Reader feedback on the Cornell case

The emails are still rolling in — but outside of the time I asked you all to write in your thoughts on Charlie Kirk — this week was likely the most emails we’ve ever received on a topic. On Friday (or Thursday for paid subscribers), I wrote about the Cornell case. I wanted to be as honest as possible, including in voicing my own feelings that even talking about it was not something I wanted to do, but felt I needed to do.

In return, many of you replied with your own honest and vulnerable emails. We heard from young men, older women and literally everyone in between. I could not be more proud of this community we’re building. I’m especially grateful to those of you who were unafraid to push back on my thoughts, noting, as one reader put it, that we had created a “space where I can send you this email and be confident that you will try to understand my viewpoint, rather than shame me for dissenting.”

They’re absolutely correct! And we’re doing something different today. I won’t be writing about all the other stuff going on at LNI. We’re just focusing on your emails.

But first, one of my co-founders, Micah, is insisting I remind paid subscribers that their quarterly stickers will be mailed this week:

It’s not too late to become a paid member to get one from the next batch.

Micah also wants me to tell you that if your address has changed, reply to this email and let us know! Wow, Micah is so needy …

As with any topic online, the perspectives came from all different directions. I want to first acknowledge the numerous people who wrote in, talking about their own sexual assault. I’m in awe of your bravery. We heard from a millennial woman, who echoed what I had mentioned in our video about why survivors “play down” assaults.

And this response -- where Cornell's Jane Doe played it down? That's very, very familiar to me. Because I, too, compartmentalized it, played it down, and just...kept living my life.

And this person spoke about what it’s like working as a woman in a haunted house.

If you looked like a woman, you got catcalls and harassment from some of the men. Sometimes it was because they actually wanted something. More often? It was because those men genuinely got spooked, and they knew that kind of harassment gave them power. They knew they could scare the performer back. Basically, they knew sexual harassment was a weakness they could exploit, to regain some power over their situation.

We also heard from someone who sent the same email three times, riddled with “corrections” over facts that I did not assert. We don’t know for sure, but we suspect this was part of a coordinated campaign…

One reader, a self-described left-leaning independent. wrote in about my framing of the topic.

In your newsletter, you framed different people as the 'heroes' and 'villains' of this. And while I agree that certain individuals (namely the perpetrators) were in fact extremely wrong in their actions, other people, such as the district attorney and the lawyers for the defendants, were hired to do a job. 

The volatile language you used in your newsletter is exactly the kind of thing that leads to these people receiving death threats (like the district attorney did).

Upon some reflection, I mostly agree with this point. Simplifying people as ‘heroes’ or ‘villains’ doesn’t really help in any situation. To be clear, the district attorney’s office handled this case very poorly in my opinion. Still, I think it’s fair to say that sorting people into two groups was not fair. Thank you, reader!

Perhaps the most common response was a general frustration. One reader wrote:

Regardless of what happens in this case, I don't expect it to lead to a culture change. The result may be cathartic, but it won't be systemic. Because all this is happening in an environment in which we still don't have all the Epstein files in defiance of a federal law that received near unanimous approval. 

They later added:

If you're a man who actually likes and respects women, it's pretty easy to join them in condemning the Cornell 7 and the cover-up. But I think a lot of regular guys, guys who haven't actually assaulted anyone or have any plans to, at some subconscious level identify with the perpetrators. 

I could really feel the frustration from this emailer, a young white man in Canada.

But once this leaves the news cycle, white men are still going to go on abusing their privilege like this again and again. 

Because they get away with it. 

Because WE let them. 

They wondered, like many readers, if this news cycle would eventually tire out and we would all move on. Some of you suggested that it’s just too hard to handle.

This young man echoed some of my feelings from the newsletter, that we can only take so many negative stories like this at a time:

For me, I have to regulate how much I think about the horrible things that people do to others because it puts me in really dark places sometimes.

As did this reader, a young man from Bolivia, where he says sexual assault is common among public and private universities.

I'm more encouraged to talk about nice news, and I do as a way to prevent myself from seeing a too negative world.

Many other people wrote about the impact of men not talking about this case to other men.

