Eating Clubs: The Princeton Paradigm

The recent discussion regarding Bicker has attracted much interest and discussion, but as much as I am glad that the dialogue is active, I’d like to present another question to the debate: Why do we still have Bicker? Or for that matter, eating clubs. Is it because Princeton students really do want it, or is it because it has always been so?

Very recently, sophomores decided on their dining choices as upperclassmen in what will probably be one of the most critical decisions of their time at Princeton. And while there are many possible options (co-ops, residential colleges or going independent) for sophomores, it is always assumed that a student will most probably join an eating club. Any other option is an “alternative,” just as the vast majority of the job market is an “alternative choice” to “traditional” tech, finance or consulting careers for Princeton students. Joining an eating club is the default option, and you would need a good reason not to join one.

Over the last two months, I have approached a lot of my friends with this question: “Why did you decide to join an eating club?” While most initial responses were based on preserving their groups of friends, I didn’t really understand how social circles were going to be preserved if they were going to be distributed without certainty in mostly selective (and arbitrary) eating clubs. After a few more rounds of prodding, most of my friends confessed that their decisions to join eating clubs were because it is an integral part of “the Princeton experience.” After all, the eating clubs are distinctive of Princeton and they are the most prominent of the social settings on campus, present since 1855. Alumni are recognized by their eating club affiliations as much as, if not more than, their concentrations.

Thus, as a bid to be part of it, we perpetuate this Princeton tradition: a tradition of exclusive institutionalized social spaces that many students are critical of, but most of whom join anyway, out of resignation, because it is “the Princeton thing to do.”Parallels may be drawn to other historical institutions that were perpetuated merely because of the conformity of community members. The spectrum of these historical institutions includes extremes such as racially segregated restaurants, and speak of the need of community members to be self-critical.

Even before being critical of eating clubs, I am critical of this attitude of conformity that joining an eating club is an integral part of “the Princeton experience.” Nearly a third of our current upperclassmen has decided not to join one, and I do not feel that we can invalidate their experiences in any way. And at the end of the day, “the Princeton experience” is what we make of it, not a blind subscription to historical precedents. After all, before 1969, the Princeton experience exclusively meant being male.

If we take a step further back, I feel it is imperative to question the phenomenon of eating clubs. Should social spaces be closed? Should my ability to interact with someone be institutionalized? And if so, should the University sanction and support such institutions? (Though located outside the University, Princeton extends a lot of resources to the eating clubs such as technological support and institutional collaboration.)

Most retort against the selectivity and exclusivity of eating clubs by saying that Princeton itself is selective. But Princeton is an academic institution with limited academic and physical resources. Princeton admitted 50 students more than expected in 2012 and had to make many adjustments in order to accommodate everyone. But the primary resource that eating clubs offer are social spaces (the significance of physical spaces and other resources offered by eating clubs can be questioned) and the numbers they admit are often arbitrary; so is the selectivity justified? The effect of size on social dynamics of communities and its relevance must be questioned.

Through campaigns such as Hose Bicker, it is important for the Princeton community to reflect on the role and impact of eating clubs in Princeton.But I feel it is even more significant for each individual to evaluate what they truly want from the Princeton experience, including their choice of dining for the next year. Thus, I ask Princeton sophomores to think carefully before deciding to spend around $10,000 to join an exclusive institutionalized social space. Or before deciding to cook or buy meals regularly. But I hope that we make our Princeton experience what we want it to be, not what we were told it should be.

Avaneesh Narla is a sophomore from Kolkata, India. He can be reached at avaneesh.narla@princeton.edu.