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The results of Harvard's study on the effectiveness of popular "social norms" anti-drinking advertising campaigns are being challeneged -- predictably -- by the National Social Norms Resource Center and by college administrators who have championed and supported social norms programs.

While academics throw numbers at each other, it seems appropriate to reflect on why college students go back for that fifth, sixth or seventh cold one before calling it a night.

Maybe it's pride -- that girl from down the hall can't help but be impressed. Maybe it's economics -- that warm feeling you get when you take careful advantage of no-limit drink specials. And, for some of us, it's tough to breakdance convincingly without taking on some funky fuel.

Fundamentally, it's because the liquor around campus is cheap, accessible and well advertised. This publication in particular pockets advertising fees from local bars looking to turn beer and shots into cash.

And there's nothing the University can do about it. Short of purchasing and closing area bars and reserving all available ad space in local newspapers, Penn will never be able to change the basics of the situation.

Taking a harsh view of the "four or fewer" campaign on campus, the Harvard study's results seem self-evident. Ads and flyers affect neither alcohol's price nor its availability. These campaigns encourage more talk about alcohol abuse -- but that's all.

Having just awarded the family of Penn alumnus Michael Tobin an undisclosed settlement after he fell to his death after a day and a night of heavy drinking, Penn clearly realizes the price in cash, blood and negative publicity that alcohol abuse carries for the victims and the institution.

Recognizing that the University is caught between the weight of its responsibility and its inability to strike back effectively, a new strategy comes to mind. Share the burden with the entire community. Focus not on drinking rates and numbers, but on consequences.

Everyone who's taken a late-night trip to the hospital or spent time at a friend's bedside, bucket in hand, listening for the rattling that comes as vomit begins to clog a windpipe doesn't necessarily remember these golden moments. The University could do worse than remind us.

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