Too Much of a Bad Thing

Come fall, if you drink too much at the Cambridge Queen’s Head (the new College Pub), you have every right to hold Dean of the College Benedict H. Gross ’71 personally responsible. That is, if you can prove that he is, indeed, Dean of the College. But Dean Gross doesn’t exactly have the same ability as a random undergraduate to shrug responsibility under Harvard’s new alcohol policy and deny having a leadership position in a social club.

The College’s new policy on social clubs reveals a fundamental disconnect between the intent of the administration and its ability to implement the policy behind the philosophy it supports. This past fall, two Harvard kids almost drank themselves to death—literally—at events held by student groups. Surely this is symptomatic of a larger ill in the culture of drinking at Harvard: Kids here follow the “work hard, play hard” motto with an intensity that isn’t surprising for a student body not exactly known for its relaxed disposition. The policy, however, does very little to cure the illness, and instead provides an exaggerated and misdirected treatment for its symptoms.

While drinking at Harvard often verges on the “hardcore,” few students would intentionally drink themselves into a 0.4 blood alcohol concentration (BAC) and an emergency intubation. The policy, however, rides on the principal finding of the Committee on Social Clubs—a body established by Dean Gross—that declares “undergraduates view excessive drinking…as an accepted feature of college life, and do not appreciate the very real risks that this kind of behavior entails.”

The Committee’s answer to the apparent substance-based moral depravity and ignorance of the student body was a policy that holds the leaders of student groups personally responsible in front of the Administrative Board of the College if harm befalls a severely-intoxicated student at an event held by that group. The policy also superfluously codifies a preexisting “amnesty policy” that grants protection to intoxicated students and the faithful friend or friends who get them medical help.

The policy is fundamentally misdirected and might prove to be ineffective or harmful. The report of the Committee on Social Clubs reveals the skewed logic and justification behind their recommendations. Reading the policy between the lines yields one very obvious goal: The College is trying to crack down on hazing and final clubs. This is made obvious by the inclusion of “unrecognized” student groups. Final clubs—which are unrecognized by the College because they are single-sex—are Harvard’s social powerhouses and traditionally involve heavy drinking during their “punch” events and at their parties. (One of the near-fatal drinking binges this fall was at a final club punch event.) Thus, the policy seems to be a poorly masked attempt to control the unsafe drinking environment at final clubs.

Before we all salute Captain Obvious, it’s worth pausing and wondering how on earth the College plans to enforce such a policy. Considering how prominent final clubs are on campus, their leadership and inner goings-on are notoriously secret. In my research, I e-mailed four current or former “punchmasters” of different final clubs asking for comment and received no replies, indicating that the notorious “gag order” on final club officers talking to the press might actually be as much fact as fiction. The Committee report itself acknowledges the difficulty in “identifying the current officers” of the clubs but seems to ignore the fact that this problem will undoubtedly persist when the new policy is implemented. Approached by a member of the administration, any undergraduate could easily deny holding a leadership position in a club.

The policy indicates that the College administration vastly underestimates the social forces at play for students. Those students who undergo a sort of amalgamation of an admissions and hazing process in order to gain membership of clubs are under a great load of self-inflicted social pressure. Out of the 200 or so students punched for male final clubs every fall, only between 15 and 25 are normally asked to join.

In a milieu where students voluntarily subject themselves to judgment and competitive social weeding, it is safe to assume that few would “out” social club leaders to the College and compromise their own punch. Punches want, above all, to curry favor with the leadership of their desired club. Club members want to protect their club-mates and friends from punishment. Knowing that club heads could face the Administrative Board if an intoxicated student is brought to University Health Services serves as a disincentive to seek medical attention, especially if students are drunk enough to underestimate the severity of someone’s condition.

Without leadership rosters, and with club loyalties, the College’s policy is crippled. The weight of this policy is going to fall right past the shoulders of final clubs and other non-recognized social clubs and will land on recognized student groups that hold social events. These organizations—such as Harvard Model Congress, the Harvard College Democrats, and The Crimson—provide invaluable social outlets for those students who prefer to skip the bi-weekly parade through the mansions on Mount Auburn Street.

Because these student groups have public leadership, however, the College runs the risk of discouraging these groups from hosting social events with alcohol altogether. If the policy is enforced, it places inappropriate responsibility for every partygoer on select individuals. If the policy is not enforced, then the College will have to admit to not being able to solve the problem it set out to eradicate.

Harvard’s stance on final clubs is notably hands-off because it does not officially recognize them, but aside from the Cambridge Queen’s Head, the alternative social spaces the College provides are laughable. Given the choice between hitting the books at Lamont Café or the Beirut tables at the Fox, the administration cannot honestly expect the average college student to choose the former.

There is something wrong when the College refuses to take proactive measures on non-recognized social clubs and instead implements a “one size fits all” alcohol policy indiscriminately on all student groups. The new policy is at best, unenforceable and at worst, harmful. It is certainly an overdose of the wrong medicine.

Emma M. Lind ’09, a Crimson associate editorial chair, is a history and literature concentrator in Winthrop House.