Opinion

SHOHAM GEVA
EDITOR IN CHIEF

CLAIRE BRYAN

AND REGAN DETWILER
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS

LAURA SCHINAGLE
MANAGING EDITOR

420 Maynard St.

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

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“S

o the men turned from
there, and went toward
Sodom, while Abraham

remained
standing before
the LORD. Then
Abraham
came

near and said,
‘Will you indeed
sweep away the
righteous
with

the wicked? …
Far be it from
you to do such a
thing, to slay the
righteous
with

the wicked, so
that the righteous fare as the wicked!
Far be that from you! Shall not the
Judge of all the earth do what is just?’
” — Genesis 19:22-25

One person should not be punished

for the acts committed by another.
Most people, regardless of whether
they abide by the moral codes of
the Abrahamic religions, probably
agree with this basic moral principle
and therefore exclude collective
punishment from their conceptions
of justice.

Unfortunately, the Jewish state,

the Judge of all between the Jordan
and the Sea, has regularly imposed
collective
punishment
on
the

Palestinians. We could cite many
examples, from the killing of more
than 50 inhabitants of the Palestinian
village of Qibya in October 1953 to
the two major Israeli assaults on
Gaza since my Bar Mitzvah, in 2008
and 2014. But the example that I
want to highlight here is Israel’s
policy of punitive home demolitions,
whereby the Israeli military, the
Israeli Defense Forces, demolishes
the homes of Palestinians suspected
of crimes against Israelis.

The
IDF
began
demolishing

Palestinian homes as punishment in
1967, when Israel first occupied the
West Bank and Gaza. By the outbreak
of the first intifada (i.e., Palestinian
uprising) in December 1987, the IDF
had demolished almost 1,400 housing
units. During the first intifada, Israel
increased the rate of punitive home
demolition, destroying 431 housing
units as punishment in just four
years.

From October 2001 to November

2004, during the second intifada, also
known as the al-Aqsa intifada, Israel
demolished 628 housing units. These
628 units were demolished because
of the acts of 333 Palestinians, but
they were the homes of almost
4,000 people. Roughly half of the
homes
demolished
were
never

home to a Palestinian suspected of
attacks against Israelis. According
to the Israeli human rights non-
governmental
organization

B’Tselem, in only 3 percent of cases
did the IDF give the occupants prior

notification before demolishing their
homes.

To its credit, the IDF temporarily

stopped
demolishing
homes
as

punishment in 2005 after an Israeli
government report found that it
rarely worked as a deterrent for
terrorism — the avowed purpose
of the program — and instead only
further inflamed hostility. However,
the memory of its own governmental
report apparently faded, as in 2009
the IDF sealed two housing units
and demolished another in East
Jerusalem, causing 28 people to lose
their homes.

Since
the
summer
of
2014,

after three yeshiva students were
abducted and killed, the Israeli
government officially decided to
re-implement the ineffective policy.
In July 2014, the IDF demolished the
homes of two Hamas men suspected
of carrying out the attacks, leaving
eight people homeless, including
four children. By year’s end, the IDF
had demolished four homes, leaving
27 people homeless, including 13
minors. In 2015, 11 apartments
were demolished by official order,
rendering an additional 14 nearby
apartments uninhabitable, leaving
85 people homeless, including 43
minors. Since last October, the IDF
has demolished and fully or partially
sealed 36 homes.

Just last week, the IDF demolished

four families’ homes, punishing 28
people, including six minors, for the
actions of three Palestinians, who
were already dead at the time of the
demolitions.

Please pause to reflect on these

numbers.

How does Israel justify its return

to this policy? In November 2014,
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin
Netanyahu,
vowed
to
demolish

the homes of more families of east
Jerusalem attackers. He said, “We
have nothing against the residents
of eastern Jerusalem, but we will
not tolerate attacks on our citizens
and we will act against those who
do these things and against those
engaged in incitement … With a
determined and vigorous hand, we
will restore security to Jerusalem.”

That same week, the IDF released

this statement: “The destruction of
terrorists’ homes sends a sharp, clear
message to those who wish to harm
Israeli civilians and security forces,
that terrorism and causing harm
to innocents carries with it a heavy
price.”

