THE PENTAGON had its $800 "directional impact devices" (hammers) and its $400 "waste delivery systems" (toilet seats). The Science Center has its $50,000 wet rocks. And now the Business School has a $47,000 cable television. Or should we call it an "entertainment distribution complex"?

The TV is installed in Shad Hall, a fitness center that brings new meaning to the term "conspicuous consumption." If pre-bankruptcy Donald Trump decided to build a gym, Shad Hall would just about fit the bill.

Actually, the $47,000 was spent on cable installation for the TV. So now, Business School students who get bored with jacuzzis, saunas, steam rooms, a dozen squash courts and an indoor track can watch ESPN on a small set hung high above a bar.

Only a select few in the Harvard community can enjoy the TV. Entrance to swanky Shad Hall is limited to card-carrying Business School affiliates--about 1,200 students and 260 faculty members.

So if every student and faculty member used Shad on a regular basis and watches the TV, the B-School has shelled out $32.19 for each of them. If each student and faculty member has spouse who watches the set, it will still cost the Business School $16.09 person for a glimpse of the Financial News Network across a crowded room.

Of course, it's highly unlikely that all 2,920 people who might be eligible will get their money's worth form the overpriced set. And anyway, this small pool represents only a fraction of the number who must use the much less luxurious Malkin Athletic Centre.

BASED ON what we know about the Business School, none of this is too surprising. Shad Hall and the pricey TV are just glitzy symptoms of the B-School's selfish policy.

Never much of a team player, the Business School has a tradition of overspending and letting few outsiders enjoy the benefits. And a cushy endowment makes it easy for B-School officials to horde money for their self-sufficient tub while poorer grad schools struggle.

It's all quite appropriate for the Business school. Its graduates will go on to be corporate CEOs, traveling around in corporate jets and eating in executive dining halls. In fact, while B-School grads will sweat their executive sweat in cable TV-equipped executive gyms, many American wage-earners will be out on the street--king of like Harvard students who can't get into Shad Hall.

At least the Business School is trying to get some money back form the cable installation. Now that the cable company wants to take advantage of the initial cable purchase and connect lines to a nearby apartment complex, B-School officials are crying foul.

Knowing the B-School's record, its claim will probably bring in at least a few bucks. This somewhat mitigates a ludicrous purchase that shouldn't have been made in the first place.

Harvard Real Estate (HRE)--which owns the apartment complex--seems willing to comply. HRE President Kristin S. Demong recently told The Crimson she thinks the B-School's request for compensation is "reasonable."

We think so, too. But even more reasonable would be a Business School that avoids unnecessary spending at a University that could afford to pinch its pennies.