UP IN SMOKE

Which Schools Take A Tough Line Against Student Partying, And Which
Ones Mellow Out

In the spring of 2004, Ross Butterworth, a 21-year-old junior at the
University of Rhode Island, was hanging out with friends, "puffing a
bowl," in a wooded area behind dorms on the Kingston campus.

A pair of South Kingstown police officers approached the group and
arrested Butterworth since, he says, "I was the only one they found
weed on." This fall, after being pulled over for speeding on his way
to a student party in Charlestown, he was arrested again, for
possession of a small amount of marijuana. In a sense, Butterworth is lucky.

If it had been university security that busted him, and not the
local police, the Narragansett native might have been kicked out of
URI or suspended for a year. In each of the two instances,
Butterworth avoided a trial by pleading no contest and paying a $200
fine, along with fees to cover court and lab costs. "Maybe I lucked
out," he concedes. "They sweep it under the carpet."

Rhode Island's premier public college was considered a top party
school as recently as the early 1990s. But since adopting a very
tough stand -- banning alcohol on campus in 1993, evicting eight
fraternities, and imposing a strict three-strikes rule for students
caught imbibing on campus -- URI and its president, Robert L.
Carothers, have emerged as national leaders in the fight against
student partying. The university's stance has also opened a new
revenue stream; the National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and
Alcoholism last year awarded URI $5.6 million to study how its
"environmental approach" -- encompassing collaborative efforts with
neighboring communities, private businesses, and police -- could be
a standard for other colleges to follow.

And under a new policy being instituted this semester, the
university is expanding its jurisdiction for student behavior
off-campus to include repeated arrests or citations for violations
of local, state, or federal laws. (The university had previously
reserved the right to discipline students arrested for
felony offenses, or for behavior deemed a threat to life or
property.) Not surprisingly, considering how Animal House-style
antics have long been considered part of the college experience,
many students are chafing under the strains of URI's
new prohibitionism. Some complain that the festivities have merely
been transferred off-campus, leading to tensions between students
and residents in the towns near URI. Others cite inconsistency in
the approach of resident assistants in different dorms.

But perhaps the most galling thing is how elite private colleges
like Brown University seem to favor a more tolerant approach when
it comes to student partying. At Brown, for instance, there is no
rigid protocol for suspending students caught with alcohol or drugs.
(After a third offense related to drugs or alcohol, URI students
face academic probation or suspension from the university for one
year. A violation involving drugs counts for two strikes, while one
involving both drugs and alcohol results in a suspension.) At
Brown, each violation is taken on a "case by case" basis, although
three infractions would be taken "very seriously," a university
official says, and students can be suspended for repeated violations.

Tom Angell, a 2004 graduate of URI who serves as the campaign
director of Students for Sensible Drug Policy in Washington,
DC, sums up the situation this way: "At private, Ivy League schools,
students tend to get off easier than at state schools." To some
Brown students, the university's disciplinary approach seems lax and
reeks of class privilege.

Senior Matthew J. Lawrence argued in the Brown Daily Herald last
semester that his peers should refuse to smoke marijuana because,
while non-student dealers are likely to face stiff sentences if
arrested, student pot-smokers risk only a "slap on the wrist."
When campus police caught two of his sophomore-year roommates
smoking marijuana, Lawrence says, they were not arrested. "Since
then I've seen the same thing -- caught with pot and nothing," he says.

Of course, other Brown students are quite happy with the university's
policies -- and not necessarily because they don't have
to constantly be looking over their shoulder while tugging on a beer
or a joint.

Describing the approach as consistent with Brown's guiding
philosophy, senior Jeffrey Tiell says the university entrusts
its students with freedom and responsibility. "I think the
university takes a more reactive response to substance abuse than
proactive, essentially behaving in a laissez-faire manner until they
are forced into responding to an event such as the party Sex Power
God," Tiell says, referring to a November event that became
controversial after becoming the subject of sensationalistic coverage
on Fox News' The O'Reilly Factor. "I don't necessarily think this is
a bad thing . . . There is a fine line between student safety and
personal liberty, and I think Brown does a decent job of walking that line."