A moment’s reflection reveals

how these justifications are totally
bankrupt. Rarely do these home
demolitions
amount
to
acting

directly against those who attack
Israelis,
because
typically
the

assailants
aren’t
living
in
the

homes at the time of demolition, as

Netanyahu is no doubt well aware.
Furthermore, home demolition itself,
the “heavy price” imposed by the IDF
for terrorism and causing harm to
innocents, amounts to terrorism and
causing harm to innocents. Hence
Israel cannot pretend to hold the
moral high ground over Palestinians
terrorists when it, too, engages in
terrorism and harms innocents.

Aside
from
transgressing

conventional morality, Israel’s policy
of punitive home demolition violates
international law (see here, under
the headings “war crime,” “collective
punishment”
and
“denying
the

right to due process” for further
discussion). The United States, for
our part, supports Israel as it runs
afoul of international law, to the tune
of billions of dollars in annual aid. So
long as the United States continues
to support Israel, you and I, insofar
as we pay our taxes, bear personal
responsibility for these illegal and
immoral punitive home demolitions.

Lastly, a personal note: As a Jew,

I am acutely aware of how anti-
Semitic regimes throughout history
— in Czarist Russia, Nazi Germany
and elsewhere — denied my people
our right to housing, and so I believe
it is a moral imperative to speak out
when this right is denied to others,
especially by the Jewish state.

During our Passover seders in

a few weeks, we Jews will both
celebrate the Israelites’ liberation
and our current freedom as well
as
observe
how
today
people

throughout the world still live in
slavery and oppression. It has been
my understanding throughout my
Jewish upbringing that, as Jews, we
are meant to feel others’ oppression
as our oppression, since we, too,
know what it is like to have been
slaves, to be forced from our homes
in Russia, in Germany, Poland and
elsewhere.

Perhaps one might argue that it

is not our duty, Americans and Jews
alike, to eradicate oppression from
the world. Very well, but let us at
least not participate in it. Let us, the
Jews, not repeat the crimes of our
historic oppressors by denying the
Palestinians their right to housing,
among so many other rights that
Israel denies them. We should
demand that the government of Israel
immediately
cease
demolishing

homes as punishment. In 1953,
following the Qibya massacre, the
United States temporarily suspended
all economic aid to Israel in order to
express its disapproval. The United
States should do so again now until
Israel agrees to end its policy of
harming the innocent for the crimes
of the wicked.

— Zak Witus can be reached

at zakwitus@umich.edu.

Israel’s punitive home demolitions

ZAK
WITUS

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EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

4 — Tuesday, April 12, 2016

W

hen I get home, my daily
routine usually involves
throwing
my
phone

on the charger
before
it
dies,

figuring out what
I am going to
eat and starting
on
whatever

homework
awaits
me
for

the
evening.

Given
recent

advancements
in
charging

technologies, my
phone
reaches

100 percent before I even sit down
to eat. Despite nearing the brink of
a dead phone battery every day, I
cannot remember the last time my
phone actually died.

However, I can tell you about the

exhaustion I feel every day when
I finally sit down for dinner. It is a
known fact that college students sleep
less than the general population. As
extracurriculars, student jobs and
GPAs become more important for
getting a job after graduation, this
trend seems to be here to stay. In
fact, it is quite commonplace for me
to hear my friends discuss pulling
multiple all-nighters in the UGLi
during finals week.

The technology we rely on to

conduct such exhaustive work has
advanced to a point that exceeds
our bodily output. While I sit on
my couch at 8 p.m., writing a paper
and fighting off the urge to sleep,

my phone and my laptop sit plugged
in, fully charged and ready to keep
working. As my roommate downs
a can of Red Bull in a computer lab
on North Campus at 2 a.m., the
computer he is using stares back
at him, seemingly unaware of the
concept of exhaustion.

This
dynamic
of
always-on,

always-ready
technology
has

created a society that never sleeps.
Students
clamor
to
work
for

technology companies despite the
impending
more-than-full-time

workload they know awaits them.
In the off chance we do catch
some Z’s, our phones often lie on
our nightstands, alive and ready
for work the moment we wake up.
While human beings physically
need eight hours of sleep per night
to function properly, I cannot tell
you the last time my phone sat docile
and in a state of sleep for more than
eight minutes.

