The century-old, student-run Honor System is one of Washington and Lee’s most distinctive qualities. It undoubtedly shapes daily life on campus, guiding our academic pursuits, fostering our sense of mutual obligation and granting us freedoms and conveniences that we would most certainly not otherwise be afforded. I would even categorize first-year Honor Orientation as one of the most pivotal moments of a student’s time at W&L, laying the functional and philosophical foundation for the ethical framework that defines their college career. 

The Honor System was one of the central reasons that I chose to attend W&L. As a high school senior, I was struck by the sight of unattended MacBooks casually sprawled on library tables. It was at that moment that I knew W&L was a special place. The sense of trust was palpable. To this day, I recognize how the Honor System binds us to each other. It provides all of us, current students, alumni, faculty and staff with a common ground from which authentic connection can flourish. I deeply value the Honor System and firmly believe that without it, we would all be worse off. 

While I recognize its immense benefits, I do not see our Honor System as perfect. Rather, I believe that it is time for an intentional reevaluation of what a system of honor truly entails, especially when it comes to the administering of punishment. In particular, I refer here to our Honor System’s commitment to a single sanction, that is, delivering one form of penalty, immediate dismissal, to students found guilty of an honor violation (HV).

The White Book states that any action violating campus trust “weakens the bonds that unite the University community.” It insists that “no such breach is small enough to be ignored,” and thus, determines that all threats to the privileges of the Honor System must be subjected to a singular sanction of removal from the university. In theory, this claim makes sense. In order to protect the Honor System, we must rid the campus of any entity with the potential to taint it. The single sanction is thus deemed necessary to preserve the sanctity of our deeply cherished campus ethic. However, this reasoning assumes that sheer removal of the offender resolves the problem. The investigation and hearing process that concludes with the single sanction are pursued in the name of determining guilt, and subsequently, delivering punishment. They do not repair the damage that the violation caused.

If we conceive of an HV as a blemish marring the red walls of the campus community (to utilize appropriate W&L-esque imagery), the single sanction removes the offender, but leaves behind a void—or, perhaps, a missing brick. This process makes no effort to restore the wall to its previous state. Rather, it serves as a lingering reminder that the integrity of the whole has been compromised. Simply removing the individual responsible for the damage does not mend what has been broken. Rather, it leaves the wall in disarray, marking the campus community with a lingering trauma of the incident that the single sanction sought to rectify.

How, then, could the Honor System serve the purpose of reviving an injured community to its previous state of trust? How can we work to address the blemish without sacrificing the structural integrity of the wall itself? We need strategies for restoration, or more specifically, alternative forms of growth-oriented sanctions. 

The fatal flaw of the single sanction is that it attempts to simplify a world abounding in complexity—diluting situations inundated with complicated intentions, circumstances and contexts to a single verdict of “guilty” or “not guilty.” There are varying degrees of dishonorable conduct, and yet, the single sanction treats each violation the same. It seems important to note that other Washington and Lee conduct systems, such as the Student Judicial Council, can levy less severe penalties for arguably more egregious offenses. Such sanction options, including fines, community service, case-specific education or temporary suspension are not in the Executive Committee’s (EC) toolbox. Unlike other conduct bodies, the EC cannot impose penalties tailored to the severity of the violation. It cannot account for the type or frequency of the violation, the student’s background, or, notably, the presence of an apology.

Admitting moral failure is not an easy task. In fact, publicly acknowledging fault and offering a sincere apology is perhaps one of the highest examples of honor. When faced with the options of silently retreating or lying, accepting responsibility should not only be encouraged, but also considered when determining sanctions. This is a choice that would both restore personal integrity and help repair the fracture to community trust that the violation induced. 

As the System currently exists, there is no meaningful avenue for apology or reintegration. Accepting accountability for wrongdoing is effectively disincentivized. In order to protect themselves from the impact of a public dismissal, students found guilty of an honor violation in a closed hearing often choose to privately withdraw. In this way, the Honor System inadvertently encourages students to avoid rather than confront their actions. Only through the open hearing process can a student publicly acknowledge their mistake and make amends—an option that simultaneously exposes them to the possibility of public dismissal from the university, especially if they admit wrongdoing.

A shift toward policies of restoration and reparation would not be unprecedented. In February 2023, University of Virginia students voted to eliminate their single-sanction policy, opting instead for a multi-sanction system in which a panel determines penalties based on the unique circumstances of each case. On its webpage, the University of Virginia says that this switch “reaffirms and reinvigorates students’ commitment” to the “guiding ideals of honor and integrity.” The amendments also included a provision acknowledging a new right for guilty students to recommend their own sanction, an inclusion that emphasizes the university’s shift toward strategies of restorative justice.

A move towards a similar system at Washington and Lee could exist as a means of easing rising concern that the Honor System is nearing its end. It is not a stretch to suggest that the severity of the single sanction deters students and faculty from reporting suspected violations to the EC. On more than one occasion, I’ve heard stories of professors preferring to “handle” instances of cheating or AI use “in-house” to avoid subjecting a student to potential expulsion. A system in which appropriate sanctions are determined on a case-by-case basis could reduce this hesitancy to report honor violations, fostering a more participatory, active Honor System.

This opinion piece is not an attempt at undermining the legitimacy of the Honor System. In fact, I am attempting to do quite the opposite. A shift away from the single sanction should not be seen as an affront to tradition, but rather, as an opportunity to move the Honor System toward a new stage of its history. As a campus, we need to avoid sacrificing nuance in the name of simplicity. The one-size-fits-all model is no longer compatible with campus needs, and we need to recognize how the single sanction is limiting the honor that it intends to enforce. One of the most beautiful aspects of the Honor System is that it isn’t codified, a feature that grants student leaders the freedom to contextually determine how to best advance honor. At this point in our history, a reevaluation of the single sanction may be a way that we can pursue this end. The System directly orders “each generation of students to vigilant custodianship,” and it’s time that we step forward and embrace this call.