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The Tufts Daily
Where you read it first | Sunday, September 8, 2024

Should universities have their own drinking ages?

Unique drinking laws for universities. How attractive it seems, the opportunity to drink legally while polishing that paper or arguing with a fellow student about how to save the world! Yet not only do I consider this to be an ineffective idea, I think it's entirely counterproductive to the American idea — universal freedom — that it is intended to further.

First, to avoid the risk of losing an audience, I will make a starting concession: I wholeheartedly believe we should lower, or remove, the drinking age. I see no reason beyond arbitration why 21 ought to mark a magical point of trustworthiness in anyone's life — it doesn't even seem like a particularly good average. I would be plenty happy to see the drinking age amended on college campuses, and everywhere else at the same instant, albeit with certain qualifications.

There is, of course, nothing new about this debate. The drinking age is perhaps the last great age restriction in America that warrants widespread criticism — at least until sixth graders awaken with the pressing desire to drive. As such, a number of systems have been already proposed for how to effectively reform drinking legislation. Some, like that supported by former Tufts president Larry Bacow, advocate for requiring a license to drink not unlike that required to operate an automobile, holding as a prerequisite that applicants take a class to better understand the risks and responsible means for alcohol consumption.

What a world this is, where rather than suddenly finding themselves thrust into legality and expected to make responsible decisions despite perhaps never having even been around alcohol, people must earn the privilege to engage in precarious but rewarding social behavior. Something of this sort has actually been implemented already on many college campuses — any Tufts student should, although he or she may well not, remember the pre−orientation online alcohol education program required the summer before his or her freshman year.

But I've spoken to many a friend, myself included, who gave that entirely uncompelling course little more than cursory attention. An actual class, however, could be developed and structured with all the inspiration and content that one might find in, say, an alcoholic recovery program. Whether you like Alcoholics Anonymous or not, it's certainly more effective in preventing binge drinking than an online quiz about drinking statistics.

This speaks, I think, to the heart of the problem of only implementing such a change on university campuses. What exactly makes them especially worthy of liberty from prohibition? Sure, they're institutions of education (perhaps better described as buffets — in the end, your choices and self−motivation are what make the letters after your name meaningful or not) but that doesn't necessarily mean that students are going to act more responsibly if given the opportunity, than would, say, their peers stationed on military bases.

Sure, college students are less likely to be found in a driver's seat or in a factory with heavy machinery, where drunkenness is most treacherous. Setting aside the still−lofty number of college students who do drive or work in on−campus labs, it doesn't seem like targeting certain segments of the population with drinking freedom will do anything to fix the existing problem of intoxicated driving. I'm a firm believer that education, not necessarily legislation, is the best way to combat irresponsibility or cruelty; implementing new drinking laws coupled with new and creative educational outlets to dissuade people from accompanying their boozing with reckless behavior seems a far more effective strategy for securing road and workplace safety.

But why not as a first step? Why not take these already developed, informed ideas about lowering the drinking age — perhaps via requiring a drinking license, perhaps by transferring resources from law enforcement to education on the effects of dangerous habits — and give them a maiden voyage on the stereotypical site of underage violation, the college campus? Why go all−or−nothing on your first roll?

I think the simplest way to say it is: America is not a United States of college campuses. Going directly to university out of high school is not the norm in many areas of this country, and that absolutely must be taken into account when deciding how best to amend the existing drinking restrictions. It is commonly noted: if you're old enough to join the military and perhaps die for the ideals of your country, why can't you do so with a legal whiskey in your hand? Are we truly best serving the young people of our nation, who want the opportunity to engage in a mature social activity, by limiting the freedom from strict drinking legislation only to those lucky enough to find themselves at a college?

No, it seems that if we are to claim that the existing laws prohibiting alcohol consumption based on age are misinformed, then we should free every eligible young man and woman from those burdens regardless of what institution they find themselves a part of. I find the idea of a license to be the most attractive way to offer people under 21 the luxury to drink.

Let's give everyone the equal opportunity to prove their responsibility. Let's remove this archaic reliance upon arbitrations of age from our law books entirely, not just in certain segments of the population, and replace it with a healthy, informed alternative. Let's fight irresponsibility everywhere, and fight it with the clever blade of education.

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Walker Bristol is a sophomore majoring in

religion.