And when men, even good men, remain quiet or only say a very small amount, when they are not outraged, marching, talking TO ONE ANOTHER so women can hear it, and advocating for not only better policies but for better consistent work in our society to bring about cultural change, they are complicit. 

A young woman from Italy wrote:

I think that men don't talk about it because it's hard to acknowledge something horrible could happen to a person. Sure, there are some elements of silence culture and othering Miss Doe, which are standard in a misogynistic world, but by and large the banality of evil rests on the denial of evil itself.

Another young woman, who just got her bachelor’s degree in political science, spoke on this as well:

I assume that those who don’t speak out understand, deep down, that if they push back against the system they were raised in and benefit from, they could end up on the other end of the spectrum and be oppressed even in a small social capacity; instead of a monetary, physical, or psychological way that the oppressed side of the spectrum feel. It’s about maintaining the status quo and not rocking the boat.

She also addressed the systemic issues I alluded to in the newsletter:

Western male masculinity revolves around dominance and superiority, which is why we have the rape culture we have.

In the newsletter, I had said that I didn’t believe fraternities were necessarily the problem, but society writ large. This reader pushed back.

Honestly, trying to say that people who condemn fraternities are "generalizing" is not unlike people who talk of "bad apples" whenever police violence is brought to the spotlight again (saying this as a black woman). but any woman can tell you frats are uniquely dangerous.

This reader also wrote about fraternities originating from “a patriarchal, white supremacist culture.” This is absolutely true. I think I may have a different philosophical approach to a problem like this, which is that I believe many broken systems can and should be fixed from within. That said, this reader may ultimately be right. I really don’t know. But they gave me a whole lot to think about.

We also heard directly from people who had been members of a fraternity in college. One person, from Chicago, had been the Risk Manager at their fraternity. They spoke about all the deep-rooted rules put in place that lead to cases like what happened at Cornell (and seemingly every college with fraternities).

In many places, because of laws that make it illegal for people under 21 to drink, frats or other dangerous clubs serving alcohol have all the power because they control the location and the supply of alcohol. 

Putting young men with undeveloped brains in charge of alcohol supply sure does sound like a terrible idea! This reader also provided solutions:

1. All frats need to be coed to even out gender dynamics, control of space and alcohol

2. Drinking age must be 18-this would let a lot of people just go to bars instead of being forced to frat houses where they feel unsafe

These are intriguing solutions. One literally requires a change in the law, but I have heard this argument before.

We also heard from a Cornell grad who had been in a fraternity.

When I joined, it was a place focused on community and supporting each other. We helped each other study, played games together, volunteered, and raised money for various charities. We also drank together and threw parties, but that was not the focus, at least at first.

The Cornell alum also brought up something that has been in the back of my mind all week: ‘The Manosphere.’

Rape culture is fostered by fraternities, but it isn't limited to them. I am deeply worried about the young men today who engage with the manosphere, and how it warps their views on masculinity, women, and consent. 

And this is where I acknowledge to you, dear reader, that I had a similar college experience. I joined a fraternity just like this person described. My fraternity, Delta Upsilon, unlike the vast majority of fraternities, is the world’s oldest “non-hazing” and “public fraternity.” This means that every event and meeting is open to the public. There is a zero-tolerance policy for hazing and anyone can attend every part of the initiation process. This has fostered a national fraternity with, to my knowledge, a far better record than any private fraternities (which include Chi Phi).

Like this person, I am stuck between the uniquely good experience I had with my genuinely good fraternity brothers and the reality that most other people live in, where, as a reader above put it, frats are “uniquely dangerous.”

Cornell is an institution I dearly love. The university has done a tremendous amount of good for me and many people I know.

It seems to me that the bubble we all live in has to be popped for any progress. And for the men afraid to speak up against it, that discomfort is only a fraction of the pain victims feel and continue to feel their entire lives.

Finally, one reader, who had been a victim of sexual assault just four months ago, was grateful for the coverage but wanted me to share this:

I understand why some of your readership may be asking those around them to participate in the conversation, but I hope they’ll accept, without prying, when the answer is no. 

I hope you’ll watch our latest episode of ‘What’s Your Source?’ Last week we answered a listener voicemail about all the food recalls. Is it RFK Jr.’s fault?