Cross Anderson Bridge and you will see a different side of Harvard. Enter the athletic complex and you will find a space for education unlike any classroom this side of the Charles.

Nearly one in six students make this daily trek to find community, to develop personally, and to contribute to the College as a whole. We like to call these students “student-athletes.”

But what is the “student-athlete?”

According to the Buffalo Law Review, the NCAA conjured up this “ubiquitous watchword” in response to court cases that threatened to dub college athletes employees. Since the 1950s, the “student-athlete” epithet has evolved to carry several connotations—preeminent among these is the jock stereotype, leading to heated debates on admissions, recruiting, and the role of athletics in higher education.

Over this past month, new debate about athletes as employees emerged, further obfuscating the meaning of the “student-athlete.”

Revisiting the problematic history of the student-athlete, football players at Northwestern University have petitioned the National Labor Relations Board to unionize. Should the students succeed, thousands of American college athletes who bring in billions annually would be recognized as employees under the law.

The students are not pushing for a so-called “pay-for-play” plan, but instead say that they want programs and academic institutions that are going to be looking out for them. College athletes are often subject to the whims of their athletic programs, with only basic regulation from the NCAA. They must often jeopardize their academic success in order to accommodate their sports. They live with the reality that their athletic program could withdraw their scholarship at the crack of a limb.

Harvard, however, plays by different rules. Harvard—as a member of the Ivy League—has demonstrated a commitment to the well-being and the education of its athletes. Supported by strictly need-based aid, Harvard athletes need not fear the arbitrary withdrawal of financial support, even if they were to quit their sport altogether.

Furthermore, Harvard fervently promotes support structures such as the Bureau of Study Counsel and AAPEX, Harvard’s sports psychology and counseling office. Crimson athletes are privileged and supported thoroughly and consistently by Harvard, but the recent push to unionize college athletics has resounding implications for this campus too.

At its core, the culture surrounding the “student-athlete” is flawed. Something must change; that much is clear.

The University of North Carolina demonstrated the consequences of this defective culture multiple times this year: Athletes reportedly passed a class they did not attend, a  school learning specialist alleged that many basketball and football players read at the level of middle school children, and the same specialist called the cheating she witnessed “overwhelming.”

Lest we think Harvard has escaped these problems, let us not forget the athletic ties in Harvard’s recent academic integrity scandal, which has prompted the drafting of a new honor code. Further issues have been realized as colleges move to recruit middle school students.

Something must change, but perhaps unionization is not the answer. An employee status would provide several necessary protections for athletes, but it would also come at a certain cost.

Treating college athletes as employees would alter the way colleges interact with them, only exacerbating the cultural divide between student and “student-athlete.” More importantly, treating athletes as employees tears at the foundation of their educations. Why not simply hire athletes and scrap their classes altogether? Because college athletics should be about far more than fundraising.

Athletics are about self-development, teamwork, and education. If universities and their alumni boosters see it a different way, that is problematic, but the answer to this problem is not for college athletes to play along as employees. If Northwestern athletes are found to be employees in the law, then athletic culture itself must be scrutinized.

NCAA chief legal officer Donald Remy argues, “This union-backed attempt to turn student athletes into employees undermines the purpose of college: an education,” and I must reluctantly agree. For as much as I would like to defend student-athletes’ interests, I cannot help but see this as a step away from “student-athlete” and toward “athlete,” rather than toward “student.” Universities ought to understand their obligation to student-athletes, just as Harvard has.

Harvard’s athletic department states its mission as “Education through Athletics,” to which there can be attributed no greater justification for sport. It is the reason I practice every day and the conviction behind my force: not employment, but education.

For without education, what is the student-athlete?

Samir H. Durrani ’17 is a Crimson editorial writer in Straus Hall.