As a sports fan, I have taken note of almost daily bad news about collegiate athletics -- the seemingly endless stories of rule breaking, violence, drugs, and outright corruption, as well as the excessive expenditures (known as the "arms race") for teams, facilities, and coaches. It seems that the way that we as a society attempt to deal with athletic excesses resembles the war on drugs. No one really believes that we can eliminate drugs or big-time athletics, so we occasionally penalize certain behaviors, cry "shame," and merely tweak the edges of the problem.

In the case of drugs, we alter marginal rules like how much marijuana use constitutes illegal behavior. Similarly, in athletics, we have an encyclopedia of rules -- for grades, test scores, and behavior -- that we amend every few years, and then pretend to have allayed the problem. Meanwhile, we continue to satisfy the perverse urgings of colleges and universities for the prestige, publicity, and money that sports programs supposedly bring.

That's why I read with particular interest the results of a national poll of public opinion, conducted by The Chronicle recently, in which two-thirds of the respondents said that "four-year colleges anduniversities place too much emphasis on athletics." Barely more than a third of those surveyed said that sports were somewhat or very important for colleges and universities. And, when asked to select among 21 goals for colleges and universities, people ranked "play athletics for the entertainment of the community" dead last.

Do most people really think higher-education institutions focus unduly on their sports programs? Do they really want to change and reform intercollegiate athletics? The enormous commitment to intercollegiate athletics by most of the nation's highly rated institutions, large and small, would indicate that academics and athletics are very related. Otherwise, we wouldn't do it, right?

The question of whether big-time intercollegiate athletics is in conflict with, or connected to, the best expectations of college life in America has so intrigued me that, well before the publication of the Chronicle poll, I ventured forth on my own totally unscientific survey. More than a year ago, I began to engage friends, neighbors, e-mail contacts, athletes, sports fans at games, strangers on planes, and even telephone solicitors ("Say, let me ask you a question ... "). And I found that people just love to talk about this topic.

"Tell me," I'd begin, "how does intercollegiate athletics serve the purposes of higher education?" With few exceptions, the first answer was, "It builds school spirit." Academic sophisticates phrased it as, "It builds a sense of community."

Then I would ask, "Assuming that to be true, what does that have to do with higher education?" Blank stares were followed by a look that asked, "Are you weird or something?" That was followed by a stumbling, "Well, you know, it's fun. I mean, you know, it's like what college is all about: It makes you feel part of something."

I learned that at Duke University, students are so "spirited" by the basketball team that they have to wait overnight in tents supplied by the university for the few tickets available to students. When a neighbor's son visited Duke as a prospective freshman, he asked (at my suggestion) whether that was true. A high-ranking university official proudly told him that it was true and that "it was part of the spirit-building at Duke."

I read that the University of Memphis, winner of men's basketball's 2002 National Invitational Tournament, with a student body of 18,000 and a basketball arena seating 20,000, has sold more than 17,000 season tickets to "nonstudents." That leaves only about 2,500 for spirited students. One could conclude from such data that most students are scholars and not basketball fans. Yet what colleges rarely comment on, but what is widely noted, is that many of those 2,500 student tickets at Memphis, like those at Duke and elsewhere, are so hard to get that they are scalped for hundreds of dollars, openly advertised in classified ads.

Isn't the "spirit" argument a bit overdone? After all, many outstanding colleges and universities have mediocre to poor athletics teams, and the overwhelming number of people attend institutions where athletics is barely on the radar screen. I confess that I went to such a college, and all I remember is that during the only football game I attended during my four years there, the punter on our team kicked the ball backward over his head. (I hasten to add that our basketball team was jailed for fixing games, so we were not entirely out of the shenanigans loop.)

The next most frequent response to my informal survey was that sports raise a lot of money for higher-education institutions. That makes sense, but unfortunately it is not true. What is especially not true is that success in athletics encourages alumni and other fans to donate money to regular academic programs.

The NCAA estimates that college sports earned about $3-billion in 2000 but spent $4.1-billion. Many colleges would close down with a cost-benefit ratio like that for their academic programs. Very few institutions, including those in Division I, make enough to cover the costs of their athletics programs. At about 50 top powers, enough is available from football and basketball to support other sports teams and to embellish athletics facilities. But more typical is the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities, one of the largest in the nation, which has subsidized its $41-million budget for athletics programs to the tune of well over $10-million a year from state and university funds. In fact, the athletics-department deficit has been projected to reach $21-million in the next five years. Academic purists might be alarmed to know that, according to the Star Tribune, Minnesota athletics units employ about 70 people in administrative positions, and that the university buys parking from the athletics department for $1-million a year.

