And so, as leaves begin to brown, as seersucker makes way for camel-hair, and as cosmopolitan cocktails convert to classic cognacs, we reach many Harvard students’ favorite time of year—punch season.

Let me make my position on this issue perfectly clear from the outset. For fear of being ravaged from all sides of the final club spectrum, I wish to remain apolitical; that is, I seek neither to deter nor defend partaking in these Harvardian rituals. That said, I will happily add that the chance to indulge in the offerings of complimentary alcoholic splendor presents an almost undeniable obligation to attend—for those amongst the chosen few. As you angrily cast away your hand-written invitation in the name of moral righteousness, just think of the worryingly large majority of people who’ll never enjoy the chance to have a Heineken on the house of Harvard’s heavily endowed. Accept your responsibility and RSVP.

But for many on campus the presence of final clubs near the University is no laughing matter; and each punch season represents yet another year passed where alternative groups suffer without any real social space to call their own. But while many will continue to castigate final clubs and their insensitive discrimination—not to say these arguments are without value—they ignore the University’s obligation to provide ample social space for its students.

At present, students are still forced to shoulder the burden for the lack of common social areas on campus. Parties within rooms generally turn into sweaty cesspools, filled with uninvited guests seeking another warm “Beast” before trudging towards the next home-made sauna. Those lucky enough to have hit 21 enjoy the luxury of overpriced bars and an early-ending evening. And, if you’re a first-year, well, how does a hot chocolate in Loker sound for fun?

At the end of the day, final clubs provide the last remaining space for revelers to unwind from the rigors of class. With no closing time and free-flowing beverages, they are an undeniable point of call for many students on campus.

But this presents an unenviable situation for all involved. Club members don’t wish to be solely responsible for the students that the University and Cambridge can’t or won’t accommodate; nor do they wish to be the butt of endless criticism throughout campus for their historic traditions. And for those who disagree with the selective entrance policies, there’s really no alternative, just a slice of bad pizza and an early night’s bed.

Looking back, past attempts to ameliorate this problem have relied invariably upon relatively powerless members of our college community. Individuals seeking abolition of the clubs have failed. The same goes for those members who, interested in change, have met stiff resistance from conservative grad boards. Following these same well-trodden paths will likely lead to failure yet again.

This punch season, whether you fall amongst the ranks of the final club condoners or choose to fight for disestablishment, remember that the first battle must be fought side-by-side. All students must look towards the administration for a better and more equitable system. The only feasible, affordable way for students to acquire usable common space is with some help from Harvard. Hard to swallow though it may be, all students need to align towards achieving the most valuable common goal: finding alternate areas that every Harvard student (male and female) can enjoy together.

Bede A. Moore ’06, a Crimson editorial editor, is a history concentrator in Winthrop House.