As finals approach, this situation

will only get worse. The nature of
high-pressure, high-reward exams
forces college students to overwork
their power cores. In this context, it is
understandable to think of our brains
as computers; we try to cram as much
information into them every day
without stopping to think about the
recharge cycle necessary to power
our internal batteries. However, it is
important to remind ourselves of the
ramifications of these actions.

Consider your current phone.

Odds are good that you bought that
device within the past two years.

With the way cell phone upgrades
go, the odds also suggest you will
replace that device within the next
two years, if not sooner. Though the
batteries on these devices may seem
invincible while you use them, they
will be thrown away in less than
one-fortieth of the average lifespan
of a human heart. Unfortunately,
humans cannot swap out their hearts
for the iHeart 6S next year.

In
order
to
maintain
the

condition of our one and only
battery, we must turn off. Much
to our chagrin, there is no quick
charging, wireless charging or
battery swapping allowed. Sleep
is the only way to adequately
recharge our batteries for proper
functioning. As much as we like to
believe energy drinks, coffee and
Adderall can replace sleep, these
only serve to attack and weaken our
batteries themselves. It is tempting
to compete with our electronic
devices and their never-ending
persistence, but we must cede the
battle and shut down every day.

As I type this, my eyes are

beginning to tire and my thoughts are
starting to fade. My laptop’s battery
reads full, but I know there is no way
I can keep up until it dies. I’m asking
you to consider your battery the next
time you ponder an all-nighter. After
all, if it dies, there will be no way to
plug it in and recharge for your exam
next week.

— Elliott Rains can be reached

at erains@umich.edu.

Dead batteries

ELLIOTT
RAINS

E

very
semester,
I
spend
hours

researching classes and professors
before registering for the upcoming

term. I read course guide
descriptions
and
old

syllabi, talk to friends or
alumni who’ve taken the
classes
I’m
considering,

scroll through the lists
of best and worst classes
maintained
by
several

student organizations I’m
part of, read reviews of
the professors and classes
I’m considering on Rate
My Professors, and ask
favorite professors for their
opinions on courses and colleagues in their
department.

But information about some classes is hard to

come by. For small classes or those with highly
specific subject matter, I often find myself
relying on the opinions of one or two people,
which can cause problems because it’s almost
impossible to tell whether those few students
have given me a picture of the class or if they
represent the minorities at either end of the
spectrum who either loved or hated the class.
In other words, do they fall in the red, yellow
or green zones of this hypothetical bell chart
about a hypothetical class that does not exist?

There is, of course, a fairly simple way to

solve this problem — make course information
available for every class. In late March, the
University of Michigan released Academic
Reporting Tools 2.0, a new tool for students
that does just that. Well … kind of.

ART 2.0 provides basic information about

the major, year and school distributions, as
well as the pre-, co- and post-enrollment data
of every student who’s taken the class in the
past five years. It also gives their aggregated
course evaluation responses to at least two
questions: Their desire to take the course
and whether or not they learned a lot from
the course. For some courses, the site also
provides information on whether students
thought the class had a heavy workload.

The University has been using ART

internally since 2006, but, for the first time, in
March 2016, they made certain data available to
students. Releasing course evaluation data has
been extremely controversial among faculty:
The Faculty Senate voted in the fall to suspend
releasing the information to students until it
could draft policies to govern the information.

Physics Prof. Gus Evrard, who leads the

ART 2.0 project, told the Daily, “Originally,
we had some ideas of showing more
information, and then in consulting with
faculty colleagues we decided to step back …
there were some trade-offs that we needed to
make in order to get here.”

Despite the fact that access to any course

evaluation data at all is a win for students —
who pay to take these classes — the limited
amount of information available through
ART 2.0 substantially undercuts the site’s
utility. The course evaluation data provided
on ART 2.0 is exclusively quantitative and
never provides information on specific
professors — just classes.

The site includes aggregated answers to

just two of the four questions asked on all
evaluations. Strikingly, the omitted questions
are the ones that ask students to indicate
the degree to which they agree with the
statements: “Overall, this was an excellent
course” and “overall, the instructor was an
excellent teacher.” The site only reports the
percentages of students who “had a strong
desire to take this course” and “learned a
great deal” from this course.

