The Cornell Seven and the institutional nature of rape

Sunday 9/27/26

Reading about the alleged gang rape by seven men--"frat brothers"--at Cornell is stomach-turning. This was said to have gone on for seven hours. That's longer than it takes to have open heart surgery. The woman was drugged. So she's lying there unconscious or drifting in and out of consciousness or in whatever state of wakefulness, and these men took turns. One of them sent out a group text saying, "Free pussy." Presumably, others who didn't partake saw this and chose to do and say nothing. You'd think that everyone in the fraternity saw that text and understood what was happening.

This is both hard to envision--as something that human beings could do to another human being--and, alas, a kind of norm. Things like this are happening all over the place. In so-called institutions of higher learning, certainly. But that's not an exclusive arena for such bestial criminality. There's more evil than not in this world. What is far, far, far, far, far, far less common is that evil ever becoming public knowledge. 99.9999% of the time, no one is the wiser, no one gets caught, news doesn't get out. Nor was the response from Cornell surprising at all either. They had the men--or most of them, anyway--write essays on the subject of sexual assault, which would be a laughable conceit relative to the enormity of the transgression were it not absurdly beyond the pale in the benignity of its response to evil, but also so revealing--"on brand"--of our society and how it really works.

It's a part of the DNA of these institutions and the people of them to run cover for each other. We see it all the time with publishing. I don't know what will happen with this woman's lawsuit against Cornell. No one does. Her life is forever altered either way. But I also know that these seven men, regardless of the legal outcome, are done in this world in all probability, a qualification I make because I can think of an example where a rapist was given a cushy job by someone in a similar field, after having their "fall." This event at Cornell happened a couple years ago. You'll hear in the next day or two that these men amongst the seven who graduated and have jobs have been fired from those companies, institutions.

The truth is that virtually no one is going to do the right thing unless they're made to (which isn't actually doing the right thing). That's simply how it is. It's a deeper truth in 2026 than at perhaps any time prior with what we have made this world and ourselves--our species--into. Whenever someone apologizes, whenever there's sanctioning, punishment, it is because that person or group was made to do or be any combination of those things and/or was trying to keep something/continue receiving something. The act of accountability is just that--an act--and it's a self-serving one. Contrition basically doesn't exist, to say nothing of penance with the amount of time and the continuous effort, energy, humility, and intentional, dutiful focus it requires. I'm not sure more than a dozen of us are capable of it anymore.

One thinks about the parents of these seven men (or the siblings; the sisters). How do you ever look your child in the eyes again? Well, I guess one answer to that question is, "Quite easily, thanks," because of the apple and the tree from which it fell being as proximate as they're likely to be.

Money is a factor here. The entitlement that comes with money. The "I can behave any way I want" aspect of classism. Again, we see it over and over with publishing. Academia and publishing are closeted worlds. Walled away. Within those walls, bad things happen. Are tolerated, accepted as the norm. Are even considered how one ought to be and behave. The good person is regularly viewed as the bad person to the people in these worlds.

There is no healthy, moral reason for fraternities to exist. Has anything good ever come from one? What is their "value"? At "best"? In other words, not for the hazing and serving as rape dens. The answer: the eventual hook up in the workforce. The secret handshake. Cronyism. Getting something one doesn't deserve or hasn't earned because of who one knows or having been a member of this thing in common. Again, same idea as publishing. It's also no coincidence, of course, that most of the people in publishing are from a small group of schools like this, typically an Ivy. Fan favorite J. Robert Lennon, for instance, has long been a Cornell mainstay.

And speaking of Lorin Steining: is it any surprise that Lorin Stein went to school at two "exclusive" prep schools in the Sidwell Friends School (current tuition: $60,000 per year) and the Potomac School (current tuition: $55,000 per year), before going to Yale? The person born entitled, though without any talent, the silver spooner, the person who never actually earns, the person who believes that what they want should automatically be theirs, is then apt to have those behaviors, beliefs, attitudes, reinforced in these institutions, making them increasingly emboldened in those behaviors, beliefs, attitudes. This isn't a case of second nature becoming first nature; it's what was long first nature becoming "firster," if you will.

You see people treating this situation at Cornell like it's endemic to Cornell, which is a grave disservice to women in general. This is happening throughout the land. You happened to learn about it this particular time. Meanwhile, it occurred somewhere last night. Something along similar lines.

The victims usually don't come forward. That's its own ordeal. An ordeal on top of an ordeal. When they do, they're treated as if they're the criminal. The institution seeks to silence them and protect itself. That person is already just trying to survive--literally, if you like--in their here and now. While also having to attend to their lives, whatever that entails. Going to class, going to work, both. When it must be so difficult to get out of bed or do anything.