Shifting Standards

Although the college experience has long been a time of
experimentation and liberation, a golden period between the innocence
of youth and the responsibility of adulthood, the negative
consequences of substance use by some students -- particularly binge
drinking and date rape -- have gained more attention since the early
'90s. Recognition of these problems, as well as the potential
liability for universities (MIT, for example, offered a $6 million
settlement to the parents of Scott Krueger, a freshman who died after
overdosing on alcohol during a fraternity hazing in 1997), has
resulted in a backlash against the stereotypical collegiate
lifestyle of reckless abandon.

In no small part, this is due to the influential research of Dr.
Henry Wechlser, the director of the Harvard School of
Public Health's College Alcohol Study. Since 1993, Wechsler's
comprehensive surveys of hundreds of colleges, of all sizes and from
all regions across the country, have produced statistics on the
prevalence of student binge drinking (defined as five or more
consecutive drinks for men, or four or more for women), and the
extent of student alcoholism and alcohol-related behavioral problems.
While frequent binge drinkers (those doing so three or more times in
two weeks) constitute about 23 percent of all students, according to
Wechsler's research, they account for 73 percent of student drinking.
(This finding could also be interpreted to suggest that most
students take part in an active social life without causing serious
problems.) Wechsler says frequently binging students are far more
likely than their peers to struggle academically, to use illicit
drugs, and to suffer from depression or alcoholism. He has
also found that 1700 US college students die each year from alcohol
or alcohol-related injuries; students who have been drinking are
responsible annually for 700,000 assaults; and 97,000 students are
raped or sexually assaulted each year by peers who are under the
influence. Yet while the consequences of student drinking are
widespread, the issues vary by the college, Wechsler says, depending
on the extent of fraternities and sororities, the relative
importance of athletic programs, and other factors.

At URI, President Carothers targeted the fraternity system, since it
was perceived as having a deeply integrated ethos of heavy drinking.

Brown, on the other hand, fosters a culture that includes many
activities and social pursuits beyond fraternities and sports events.

Student partying exists, for sure, but it is not the sole center of
campus life. Brown students tend to agree that the university's drug
and alcohol policies are relaxed compared with other universities.
But at Brown, the partying is low-key and usually contained to the
areas near the campus.

Students mostly benefit from what seems to be an unwritten
understanding with the university: keep the partying under control,
and avoid heavy-handed policies. The end result of the different
approaches is that URI students are much more likely than
their peers at Brown to face arrest and prosecution for drug or
alcohol use, based on data reported by the universities. Between
2002 and 2004, four Brown students were arrested for drug
violations, and none for alcohol violations, although more than 500
drug- and alcohol-related disciplinary actions were
processed through the school's internal judicial process.

For the same years at URI (which has roughly 11,300 undergraduate
students, compared to the 5700 at Brown), there were 50 arrests for
drug violations and 29 for alcohol violations, and about 1600
internal disciplinary actions. Now, though, after The O'Reilly Factor
focused unwelcome attention on the annual Sex Power God party --
replete with breathless accounts of same-sex kissing among students
- -- Brown continues a previously launched examination of its alcohol
policies. (Although 30 students were treated for over-consumption of
alcohol after Sex Power God, and boozing might have been a factor in
a campus fight that night, alcohol was not served at the event
hosted by the campus Queer Alliance. Students attribute the
situation to heavy "pre-gaming," or binge drinking, before the
party.) The irony would be if Brown, chastened by
O'Reilly's hypocritical moralizing, is tempted to lean closer to
URI's harsher standard on drug and alcohol use by students.

A tale of two schools In response to the Sex Power God tempest, Brown
officials quickly sought to allay concern.

