Original Article: http://dartreview.com/archives/2003/05/12/ivy_council_dont_waste_your_time.php
Monday, May 12, 2003
'Do you want to be a leader?' asked the email. Of course I did, and, a perpetual sucker for these sorts of things, I responded immediately. Thus began my association with Ivy Council, an inter-Ivy student government organization that does...well, I'm still trying to figure that out. My journey of discovery encompassed two states, two campuses, and two road trips.
The first installment came with the Ivy Leadership Summit on ethics, held at the University of Pennsylvania from March 28 to 30. The journey began with an older attendee promising 'plenty of Bush-bashing' during the ride. Our vigorous debate, however, was truncated by a pit stop in southern Connecticut. Afterwards, I found myself at the wheel. I warily obtained directions from two burly gents leaning suspiciously on a shadowy vehicle. I finally discovered the Turnpike and pointed the minivan to Philadelphia.
Our delegation arrived safely at the UPenn chapter of Sigma Alpha Epsilon. The patronizing conference organizer delineated our 'boundaries,' and with that a friend and I retired to a dormitory to wait for our host. As a security guard filled out our guest passes-—useless to us unless accompanied by a dorm resident—in the lobby of the twenty-five-story high rise, we reaffirmed our decision to attend Dartmouth. We retired to our host's room and settled down in anticipation of the long day of ethical thinking ahead.
At breakfast, I discovered the dearth of schools present. Harvard is not a member of Ivy Council. Princeton and Yale had elected not to attend the conference, and I never did spot anyone from Brown. The remaining participants seemed to make up the UPenn contingent.
I attended a session on 'Business Ethics,' and introduced myself to the three members—all associated with Penn. I have no interest in business, but having missed the sign-up for the political session, I was left no choice. After a sleepy hour, we settled into 'breakout' sessions. The trendy glasses and ear-length hair of my discussion leader left no doubts about the direction of the debate. After some ethnocentric discussion of multinational corporations, I embarked on my search for an authentic Philadelphia cheesesteak.
After lunch, anti-war activist Bob Allen presented his keynote 'speech.' The original speaker had canceled at the last minute, and Mr. Allen had been asked to fill-in with minutes to spare. Beginning with a slide show, he proceeded to give a 'history,' devoid of a single date, of the Iraqi people. The United States, we were told, had designed all along to 'conquer' Iraq. Our only aim is power, scamming weapons inspectors and eventually taking over Saudi Arabia. No statistics. No mention of Kuwait. No condemnation of any devastation inflicted by Saddam Hussein. A question about the Kurds was brushed off by a reference to the West Bank as a 'real occupation.' Later, Mr. Allen ignored an inquiry about the massacre of Iraqis under the rule of Mr. Hussein. Focusing instead on the Iraqi President's right to defend himself, Mr. Allen proved himself worthy of employment with al-Jazeera. Any theme related to ethics was absent.
The keynote address was followed by another panel discussion. While, preparations for the night's fraternity festivities ensued, I slipped off to visit Princeton. I hoped to play Amory Blaine; I found myself slugging keg beers and listening to the thumping rhythms of 50 Cent. I'm not sure F. Scott would have approved, but it was certainly better than the conference.
I returned to Penn in time to catch the 'motivational speaker,' who seemed a little too motivated for her audience of hungover leaders. She taught us that 'steepling,' the touching of the fingertips so that one's hands form a pointed shape, is an expression of male power sweeping corporate America. 'Style over substance,' she wrote on the easel-supported notepad. Responding to a question about why height is a mark of power—but not for a woman—she claimed to teach based only upon the research. Sounds ethical to me.
After an uneventful journey home, I prepared for the next weekend's journey to Princeton University. This was to be the official Ivy Council conference: where Ivy League Student governments—minus Harvard—discussed, collaborated, and ruled the Ivy-swaddled domain. Not being on student government, I was unsure of how exactly I was able to attend—but I attended nonetheless.
Participating in the conference required that we actually make it to Princeton, which was doubtful. The College, now directly responsible for vehicle rental, promptly lost our reservations. Thus, after a two-hour delay and no small bit of haggling, we were equipped with a pair of lumbering Facilities Operations and Management vans.
After a little banter about our respective schools, and a two-hour lunch, the Council was to discuss a resolution regarding affirmative action. The significance of an Ivy Council resolution remained unclear, but I anticipated a lively discourse as I climbed the marble steps of Whig Hall, home of the nation's oldest debating society.
But there was to be little debate this afternoon. From the beginning, the focus was more on producing a statement we could disseminate to various media outlets rather than engaging in any substantive dialogue. It was explained to me by an over-zealous Cornell delegate, that since the student government of each school had already lent its support to affirmative action, my personal opinion was of no import, though it was the'Ivy Council' name on the resolution. This point was soon impressed upon me in much more galling way. When I proposed an amendment to the resolution, removing reference to affirmative action from the language supporting diversity, my motion failed to garner a second among twenty-eight delegates.
From there, the 'debate' just got downright silly. Despite the fact that the discussion was to be the centerpiece of our weekend, only an hour was allotted for the passage of the resolution. It was already assumed we would pass it. We were merely a body drafted to put a stamp of approval on the work of the sponsors. To this end, delegates scurried about busily, addressing various quibbles and complaints. Finally, it was decided we should adopt 'a stronger statement,' with the focus on race as a factor in admissions rather than race as one of several types of desired diversity. Our vote, however, was postponed for the following day as our time had expired.
Disgusted as I was by the 'debate,' I came away from Ivy Council truly humbled by the caliber of its participants. Yet members are hard pressed to say just what the organization does. During elections the next mornings, one candidate stressed that, as we attend the most prestigious colleges in the country, the council has the potential to be the most powerful student organization in the country. Perhaps this is true, but this power cannot be claimed by fiat.
Last year's executive board certainly overcame the vast coordination hurdles which confront such a product, but to what end? The infrastructure for achieving influence is simply not present, as Ivy Council is not formalized within the student governments of its member schools. Moreover, how much power do these governments possess in the first place? If Ivy Council is to be nothing more than an impressive brand name, it must develop concrete, achievable goals—not to mention a procedure for identifying such goals.
Sunday's elections were accompanied by a vote on the affirmative action resolution. It came time for Dartmouth to vote. 'Four yeas,' our head delegate proclaimed, assuming incorrectly that I wished to vote in favor of the resolution. It wouldn't have made a difference. The resolution passed unanimously: 28 yeas, 0 nays, 0 abstentions, and 1 vote incorrectly cast.