Male-Only Final Clubs Are Just Weird

Growing up in Australia, it was more normal to attend single gender high schools than it is here. I went to an all-boys school, and we were often reminded that at university, you’ll have to get used to the reality of integration.

Strangely, the United States does the opposite: More students attend co-ed primary and secondary schools, but in college, students tend to segregate into fraternities and sororities — or, in Harvard’s case, single-gender final clubs.

It seems that when Americans leave high school, they’re eager to finally segregate by gender. But people have become so resigned to the tradition of fraternities and sororities that they ignore the potential harms — especially within male-only clubs.

In all-male environments, misogynistic attitudes can go unchallenged, sexual assault has been alleged at elevated rates, and the most prestigious networks remain closed to women. And by reinforcing toxic norms, they often harm men as well. So what’s so uniquely appealing about male-only clubs?

Sophomore fall introduces students to the clubs through “punch,” when clubs slip letters under sophomores’ doors, inviting them to a series of cutthroat social events where they compete for membership.

Although there are co-ed and female-only clubs, the most storied and prestigious ones are male-only. As recently as 2016, though largely forgotten today, these male-only clubs were blasted by the University’s Task Force on Sexual Assault Prevention for “deeply misogynistic attitudes” and cultures of “sexual entitlement.”

One statistic was crucial: 47 percent. In 2016, 47 percent of graduating female seniors who’d participated in final clubs and 31 percent of all graduating female seniors reported “experiencing nonconsensual sexual contact since entering college.” Both figures are disgustingly high, but the discrepancy suggests that female students who interacted with final clubs were just under one and a half times as likely to experience sexual assault (Clubs have disputed these claims). Still want to join?

The University imposed sanctions on members of single-gender organizations beginning with the class of 2021, barring members of final clubs from captaining athletic teams, leading certain student organizations, or receiving endorsements for prestigious postgraduate fellowships.

Clubs faced a choice: be inclusive or be sanctioned. Only one male-only club became gender-inclusive; another briefly admitted women but quickly revoked their membership after a graduate board vote. But the Porcellian — the most historic and prestigious final club on campus — came to the defense of its all-male history.

In their response, a statistician hired by the 234-year-old club refuted the task force’s findings and recommendations, rejecting its conclusion that final clubs were the main causes of sexual violence on campus.

The Porcellian had a right to defend itself against these damning statistics. But their response wasn’t just about the issue of sexual assault; it seemed to be part of a broader strategy to keep women out of the club.

The then-graduate board president wrote that the club believed “in the need for, and the value of, single gender institutions for men and women as a supplement and option to coeducational institutions.”

That argument could apply to female-only clubs because of their demonstrable value. Women’s spaces are often created in response to the discomfort and fear for safety that women regularly face in a male-dominated spaces. Plus, Harvard didn’t formally admit women for nearly three centuries, meaning that the clubs offering the most advantages — through prestige and connections — are male-only. There is a legitimate need for, and value of, female-only clubs. But that argument doesn’t apply to men’s clubs.

Tradition or not, excluding women from organizations is still a discriminatory practice that gives male students advantages unavailable to women and allows misogyny to fester.

In my experience, male-only environments harm men as well. The pressures of a stoic masculinity meant many found it more difficult to express their emotions, to form close relationships, and therefore to mature emotionally.

The inclusion of women won’t magically solve all these problems, and we shouldn’t expect women to pick up the slack. But their inclusion is a necessary step.

I understand the appeal of final clubs: Much of Harvard’s social scene revolves around them and they offer valuable, often lifelong connections. There are legitimate reasons for Harvard men to join these clubs unrelated to individual sexist beliefs, but my jaw wouldn’t drop if that was still a factor for some.

So if you do get a letter under your door, at least consider the implications of joining organizations with allegations of misogyny, sexism, and sexual assault. But even if you’re skeptical about the bad reputation of male final clubs, it’s frankly just weird that these clubs are so desperate to exclude women. Is that really the hill that’s worth dying on?

Harvard gave up on fighting the inherent sexism of male final clubs — you shouldn’t.

Luke D. O’Brien ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Social Studies concentrator in Eliot House.