In a letter to parents, David A. Greene, the university's vice
president for campus life and student services, detailed how Brown
would proceed, pledging a reexamination of the policies regarding
student-run social events.

"We are a community that values flexibility and choice," Greene
wrote, "but when it comes to issues of safety we have no option but
to insist that the highest standards are upheld."

Such rhetoric aside, Brown mostly conducts student discipline
in-house, and with considerable discretion (in both senses of the
word). While URI alerts parents after a student's second
alcohol infraction, Brown's policy is not to notify parents out of
respect for student privacy rights, unless, Greene says, there is a
concern for the student's safety, or multiple violations.

"We want to be sure we don't create disincentives for students to
seek help," he says. The university also offers amnesty to students
who contact emergency medical services on behalf of students who get
sick from drinking. Currently, Brown treats alcohol and drug
violations on a case-by-case basis, with minor infractions requiring
students to meet with a health educator or a dean, or to go before a
peer review board.

Deans handle serious infractions in administrative hearings that can
dole out sanctions ranging from a written reprimand to expulsion.

Repeated infractions "can lead to removal from the university," and
three infractions "would be taken very seriously," Greene says, but
there is no three-strikes rule as at URI. "The sanctions of our
disciplinary system are very likely more severe than those imposed by
the courts," Greene says.

But information on recent disciplinary actions against students
suggests that a hard line is rarely taken.

In the semester ending in December of 2004, the most recent period
for which data is available, the university held administrative
hearings on three incidents involving student misconduct. Two
resulted in deferred suspensions, meaning the students would not be
suspended provided they abide by university regulations. The one
student who was suspended urinated in front of a crowd at a sporting
event while intoxicated, and verbally abused event security staff.

Along with a one-semester suspension, the student was required to
undergo alcohol counseling while away from the university. Greene
says the university consults with neighbors and handles complaints
through its disciplinary process.

With almost 20 percent of Brown students living off-campus -- about
1200 students this year -- neighborhood relations are "an area that
needs constant attention." Still, Greene says the university is
examining its related policies not out of response to outside
pressure, but out of concern for the well being of its students. "We
feel enormous pressure to do right by our students," he says.

By contrast, URI administrators and Narragansett officials trumpet
the coalition they formed in 2000 to combat an increase
in off-campus drinking by students. With local police increasing
their patrols, and expanded university powers holding students
accountable for off-campus behavior, the number of neighbor
complaints has gone down, they say, and more students have been
caught in the net. While students are outraged, town-and-gown
relations seem to be on the upswing. (Of the $5.6 million in federal
grants received by URI to study its "environmental approach," some
of the money goes to the Narragansett police, for the stated purpose
of beefing up enforcement against drunk driving by students.)
Despite the protestations of students, URI's administration appears
unlikely to reverse course.

And the college's environmental approach makes it just one of an
increasing number of universities that have begun to follow the
trend. Concerns over student drinking led Salve Regina University in
Newport to form a coalition with local officials and business owners
in 1996, greatly reducing the number of under-age
drinking violations in Newport's high concentration of bars, says
Gerald Willis, the school's associate dean of students.

URI's policies are "not as liberal as some," acknowledges Tom
Dougan, the university's vice president of student affairs, but he
defends the approach, calling the threat of strict sanctions a
necessity. "Our system allows us to intervene to educate and help
our students. We believe early intervention really helps down the line."

Student Backlash

For URI students like senior Micah Daigle, president of the campus
chapter of Students for Sensible Drug Policy (SSDP), the school's
drug and alcohol policies seem like a trap, luring students into a
confrontation with the law. "Before, when URI was not a dry campus,
most of the partying went on on-campus -- it was contained," Daigle
says. "Now, there are parties going on next to people living with
kids and their families, so they are understandably angry . . . You
can have a few maybe drinking in the [dormitory] room and, if you're
lucky, an RA won't catch you. But if you want to party, you have to
go 20 minutes away -- which means you have to drive."

