Student tries to uncover mystery that is accounting
There must be a medical condition that makes students flunk accounting class. In a world where a college student can barely manage a checkbook, is it any surprise that we’re less than excited at the prospect of managing business finances?
COMMENTARY
Lauren Cates

There’s an ominous feeling of impending doom threatening certain members of the TCU community.

And it’s not the food at The Main.

It’s something much more serious and life-threatening. It’s something that some of us, regardless of race, religion, or intelligence level, are forced to take in order to proceed to graduation day. It’s accounting class.

And it’s not just any accounting class — its every accounting class. What advisors fail to mention to naive youngsters pondering a major or minor in business is the impending terror known as accounting. No, it’s not just some accounting 101 class they’ll breeze through; it’s financial, managerial and, for those of us with business majors, (gasp!) intermediate accounting.

I asked my professor why accounting was so important, and he replied, “Accounting is the numeric language of business. It is the foundation on which all business courses and businesses are built. This is true in for-profit and not-for-profit entities.”

Even that sounded scary.

My problem is that it seems that your average business student not pursuing a career as an accountant usually has no clue what is going on.

This is not a result of lack of preparation for class (though sometimes I’m sure that contributes), and it is not a reflection on TCU’s impressive accounting faculty or teaching skills. I feel personally that there is a physical ability that I, and many others, am profoundly lacking in, namely, the ability to comprehend what is going on in accounting class.

I think it should be a diagnosable syndrome, perhaps AADD (accounting attention deficit disorder). Regardless, it runs rampant in many accounting classes, reflected in poor attendance, note passing in class accompanied with giggles and talking, frantic cramming for accounting tests and often a subsequent flunking of accounting class.

Maybe the problem is with the problems we’re given in textbooks. Here’s an example: The controller of the Madison Plant of Jackson Industries has been analyzing costs of support departments to identify the major cost drivers and is seeking ways to reduce costs. Analyze the scheduling department costs using a scatter diagram or regression analysis. Comment on the usefulness of the results for pursuing cost reduction.

Problems go on to demand profit margins, variable costs as a percentage of revenue, cost allocation, cash disbursement budgets, annuities and much more.

Feeling a little lost? Now I’m no accounting moron, but these things seem baffling and incomprehensible. Perhaps it is the textbooks that need to be re-written to eradicate the epidemic of AADD. A new problem might go as such: Bobby Student has a problem with finances. Bobby is given $300 dollars for monthly expenses. He spent $150 of his allowance buying beer. He spent $50 of his allowance on fast food/getting someone else to do his laundry. If he invests $100 in the start of his own drug paraphernalia/fraternity boy clothing manufacturing company, and his investment triples, how long will it take for Bobby Student to drop out of college and devote full time attention to such an endeavor?

Accounting problems that apply to relevant college finance issues might peak more interest in the topic and lessen the effects of AADD. How can the average college student, at age 18-22, possible understand how to account for the finances of a large corporation? Some of us think balancing our checkbooks is a challenge. Maybe AADD was the real cause of Enron’s accounting mess; they probably didn’t know what was going on either.

For those of us gifted with an innate talent for understanding the mystery that is accounting, the problem of AADD is no problem at all. For the rest of us, until a miracle happens, we will be left to toil in the misery of a complex topic that perhaps years after the fact we will finally understand.

Opinion editor Lauren Cates is a junior advertising/public relations major from Houston.