Last week, The Dartmouth published two opinion pieces lamenting the recent crackdown on Greek houses that committed policy violations and decrying what their authors perceive to be the malicious administration’s latest attempt to cancel all fun and ensure that not a single underage human drinks a sip of alcohol. While Michelle Gil’s and Annika Park’s intentions are noble in condemning what they and others perceive as an affront to cherished traditions and friendships built at Dartmouth, their arguments betray a lack of critical thought all too common in defenses of the Greek system.
I am not writing in support of the administration’s recent efforts or to advocate for the destruction of the Greek system. However, I think that as critics of “Moving Dartmouth Forward” and paternalistic administrations we owe it to ourselves to be realistic. College President Phil Hanlon, Vice Provost for Student Affairs Inge-Lise Ameer and Dean of the College Rebecca Biron do not kid themselves into thinking that they can eliminate all underage drinking at Dartmouth. They are strategic, rational decision-makers who take great pains to conduct research on potential policy decisions. Their assertion that the Greek system promotes exclusivity is based in real social theory and one cannot dismiss it with the all-too-oft cited red herring “We have the most inclusive Greek system in the country.” If Dartmouth students are to defend Greek life against critics, they will need to drop the strawmen and red herrings and think more critically.
So let’s start by talking about alternative spaces. Gil posits that alternative social events “are not well-attended because they are not heavily desired.” Yet in student surveys there is consistent demand for better alternative social spaces. So let’s stop saying nobody wants them and think about the interaction between the Greek system and other spaces. Gil is absolutely right that students vote with their feet, and that Greek life continues to dominate the polls. Let us consider, just for a moment, why we might choose this option so consistently. Gil reasonably argues that college students’ high demand for parties and alcohol combined with the lack of in-town options for such carousal naturally push students towards Greek life.
But let us imagine Dartmouth without Greek life. This demand would not magically disappear, and as any economics student could attest, it would create large incentives for clubs and bars to open in Hanover, perhaps shifting Dartmouth’s party model to rely more heavily on in-town options (as is the case with many other schools). The argument “We go to Greek houses because there are no in-town options” is not exactly one upon which you would want your whole defense to rest. Dartmouth’s Greek life is as much an assurance of the sterility of Hanover’s nightlife as it is a product thereof. Now, we may argue, “But bars and clubs are 21-plus!” Does this stop them from dominating party scenes at other schools? No.
Gil further posits that student parties would be pushed into dorms. Ignoring the potential of bars and clubs cropping up to fill the void, this seems totally logical. She then insists that as parties move from Greek houses to more private spaces, the social scene becomes more exclusive. The saving grace of Dartmouth’s Greek scene to Gil is its relative inclusivity. “Dartmouth has one of the most inclusive Greek systems in the nation” is a useless argument. It contains the underlying assumption that Greek life, of one form or another, is a given. The comparison that needs to be drawn isn’t between Dartmouth’s Greek life and Penn State’s Greek life, but rather between current Greek life and no Greek life at all.
It’s easy to dismiss this, and most of us do, but if the Greek system is to be saved then we need to actually think critically about it and step outside of our own shoes. We need to approach it with — don’t flinch — academic rigor.
From a sociological perspective, Dartmouth Greek life’s “inclusivity” excludes those who do not wish to partake in the system. While parties themselves are more inclusive, the social system as a whole is more exclusive. It is true that parties in dorms and off-campus houses are themselves more exclusive than basement scenes, but more of these exclusive parties actually makes for a more inclusive social scene for those not invited.
Allow me to explain: in the current social climate, Jackie, a moderately social person on the fence about whether or not to engage with Greek life, doesn’t really have much choice but to engage if they want a social scene that may include alcohol, meeting new people and/or the prospect of hooking up. Without a Greek scene, and should Jackie not be invited to a closed-door party on a given night, they would be more likely to explore alternative options. So in this way, a more “exclusive” social scene would send many people currently around the edges of the Greek system to alternative spaces. This increase in people open to alternative options would draw somewhat less social people out of their rooms, as alternative options would appear more worthwhile with higher attendance.
In the current climate, alternative options carry an implicit shame of “If I go to this, I’m not social enough to actually go out.” The current dominance of a single social scene makes it blatantly obvious who chooses to engage in it and ostracizes those who do not. Under a more decentralized system, this shame is reduced, since everyone does their own thing.
This is the social theory behind reducing the accessibility of the Greek system. I believe this is why the administration does what it does. If there are still Greek houses at Dartmouth in 30 years, it will be because we somehow figured out a way to address this central piece of the administration’s grievance with the Greeks. It will not be because we complained loudly.
Once again, I am not advocating the destruction of the Greek system. It is, as Park and Gil both explain, an important piece of Dartmouth. But right now those laying siege to it are armed with the battering rams and fiery ballistae of academic and intellectual rigor while its defenders fire back with jeers and fistfuls of sand. It’s time to be adults. It’s time to think critically about our space.
