As reports have unfolded around allegations of sexual assault and other forms of hazing in the Northwestern University football program, many find themselves trying to make sense of what is senseless. How could such hazing have occurred under the noses of coaches? Why weren’t the incidents reported earlier? Why would student-athletes engage in such dehumanizing behavior?
The harsh realities of hazing are often overlooked until a high-profile incident makes headlines.
The harsh realities of hazing are often overlooked until a high-profile incident makes headlines, which causes so many to be stunned at such reports. But as a researcher who has studied hazing and its prevention for more than two decades, I found the reports of hazing at Northwestern deeply troubling but, sadly, not surprising. We have known about the prevalence of hazing in college sports since at least 1999 when Nadine Hoover and Norm Pollard partnered with the NCAA to survey intercollegiate athletes, finding that 79% had experienced hazing and 1 in 5 were subjected to “unacceptable and potentially illegal hazing including being forced to participate in crimes.” Almost 10 years later, another study found that 74% of college athletes — and 47% of high school athletes — were hazed. And a 2019 study of students at seven universities with a demonstrated commitment to preventing hazing found that, still, 43% of athletes had experienced it.
Statistics reveal how widespread hazing is and that any particular occurrence is not an aberration but part of a systemic problem. Specific headlines about hazing help illuminate its consequences.
The Northwestern incident closely follows the recent $8 million settlement related to hazing in the New Mexico State University men’s basketball team. Beyond athletics, significant hazing settlements were also awarded early this year to the families of Max Gruver ($6.1 million) and Stone Foltz ($2.9 million). Cases in Wall, New Jersey, and Danvers, Massachusetts, bear striking resemblance to reported high school locker room hazing in Mepham, New York, in 2004 and again in 2014 in Sayreville, New Jersey. And recent fraternity hazing deaths in Virginia, Ohio, Washington and Kentucky echo the tragic loss of Chuck Stenzel, who was killed in a fraternity hazing at Alfred University in New York state in 1978.
Stenzel’s mom, Eileen Stevens, is credited with pushing New York lawmakers to pass its anti-hazing statute in the early 1980s. She worked tirelessly for almost two decades telling her son’s story at more than 800 college campuses and appearing on national television to draw attention to the insidious nature of hazing that is often disguised as tradition. Following in her footsteps, many parents continue to advocate for stronger anti-hazing statutes and share their stories of loss in hopes of preventing further tragedy. Meeting these and other parents whose children carry physical and/or psychological scars from hazing, I have seen first-hand the resulting devastation.
But in the decades since Chuck was killed, there have been more than 163 hazing deaths and countless incidents of sexual assault, physical assault and other forms of hazing abuse impacting a wide range of groups and individuals at colleges and universities including athletics, fraternities and sororities, performing arts organizations like marching bands, club sports, and even honor societies. Beyond campus, the negative impact of hazing is also felt in high schools, community organizations, the military and other workplaces. A national study found that more than 55% of college students belonging to clubs, teams and organizations had experienced hazing, and 25% of these reported that coaches and/or advisers were aware of the activities. As many as 1 in 4 of those who reported such hazing also reported that coaches and/or advisers were aware of the activities.
The disturbing details of the reported Northwestern football hazing — including forced naked acts and a practice called “running” in which veteran team members would restrain and “dry hump” a teammate in a dark locker room — make moral judgment calls less difficult. Sexual assault is completely unacceptable. But in many cases, the abuse of power in hazing may not be so clear-cut. Even when those who’ve been around longer expect rookies or newcomers to participate in seemingly benign activities, unequal power dynamics and coercive pressure can increase the likelihood of hazing.
The disturbing details of the reported Northwestern football hazing make moral judgment calls less difficult.
Hazing behaviors fall on a continuum of abuse but power, control and coercion are always key characteristics. The power dynamics of hazing are more obvious when physical power is used to perpetrate abuse. Yet, other forms of power also shape how hazing unfolds. Power inherent in gender norms (e.g., expectations to uphold dominant notions of masculinity), economic power (for example, athletic scholarships and the threat of losing the means to finance a college education), and the power embedded in racial dynamics at, for example, a historically white university, are a few examples of complex ways in which power differentials can contribute to hazing and create a barrier to reporting.
If we value the well-being of children and young adults in our lives, then hazing has no place in our athletic programs, schools, campuses and communities. Building on principles from the public health field, I led the development of the first research-informed hazing prevention framework to provide a road map for change. Visible leadership messaging and accountability are vital starting points, yet they are not enough by themselves to sustain a shift in hazing cultures. Individuals, like the courageous Northwestern athletes who came forward, can make a difference by recognizing the potential harm from hazing, understanding the power dynamics that contribute to its complexity and taking action to report it. Each of us can help by learning some of the red flags of hazing (for example, chronic fatigue and other behavioral changes, such as disrupted patterns of communication or withdrawing from loved ones and friends while joining or participating on a team or another type of group), knowing how to report it and supporting those who were hazed by speaking up when hazing is minimized. Toward that end, let’s be clear: Hazing is not harmless fun and that’s why 44 states have prohibited it by law and why proposed federal legislation (the Stop Campus Hazing Act) is poised to require college campuses to educate about hazing and report hazing incidents. Hazing prevention is not only about eliminating harm and senseless suffering, but it’s also about gaining something. In the absence of hazing, we can build stronger and healthier groups, more ethical and caring leaders, and more inclusive communities that support student mental health and well-being. The alarming reports of hazing at Northwestern are a clarion call for prevention and, with that, an opportunity for each of us to transform the hazing culture and create safer schools and campuses for our students.
Elizabeth Allan
Elizabeth Allan is a professor of higher education at the University of Maine. She was the principal investigator for the National Study of Student Hazing (2008) and is currently directing the Hazing Prevention Consortium, a national college and university research-to-practice initiative designed to build an evidence base for hazing prevention. She was the lead researcher for the first data-driven hazing prevention framework (2018) and directs the work of StopHazing. She has shared her research and expertise related to hazing for the U.S. Senate HELP Committee, the U.S. Department of Defense, and at national and international conferences, institutes and workshops. 
