When I first saw Cambridge four years ago, I was hooked. I had found my “college town.” I eagerly awaited the moments of late-night binge-eating, drinks ’til dawn, unique shops, and life for those on a budget.

Instead, I got a 2 a.m. bedtime.

As every Harvard undergrad knows, there’s no food for the hungry in the wee hours of the morn, those bar doors are probably swinging shut at 1 a.m., and you might find a quirky shop among the many financial institutions in the Square, but your last dollar is not going to last long.

Sure, there are many reasons for this situation. Sky-high rent forces lots of businesses out, and not every owner wants to stay up late. And when it comes to placing blame, it’s hard not to look at the Cambridge Licensing Commission (CLC), which imposes most of these restrictions. But while it’s true that the CLC is a major part of the problem, we must also pay attention to the man behind the curtain—the Harvard Square Defense Fund (HSDF).

The HSDF formed in 1979, and it is “dedicated to preserving the scale, character, diversity, and quality of Harvard Square, the origins of which date back to 1630.”

This mission sounds like a reasonable cause. I grew up visiting Ann Arbor, Michigan, the quintessential college town, and its historically quirky character is a large reason for this designation. Certainly, an amount of historical preservation and protection is important to maintain a city’s identity in an ever-homogenous world.

But the kind of protection HSDF provides is often arbitrary and never meant for student benefit—in fact, HSDF seems to have forgotten entirely that Cambridge and Harvard grew up side by side. This has always been a college town.

HSDF’s influence grew far before it began pushing to restrict the operating hours of establishments like Felipe’s Taqueria and the soon-to-come IHOP. Though Grendel’s Den needed six years to gain a liquor license due to a state law “allowing a church to prevent restaurants from serving alcohol within 500 feet of its door,” the HSDF vocally supported withholding the license for even less convincing reasons—HSDF felt the Square already had an adequate number of restaurants selling liquor. Legal Seafoods’ entrance into the Charles Hotel was protested because of its expansion and encroachment into the public courtyard, a seemingly slight problem for a space already encased by a hotel.

These are the battles HSDF sees fit to fight. It was one of the first groups to speak up when IHOP made its decision to settle in the Square, but there were few motions against each of the new banks that have popped up in recent years. I suppose HSDF doesn’t believe that seven banks are more than adequate.

In addition, while many students would love a fast food chain or two to ease financial strain, Cambridge’s zoning laws do not allow it. However, as evidenced by the chains a T stop away, it seems that it is the fear of HSDF’s retribution and not the problems of petitioning that keeps the golden arches away.

A chicken nuggets fan myself, I could see the argument against these chains, if it weren’t applied so hypocritically. You might have noticed more than a few chains inhabiting the Square, such as Pizzeria Uno, Starbucks, and Au Bon Pain, the latter two having more than one location in the Square. Apparently Au Bon Pain is allowed because of its Boston-based roots. While the main location might gain an argument with its outdoor chess boards, the second restaurant is as unoriginal as any other chain, with the added treat of excessive prices.

Probably most painful to the college population is the total late-night city shutdown. All over America, students know the joy of sitting in a diner at 5 a.m., ruminating random ideas and runny eggs. Yet even though IHOP was content asking for a mere 4 a.m. closing, compared to its normal 24/7 schedule, HSDF objected and won. As the president of the HSDF, Ginny Nathans put it, “If there were going to be a 4 a.m. license in Harvard square, it wouldn’t be in IHOP.” The restaurateurs who try for anything past two, never have a chance because HSDF long ago made up its mind.

Surely, it’s important for students to respect the residents of Cambridge and try to reduce late night noise, but this respect should go both ways—we’re residents too. Cantabrigians might cut us some slack. You should expect some nocturnal sound in a college town, and we’re far from rioting in the streets.

HSDF has a worthwhile goal in theory, but in practice it is creating a sterilized Cambridge with little personality. By overly concentrating on restaurant-operating hours in the Square, it misses the chance to really hold onto some of the Cambridge character—I’m pretty sure those who live here won’t look back on their fond memories of Bank of America. More importantly, HSDF is creating a Cambridge that alienates the students who call it home.

It’s time for HSDF to stop being so reactionary and start considering compromises. We don’t want catastrophe and chaos at 3 in the morning. We just want a couple of pancakes.

Margaret M. Rossman ’06 is a English concentrator in Mather House. Her column appears on alternate Tuesdays.