We’re in the midst of another fraternity scandal, with Chi Phi temporarily suspended for an alleged sexual assault and drugging during this year’s Halloween weekend. For students at Cornell, this is nothing new — rather, it is, painfully, all too common, marked by temporary, reactive administrative behavior and repeated as soon as the sanctions are lifted.
The problem runs deep at Cornell. It’s deeper than any one frat, deeper than any generation of students and certainly deeper than can be solved with any one action or suspension. It’s the result of misogynistic, hierarchical organizations that are themselves rotten to the core. Increasingly, it’s becoming clear that the only way out of the frat problem at Cornell is a complete, permanent ban, replacing frats with democratic, inclusive spaces that don’t commit unspeakable crimes seemingly every semester.
Fraternities have been among the most regulated groups on campus, governed not just by the Student Code of Conduct, but by the Interfraternity Constitution and extensive New York State laws on hazing. Over just the past few years, fraternities have been temporarily suspended, events have been halted and constant sanctions have been imposed. Last week’s vile report of sexual assault and drugging at Chi Phi only demonstrated what we have already learned time and time again: No amount of regulation, nor any temporary half-measures, will make Cornell’s fraternity culture any less lawless.
Across the country, a culture of silence has become the defining feature of campus Greek life, with participation conditional on the willingness of students to keep quiet. Even for members who are not committing heinous acts, refusing to speak up means complicity.
It should come as no surprise to learn that researchers consistently find far higher levels of sexual assault on college campuses among fraternity members than non-fraternity members. Fraternities also find their origins in explicitly racist, anti-democratic, anti-intellectual attempts by elite students to isolate themselves from their universities.
At Cornell, the fraternity problem even outdates The Sun, which was founded in 1880. Our school holds the unfortunate distinction of having had the first documented fraternity hazing death in the United States, reported in 1873. There is absolutely no reason to continue centering our University’s social life on an institution that so often mandates physical danger for some and moral hazard for others.
Ultimately, the most frustrating thing about fraternity life at Cornell is that it isn’t the only path forward. Other schools that have taken the step to abolish Greek life are not looking back with regret. And Cornell already has numerous social and residential organizations that give an outlet for community without the dangerous baggage.
Take, for example, the cooperative system. Cooperatives throw parties, house students and give undergraduates an opportunity to experiment with independent, democratic governance. More importantly, co-ops represent a success story, avoiding the greatest, most publicized sins of fraternity life. At this point, Cornell, if it cares about its student body, has no choice: Ban the frats and begin replacing them with spaces that don’t have a record of raping, hazing, drugging and destroying our students lives.
Editor’s Note: As a member of Greek life, Opinion Editor Henry Schechter ’26 has recused himself from the writing process for this editorial due to a conflict of interest.