People who answered my informal survey unfailingly turned next, and aggressively, to what they felt was a clear academic plus: "A lot of young people who ordinarily would not get an education are given an opportunity." Many compared athletics scholarships as similar to those given for musical talent. (Surely there must be a better example than music, but that was the only one mentioned.) From there it took just a few seconds for people to add, "and so many of them are minority students who might not otherwise get admitted." This was usually followed by a "gotcha!" smile.

"That is a point that may make you feel good," I responded, "but instead of raising and investing millions of dollars in athletics plant, promotion, recruiting, and staffing, why not use those billions to give need-based scholarships to minorities who can choose or not choose to play a game, just as an academic scholarship does not require you to major in a specific field?" I haven't gotten an answer to that one yet, except for that stare that says, "You gotta be kidding."

I tried to get a rise out of people by equating athletics scholarships with affirmative action, but few took the bait. Many of the people I spoke with knew that the graduation rate for athletes at universities with big-time sport programs was poor (zero in some cases of Division I basketball teams). They also had read of the special courses and tutoring for athletes, as well as the pressures on professors to give them unmerited good grades. But few seemed offended because the players allegedly "do so much for their schools." (Build spirit, raise money, I presume.)

Moreover, those I spoke with frequently pointed out that intercollegiate athletics are demanding, and student-athletes don't have time or energy to study. To the millions of nonathletes who worked their way through college, this probably sounds like so much palaver. Nevertheless, I found a sincere belief among people that athletics does demand extraordinary commitment and requires athletes to be off campus several days at a time.

Next in line of responses was something like this: "Sports teaches sportsmanship, team building and sharing, winning and losing, prepares you for the real world and stuff like that." But shouldn't you be taught most of those behaviors at least by grade school? If pushed, I noted that it is clear that the notorious basketball coach Bob Knight missed kindergarten because his sportsmanship skills feature screaming obscenities, manhandling players, and throwing furniture.

I always hated to ask this obvious question, but I did: "What would happen to a history or biology professor, or a clerk in the registrar's office, who cursed at students, put them in a stranglehold, or threw a chair?" A smirky smile and sigh of disgust accompanies the typical response: "Well, that wouldn't happen, and anyway in sports you get caught up in the emotion of the game and so much is riding on it for the coach." Really? And how does that benefit higher education?

In a search for better answers, I called and wrote several times to the NCAA and asked for any material they had or could recommend that indicated the benefits of intercollegiate athletics to higher education or demonstrated its consistency with academic values. A senior official -- who will remain unnamed, but who was direct and honest -- finally called me back. He essentially told me that magazines and newspapers, especially The Chronicle, are anti-athletics and only print the bad news, and that claims by some in higher education about "academic values" are largely undefined and illusory (to put it nicely).

The NCAA official also contended that complaints about the poor academic performance and class attendance of athletes can be compared with the poor teaching of some faculty members and their own frequent absences from campus. In addition, he pointed out, a coach who doesn't win is fired -- the only such victim on a campus. Finally, he said, the model of physical education in schools and colleges has given way to professionalism of sports as a skill and livelihood, bolstered by huge financial considerations -- "just like most academic disciplines."

The last point is most important. Don't we all go to school to improve our chances for a livelihood? Aren't colleges and universities expected to adjust to new and growing career fields, like information science, and isn't sports one of the richest business enterprises in the world? Support of the economy is clearly one of higher education's greatest contributions.

One need not be an economist to appreciate the place of all levels of sports in the national economy. Just consider its role in construction, manufacturing, tourism, transportation, media, entertainment, and advertising. It is huge and unstoppable.

While few college athletes make it into the professional world of megadollars, many do get jobs in coaching, community health-and-recreation programs, and the business world. Such results are not without merit nor unworthy of academic support. What is wrong with wanting a career as a professional athlete? Or a related enterprise? We could offer more academic majors or minors in various aspects of the sports world that could rival many existing academic majors or minors. Then we could grant credit, and perhaps modest pay, for playing on a team while in college -- much as we do for internships in other fields.

But do I hear any meaningful cry for change from the NCAA, the athletics conferences, the presidents of colleges and universities, the boards of trustees, the faculty members, the students, the legislators, the media moguls, and the millions of fans who watch and bet on games? Of course not. They may pay it lip service, but I find their meager utterances unconvincing.

That's why, whatever people may say in polls and surveys, we'll just keep reading articles like one in The Chronicle quoting Tonya Moten Brown, then vice president and chief of staff of the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities, who bemoaned the deficits generated by her university's huge athletics program and the movement toward eliminating minor sports like gymnastics, golf, tennis, wrestling, and swimming: "There is a sense that we are eliminating opportunities in those sports that still retain what is noble and pure about amateur athletics, at the expense of dealing with sports ... that every day look more and more like their professional counterparts." She hoped that someone would resist the pressure and "stand up and take this on."

Sorry, Ms. Brown. Many people have taken it on -- and they like it just the way it is.

Milton Greenberg is a professor emeritus of government at American University.