In our first couple of days as freshmen at Colby College, the small liberal-arts school where I spent four years in the mid-’90s, my classmates and I were educated on the essential pieces of campus lore: Geology was the easiest way to get a science credit, the liquor-store delivery guys never checked IDs, and the Blue Light was not to be extinguished. According to legend, the light—located atop the library and illuminating many campus pathways—would go dark if ever the school graduated a virgin. Keeping the Blue Light burning, then, wasn’t about just sex; it was a matter of public safety.
As far as I could tell, Colby was no lustier than any other school in the country, and at least one friend of mine was still a virgin at 25. But the Blue Light legend (and others like it) provides a durable reminder of a fact easily taken for granted: College kids tend to have sex, sometimes lots of it.
At Harvard University, though, even the most straightforward things have a way of getting complicated. So perhaps it shouldn’t come as a surprise that a campuswide war has broken out over—of all things—intercourse.
It started last November, when a few students, fed up with an increasingly vocal campus abstinence club called True Love Revolution, formed a provocative countergroup. It was named True Lust Revolution, and its mission was simple. Members would meet to discuss and encourage sexual activity, and watch Family Guy. There would even be T-shirts.
In the annals of student activism, this group undoubtedly represents a first (among campus causes, fornication has never really needed advocates). But more than that, it is the surest sign yet that sex is driving Harvard crazy.