appear as if they were going out of their way to grant special favors.

Overwhelming opinion was painfully ignored from beginning to end, and was acknowledged only to avoid the scars of a public relations nightmare.

In other words, years down the line, appeased, alumni could still be hit up for donations.

Not everything worked out so nicely. The formerly quaint, quiet study commons, now sits as a multi-million dollar place to engulf fast food from an aptly named SuperChickenPandaSubTacoHut.

Frankly, so many people are turned off by the Union’s newfound sterility that whenever they step inside, they feel like they’re in a hospital.

And with the choice of greasy food vendors, it might as well be, in case the massive coronary of their dreams hits.

Another student mecca, the Hub, will be transformed into a McDonald’s by summer’s end.

Ronald, Grimace and all those silly-ass Fry Guys are getting right up in your face next fall, serving up hot, cut-and-burn-the-rain forest-to-laud-capitalism-burgers.

Students are expected to shrug at decimating a traditionally relaxed social mecca in the name of money, hysteria and special sauce.

The same type of anything-to-suck-off-anyone-we-can mentality is in the works for the College of Design, as well as the College of Family and Consumer Sciences, where small food carts will be established.

How these things are seen as primary interests to the student population, I don’t know.

Everyone that I’ve run into thinks all this recent streamlining is a bad idea.

Doesn’t anyone stop and think that maybe ISU is (or at least can be) above falling for the bait that transparent services pander?

Maybe not, but that’s not surprising, seeing as how the university’s priorities have always appeared mysteriously out of line. It reminds me of Ames’ Campustown renovation project three years ago – way off the mark. I can’t emphasize enough that campus does not need to be a carbon-copy of Welch Avenue, especially when they lie within a quarter mile of each other.

Convenience isn’t supposed to be synonymous with lazy, and being lazy isn’t what college is about.

You’re supposed to learn values and ethics, not how to find infinitely more time to play golf.

It can be argued that my reasoning is inherently wrong, but I’d seriously question that argument before it filled the air.

The mere fact that someone will buy a product doesn’t necessarily mean that they want it, or at least, that they want it to the exclusion of other services.

People buy things they don’t want all the time, and only because they’re bored.

Universities, as educational stepmothers, shouldn’t follow shallow leads, but rather, should take bold steps to teach better lessons.

If the term “best interest” is really such a point of contention, then Iowa State at least owes its students the opportunity to be asked what it is that they really want.

If it turns out that my peers really want fries with their education, then fine, I might grab a few myself.

However, since I don’t believe this is the case, an ulterior motive for administrative omnipresence exists, and that motive simply comes down to greed, not need.

Think about it.

David Ptak has a B.A. in philosophy from Iowa State University. He is from Pompei.