Is It Fair to Ask Fraternity-Council Presidents to Reform Greek Life?

When Timothy Bryson was elected president of the Fraternity Council at the University of South Carolina at Columbia last fall, he believed firmly that Greek life there was in need of change. He loved being a fraternity member. But he was frustrated by what he saw as a recklessly permissive culture among some of his peers: “Ignore, ignore, ignore, and hope something doesn’t occur.”

He had reason for concern. Two months earlier, a sophomore pledge at nearby Clemson University, Tucker Hipps, died during an alleged hazing incident.

Mr. Bryson saw many similarities between Clemson and his own institution: dangerous drinking, out-of-control parties, and recruitment problems that “had been pushed under the rug for a while.”

Then, in March, a similar tragedy struck South Carolina: A freshman fraternity member, Charles Terreni Jr., died of alcohol poisoning at an off-campus house frequented by members of the university’s Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity. Mr. Bryson vowed to do more to hold his peers accountable.

In theory, he was in a position to do so. Fraternities, as private organizations, are generally free from institutional interference as long as they comply with college policies. And interfraternity-council presidents sit at the top of the self-governance structure under which most North American Interfraternity Conference chapters operate.

As pressure grows on fraternities to take a hard look at their alcohol-fueled ways, many of these presidents do more than run meetings and organize events. There are calls for them to act as visionaries and reformers. That might involve helping to revamp a college’s rules for social organizations, banning hard liquor from fraternity houses, or cracking down on alcohol use during new-member recruitment.

Some leaders, like Mr. Bryson, are eager to improve safety and to paint over fraternities’ party-hard image. But reformers “are the exception and not the rule,” said Gentry R. McCreary, chief executive of Dyad Strategies, a risk-management firm that works with colleges.

Part of the reason for the rarity of reformers is that the role can put students in a bind. Council presidents have to strike a balance between enjoying the social benefits of Greek membership and enforcing unpopular rules; any decision to penalize a chapter is likely to affect at least a few of their friends. Sometimes there is pushback. Mr. Bryson learned that firsthand.

A President’s Fall

During the first four days of fall classes at South Carolina, there were three hospitalizations related to fraternity-recruitment activities, Mr. Bryson said. (The Fraternity Council at the university governs chapters within the Interfraternity Council, or IFC, and the National Pan-Hellenic Council, as well as several multicultural Greek organizations. Only IFC chapters have formal recruitment. Mr. Bryson was also IFC president by virtue of his position.)

Several days later, an IFC adviser told the Fraternity Council’s executive board and the chapter presidents that university officials were aware of the trouble. The adviser gave them a warning: If you have activities planned this weekend that include alcohol, we’d advise you to cancel them. But Mr. Bryson said the council and university staff kept hearing reports from students about alcohol at recruitment events.

That Sunday, Mr. Bryson, along with several other council leaders and administrators, suspended rush at 13 chapters. It was a harsh penalty, but he called it “an emergency situation” and said something forceful had to be done.

“In accordance with our bylaws, we should fine each chapter for having alcohol at recruitment events,” he said. “I don’t think we should send them invoices as they send kids to the hospital.” “I don’t believe anyone thought Fraternity Council would self-govern,” he added, “because it had never happened before.”

The council reversed the suspensions within two weeks. Still, several fraternity leaders argued that Mr. Bryson did not have the evidence to take such a drastic measure and had overstepped his role. They called for him to be impeached along with Jonathan Withrow, the council’s vice president for conduct. Mr. Withrow elected to resign. Mr. Bryson was removed by a vote of the 27 chapter presidents on September 21.

The decision to halt rush, Mr. Bryson said, “was a slap on the wrist compared with long-term consequences.”

‘I’m Kind of a Buzzkill’

Mr. Bryson’s removal was one of the most public examples of backlash against an interfraternity-council president. Several current and former presidents interviewed by The Chronicle emphasized a need to communicate with chapter presidents and to convey expectations and potential penalties before taking action. But they understood Mr. Bryson’s intentions.

Many of them had enacted and enforced unpopular policies, and they acknowledged that policing fellow students — often their friends — could be a challenge.

