Most students don’t give a damn about Cornell’s Code of Academic Integrity. That is, until I see them shaking uncontrollably, sobbing hysterically, scared that one mistake or misunderstanding has ruined the academic record they have worked so hard to build. I have sat on the Academic Integrity Hearing Board of the College (AIHB) of Arts and Sciences for two years — the group which hears appeals of all violations of academic integrity in Arts and Sciences courses. I have seen how students’ legal and moral rights have been violated by a few professors who should know better. I have witnessed how the ambiguities in Cornell’s Code of Academic Integrity have caused leaders around campus, straight-A students, and most often, students who never had any intention to cheat to be convicted of violations of academic integrity. Our code is deeply flawed — its inconsistent application leads to excessively harsh punishments for some, none for others, and injustice for all Cornellians.

The vast majority of appeals to the AIHB aren’t from our peers who write notes on their hand before tests or copy and paste paragraphs from the internet. Rather, they are average students who made an improper citation in an essay or received homework help from an “unauthorized” source. Students are rarely accused of plagiarism or cheating gratuitously and without evidence. But even cases that are technically violations of the Code are never black or white.

Is asking your friend or parent to comment on your paper the kind of “unauthorized help” banned by the Code? I have asked my roommate for grammatical advice when writing an essay, but I have not had the bad luck of many who have been punished for just such an offense. Our Code sees no distinction between a person who copies Wikipedia word for word and another who cites a particular book so frequently as to “plagiarize” the author’s analyses. Cornell punishes violations large and small, intentional and accidental, with the same black mark on your record. If this principle were applied to our justice system, jaywalkers and rapists would receive equal punishments for their crimes.

But students are not the only ones who have trouble abiding by the rules: Professors often fail to follow the procedure of the code with no consequences and zero accountability. In several cases within the past few years, professors have intentionally ignored their responsibilities and cheated students out of the due process guaranteed to them by the Code. Some common violations are as simple as failing to notify the accused student with a week’s notice before a primary hearing. But more egregiously, there have been cases where professors have demanded that students forfeit their right to appeal in order to avoid a harsher grade penalty. When a professor willfully ignores the rules that students are held to, the AIHB has no power to remedy the situation.

While the AIHB decides whether to create a disciplinary record for a student depending on its verdict, Cornell’s Faculty Senate has refused to automatically overturn grade penalties when the board finds a student “not guilty.” A stubborn professor can ignore the findings of the board and force a student to file an additional grade appeal with the Dean of their college. Perhaps worst of all, a professor can threaten his or her students and deprive them of due process. Sadly, the AIHB must sit idly by and ignore entirely the professor’s actions when deciding the merits of an appeal.

There are a few quick fixes that can cut down on some of the injustices in our system. If a student is found not guilty of a violation, the registrar should automatically remove whatever grade penalty the professor instituted. If the University finds that a student did not commit an act of plagiarism or cheating, it is arbitrary and capricious for a suspicious professor to lower that student’s grade. Additionally, our Code treats unequal violations with uniform severity. With a tiered system of penalties, we could separate unintentional and less significant acts of plagiarism (improper citations) from more severe misconduct by giving warnings for the least offensive violations. But the largest problem with the Code is that it does little to nothing to stymie the widespread problem of cheating at Cornell.

Professors neither have the time nor the resources enforce the Code of Academic Integrity. Moreover, they aren’t at Cornell to be enforcers of a strict set of rules — they’re here to teach us about Number Theory and postmodernism. We, the students, need an honor code that gives us the responsibility of upholding the integrity of our University. A hundred sets of eyes can monitor an exam for cheating far better than just a few. Skeptics might underestimate how determined Cornell students are to keep a level playing field. But after an all-nighter at the library, pre-med Pam will be more than happy to tell Lazy Larry to stop consulting his Blackberry during the exam. Students, not professors, have the most to lose from violations of academic integrity. A system that relies on one professor and maybe a few TAs to monitor anywhere from dozens to hundreds of students is inherently flawed. In an age where it is possible to buy original papers on the Internet, clever enough students get away with cheating on a regular basis. As it stands, our code doesn’t punish all cheaters — just those who are bad at it or unlucky enough to get caught. Cornell is in dire need of accountability, consistency and a commitment to justice from students and professors alike in our system of Academic Integrity.

Gabriel Dobbs is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He may be reached at gdobbs@cornellsun.com. Smooth and Confident appears alternate Fridays this semester.