Harvard, Cornell, and the Perils of Paternalism

Cornell University wants to rein in its fraternities. Harvard has played this game before.

In response to disturbing allegations of sexual assault at Cornell, administrators have suspended all fraternity parties for the remainder of the academic year.

It’s an understandable impulse, but a misguided one.

In 1984, Harvard demanded that its all-male final clubs admit women or forfeit the privileges of University recognition. Rather than comply, the clubs severed their ties with Harvard. The result was the peculiar arrangement we have today: Final clubs, littered throughout campus, remain fixtures of undergraduate social life, but operate independently of the University and largely beyond its oversight.

Harvard tried again in 2016, announcing sanctions against students who joined single-gender organizations. Members would be barred from certain campus leadership positions and denied College endorsements for prestigious fellowships. But the clubs persisted, and Harvard abandoned the sanctions amid legal challenges.

The lesson is that universities have considerably less leverage over students’ private associations than administrators might hope. Harvard tried to force the clubs to change, but instead lost what influence it had over them.

Cornell risks discovering the same thing.

Prohibiting fraternity parties won’t eliminate the demand for them. Students will continue to drink, socialize, and attend parties, whether in fraternity houses or elsewhere. And as those activities move into less visible settings, they may become harder for administrators to monitor.

There is, however, a deeper concern. College students are adults. Universities shouldn’t act “in loco parentis,” attempting to supervise every aspect of our social lives. The freedom to associate with whom we choose, to establish our own organizations, and to make decisions about our social lives is part of becoming independent adults. That freedom comes with risks, but it isn’t the University’s responsibility to eliminate every risk students encounter.

That doesn’t absolve administrators of all responsibility surrounding sexual assault. Harvard has an obligation to investigate allegations fairly, discipline students found responsible for misconduct, and provide meaningful support to those who report assault. As an anonymous op-ed submitted to The Crimson makes clear, the University’s existing procedures have plenty of room for improvement. Cornell’s promises to expand survivor support and strengthen investigations are considerably more constructive than its blanket prohibition on parties.

Nevertheless, administrators cannot manufacture a healthy student culture by decree. That responsibility ultimately belongs to students themselves.

But what exactly is that responsibility, here at Harvard’s campus?

To begin with, final clubs — and their party-going patrons — should seriously examine whether they contribute to a safe social environment. The best way for them to do so is by going co-educational.

It has less to do with the intrinsic nature of single-gender organizations, and more to do with the disproportionate power, influence, and social standing that all-male final clubs command. Putting women on equal footing in some of Harvard’s most influential organizations is simply fairer and produces better norms for everyone involved.

To that end, students in and outside the organization should remember their power. In the 1990s, a boycott organized by Women Appealing for Change helped put pressure on Harvard’s all-male final clubs. The Fly Club even voted to admit women, though it failed to maintain its unanimous assent a year later.

More important than the composition of any organization’s membership is the conduct of its members.

In particular, men need to hold other men accountable. As we explained earlier this month, misogyny and sexual misconduct flourishes under “pluralistic ignorance.” This phenomenon occurs when individual men remain silent about rape myths that they privately condemn, mistaking their peers’ silence for approval. All it takes to change those norms is sharing what most everyone is already thinking.

So, to our peers: Speak up, and don’t wait for administrators to speak for you.

This staff editorial solely represents the majority view of The Crimson Editorial Board. It is the product of discussions at regular Editorial Board meetings. In order to ensure the impartiality of our journalism, Crimson editors who choose to opine and vote at these meetings are not involved in the reporting of articles on similar topics.

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