SCOTUS strikes down law banning academic weapons in school zones
In a landmark 54 decision, the Supreme Court struck down the Weapons-Free School Zones Act of 1990, ruling it unconstitutional and finding in favor of plaintiff Alfonso Lopez, a student previously deemed an “academic weapon.” Congress’s argument was best encapsulated by Solicitor General Days’s impassioned defense:
The unchecked proliferation of academic weapons has created a toxic and psychologically hazardous learning environment in schools across the nation. This is evidenced by an epidemic of anxiety and diminished self-esteem among non-weapon students, resulting in increased healthcare costs—something Congress cares deeply about—and decreased national productivity, a clear burden on interstate commerce.
The case began when a panicked classmate reported Lopez to authorities upon observing him writing a proof during lunch. A search of his backpack revealed a lethal quantity of academic rigor: a pristine planner, six celsiuses, and flashcards on a topic he was studying independently. He was quickly convicted, the prosecutions’ case hinging on a single, damning piece of evidence: Lopez’s Instagram story, tagged #academicweapon, which showed him studying in the school library at 7:03 AM.
After serving six months, Lopez appealed. The Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals overturned his conviction, but the United States government sought certiorari with the Supreme Court, which subsequently cleared Lopez. In a passionate dissenting opinion, Justice Breyer warned of the anarchy to come. “The majority fails to grasp the sheer disruptive power of a student who reads the textbook before lectures,” he wrote. “By stripping schools of the right to arrest these individuals, we will see GPA skyrocket to unprecedented levels.” The crux of his argument rested on the principles that a court must consider the cumulative effect of all actions, in his words “a nation of asocial nerds incapable of sustaining conversation,” rather than merely the harm Lopez is capable of.
Despite these protestations, on college campuses across the nation, previously clandestine academic weapons have emerged from the shadows. Here at Carnegie Mellon, De Fer has reported a 45% spike in caffeine consumption, and students are checking out books from Hunt Library for the first time in years. Reception of these changes is mixed, with many criticizing the raising of standards. “Where does it end?” asks one student, Radi Cull Luftyst. “No one is saying you can’t have a number two pencil. But do you really need a high capacity binder? These are weapons of mass instruction the founders never envisioned. They wrote with feathers plucked off the nearest chicken, not South Korean gypsum chalk.” However, one non-weapon who wishes to remain anonymous had this to say:
Look, the old policy was a feelgood measure that only disarmed the good students. A criminal isn’t going to follow the rules against having semiautomatic scheduling software. And if there’s one thing I know about overachievers, it’s that they hate competition. The only thing that can stop a bad academic weapon is another weapon.
Meanwhile, university administrations have begun encouraging teachers to work harder in order to counter the weapons, claiming that the increased difficulty of tests will allow teachers to cut weapons down to size. “The good thing about failing everyone, even the weapons, is that we can equalize them,” said Professor Greggo. “If you studied for twenty hours and got a zero and Jimmy next to you skipped every recitation and tied, we can curve you both up to a C-, which is all a CMU student needs.”