“There’s a lot of people who think I’m kind of a buzzkill,” said Robert Schmidt, president of the Interfraternity Council at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln. He wrote an op-ed essay in the campus newspaper defending Mr. Bryson.

Mr. Schmidt’s council passed a ban on hard liquor at Greek social events last spring, a move provoked in part by the alcohol-related death of a fraternity pledge in September 2014, he said.

Nebraska’s student-affairs office handles allegations that might warrant suspensions, he said. But the council can levy initial penalties against chapters.

“My best friends, they’re going to be my friends no matter what,” he said. But younger members complained about the liquor ban. “They ask, Why can’t we do this? Why are you controlling my decisions? " He tells them: If the council doesn’t regulate it, administrators or the police will. Still, he said, “it really does put us in a difficult spot.”

Jason Blincow led the drafting of a new alcohol policy at the University of Missouri at Columbia. Mr. Blincow, president of the Interfraternity Council there, said the policy took effect this fall and included a hard-liquor ban on all fraternity property. Some members did not welcome the change, he said, but he allowed a trade-off: Every chapter is now allowed to have beer in the house at all times, which was not the case previously.

“In their eyes, they’re gaining something,” he said.

Peter Diaz, president of the Interfraternity Council at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, has worked to make houses “safer spaces” and to restore a sense of control over parties. He began requiring chapters to register every party well in advance, and he increased enforcement of existing rules that parties have a security presence and a set guest list.

The changes have met resistance from non-Greek students who had grown used to crashing the parties, Mr. Diaz said. But he has not backed off.

“When they get turned down, they think it’s because the fraternity is elitist or racist,” he said. “But the real reason is we have a rule: Do not let people in who you do not know, unless they’re invited. Once you lose control of your party, you lose control of everything that happens.”

Nationwide, however, visions of reform are not common among interfraternity-council leaders, said Mr. McCreary, the risk-management consultant, even as the councils face increased scrutiny. “Most are there to maintain the status quo and to do what the chapters want them to do — which is often to advocate and defend,” he said.

Ideally, more council presidents would take bold stands, as Mr. Bryson did, said Steve Veldkamp, executive director of the Center of the Study of the College Fraternity, at Indiana University at Bloomington. But he recognized the risk of retaliation from other students. He said he had heard “horrible stories about them being mistreated in social circles.” That raises a question: Is it reasonable to expect students to hold their peers accountable when a quintessential college experience — the fraternity party — is on the line?

Some observers contend that putting a student-run council in charge of groups that engage in high-risk behavior makes little sense. “Clearly what’s happening isn’t working,” said Mr. McCreary, who has proposed a shared-governance system in which national organizations or fraternity alumni take on more direct involvement in chapters’ day-to-day activities. Such an approach would require both groups to assume more liability as well, he said.

Mr. Veldkamp said the current model can work well, provided that colleges, too, are involved. Many interfraternity-council presidents are “extraordinary human beings,” he said. More than other Greek-life officials, he said, “they have an understanding of what needs to happen.” The council presidents agreed. Sonjay Singh, who recently led the Inter-Greek Council at Connecticut’s Trinity College, said “the students have done multitudes more than the school has ever done to fix issues in Greek life.”

Still, Mr. Veldkamp said, “I absolutely worry if it’s too much” to ask of students.

Offering institutional support and training opportunities for presidents is essential, said Mark Koepsell, executive director of the Association of Fraternity/Sorority Advisors. One wonders why students would want to take such a stressful job — an unpaid one, no less. Mr. Bryson and others said it is one of the most rewarding leadership experiences a student can find.

But the short-term nature of the position might continue to thwart the efforts of reform-focused presidents. Momentum in favor of change in fraternities tends to ebb and flow on campuses, Mr. McCreary said. Several times at Indiana, Mr. Veldkamp said, council leaders ran on platforms that were “the antithesis of change,” and reversed stricter policies put in place by their predecessors.

The future is a central concern for Mr. Diaz, of North Carolina. “I’ve spent all year working towards that end,” he said, “and once I’m at this point, with a month left, I’m thinking, We did some great things,” he said, “and I want this to continue.” He can only hope that happens.