When I learned the news that Sigma Nu lost its chapter recognition from the University of Utah for hazing and other policy violations, I was initially excited. In the way that I, alongside many of us, have been taught to conceptualize justice and accountability, this is a success: The “bad guy” has been removed — Sigma Nu is no longer active on the U’s campus.
Yet, as someone who works in violence prevention, I believe that we need to reconsider what we mean when we talk about accountability. Sigma Nu’s removal from campus may feel good; it may feel like justice. But I believe that real accountability is found when we imagine and enact something more transformative than punishment.
The offenses committed by active Sigma Nu members, alongside alumni, were egregious and harmful. I’d even argue that some of what these individuals were accused of could be considered sexually violating — forced viewing of pornography, taking new members to a strip club without informed consent and threatening sexual acts as punishment for not doing chores — regardless of the alleged ability for new pledges to stop at any time. Still, these actions were not shocking. It is not a secret that fraternities haze. So do many other close, tight-knit, exclusive groups. Hazing is not just a Sigma Nu problem, and it’s not just a Greek life problem; it is found in sports teams, workplaces and even friend groups.
So what does it mean that Sigma Nu was removed from campus? Many of us have heard the term “cancel culture,” which speaks to a willingness to remove, silence or punish individuals or groups that have been deemed by the public consciousness to be bad. In this framework, accountability is equated with disappearance. So here comes Sigma Nu, a fraternity with a long history of hazing and harm in an environment primed for cancellation. Removal, in this case and many others, is considered accountability.
To me, however, it seems that this response to harm only motivates change in the name of fear of punishment — which is documented as a less than effective way to get people to engage in long term, substantial change — and instead reinforces secrecy and disincentives having an open environment of sharing experiences of both causing and experiencing harm.
“Accountability.” Any of us who tuned into Hulu’s “Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” knows how flippantly this term is thrown around. But, what is accountability? Is accountability removal and punishment? I would argue no. And what I’m about to say may sound fantastical and unrealistic, yet I still think that we, as Utahns, can shift what we consider accountability to support the creation of communities that we want to live in.
Danielle Sered, a restorative justice practitioner, describes accountability as a series of five steps, including acknowledgment of responsibility for our own actions, acknowledgment of the impact of our actions, an expression of genuine remorse, actions to repair harm and no longer engaging in those harmful actions. Unfortunately, our current systems (of education, criminal justice, even social services) do not prioritize accountability. Instead, they emphasize punishment and compliance. This leaves little space to try new things that may foster change, when written in our policies and social contracts is the presence of rote education and punitive consequences.
Let’s look at Sigma Nu through this lens of accountability. To be clear, I am not faulting the University of Utah for Sigma Nu’s actions. They engaged in proactive and responsive intervention and prevention efforts that aimed to stop what was happening. These efforts failed because we, widely, don’t know how to hold ourselves and other people accountable. I imagine a world where members of Sigma Nu could be supported to engage in deep reflection and apology, relevant and timely education, and on an even wider scale, for their cultivation of empathy to have been so significant that their actions would have been unthinkable in the first place.
Accountability should not be reduced to removal or cancellation. True accountability means change, and change requires empathy, reflection and repair. If we want our communities to be safer and more just, we must start first by practicing accountability ourselves and with the people close to us, laying the groundwork for our institutions to do the same. We all deserve more than fear and secrecy. We deserve growth.
(Tillie Powell) Tillie Powell is the graduation assistant at the McCluskey Center for Violence Prevention and a Master’s of Social Work student.
Tillie Powell is the graduation assistant at the McCluskey Center for Violence Prevention and a Master’s of Social Work student.
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