COLUMN Seeing is believing

From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96 From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96Students and faculty mustFrom Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96Students and faculty mustwork together to defeat the From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96Students and faculty mustwork together to defeat the new judicial charter.From Mike Nadel's "Give 'em Hell," Fall '96Students and faculty mustwork together to defeat the new judicial charter.You would have to see it to believe it. Last Sunday, UTV13 cameras followed Provost Stanley Chodorow to a meeting of the Undergraduate Assembly, two days before the provost released his latest version of the new judicial charter. Instead, Chodorow said that students could read all about the charter in The Daily Pennsylvanian on the day of its release. He said he had scheduled a meeting for the very next day with a DP reporter to explain and answer questions about the charter. It seemed the provost had suddenly become media-savvy. He was going to sit down with reporters and give them with the honest answers one must provide in order to curry favor with journalists. Just one problem. It was a lie, plain and simple.The provost had never talked with any DP reporters about a meeting. None had been scheduled, and none ever occurred. It is foolish to lie -- and even more foolish to lie to journalists. They always find out, and then they never trust you again. In the past, when Chodorow has been quoted saying things he wished he hadn't said, he claimed he'd been misquoted -- an all-too-believable excuse. But this time he got caught on videotape. What was going through his mind is anybody's guess. The incident provides one more bit of proof that administrators don't always do the right thing, and don't always tell the truth. That is why undergraduates, graduate students and faculty members have come together to demand a fair judicial system that protects students from administrative interference and abuse. These demands are nothing new. Because calls for revision have come not just from students, but also from some of the most respected professors at Penn, one might imagine the provost's latest draft would address these concerns -- or at least show some movement toward compromise. Does it? You have to see it to believe it. Hundreds of students go through the judicial system each year, not just the occasional eccentric who calls someone "water buffalo." Students get in trouble for using someone else's PennCard, for drinking in the dorms and for getting into fights at fraternity parties. Not all of these students are guilty. Under the provost's plan, though, justice is anything but a guarantee. The University can do what it likes. Under Chodorow's charter, a student's adviser will be able to speak at a hearing -- but only in "extraordinary circumstances," as determined by an appointee of the provost. An advisor will never be able to cross-examine witnesses. So there you are, a freshman with hopes of starting medical school in a few years and accused of starting a brawl at a party. If you are found guilty, the mark on your record will radically change your future. You are not at fault, but testimony to that effect is ruled inadmissible. You are being prosecuted by the provost's judicial officer -- a lawyer so good that she teaches law to others. To prove your innocence, you must triumph over her. Your adviser can't help you, because the only "extraordinary circumstance" in your case is that the guy who says you hit him happens to be the son of a trustee. The deck is stacked against you. Your recourse is to open the hearing to the public, so everyone can see the kangaroo court in which you are being tried. But under the provost's plan, opening a hearing is up to the University, where concern about bad publicity always triumphs over truth. The hearing board convicts you and recommends a sanction of community service and counseling. But the "victim's" parents don't like that ruling, and -- remarkably -- neither does the provost. The new proposal allows him to do whatever he wants. So you've been thoroughly railroaded, and you think other students need to know what you've learned about the judicial system. Don't think of telling anyone, though -- you'll have to go through it all again. A new twist in Chodorow's latest draft makes it a violation of University rules to tell anyone about any aspect of your case. According to the language of the proposal, if you tell your friends or even your parents about your ordeal, you will be subject "to the appropriate procedures for dealing with such violations." It's unlikely they'd prosecute you for telling Mom you've been suspended, but it would not be wise to tell the press about the way the University manipulated its rules to send you up the river. Then the administration could finish the job. University Council meets today. Council has discussed the judicial charter many times, but it is not now on the agenda. We must hope that some member of Council brings up the issue and motions that Council advise the faculty to reject this latest version. A solid vote might send to the provost a message too powerful to ignore. The judicial charter must allow advisors -- not outside lawyers, but members of the University community who volunteer to help -- to speak and cross-examine witnesses. Hearings must be open at the respondent's request except in cases of rape or sexual assault. Respondents must be free to speak to whomever they wish about their cases. And the provost must not be able to increase the punishment decided on by the hearing board. Council must act. If it fails to, or if its action is once again ignored, the battle must not end. Students must make sure that when ballots are mailed out, the faculty defeats this plan and demands a fair charter in its place. The provost doesn't believe students are capable of this kind of trench warfare, even when our futures are at stake. He'll have to see it to believe it.