Nobody likes telemarketers. Okay, well, maybe a few people do: advertising executives seem to like them-and of course, the telephone jockeys themselves must have some measure of self-respect. Yet, they must at the same time be aware of how annoying it is to be called at home, perhaps in the middle of something important-like a meal, a movie, another phone conversation, or maybe an earth-shattering orgasm… Indeed, some members of the Varsity’s staff have even suggested that a modern revision to Dante’s Inferno might include an extra circle of hell set-aside specifically for those who like to sell us things via the telephone.

Would such a fate await those in the University’s Administration whose job it is to ensure that alumni are harassed in their homes so that U of T has yet another way to make some quick cash (as detailed on the front page of Nov. 20th’s Varsity)?

Seriously, why is telemarketing such an issue? Not only is it annoying, but it also involves a serious ethical question: do large organizations, such as the University of Toronto, have the right to profit by trading people’s personal information?

For most of us, this is a no brainer-the answer is a loud and resounding “No goddamn way! What are you? Stupid?!”

But for a few of us, the matter is still something of a moral gray zone, and for still fewer, there’s nothing at all wrong with appropriating people’s personal info, using it for a purpose they never intended or agreed to, and then annoying them at home in their private time.

This tiny, confused minority of the population defends their actions with the most hackneyed of arguments. One might argue, for instance, that if no personal information is actually sold that it’s somehow okay to give it away, or pay other people to use it, even if the end result is the same. One might also argue that there’s nothing wrong with trying to sell people a good product, never mind if it means annoying dozens of uninterested people to find one who actually wants to buy it. These, and other arguments, can be viewed in detail in the letters to the right of this editorial.

In the end, there’s only one argument that is worth any attention at all when we ask if U of T should be participating in any kind of telemarketing to students or former students: the university needs money. Universities always need money. But does the university really need to make more money by selling things to students and former students? U of T already spends a lot of money on pretty new gates and “world-class” profs who raise the reputation of the university, with little or no attention to the rising cost of tuition, student debt, or the increasing dissatisfaction of undergrads with the quality of the instruction at this university. Should we put up with yet another attempt by this university to squeeze more money out of us by abusing the personal information we’ve entrusted it with?