The site only provides one metric that

assesses the quality of a course: The percentage
of students who polled that they either “agree”
or “strongly agree” that they “learned a great
deal” from the course. For one thing, I’m
not sure that I’ve ever not responded that I
“learned a great deal” from a class on a course
evaluation, partly because it’s a pretty vague,
broad question.

Even if a professor graded unfairly, almost

never engaged with students and aimlessly
rambled during lectures, I think it would be
hard not to learn a great deal from a course,
as long as my prior exposure to the material
was limited and I completed a majority of the
required work. I could probably “learn a great
deal” from a class just by doing the assigned
readings and studying for the exams.

But, because “learned a great deal” is not

defined in course evaluation questionnaires,
other students may interpret that question
differently. Some may respond according to
whether they learned a great deal relative to
what they learned from other courses. Still,
others may give unfavorable answers if they
disliked a class’s professor, even if they really
did “learn a great deal.” Some students may
associate learning with work and mark that
they learned a great deal even if they really
didn’t, just because the class kept them busy.
Because it’s the only metric of its kind reported
on ART 2.0, it’s almost impossible to infer what
students really meant by their answers.

Qualitative data, like students’ comments

to written course evaluation questions, would
serve as a far better indicator of course quality.
Written comments and course reviews would
provide a more complete picture of what
students did or didn’t like about a class, and
why. Students have different preferences and
learn differently. A lecture style that allows 85
percent of students to “learn a great deal” from
a course might pose a huge barrier to learning
for some students. That would be helpful to
know before signing up to take the class.

The idea that qualitative information would

be more useful for students is supported by the
fact that — at least according to the survey I
unscientifically conducted with 63 University
undergraduates — students already express a
preference for qualitative information about
courses and professors.

Thirty-three percent of people surveyed

responded that they are most likely to seek
information about a class (or a class’s professor)
from peers, older students or alumni, while 57
percent primarily use Rate My Professors, a site
that offers both numerical rankings and scores
on professor quality and written reviews about
professors and classes. Given that ART 2.0 went
live less than two weeks before I distributed the
survey, I did not include it as an answer choice.

Eighty-four
percent
of
students
said

they primarily use qualitative information
like reviews when using sites like Rate My
Professors. Students who talk to peers, older
students or alumni about courses are almost
certainly going to get qualitative information
like a friend’s description of his or her
experience with a class or professor.

This speaks to the main concern I have

with the new ART 2.0 site: By only providing
quantitative data — and not student comments
about teaching quality or course material
— the site fails to provide students with the
information that they find most useful to their
decision-making process.

There are, however, certain circumstances

under which purely quantitative data could be
useful — for example, for students selecting
a required class taught by several different
professors during the same term. In this
scenario, rankings of different sections taught
by different professors may facilitate easier
comparison. However, because ART 2.0 doesn’t
provide data by professor, it’s not even possible
to see whether more students “learned a great
deal” in Mitchell Dudley’s or Justin Wolfers’
section of Econ 101.

I understand that professors would be

hesitant to support a website that makes it
clear that, of all the professors who have
taught sections of a class in the past five years,
their students ranked them the lowest. But
professors can’t prevent students from making
enrollment decisions based on professors’
reputations among students. Given that many
students will be able to find information about
instructor quality by talking to older students or
clicking through Rate My Professors, it seems
that preventing students from accessing course
evaluation data on teacher performance only
lessens the chance that students’ enrollment
decisions will be based on a representative
sample of student opinion.

By
incorporating
more
qualitative

information
and
aggregating
more

information than exists through current
sources, ART 2.0 could prove incredibly
useful to students. The University has
indicated that the user feedback is likely to
shape future iterations of the site. I’ve used
the site, and the main suggestion I have for
its developers is simple: Provide students
with the information most likely to help them
make the best course decisions possible.

Besides, wasn’t that supposed to be their

goal in the first place?

— Victoria Noble can be reached

at vjnoble@umich.edu.

Enhancing course evaluations

VICTORIA
NOBLE