It’s the last few seconds of the quarterfinal of the World Cup. Tied 1-1 after regulation, the opposing teams have already played through most of the 30 minutes of additional time, and the game looks certain to go to penalties.

As the clock ticks to zero, your team has one last corner to defend and the opposition scrambles to score the winner. The ball heads toward the net and you find yourself standing on the goal line, the last line of defense. What do you do?

Would you take the high road, desperately flailing with your head and body as you attempt to save it legally? Or would you realize this would only lead to you watching the ball hit the back of the net and take a more drastic move, punching it clear with your hands? In short, would you cheat to keep your team alive?

Luis Suárez faced exactly that situation in South Africa, and his actions earned him a red card for a clear breach of the rules, but also kept Uruguay in the tournament at the expense of Ghana. The play was shown over and over again on TV, and many lambasted him for this clear case of gamesmanship. Few, outside of his home country, accepted the notion that he really had no choice.

So what would you have done? Is it ever OK to cheat?

As Stanford students we are bound to abide by both the Honor Code and the Fundamental Standard in our time on the Farm. The former concentrates solely on academic matters, and, I roughly paraphrase, it says that students should not cheat or knowingly allow others to cheat. The latter sets a broader code of conduct for students and stresses “respect for order, morality, personal honor and the rights of others.”

In the extreme, breaking either of these could lead to expulsion from the University.

Most all Stanford students are here for academics first, but for many the athletic department is also a huge part of their life. The demands of varsity sports are no different than those of professional sports, and so is the pressure. Many student-athletes across the country are quite literally playing for their futures, and a bad performance, or a string of them, could lead to them losing their scholarship, losing their education and losing everything they have worked and trained so hard for.

A rare few succumb to this pressure and cheat in extreme ways: taking steroids and illegal drugs that could directly threaten their health, cynically lashing out at their opposition when the refs aren’t looking, even taking bribes to lose games. Most have been involved in some form of gamesmanship; all have turned a blind eye when the referee has surprisingly given a wrong call in their favor.

The exam hall is, though, no less competitive than the sports field. Like it or not, you are competing with everyone else in that room, hoping to be graded ahead of the curve. Intimidating other students, seeking to deceive the examiners and gain an unfair advantage or bringing in banned equipment would all be considered a breach of the Honor Code and dealt with as such. Knowing that someone else has done any of these, but doing nothing, would be viewed in a similar light.

Regardless of the setting, these also break the spirit of the Fundamental Standard, even if that setting is the football field, baseball diamond or basketball court. Staying silent when a referee makes a mistake might be one thing, knowing that one of your teammates engineered that error through deception or intimidation but still keeping quiet is altogether more serious. And before you view this as a rant against athletes, I include all of you in the stands, too.

Every fan has berated or at least criticized a referee for a bad call that has hurt their team. Few have done the same when getting a lucky call. Maybe they’ll admit later, with some embarrassment, that the referee got it wrong, but they’ll more than happily reap the benefits from that mistake.

While blatant acts like Suárez’s “save” are comparatively rare, this form of subtle dishonesty is deeply ingrained in all sports. The Honor Code and Fundamental Standard might scream in protest, but the upside of this is that the cheating is so widespread that the playing field remains surprisingly level.

It’s difficult to say it is alright to cheat in sports, but trying to hold players and fans to the same high standards we supposedly set ourselves away from the field seems an almost impossible task. Perhaps Stanford’s code of conduct needs a get-out clause, something to distinguish the sports arena not just from the exam hall but from the real world, too.

At the very least, we should remember not to feel too wronged when we are caught for some infringement and not to be so outraged when our opponents aren’t.

Cheating might not be okay, but it’s a fact of (sporting) life.