Editor’s Note: This article contains mentions of sexual assault.
Prosecutors in central New York reopened a 2024 investigation Tuesday in which a female student, referred to in the case as Jane Doe, was allegedly brutally gang raped by seven Cornell University then-students in the Chi Phi fraternity — Matthew Ingalls, Jonathan Newell, Winston Lee, Gillio Lopes, Diego Sarabia, Scott Norris and Scott Kretzschmar.
These seven men faced laughable repercussions, while Doe was forced to continue her education despite her family’s pleas to have her come home and recover. Inevitably, she later dropped out of the university. Cornell claims that two of the seven assailants were expelled, with little further information on the reason for their expulsion or the investigation that preceded it. The rest? The Cornell administration instructed them to write essays and imposed temporary suspensions. A short essay and temporary removal from campus was the response to a woman whose autonomy and humanity were stolen from her. And these administrators deliberately protected the five other young men with no consideration for the lifelong trauma Jane Doe will hold. As of yet, none of the alleged rapists have been arrested.
This issue extends beyond the fact that a woman was purportedly brutally attacked. It is bigger than the monsters simply writing an essay as a punishment. It highlights a broader, nationwide issue — elite institutions have no hesitation in protecting young men, especially those within fraternities, athletic programs or other high-profile campus communities, when it comes to instances of sexual and behavioral allegations. Both the young men and campus establishment are connected to alumni networks, donors and institutional prestige. Thus, when allegations threaten those networks, universities face a choice between confronting those charged in the allegations or minimizing the damage to the university’s reputation. Too often, protecting the institution becomes fundamentally intertwined with protecting young men from consequences.
Fraternities, in particular, occupy an influential position in university social life and alumni networks that can protect members from repercussions — especially since their networks include some of the country's most powerful men, such as Warren Buffett, Carl E. Stewart and Chuck Robb. That does not mean every alumnus intervenes on behalf of an accused student, nor does fraternity membership itself establish guilt. But it does mean that universities are often responding to allegations within networks that extend far beyond the students directly involved. When those networks carry social and financial value, confronting them can carry institutional costs that are unfairly perceived to outweigh the university’s responsibility to protect the student body.
The power imbalance is not just between one man and one woman. It becomes between a woman and an entire social network of men who have a sociopolitical interest in protecting the pack.
The Cornell case is not the first recorded case of violent sexual assault involving fraternity members — there are plenty of documented examples of fraternity members explicitly encouraging or normalizing sexual aggression. In 2013, a member of Georgia Tech's Phi Kappa Tau sent fraternity members an email titled “Luring Your Rapebait,” describing how to use alcohol and sexualized interactions to coerce women at parties. Georgia Tech investigated the fraternity and ultimately suspended the chapter for three years. It is now back on campus. At American University in 2014, more than 70 pages of emails and text messages allegedly exchanged among members of the unrecognized Epsilon Iota fraternity were leaked. The communications included references to sexual assault and discussions of intoxicating women to facilitate sex. The messages spanned from 2012 to 2014, demonstrating that the issue was not limited to a single conversation, friend group or pledging class. Fraternities evidently reinforce systems where members rely on approval and protection from one another when they encourage and commit vile forms of sexual assault.
Our University is not absent from this conversation. In 2014, Rolling Stone published an article in which a University student alleged she was gang raped by members of the Phi Kappa Psi fraternity. Timothy Longo, associate vice president for safety and security and chief of police, debunked the claims in 2016 after a formal police investigation, telling reporters the investigation “doesn’t mean that something terrible didn’t happen to Jackie.” The police were simply not able to gather enough facts. While the claims were dismissed after University Police and Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism found inconsistencies, the controversy put the University at the center of the discussion around how administrations ought to handle assault and the transparency they owe students.
When universities issue lenient punishments for violent offenses, yet have no problem suspending and expelling students for utilizing their free speech, they make it clear to survivors that reporting their assault is not worthwhile. This only fuels more violence and encourages the bystander effect, according to Nicole Bedera, a sociologist who researches institutional responses to campus sexual misconduct. Repeatedly telling students to report — yet not following through with thorough investigations — allows universities to avoid dealing with Title IX proceedings and avoids the stain of a sexual violence report to the government. All told, resources do not make up for the assault problem at universities.
This raises the question — when a university's response to sexual violence is limited, who is the institution actually protecting? Is prestige worth more than justice?
This is where universities must move beyond general sexual-assault prevention and provide organizations with concrete guidance for responding to misconduct that occurs within their own communities. The Office of Fraternity and Sorority Life, for example, must expand existing programming to address not only alcohol and consent, but also how members should respond to a disclosure of sexual assault, how to report concerns and how to intervene when they become aware of potentially harmful behavior. The Cornell case demonstrates why this matters — some of the most consequential evidence concerns not only the alleged perpetrators, but also what other members knew and whether they responded. Institutional accountability requires universities to examine the structures surrounding misconduct, rather than treating each incident as an isolated interaction between individuals. Yet too often, that accountability becomes urgent only after public outrage.
Universities have the power to decide what happens after a woman reports that she has been violated. The question is whether that power will be used to protect her — or to protect themselves. If protecting a university's reputation means minimizing allegations against its students, insulating influential organizations from scrutiny or forcing survivors to bear the consequences of institutional inaction, then prestige has become more than a name on a diploma. It has become a shield.
Ayat Younis is an opinion columnist who writes about academics for The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at opinion@cavalierdaily.com.
The opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of The Cavalier Daily. Columns represent the views of the authors alone.
Read More
HAWKINS: The Cornell sexual assault scandal showcases the importance of student journalism
By Joshua Hawkins | 10 hours agoWhile the Cornell University administration faltered, it was the students who rose to the occasion.
CARON: Political cynicism is complacency, not productivity
By Jenna Caron | 23 hours agoDuring elections, our agency is only gone if we allow it to be.
CLIPPINGER: Grade inflation is killing curiosity
By Grace Clippinger | 4 days agoWhen a high GPA is deemed important for future opportunities, students have more reason to avoid difficult courses, choose classes based on their expected grades and protect their transcripts, rather than pursue what genuinely interests them.
