Freeze Extracurriculars Now

It's 1993 and we no longer live in a bipolar world. Deterrence is no longer the watch-word of the American national security establishment. Instead, the experts tell us, the challenge of the 1990s is guaranteeing non-proliferation of weapons of mass destruction.

Though no one would suggest that Harvard has a problem with factions of students getting their hands on nuclear devices or chemical weapons, non-proliferation should be an important goal on our campus as well.

I speak of extra-curricular non-proliferation. There's no sense denying it. Harvard has far too many extracurricular activities, publications, musical groups and public service organizations. Everyone and his roommate is a social chair, an associate editor or a "manager" of one stripe or another. Though there is no real harm in the proliferation of titles per se, the proliferation of so many organizations has left virtually every organization understaffed, and talent has been spread thinner than vegemite on a piece of melba toast.

The campus is awash with posters announcing too many comp meetings, advertising too many concerts and soliciting too many submissions, while clogged kiosks sag under the weight of information overload.

The only way to restore sanity, stability and quality to Harvard extracurricular life is the same way diplomats now want to insure world peace: non-proliferation agreements. Thus I suggest that every undergraduate be forced to sign, along with her "no-hazing" disclaimer, the Extra-Curricular Non-Proliferation Treaty.

Preamble: Whereas there are entirely too many extra-curricular activities at Harvard;

Recognizing that not everyone can be a supervisor;

Affirming that quantity can sometimes be inimical to quality,

I hereby promise to abide by the following terms and conditions to prevent the spread of superfluous extra-curricular activities...

That's just a standard pre-amble. Here's the beef, so to speak:

I. A Capella Freeze Clause: No one may found a new a Capella group, until an older one has fallen out of existence. There may be no "theme" groups. For the purposes of this treaty, an a Capella group does not only mean a close-harmony vocal group that sings without accompaniment, but any ensemble that can sing "House of Blue Lights" with a straight face and a clear conscience.

A capella groups are among the most destabilizng extra-curriculars, the Harvard equivalent of ICBMs. A group can burst into a dining hall and smother innocent bystanders in audio cheese before the unfortunate diners can even say "doo-wop." As for "theme' groups, the craze has gone so far that last year posters solicited recruits for a lesbian a capella group. In any case, imagine a group with all the smarminess of a regular group, but which pulls from a tiny talent pool and restricts the already-tired a capella repertoire to thematic tunes. Enough said.

II. Ethnic Unity Clause: No magazine or organization which claims to "provide a forum" for a particular ethnic or religious group is allowed unless there are at least 10 members of that group at Harvard for every one titled position.

This provision would check any attempts at magazines like "Borcht und Sauerkraut: The Journal of Volga-German Americans at Harvard."

III. Any new humor magazine must be funnier than the last issue of the rag.

This regulation has a simple elegance to it. Harvard's shortage of humor is acute enough as it is, without breaking up the funny few into a multiplicity of mediocre magazines.

IV. The Uniqueness Clause: There may be no new publication whose mission substantially duplicates that of another.

There is no excuse for putting out two magazines (or sponsoring two organizations) that cover essentially the same material just so there can be twice as many editors-in-chief and circulation directors.

IVB. The "Tabula Rasa" Corollary: Having no mission does not constitute a unique mission.

Last year, a group of intrepid would be editors announced they were accepting submissions of any length on any topic for their new journal. Pretty sneaky, guys, but that loophole is closed.

V. Thespian Restraint Clause: There can be no more plays/musical operas running at Harvard at any given time than there are on Broadway.

Harvard students are a talented lot, but to assume that there is more depth on Mt. Auburn Street than there is on the Great White Way is more than a little arrogant.

No treats can long stand without effective enforcement. To that end, the Harvard community must be prepared to take actions against violators commensurate with the sanctions the international community levies against nations which flout nuclear and chemical weapons proliferation treaties. We must blockade all shipments of ink and paper to renegade publications. We must boycott shows put on in violation of the treaty. Pagemaker will be contraband technology for those who do not sign, and Kinko's will be off limits.

We must be prepared to use force to dislodge those resume-padders who tenaciously cling to their offices and titles despite the edicts of the non-proliferation treaty.

It would be unreasonable to take such drastic actions against extra curricular proliferators without offering them assistance. If Russia needs international aid to disassemble its stockpile of nuclear weapons, members of superfluous Harvard organizations should be given similar support.

I propose that upon ratification of the treaty, the Undergraduate Council set up a publication called "The Harvardian. A Forum for Issues of Concern to People." Anyone can sign up to be an "Executive Editor," or "Associate Director." The Harvardian will come out once per year. Its contents will be a list of all the Executive Editors and Associate Directors.

We would save enough paper that we might not even need the Environmental Action Committee anymore.