Everyone knows that college costs too much these days. Student debt has spiraled out of control. Professors can’t do much about tuition, but we can at least mitigate the added burden of expensive textbooks. We’re starting to make some headway. A bunch of colleges, including mine, are moving to open-access resources.

The textbook industry hates this idea, obviously. But you know what? Fuck ’em. I’m sick of textbook reps interrupting my lunch and prep time, so they can sit down and try to sell me on another shit textbook. Or worse, try to convince me to publish a custom edition with them. “Here’s the deal, you write everything, we’ll publish it, and then we’ll give you back one whole dollar for each copy you require students to buy.” For years, I humored them because deep down they seemed like nice people. But nowadays I avoid them as much as possible.

The average textbook is like your weird uncle trying to hit on college students on spring break. He offers obsolete “tips” for success, tries to make pop culture references that nobody understands anymore, uses lingo from five years ago, and then asks you for 85 bucks, and maybe a blow job?

Students know when someone uses a condescending tone. They can’t stand it. They don’t want a textbook written by their creepy uncle who tries to sound like Ryan Gosling. They want one written by Ron Swanson.

You see, Ron Swanson doesn’t waste your time trying to sound cool. He doesn’t spend five pages explaining a simple concept because he thinks you’re stupid. No, Ron Swanson gets to the point.

Students appreciate that. They have busy lives, and they don’t need a textbook to sound like Teen Vogue, or their BFF explaining physics. They need someone who values quality, simplicity, and efficiency. Nobody does better at that than Ron Swanson. That’s why people love him.

Ron Swanson would scoff at textbook prices these days. Some of the ones in my field cost $150. Science textbooks might cost $250 or more. The average college student takes 5 classes a semester. That means some of them are spending almost $2,000 per year.

Multiply that by five, and you’ve got $10K. Almost the cost of a car.

Textbook reps make all kinds of excuses when I mention the absorbent cost of their materials. Many of them even have rehearsed lines about meal plans, dorms, and tuition. “Nobody ever complains about room and board, but textbooks are the first thing they pitch a fit about.”

Hey, they’ve got a point. Lunch at my campus cafeteria costs $10. Unless you hit up McDonald’s. That’s cheap — exactly what Ron Swanson would do. But let’s be honest. In terms of textbooks, students are already consuming McDonald’s. Most in my field are bloated, super-sized Big Macs with little mental nutrition of substance.

All of that’s to explain why many of us academics are about to flip textbook publishers the bird. We care about our students, and we don’t want to see them suffer so that some textbook author can buy a sports car.

And I’m not kidding. Some of the most successful textbook authors in our field make a killing. Many young professors dream of publishing a textbook that becomes adopted by colleges nationwide. Some of our older mentors did that, and now they have summer homes and horses. A few of them even brag about their textbook royalties. It’s disgusting.

A couple of years ago, I did have the chance to write a textbook. Some textbook reps and editors attended one of my conference presentations. They took me out to dinner that night at a restaurant so fancy it made me nervous. Seriously, I couldn’t even pronounce half the shit on the menu. You know someone’s wining and dining you when the place doesn’t list the prices for entrees. They did have a gorgeous view of the ocean though. Everyone should have the chance to eat at a place like that once in their lives. Fifteen minutes of decadent luxury.

Ron Swanson would’ve hated that restaurant. They didn’t even serve bacon, eggs, or sausage. It was all rare bird and shell fish.

A week later, I began drafting my million-dollar textbook. But what I started has turned into an open access project.

So, textbooks should be free, and they should be good. Ron Swanson would approve. In his honor, I’ll name my book, “Very Good Textbook For College English Students.”

Within ten years, I predict open access may eclipse traditional textbook models. That will put a lot of textbook reps out of work. But so what? I can’t say I’ll feel sorry for them. I’ve only met one or two textbook reps that had even a passing familiarity with my discipline. Most of them make me want to cry. They don’t read our journals. They don’t teach. They don’t do much of anything except push the tenth edition of this or that 400+ page tome, now with extra grammar drills and online tutoring support. Their websites and online supplements and “digital solutions” just suck.

For years, I’ve cobbled together my own readings and loaded them into various content management platforms. Now that I’m a little closer to tenure and have some breathing room, I plan to buckle down and collaborate with other professors to make some really nice, open-access online texts that could be used by anyone.

We have the tools now. Building websites has never been easier. We have all kinds of publishing and editing technologies at our fingertips. So let’s finally pool our resources and start making our own educational materials. We don’t need detached, clueless publishers and profit-hungry elitists reinforcing a broken model. Producing quality, open-access textbooks won’t be easy, or quick, but we’ve got to start moving in that direction. So hang a portrait of Ron Swanson above your desk and get typing.