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Two young college women present phoney identification cards and
try to order alcoholic drinks at an off-campus restaurant. When
police are called to the establishment, they question the students
and cite them for under-age drinking offences. The event - with
no accidents, deaths or riots - appears unremarkable. But it makes
national news because the young women are Jenna and Barbara Bush,
the Presidents daughters.
Compare that "newsworthy" item to other under-age drinking stories.
Every college term, we hear accounts of students who risk acute
alcohol poisoning during rituals like "21 for 21" - when, on their
21st birthdays, they down a shot of liquor for every year of their
lives. In dormitory rooms and off-campus apartments, students
who feel depressed hole up with bottles of alcohol, start to chug
and are lucky if their supposed cure brings nothing more than
headaches and heaves. Underclassmen attend parties tied to the
Big Game, drink themselves insensible, and fall to their death
off balconies. Its all been in the newspapers and other media,
this shocking waste of promising young lives.
The most common response to accounts of injuries or death among
such "adults" - those old enough to go to war, marry, vote, sign
binding contracts, but not to buy a single draft beer - has been
to further tighten age-based prohibition. Campuses and communities
step up policing measures. Task forces produce ever-more-exotic
ideas about how to quarantine young students from alcoholic beverages
- even those students who demonstrate the ability to drink moderately
and responsibly. Yet despite all the counter measures accompanied
by mounting penalties for breaking the law, the tragedies continue.
Why? Because the system of prohibition that now governs almost
every U.S. institution of higher learning is ineffective and ill-founded.
At freshman-orientation sessions, at least half of the students
are already regular drinkers, according to several national studies.
The traditional newcomer, who is still in the majority on most
campuses, immediately becomes a member of a peculiar demographic
community: Almost everyone is 18-22 years old. Through fraternities,
sororities, other campus organisations, dating, and less-formal
socialising, this narrow age group constantly intermingles. In
any social setting where alcohol is present, the law says those
21 and older may drink beer, wine, and distilled spirits in unlimited
quantities - as long as they do not drive or appear intoxicated
in public. Yet those who are 20 years and 364 days, or younger,
must stick with soft drinks or become lawbreakers.
Should anyone be surprised that zero tolerance is met with rebellion
and rule breaking? Outlandish behaviour is a typical reaction
to prohibition, which is why the illegal speakeasies were always
bawdier than the public bars that the Volstead Act shut down.
Todays age-specific prohibition seems to be working no better
than the 1920s version. Although a smaller percentage of young
adults are now drinking than in the recent past, a sizeable minority
is drinking recklessly.
Whats the solution?
Through our close relations with students over the years - two
of us are professors and one is a student-affairs officer - weve
become keen observers of student drinking and its outcomes. Weve
often wondered why colleges havent developed a system of gradual
access to alcohol beverages for 19- and 20-year-olds. Why not
teach responsible drinking behaviour under supervision, rather
than leave young adults to experiment on their own?
We would like to suggest an alternative to zero- tolerance policies
that are prevalent today: a provisional drinking license. In more
than 30 states, teenage drivers gain experience while holding
special licenses that restrict when and how they may drive - for
example, no late-night cruising is allowed. Such an approach permits
a slow introduction to an adult privilege The same concept should
apply to drinking.
What could be the elements of a provisional drinking license?
There could be time and place restrictions. The license holder
could drink, for example, only in an establishment where at least
75 percent of sales receipts were for food and only before 11pm.
No bar or liquor-store purchases would be permitted. Moreover,
a 19- or 20 year-old would have to undergo formal instruction
about alcohol and pass a licensing exam. Parents and other authorities
could unilaterally revoke or suspend the special license without
which service or consumption would be illegal. In addition, the
provisional license would not be accompanied by any change to
the current zero-tolerance laws, by which drivers under 21 are
considered legally drunk if their blood-alcohol content is greater
than .02 percent.
We realise that a few young people would undoubtedly continue
to drink too much, too fast, in risky setting, or for the wrong
reasons. But for the Jenna and Barbara Bushes of the world (by
all accounts they did not exhibit out-of-control drinking behaviour)
and the vast majority of other college students who are eager
to learn about drinking responsibly but are denied any sensible
opportunities, clandestine over-indulgence could give way to public
self-regulation.
The penalty for the abuse would be revocation of the privilege.
Young people would learn to accept alcohol for what it is: a socially
acceptable beverage in need of respect, not a source of magical
empowerment or easy escape that increases with every gulp. Gone,
too, would be the scenarios that invite contempt for the current
law, such as the inability of two 20 year-olds to drink champagne
at their own wedding.
At the colleges where we teach and work, we delight in seeing
emerging adults grow in academic knowledge and in life skills,
turning before our eyes into competent adults. To leave alcohol
outside that process, the records shows, is foolish and dangerous.
Its time to encourage a moderate approach rather than force more-dangerous
behaviours underground to everyones detriment. Its time to open
the doors to constructive debate and to teach through trust and
potential rather than through blame, accusation, and guilt Its
time to move beyond the forbidden-fruit syndrome - and its tragic
consequences.
David J Hanson is a professor of sociology at the State university
of New York at Potsdam Dwight B. Heath is a professor of anthropology
at Brown University. Joel S. Rudy is a vice president and dean
of students emeritus at Ohio University. Hanson and Heath are
authors of several books on topics dealing with alcohol. |