Some URI students believe police in surrounding communities unfairly
target them. One senior, who asked to not be identified because of
his upcoming trial, says he was arrested outside of his house
in Charlestown after he told officers they could not enter his home,
and was charged with obstructing police.

Although the student was hosting a party with 40 to 50 people, he
says, most were of legal drinking age and there were no drugs in the house.

The student says police demanded to know how much marijuana was in
the building, and when they found none, told students who had been
drinking to drive home. This URI student says his peers are often
pulled over "for no reason," and asked if they are URI students,
and if they have drugs or alcohol in the car. "I feel very targeted," he says.

Ross Butterworth, the student pulled over and arrested in Charlestown
for marijuana possession, says, "A lot of police are bugging out down there."

URI senior Ben Terry says the university is trampling students'
rights in the name of security. "They're clearly well-intentioned.
I can't really blame the university for trying to foster a safer
environment," Terry says. "I think the real problem [is] they begin
to contradict basic constitutional [rights]."

Last fall, Daigle and the SSDP formed a coalition with 20 other
student groups to combat the university's new disciplinary
policies that went into effect this semester, including the
extension of its jurisdiction to discipline students for off-campus
behavior and enabling residence hall directors to search student
dorm rooms based on "concrete evidence" of a violation.

After establishing a Web site for the coalition,
http://www.urirights.org/, "I started getting calls from students I
didn't even know," Daigle says. "And they were like, you know,
'Help me. I was in my dorm room last weekend, an RA came in, I had a
small bag of pot, and now I'm getting arrested and thrown out of school.'"

Junior Ryan Bilodeau, who heads the URI College Republicans,
initially agreed to join the URI Rights coalition, but pulled
out after other college Republicans complained that he did not
consult with them.

Although Bilodeau says he "understands where they [the coalition]
come from," he ultimately sides with the university on the new
policies. "They really needed to do something like this," Bilodeau
says. "To change a culture, sometimes you have to be a little
extreme at the beginning." Bilodeau, who is 20, says he does not
drink or do drugs. He believes students at URI choose to drink
because they are apathetic about involvement in student groups and
activities. "There's not enough to do on campus, so kids stay in
their room and drink," he says. At the same time, discipline seems
inconsistent to him from dorm to dorm "Some kids will be made an
example of," Bilodeau says. "It's bad luck. It all comes down to
who's enforcing. Some RAs just don't care."

THE DRUG WAR GOES TO COLLEGE

Daigle and the SSDP favor policies that offer education and treatment
for non-violent drug and alcohol offenses.

Given a choice, Daigle would choose the model applied at Brown
University. "They're dealing with very similar circumstances at
both schools," he says. "It's students who are all essentially the
same age, getting into the same things, drugs and alcohol. "I feel
like there is another way of going about this, which would be more
towards the model of Brown, where you're not busting students."

Tom Angell, SSDP's national campaign director, says the lesson of the
war on drugs is that strict laws and increased enforcement
only guarantee more arrests, not fewer users.

The problem of student drug and alcohol use is cultural, Daigle and
Angell say, and no amount of law enforcement can stop it. In fact,
much of the excesses of collegiate drinking can be traced to
American societal norms in which young people -- who
are unrealistically expected to entirely shun alcohol until they are
21 -- are abruptly cast into an environment with considerable
personal freedom and a relative lack of supervision.

Daigle says stricter penalties haven't
reduced the number of students engaging in under-age drinking or drug
use at URI. "The fact is, nothing has changed, there's no less
partying going on," he says. "It's just the way that we've
dealt with it."

"This is a college environment," says Terry. "You're not going to stop it."

Farther north, in Providence, Brown's culture of respect for student
freedoms and individual responsibility, along with its more
flexible attitude toward student discipline, seems likely to endure,
the flap over Sex Power God notwithstanding. Those URI students
craving a more liberal approach to drugs and alcohol on their
campus, meanwhile, seem like victims of their environment.