Frats suck. U.S. fraternities have an ugly history of alcohol abuse, hazing, sexual misconduct, and other offenses, all while traditionally excluding minorities and women. Greek Life has permeated college campuses since the mid-1800s, embedding itself as a cornerstone of college party culture.
Even with recent controversies justifiably staining the reputations of many fraternities, party-going college students seem undeterred from attending their events. Tufts is no different. Not long ago, our campus was flush with Greek Life, boasting 17 active organizations and a 25% student participation rate. Recent high-profile controversies, however, pressured Tufts’ administration to crack down—and they have done so with gusto. Strict anti-hazing policies to protect pledges and mandatory Green Dot and sober monitor training to prevent sexual assault aim to reduce the risks associated with Greek Life.
Yet there is another side to frat regulation. The Tufts administration limits the number of events per semester and mandates official guest lists and wristbands for entrance. Coupled with severe repercussions for violating these rules, this side of university policy seems aimed at fully eliminating Greek Life at Tufts. While the administration’s goals may be pure, over-regulating these organizations unintentionally relegates drinking and parties to unregulated spaces. Ultimately, it is in the best interest of the university to maintain a regulated, safe fraternity culture that prioritizes inclusivity.
Try as we may to educate students on the harms associated with alcohol consumption and party culture, telling college kids to abstain from carousing is a fool’s errand. Eliminating frats wouldn’t erase students’ desire to party: The venue would simply move. I call this the “Hydraulics Theory” of party culture: College students will find and throw parties; the best safeguard against the dangers of college nightlife is moderate regulation and transparency that steers but does not stifle Greek Life.
Tufts limits fraternities to throwing parties only twice a month, yielding weekends with no fraternity presence at all. Resultantly, most students—especially freshmen who don’t know older frat members—end up scouring campus for alternative opportunities to socialize, consisting mostly of bars in Boston and unofficial club and sports team houses.
These freshmen, who are often the most zealous party-goers, are also the most inexperienced, heightening the risk of victimization. The recently publicized phenomenon dubbed “Red Zone” refers to the much higher likelihood of being sexually assaulted in the first six weeks of college. Boston bars offer an alternative to the oft-maligned Tufts party scene, as fake identification is still effective despite the relative strictness of Boston enforcement. At these bars, students are still at risk of violence and sexual assault, but now far beyond the bounds of university protection. There are no sober monitors or Green Dot trainees in downtown Boston.
Parties thrown in private student living spaces (i.e., sports and club houses) are practically unregulated compared to their fraternity counterparts, yet they provide the same opportunities for, and risks of, binge drinking and partying. Those who argue sports teams lack the alleged identity-based exclusivity of frats, should be forewarned that these teams are no more diverse or inclusive than historical fraternity culture. The UCLA Law Review found that sports-based admission amounts to “affirmative action for white applicants.” When universities stifle Greek Life, students turn to organizations at least as problematic as any stereotypical frat. After all, these alternatives ostensibly meet the same student demands for going out but lack the administrative oversight that, when properly implemented, makes nightlife safer.
Tufts’ policy regime over-regulates Greek Life while ignoring its substitute. The current, unbalanced regulations have ensured that any frats remaining after a university crackdown benefit overtly from the school’s facile restrictions. As party supply is drastically reduced, the value of a given fraternity party is inflated several times over—attempts by the university to limit their social cachet ironically grant fraternities undeserved social power. All of these putative reforms amount to a fortified exclusivity, creating potentially dangerous power imbalances. Fraternity regulation doesn’t have to push students to unsafe party spaces and perpetuate exclusivity. The administration’s regulations, particularly those aimed at sexual assault prevention and hazing bans, are common-sense and appropriate but applied haphazardly, creating new problems while failing to solve existing ones. And despite our challenges, let’s be thankful that we aren’t Bates, where sports teams and the exclusive Outing Club have control over student going-out culture, or Yale, where frats are unrecognized and the school is rendered powerless. A smartly-regulated party scene would democratize Tufts nightlife while maintaining oversight, a clear win-win for everyone involved.
Photo by Sascha Dembling