Our ugly tradition

After a long series of sophomore dinners, questioning scores of upperclassmen, playing the sign-in and ultimate success in the sign in process, I decided to forego membership in an eating club. Despite my initial delight at acceptance, I quickly recognized the extent to which eating clubs, often described as a Princeton "tradition," are a source of division, elitism and unruliness that diminishes the Princeton experience.

The clubs are problematic both in terms of their ostensible service as places to eat and in their actually more important roles as the focus of social life at Princeton. The club system's major flaw is that it intimately connects a practical question, like the choice of a meal plan, with far more complex and meaningful decisions about social life and status. Though concerns about the quality of the food doubtless play a role, it is the social aspect of club membership that makes bicker or even sign-ins an emotionally loaded experience for some students and that offers many others an occasion for bacchanalian revelry.

Every sophomore class begins the year as a basically unified group, spread across the five residential colleges but free to interact. The college system is an artificial superstructure imposed on undergraduate life, and students assign little significance to their college. Yet by sophomore year, membership in an eating club becomes a consuming issue. By the end of February every individual is neatly categorized. Where there was once a single class of 2004, there are now 12. This division is harmful in that much of the learning one does at Princeton comes in conversation with one's fellow students. Division hampers the exchange of diverse views and perspectives by breaking people into smaller groups for meals which will always be the primary opportunity for exchange. This is worsened by the way that many clubs identify with a particular type of person or major. Not only are students interacting less, but those with whom they do interact are often drearily similar. Bicker . . .

Is elitist. Bicker, and even in non-bicker clubs, importance is attached to membership to a degree that would be inconsistent if they were not status symbols.

Is degrading. People say it's just fun. It isn't. To an extent it also defines "fun."

Is illegitimate. What gives juniors the right to judge?

Promotes alcoholism. It may be uncool to label alcoholism a problem. The Trustee's initiative is the butt of every student organization meeting. But of course the very coolness associated with criticizing excessive drinking is part of the problem. Promotes private clubs. They, rather than the University, decide. Meg Whitman's donation — despite her purchase — is a step in the right direction. But woefully slight.

Raises a question of culture. People in other colleges associate Princeton with eating clubs above all else. Shouldn't there be something else to ask about?

Eliminates other options. Independency is punished. Clubs do good things in community service. So does the SVC. And we're interested in institutional purposes, not peripheral activities.

If we think tradition is puking on the sidewalks, pressuring people to strip during "initiations" and making bickerees undergo pretentious interviews to judge their worthiness to eat lunch, perhaps a good dose of modernity is in order. Carlos Ramos-Mrosovsky is from New York, NY. He can be reached at cr@princeton.edu.