REVOLT VS CONVENTION

In a community as overburdened with clubs and societies as is Harvard it is noteworthy that the activities of these organizations rarely gain publicity. Probably due to the fact that formal publicity is not needed, for Rumor has a far greater circulation than any known publication, it is also to be explained by the character of those activities. Dealing almost entirely with prejudices, personalities, banalities, and petty emulation they are singularly uninteresting to all but the amateur lobbyist. Yet occasionally some action merits passing notice as showing a trend of thought or a tendency in college life.

Such an action was the recent amalgamation of the Hasty Pudding Club and the Institute of 1770, DKE. And of a similar nature is the decision of the Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity to become a final club under the designation--and presumably with the convenient gold charm--of the Falcon. But the tendencies shown in the two cases are almost diametrically opposed to each other. "Hinc" it might be said if the point of view maintained were sufficiently detached and crocodilian, "hincillae lacrimae."

The amalgamation it was thought by optimists pointed to a growing feeling of the absurdity of what must be bluntly called the club system with its complications and its segregation. Affecting only a small section of each class and accomplishing nothing radical, it was nevertheless of a definite nature. It gave a lead to whatever other groups wished to follow and it aimed, within its own circle, at a wider relationship and a healthier atmosphere.

But the appearance of another final club, in full panoply of exclusiveness, closed doors, restricted membership, and all, perhaps shows all too clearly the strong undercurrent in undergraduate social life--the prevailing wish not to see others but to refrain from being seen. The specific club cannot, of course, be criticized for changing its name and classification. Only it seems unfortunate that in choosing to follow the existing final clubs in these two features it should have chosen to follow them also in its organization and policy.

That the objections to open house are strongly asserted by older men who might have been expected to forget such things may be useful in sustaining them but makes the basic point of view scarcely less childish. It is the point of view of "Don't come in to my back yard"--a sentiment one could expect from Penrod only in his most egotistical mood.

And being puerile the point of view is in its essence capable of provoking only mirth, or at most pity. Unfortunately in its application it is more unpleasantly effective. For under the system that it dictates an undergraduate may, as the result of an injudicious decision be completely absorbed in a group of vaguely congenial acquaintances and be denied the privilege of hospitality to his friends. Whether he drifts into the current of circumscribed congeniality or whether he exerts himself to lead a double life is of course a thing of his own choice. But the restrictions that exist, whether evaded or complied with, inevitably mar the healthiness of the social atmosphere.

With such a situation existing it is scarcely encouraging to realize that the feeling for exclusiveness is still basic and determining--that the average undergraduate still believes that he can attain distinction for himself by extinction of others.

But probably it isn't so very dreadful after all, except as showing that boys will be boys--and men, men. It has been said in refutation of the "Golden Age" theory that the first man born into the world killed the second. After that he probably formed a club, and excluded his children, who probably formed separate clubs and excluded everybody they could think of. All of which finally led to the Tower of Babel--the paradise of clubs where nobody had to talk to anybody because nobody spoke the same language!