A steady procession of failed ventures since Loker opened testifies to its enduring worthlessness. The ice cream parlor and candy shop are distant memories, but even Old Faithful, the coffeehouse, has closed. Now all that remains are such choices as a mediocre hamburger restaurant, whose motto may as well be "fast food served slow," and an entire stand devoted to all-natural smoothies and juices, evidently responding to the Harvard student population's clamorous demands for more overpriced drinks containing ginkgo biloba and spirulina.

Administrators have hired consultants to offer their advice on improving Loker's popularity. And yet, even the recommendations of these professionals have done little to reverse the area's descent into irrelevance. Of course, bear in mind most of the consultants we know are the same folks whom we last saw passed out after last year's Owl Luau. Indeed, the only innovation that has saved Loker Commons thus far, the introduction of the fly-by, arrived not by way of corporate strategy, but because of persistent student requests.

Well, if it worked once, maybe the powers that be might listen to another student's suggestion. One that will, guaranteed, result in an abrupt about-face of Loker's fortunes in ways unimaginable. The proposal is this: bring in outside fast-food chains to fill the place.

It just takes some common sense. Clearly, Harvard students will not hang out at Loker Commons just for the hell of it. There needs to be a reason for them to want to make a stop in the depths of Memorial Hall. Put something there that they can't get anywhere else--not more email terminals, or an open microphone, or another overpriced venture of questionable quality. Just bring in the old standbys. Taco Bell, Subway, Burger King, Boston Market. Enterprises that cater to students' schedules, wallets and tastes. Just show them in and watch the place blossom.

I know, I know. The mere mention of such establishments incites spasms of head-shaking and jowl-flapping among a certain hoary, wheezing segment of the Harvard and Cambridge community. The sticks-in-the-mud dredge up the same tired claim that bringing in large, proven businesses will sully the Harvard Square charm, that they will stain the Harvard University image.

First, they are one Abercrombie & Fitch store too late for the former argument. As for the latter--can the existence of a few subdued, subterranean chain restaurants in Loker Commons really do more harm to the University's image than, say, the recent Harvard Institute for International Development scandal in Russia, or perhaps last spring's New York Times article depicting undergraduates as unhappy, desk-bound losers? It would seem to me nothing could enhance Harvard's image more than a bold headline proclaiming, "Harvard Students Happy!" So why such resistance?

It may take some bureaucratic wrangling, but opening Loker Commons up to outside establishments is the only way that the space will fulfill its vast potential. It is the only way students will happily populate the area at all times of the day and night. It is the only way any semblance of Loker as a social center will be retained. And most importantly, it is the only way to ensure that at the next donor shindig, Katherine Loker is the life of the party, not the butt of the joke.