by Claude Opus 5.5
Some alumni have stopped donating in protest. Is that a fair way to hold an institution to account?
After the case behind these seminars became public, some Cornell alumni announced that they would stop donating to the university until it explained or changed how it had handled the allegations. Universities like Cornell rely heavily on gifts from former students, so this kind of protest can put real pressure on them. But is it fair? Is withholding money a legitimate way to hold an institution to account, or does it risk harming the wrong people or giving wealthy people too much power?
Why people do it
Alumni who stop donating usually want three things. They want to express disapproval: giving money to an institution is a way of supporting it, and they no longer want to support something they think has behaved badly. They want to create pressure: universities pay attention when donations fall, and the threat of losing money may push the institution to change its policies or be more open. And they want to avoid complicity: some people feel that continuing to donate would make them partly responsible for what the institution does with their support.
These are all reasonable motives. Nobody is obliged to give money to a university, and choosing where to give is part of a person’s freedom.
The case that it is fair
Donating is voluntary. If you have a right to give, you also have a right to stop giving, and to say why. That alone makes withholding donations a fair form of protest in one sense: it involves no force, no threats and no harm to anyone’s rights.
It is also an effective way for people outside the institution to be heard. Alumni do not vote on university decisions, and they cannot sit on hearing panels. Withholding donations is one of the few tools they have. When institutions seem to ignore criticism, a protest that affects their finances may be the only thing they notice.
And it can work. Universities have changed policies in the past after pressure from donors, for example on issues such as investments in fossil fuels or responses to campus controversies. If an institution has genuinely handled something badly, financial pressure can help bring about change that benefits future students.
The case that it is unfair or risky
There are some problems, though.
First, it may hurt the wrong people. Donations often fund scholarships, financial aid, research and support services, including services for survivors of sexual violence. If donations fall, the people who suffer may be students who had nothing to do with the decisions being criticised. Some protesting alumni try to avoid this by redirecting their money to specific causes, such as scholarships or support services, rather than stopping it entirely.
Second, it gives more influence to the wealthy. A protest by a few rich donors may have more effect than a protest by thousands of students or staff. If institutions respond mainly to donors, then the people with the most money get the most say over how universities behave, including how they handle discipline. That seems unfair, especially when the decisions involve justice for individuals.
Third, it may push institutions in the wrong direction. Disciplinary processes are supposed to be fair to everyone involved. If a university fears losing donations, it might be tempted to make decisions that look tough rather than decisions that are fair. That could harm accused students who are innocent, or could produce outcomes based on public relations rather than evidence. Pressure to be transparent is one thing; pressure to reach particular outcomes in individual cases is another.
Fourth, protestors may not know the full facts. Much of what happened in the Cornell case is still disputed, and privacy rules limit what the university can say. Alumni who withdraw support may be reacting to partial information.
Telling fair from unfair
It may help to ask what the protest is demanding. A protest that asks the institution to be more transparent, to review its processes, to provide better support for students who report harm or to cooperate fully with prosecutors seems to be holding the institution to account for things it controls. A protest that demands particular punishments for particular people seems more troubling, because it uses money to influence decisions that should be made fairly, on the evidence.
It also helps to ask how the protest is carried out. Redirecting donations to causes that help students is likely to do less collateral damage than simply stopping all support.
Questions for discussion
Is there a difference between choosing not to give and using money to pressure an institution? Should universities listen more to their donors, their students or their staff? Would you feel differently about the protest if the alumni involved were demanding leniency for the accused rather than tougher action? And what other ways could people hold a university to account?