By Kira Rich
Editorial Editor
For college students, “It was just a party” can sound like an explanation. For survivors of sexual assault, it can become an excuse.
The Cornell 7 are seven students of Cornell University who were accused of sexually assaulting another student at a Chi Phi fraternity house in 2024.
The case has come back to life nearly two years after the woman, publicly identified as Jane Doe, filed a civil suit claiming she was drugged and sexually assaulted by several fraternity members. New York Attorney General Letitia James has reopened the criminal investigation that previously concluded with no charges.
The legal process should run its course, but we should not ignore what this case says about college culture.
That is almost impossible, according to Cornell’s own data.
The percentage of undergraduate women who said they had experienced nonconsensual sexual contact during their time at Cornell increased from 23% in 2023 to 35% in the 2025 sexual misconduct survey. “Approximately 50 % of respondents had experienced some sort of sexual harassment or gender-based harassment.”
Cornell is just one example of many. Almost half of women and more than 1 in 6 men in the United States have experienced some form of sexual contact violence during their lifetime, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And more than 1 in 5 women and 1 in 31 men have been raped (completed or attempted).
Each of these statistics is more than a number. Each one is a human being. A person with dreams, ambitions, and their own story. None of them thought that they would end up scarred and traumatized, with their life trajectory totally altered.
And yet, colleges, communities, and organizations fail time and time again to demonstrate what real accountability should look like.
Cornell said some expulsions and some suspensions resulted from an internal investigation. The university also said Chi Phi remains banned from campus.
The lawsuit from the alleged victim said that some of the students were given the opportunity to atone for their behavior by writing essays. Since then, Cornell has disputed the idea that the students were simply “punished with essays,” emphasizing that the university imposed a range of consequences, including expulsions and suspensions.
But the fact that “essays” became a part of the discussion when determining accountability raises many questions. When thinking about a crime as violent as sexual assault, the punishment should ideally match the crime’s severity. So what exactly does accountability look like?
Some may argue that expulsions and suspensions are not enough. Others may argue that universities must follow their disciplinary procedures and protect the rights of students accused of misconduct.
Both can be true simultaneously.
Universities must uphold due process and make it clear that they take sexual violence seriously.
That becomes difficult when many details about individual disciplinary outcomes remain private because of student-privacy laws. Universities have to protect student privacy, but students also need to know that their university is willing to respond meaningfully when sexual violence occurs.
There is a difference between privacy and silence.
The public should not have to rely on lawsuits, leaked documents, and old investigations to determine whether a university has meaningfully responded to an alleged assault.
College campuses have spoken out against sexual assault for years and encouraged students to report it all while promising that their concerns will be taken seriously. Unfortunately, those promises mean very little if students believe it will bring them judgment, isolation, or disbelief. There needs to be true community and support awaiting victims if and when they decide to tell their stories. Nothing should have to be kept secret to protect the reputation of anyone or anything.
Cornell itself has acknowledged that sexual assault remains a persistent issue despite years of prevention efforts. Its 2026 Presidential Task Force on Campus Sexual Assault called for changes to campus culture and reiterated that preventing sexual violence cannot be treated as a one-time initiative.
That is the concept the universities need to grasp.
A written policy on a website does not just stop sexual assault from happening. Neither do mandatory trainings or lectures that students complete once a year. And neither does an open-ended investigation.
Prevention has to become part of the culture.
Students need to have a firm understanding of consent before they even step foot on campus, not after a life has been fully altered for the worse. Friends and bystanders should know how to identify when something seems off and speak up. Fraternities and similar organizations need set rules and oversight. And universities need systems that encourage survivors to feel heard and respected if and when they decide to speak up, rather than feeling like they have to prove themselves.
None of this requires abandoning due process.
It requires recognizing that accountability and due process are not opposites.
The Cornell 7 case will ultimately be decided through legal and university processes.
Despite what further action is taken, the broader lesson should not vanish when the headlines do.
College is supposed to be where young adults go to discover themselves, build relationships, establish a community, and plan for the rest of their lives.
No student should have to anticipate sudden danger just because they decided to go to a party or trust a friend.
Universities can’t ensure that terrible things will never happen, but they can ensure that accountability will never be considered optional.
