No Smoke, No Fire

University laws, like state and national laws, are not made to be broken. But when they prohibit a man from a share of greatness, discontent will naturally arise. Because the No Smoking rule in Memorial Hall technically makes it impossible for the freshmen to hold their Smoker there, an entire Harvard class may rise in righteous protest, its desire to be great for a night brutally dashed.

Should the Administration deny the use of Memorial Hall to freshmen, the gala Smoker would be a thing of the past. Nowhere else in the University is there a place suited to hold over a thousand, fun-loving, rollicking freshmen. The sanity and reservation inherent in mass fun would lose itself in the cramped confines of individual suites. And the playful inanity of both the elections and entertainment would promptly cease.

Everyone who has ever been to one knows that the Smokers have a great tradition. There is beer without taste only at a Smoker. First year frustrations are grandly released when freshmen throw pennies at individual performers. The floor of Memorial Hall gets a beer lacquer, and everybody sloshes around and throws beer at one another, and laughs, and goes home to bed.

But a law is a law. As beneficial and as creditable as the Smoker is to Harvard, the consequences of ignoring a University rule would be far more dangerous. Anarchy would take the place of a smooth running bureaucracy. If there is no Smoker this year or in the future, the disappointed class of 1957 can proudly take the initial credit for preserving Harvard's integrity.

And Balzotti will be free to replace Malenkov.