The Ivy Council, the association of undergraduate student governments of the Ivy League, broadens the scope of connection between our universities, reaching beyond athletic and academic competition. The Ivy Council nurtures mutually beneficial relationships between our student governments. Collaborating on those tasks that are greater than any single student government is more than the pursuit of enlightened self-interest--it is the construction of an Ivy community.

Unfortunately, however, some members of student governments in the Ivy League do not have the same outlook. This myopic view is a deleterious force, threatening the stability of an organization that can only thrive with continuing commitment from all members.

The Undergraduate Council recently demonstrated more than a trace of Ivy-skepticism. In January, the council resolved to end its permanent affiliation with the Ivy Council unless "substantial progress" was made by the end of the spring semester--substantial progress meaning 10 reforms in the way the Ivy Council conducts business. The council's attitude is similar to a toddler's obstinate, "If you don't play my way I won't be your friend anymore."

While playing the council's way would entail a series of reforms that might be reasonable, the imperious nature with which the requests were made was unreasonable. Directives such as these taint the community relationship the Ivy Council attempts to establish. The Ivy Council constitution, to which all member student governments have agreed, presents fair avenues through which student government concerns may be voiced and resolved. Unwarranted ultimatums fall below the level of maturity and sophistication one would expect from student leaders at a preeminent institution of higher education.

The principle of operating within both the letter and spirit of the rules aside, the pseudo-isolationist attitudes expressed by Ivy-skeptics is as bewildering as those espoused by Pat Buchanan. The Ivy-skeptics' underlying ethos, that student governments act as recluses, is bizarre. Some Ivy-skeptics argue that withdrawing from the Ivy Council would save much-needed money, which could then be used for cash-starved student groups. But casting aside one's natural allies would not be a thoughtful strategy for reducing expenditures.

The pursuit of a policy where instant gratification is more valuable than long-term goals is the result of political expedience. Ivy-skeptics have created a scapegoat for their own self-aggrandizement.

The images painted by Ivy-skeptics of delegates' private drivers, dinners at Le Cirque 2000 and suites at the Carlyle appeal to the Progressive Era portion of our hearts. One is bound to ask, "How can student governments allocate limited funds for the extravagance of a privileged few?" The Crimson staff has already declared that a "weekend getaway with other college councils is not the best use of council funds."

But there is an illusion of grand proportions at work. Any delegate expecting a vacation at Ivy Council conferences is sadly mistaken, and notions of unchecked spending on conferences are deeply flawed. Without disparaging our gracious, most recent hosts at Yale, a more apt description of Ivy Council conferences would be assembling students from eight schools on a shoestring budget.