Cornell University’s Student Assembly is the prime voice of the student body. It is the sole institution that speaks purely on behalf of all undergraduates; with 37 Assembly members representing nearly 16,000 students, the power held by the members in charge is considerable. Distributing the Student Activity Fee to organizations, which costs every student an additional $424 per semester, or setting study period lengths, which have been slashed in recent years, all fall under the purview of the Assembly. The interests of the students depend heavily on the decisions of the Assembly, as they need to be made to accommodate the different academic and recreational aspirations of each individual, whether they be engineering, government or biological sciences majors.
Concerningly, the memory of the tenets has faded for some in the Assembly, as outlined in the recently passed — and heavily critiqued — Resolution 2. The president and vice presidents of the Assembly have all been given the power to hand-pick deputies, who are made to assist with the tasks associated with their roles. Beyond this, the descriptions of how these deputies participate in the Assembly are correspondingly vague, stating, rather blankly, that “Each Officer is permitted to appoint individuals to assist in the execution of their responsibilities.” Through other ambiguous descriptions, one might be able to glean that these deputies are given seats in the Assembly, but are forbidden from voting. Even then, it remains uncertain how the authors ultimately intended this.
Those who drafted and voted for the code may argue that since these deputies have no vote, all instances of foul-play are negated, rendering it impossible for members of the Assembly to gather phony support. This is a compromise to be accepted cautiously: votes are not the only currency with which members of the Assembly trade, but also the voices with which they speak. As it stands, those selected for deputy positions, whose opinions, in all likelihood, are in lock-step with those who picked them, are going to pollute the open discourse that the Assembly provides. Appearances are powerful, and they should not be underestimated as a tool to quell the dissenting opinion.
The selection of Nicholas Maggard to the deputy president role, placing him third in charge of the Student Assembly, without any manner of student vote, is an expressive example of this. Naturally, it is hard to imagine any situation where Maggard would have to take the lead, but, the nature of contravening the will of the students with executive loopholes paints a poor picture. If anything, it appears that President deRham is attempting to craft the Assembly in her image, rather than that of the students.
Now, considering the context in which these reforms were written, it is not surprising to see deRham undertake initiatives to restructure the student body’s most powerful institution. Patrick Kuehl’s alleged attempts to weaponize the voting power of the Interfraternity Council combined with González-Mulattieri’s refusal to step down after multiple confrontations over sexual assault scandals have become unwashable stains on the Assembly’s reputation. One would expect an overhaul of the Assembly to follow such instability, attempting to reassert confidence among students at the start of the new academic year. However, deRham’s callousness as to the passing of the decision, at odds with the written bylaws, saying that “it was something that […] everyone was fine with,” is a perspective that the Assembly must suppress. Considering the Office of Ethics called the passing of the decision unethical, there is clear discontent among members as to the undertaking of such initiatives.
Of course, it is understandable that ranking members of the Assembly might need some form of help in performing their duties; this, however, should never trump the selection process animated by the student body, which it evidently does here. Perhaps it was the opinion of the Assembly that in order to encourage students to take up these roles, rather than becoming actual members, some sort of official recompense, such as a seat on the Assembly and an official title, would be needed. Even so, a more appropriate form of remuneration is required, as the current system enables deputies to surpass their roles as assistants.
It is not secret that Cornellians view the Student Assembly as a shadowy institution, oftentimes more invested in internal controversy and daring-do than the benefit of students. Rather obviously, consolidating power amidst those already present on the board is shockingly little help to this tainted image. This is not to say that the Assembly is wholly incapable of benefiting the student body, but creating structure auspicious to such changes is essential, rather than an assertion of the power already present.
Ayman Abou-Alfa is a second year student in the College of Arts & Sciences. His fortnightly column Mind & Matter delves into the intersection of culture and science at Cornell University. He can be reached at [email protected].