At the start of my second year, I decided to hang out with some engineers for a night. I figured it would end with some beer at Einstein’s and a drunken stumble home. Instead, I ended up sneaking into several very-locked buildings, seeing the campus from the top of the McLennan Physical Laboratories, and being identified by the campus police as the “only guy not dyed purple” as they pursued us. It was an interesting night—just a tiny taste of what engineers are capable of after the sun goes down.
Groups of engineers in the artificially- lit sub-basement of the Sanford Fleming building have different answers when asked about their late-night shenanigans. Some think it’s stupid and don’t participate. Others quickly say that “Nothing happens. Nobody exists!” and return to their textbooks. One group of students do acknowledge that after-hours pranking is very much a part of engineer culture but then goes tight-lipped on the details. A director of the Engineering Society (also known as Skule), who identifies himself only as “Steven,” reveals very little.
“Some pranking happens. Sometimes. Late at night.” He gives the example of the frequent repainting of the UTSU building’s roof. When confronted with rumours of a secret engineering pranking society, he quickly responds that “It does not exist, has never existed, and will not exist” as his colleagues snicker behind him.
Such a society is very active on campus, according to one wellconnected engineer, who has requested to be identified only as “Shelly.” The Brute Force Committee, or BFC, is a secret society of engineers that are devoted to “all kinds of mischief” and “keeping up Skule spirit.” These are the unknown engineers who cement hardhats all around campus. They’re the ones responsible for repainting UTSU’s dome and the V For Vendetta characters on its doors. To them, practical jokes are an art form.
Shelly says that the engineers’ pranks typically fall into two categories: the first is campus beautification projects, such as covering the campus in pumpkins around Halloween or replacing Zoom Media’s washroom advertisements with fine art. Second are the “How’d They Do That?” pranks, such as delivering a 2.5-tonne monogrammed concrete block to Waterloo’s engineering building or covering Con Hall in a giant spider web.
“We’re not about hurting people or being bad—we’re all about school spirit and getting people into it. Even when we pull pranks, it’s never about damaging or hurting.”
His argument is a lot more convincing after he shows me the BFC’s secret web page. Accessed through a number of convoluted steps, including a fake company’s web site, the site is a comprehensive guide to all of the BFC’S activities. The web site has records of their activities going back to 2000. Last year, they left a full-size Trojan horse on McMaster’s front lawn, which, in turn, was delivered to Guelph. They’ve even built a gigantic pencil sharpener for OCAD’s giant coloured pencils.
The BFC are pretty serious about their practices. Their web page has a thorough guide to safe and effective mischief—telling new engineers about what defines a good or bad prank, the different varieties, and making sure they know not to drink and prank. Both Shelly and other engineers acknowledge that the BFC’s activities have been a bit tamer in recent years. Rappelling off buildings—a former staple of BFC life—hasn’t been as common since an engineer at Queen’s was killed while rappelling drunk a few years ago. But getting into locked buildings, Shelly says, is still a regular activity.
“Some doors are broken, or we prepare the doors before the buildings are locked down. There are also the steam tunnels underneath the school—but if you get caught down there, you’re gone.”
Being caught by campus police has always been a threat to the BFC. Shelly speaks with fondness of the days when the BFC’s secret ministers could tell the old campus sergeant, Sergeant Cox, that it was a pranking night and they wouldn’t have much trouble. Nowadays, it’s a little rougher.
“They’re not as bad as everyone makes them out to be. It’s best not to focus on them,” says Sergeant Sam D’Angelo, the operations manager of Campus Community Police, declining to comment any further.
To combat shoddy pranking, the BFC has a very thorough “pranker’s code,” a document that was approved by all nearby engineering schools. Though some schools— such as Waterloo—don’t have much respect for the code, the BSC abides by them, says Shelly.
The rules make sure that everything is done in good fun—no pranks should be permanent, nor should they break or damage property, and each group always agrees to clean up afterwards. One unnerving section of the code, however, talks of proper conduct for kidnapping—but it’s mostly about making sure the kidnapped person is cooperative and well-fed. The code is guided by two main principles: respect and a desire to make other schools think “Damn, those crafty bastards!”
Engineers can get a lot of grief, so Shelly understands why some people wouldn’t trust their pranking.
“Some people take it too seriously— engineers and [non-engineers]. But it’s best not to. We’re just having fun.”
If the morning-after results are any indication, indeed, they are.
