Harvard lacks a social center. Or so the pundits say.

Earlier this week, the Undergraduate Council pledged $25,000 toward the construction of a new "student center," a building which is supposed to provide both a social gathering place and an office space for student groups. While this donation is largely symbolic, its sentiment has been echoed by students across campus. Not since the construction of the Second Temple has a building been so eagerly awaited. Will social life perk up once the final stone has been laid? I seriously doubt it.

The mistaken premise behind the student center is that Harvard students have the time, or interest, in being social. In reality, we don't want to hang out unless there's a productive sense of accomplishment in doing so. We don't want to party. What we really want to do is study-study all the time, in all sorts of kinky positions, with our closest friends. Give Harvard a new student center and what will people do? They will bring their sourcebooks there.

It's high time we started being realistic. The only real student center at Harvard is the one we've all been going to, every week, since we first arrived here: Lamont Library. Why create a whole new building when one already exists? It's pretty hard to avoid Lamont. All the books you need for classes, papers and even pleasure are there. On any given night, some large fraction of the student body is trapped within that somber edifice, sweating it out in solitude. The clientele is already there; all we need to provide is ambiance.

With a pinch of decorating savvy, some hype and publicity, Lamont Library could easily become the student center everyone craves. Here's what we can do to make Lamont a livelier, more sociable place:

If Lamont is going to become the new social center of Harvard, a few things will have to change. The e-mail kiosks will have to go. E-mail is not conducive to socializing, not by a long shot. Nor is standing in line for 40 minutes while some of checks the ESPN Web site. In the new Lamont, the computers will run only one program: www.datesite.com . No Hollis Plus. Not even Hollis. If you want to find a book, ask someone.

In the new Lamont, the Woodberry Poetry Room will become a space-age bachelor pad. It's not far from that already, what with all its dim lighting and lime-green upholstery. Throw in a few lava lamps. replace those retro record players with an expensive sound system and you could really jazz up the place. Who wants to hear recordings of old poets creaking through their greatest hits? In the new Lamont, all the poetry will be read by Barry White.

To give credit where credit's due, Lamont has already taken steps to create a sociable atmosphere. As I'm sure you all know, people from southern climates are much friendlier than those from the frigid north. When it's warm outside, you can relax on the veranda with your friends, sipping sangria and gossiping about your neighbors. Lamont must be striving for a similar tropical atmosphere. Why else would the thermostat always be set on 80? Shed your layers, overprotected Harvard students. It may be freezing outside, but it's sultry within.

What Lamont needs more than anything else is a coffee bar. Blame Barnes & Noble for initiating the trend, but it's become impossible these days to dissociate books from coffee. Just think how inviting Lamont would be if it had its own espresso machine. I can see it now...Cafe Lamont: open 5 p.m.-midnight on weekdays, 8 p.m.-2 a.m. on weekends. Reserve reading becomes just that much more exciting when you've got a warm cup of java, a pretentious pastry and unlimited free refills. With the opening of Cafe Lamont, Harvard's social scene would improve immensely. You've probably all heard the line, "Gee, I'd love to go out for coffee, but I really need to study in the library tonight." Well, now you can go out for coffee and study in the library at the same time!

Lamont could easily find an eager partner for this venture. The aggressive little C'est Bon, which has recently entered an expansionist phase, would probably love to open a concession in the library, thereby paving the way for a C'est Bon in Widener, the History Department's tutorial office and your very own bathroom. If space is an issue, the library could easily accommodate Cafe Lamont by bull-dozing those sketchy fifth-floor classrooms. Who uses them anyway?

The only real objection I can foresee is the obvious one: Students will sneak coffee out of the cafe and soil the books. This problem is easily overcome. Install a checker at the door-if you inspect people's bags and jackets, hardly any food or drink will escape into the stacks. Besides, people are sneaking food and drink into the library as it is. A wet book is not a dead duck, but an undercaffeinated student is a miserable thing.

Someday soon, people will learn to stop worrying and love Lamont. Slip into something sexy, grab your backpack and hit the stacks. A whole new world awaits.