Solution needed for rising textbook costs

January 28, 2008 —

I understand the staggering cost of textbooks isn't anything new. I'm also aware that complaining about the prices is up there with bemoaning the lack of campus parking in terms of originality. That doesn't mean it isn't still an issue.

With that said, we're at a point where complaining about the cost should be coupled with a logical solution. So do I have one? Absolutely not.That's because I'm still not entirely sure where all of this money is going.

During my first semester at Delta roughly six decades ago (has it been 57 years already?), the head honcho of the bookstore was kind enough to pay a visit to one of my classes.

He came equipped with a spiel and several graphs and charts explaining exactly how the bulk of our checking accounts had been distributed when we bought our books.

The gist of his lecture was that venues such as eBay and Half.com were evil and college bookstores were saving us stupid kids from being conned by people on those sites willing to sell the books at prices that didn't induce strokes. As an aside, he was later fired for unknown reasons.

Moving away from bar graphs and bookstore scandals, one of my texts this semester cost $140. It's a paperback and is missing features necessary to warrant the cost, such as the ability to transport matter or make Italian bread.

Nowhere outside of a college setting could a publisher get away with charging that kind of coin for a paperback book. If Borders tried to sell the same book at that cost, the patrons would riot with a barrage of scones and $7 vanilla coffee.

Maybe this would be easier to digest if the costs could be better justified. As it is, most new editions hardly seem different from their predecessors. Publishers are able to repackage the same basic material, slap in a few new entries, toss in a couple (full-color!) photos and voila; they're able to present the book as something "new."

Much of this frustration could be alleviated if there was a hope you could recoup a decent portion of your money when you sell them back.

But as most students know, the bookstore buy-back conversion rate is insulting. A book you paid, say, $120 for a couple of months ago should bring back enough money to buy a bottle of Sprite. Most times, instead of swallowing my pride, I'll just keep the book. Some well-meaning professors like to suggest that's exactly what you should be doing with your pricey textbooks, claiming they can serve a purpose outside of the classroom.

I'd like to buy into that. But only in some alternative universe is the ninth edition of Essentials of Geology on a bookshelf really what completes your bedroom.