The idea that today's panhandlers are a modern-day version of Depression-era entrepreneurs who sold apples on street corners is a bit far-fetched.

If Monday night's meeting of the Urbana City Council was any indication, the proposed ordinance to ban aggressive panhandling, particularly in troubled southeast city neighborhoods, is going nowhere fast.

A lone citizen, an older woman using a walker, urged the council to pass the ordinance, charging that aggressive panhandlers target the "elderly and the infirm" by making intimidating requests for money. But a troupe of ordinance opponents lambasted the proposal as reflecting a societal war on the poor aimed at solving a problem that exists only in the minds of unjustifiably nervous seniors.

By the end of the evening, Urbana Mayor Laurel Prussing proposed a decision be delayed so that the ordinance could be rewritten rather than rejected outright.

Alderwoman Diane Marlin, the only clear supporter of the ordinance on the seven-member council, noted that Champaign has an ordinance banning aggressive panhandling and contended that businesses in the Sunnycrest area are being adversely affected because some of their customers are going elsewhere to avoid panhandlers.

But the clear council majority, including Aldermen Robert Lewis and Charles Smythe, seemed clearly affected by statements like those from former University of Illinois professor Belden Fields, who bemoaned the "heartlessness of it all."

Obviously, perception has become reality here. Opponents of the legislation perceive panhandlers as individuals merely seeking, in polite terms, financial help for innocuous purchases — like bus fare. Proponents of the legislation see the problem in an entirely different light — panhandlers acting in an intimidating manner, refusing to take no for an answer and becoming verbally abusive if refused.

It shouldn't be hard to distinguish one from the other. Perhaps Mayor Laurel Prussing, who proposed the ordinance, can come up with some reassuring language that will win majority support.

In the meantime, property owners can ban panhandling by posting "no soliciting" signs. If they think it's a problem, they ought to do so.

It's hard to accept the notion that the panhandling that has drawn so much attention is innocuous. If it was, why would Prussing and Alderwoman Marlin be wasting their time on this measure?

The problems in southeast Urbana have been well-documented — fights, gunfire, robberies. The city's job is to eliminate the problems before they spread to other neighborhoods.

That requires not just addressing big problems, but lesser ones like aggressive panhandling.

Here's why.

Aggressive panhandling establishes a tone that tells its perpetrators that infringing on other people's space and rights is OK. It sets the stage for escalation.

It's analogous to the "broken windows" theory of urban policing, where city officials quickly repair a broken window to prevent the spread of the idea that more broken windows are acceptable. It's why New York City Mayor Rudolf Giuliani cracked down on minor misconduct as part of his successful campaign to improve the city's quality of life.

Despite the critics' claims, no one is trying to oppress poor people. This is a community with many active volunteers who, on a daily basis, assist those on the lower end of the economic ladder. But all individuals, including panhandlers, have an obligation to do their part to make our society liveable. It seems hardly too much to ask that aggressive panhandling be discouraged through an ordinance.