Suspending the investigation raises many questions

Chancellor Holden Thorp’s decision to suspend the Honor Court investigation into complaints of harassment by Landen Gambill is, by his own reckoning, a unique one in the history of the University.

It’s not surprising that Thorp has chosen this moment to put on full display the paradox of an honor system that is ostensibly student-run, but ultimately refers “all matters of student discipline” to the chancellor. Both he and his administration have been subjected to media scrutiny and popular outrage on the issue.

But a suspension of the complaint is not a dismissal of the complaint. If it were, it would be antithetical to the principle of student self-governance, for better or for worse.

Rather, the suspension presents an opportunity to re-evaluate how the University handles complaints like this.

If a complainant feels he or she has been wronged, then the complainant deserves the chance to have the grievance heard.

In this particular case, the complaint would seem to fall squarely into the domain of the Honor Court. But the fact that the complaint stems from an allegation of sexual assault complicates the issue.

Last year, the University prudently removed sexual assault cases from the jurisdiction of the Honor Court. It did so in response to a “Dear Colleague” letter from the Department of Education instructing universities on how to comply with Title IX regulations on sexual assault policy.

This complaint of harassment does not explicitly fall under Title IX and should, under a strict reading of the Instrument of Student Judicial Governance, be within the jurisdiction of the Honor Court.

But because it can’t consider this case without considering — to some degree — the original sexual assault allegations, the Honor Court’s role here is unclear.

In fact, the Honor Court’s role in general has become unclear.

By suspending the case, Thorp has torpedoed his own repeated claims that the business of the student-run honor system isn’t his prerogative.

There is still good to be found in this contradiction, in that it has provided the University community the chance to improve its honor system.

Administrators, Honor Court leaders and the student body in general need to come to a clearer conclusion as to what they want from the self-governance they have long touted.

Removing sexual assault cases from the system was wise. But what about the other issues that remain under its purview?

When asked about why driving under the influence of alcohol is handled by the Honor Court, the administration throws up its hands and replies that since students decades ago included it in the student instrument, the administration’s hands are tied.

But Thorp, in this suspension, has shown that the way in which perceived violations are handled isn’t set in stone. There’s a genuine discussion to be had about just how expansive the scope of the student judicial system should be.

That discussion, however, shouldn’t be held only whenever a particular case winds its way into the national spotlight.

The University’s approach to handling complaints needs to be done comprehensively and methodically.

Ad hoc policy changes aren’t enough to guarantee satisfactory outcomes for both present and future cases.

The complaint against Gambill is an emotional one for all parties and needs proper resolution. It has also drawn attention to the larger issue of what it means for students to govern themselves.