Honor Code and the Commitment to Personal Integrity
When I first read about Princeton’s decision to reinstitute proctors to monitor students’ honesty while taking exams, I was disappointed that it was necessary, but only after reading the letters to the editor in the September 2026 issue was I moved to write my first letter since graduation.
As background, I was one of the fortunate beneficiaries of the “legacy” period, being the son of a 1927 graduate. Even with that advantage, I may not have been admitted on a full Naval Scholarship had it not been that the NROTC Commander remembered a date with my mother many years in the past when she was a young girl. It was also my good fortune to have graduated from a private boys’ prep school in Virginia, which introduced me to the most successful honor program I have ever heard of, run solely by the students. When you started, you were told that there were three unforgivable sins that would result in your expulsion: cheating, lying, and stealing. Also, it was drilled into us that the only way this system worked was if each student reported any violation observed.
Some years ago, my granddaughter served on her high school’s honor council, which judged violations of that school’s honor code and meted out appropriate sentences. I asked her, “Would you report another student if you saw them cheating on an exam?” She replied, “Oh no, I would never snitch!” I knew from that answer that their honor system was missing the key factor it needed.
When I began at Princeton and went to freshman orientation and introduction, the professor welcoming our class said, “Look at the guy on your right and the one on your left. Only two of you will still be here in four years.” I thought he meant because of the honor system, but on reflection I am sure he was including the challenging educational rigor that many students could not meet. So, I spent my years benefitting from the honor system in place, including the ability to take an exam any place on campus. The pledge we signed was all that was asked for.
My understanding of an honor system is supported by the majority of the letters in the September issue. A working honor system should teach all to do what’s right even when no one else is looking. To be known first for one’s unfailing integrity before any other accomplishment is the most important lesson one can learn in life.
At the 25th reunion of my high school class, one classmate got up and spoke. He said that he was observed cheating on a final exam in his senior year, was brought before the Prefect Board, admitted his offense, and was asked to leave campus immediately, never getting his diploma. He also said it was the most important lesson in his life and made him a loyal alumnus.
I am thankful that Princeton alumni far younger than I show by their letters their commitment to personal integrity.
When I first read about Princeton’s decision to reinstitute proctors to monitor students’ honesty while taking exams, I was disappointed that it was necessary, but only after reading the letters to the editor in the September 2026 issue was I moved to write my first letter since graduation.
As background, I was one of the fortunate beneficiaries of the “legacy” period, being the son of a 1927 graduate. Even with that advantage, I may not have been admitted on a full Naval Scholarship had it not been that the NROTC Commander remembered a date with my mother many years in the past when she was a young girl.
It was also my good fortune to have graduated from a private boys’ prep school in Virginia, which introduced me to the most successful honor program I have ever heard of, run solely by the students. When you started, you were told that there were three unforgivable sins that would result in your expulsion: cheating, lying, and stealing. Also, it was drilled into us that the only way this system worked was if each student reported any violation observed.
Some years ago, my granddaughter served on her high school’s honor council, which judged violations of that school’s honor code and meted out appropriate sentences. I asked her, “Would you report another student if you saw them cheating on an exam?” She replied, “Oh no, I would never snitch!” I knew from that answer that their honor system was missing the key factor it needed.
When I began at Princeton and went to freshman orientation and introduction, the professor welcoming our class said, “Look at the guy on your right and the one on your left. Only two of you will still be here in four years.” I thought he meant because of the honor system, but on reflection I am sure he was including the challenging educational rigor that many students could not meet. So, I spent my years benefitting from the honor system in place, including the ability to take an exam any place on campus. The pledge we signed was all that was asked for.
My understanding of an honor system is supported by the majority of the letters in the September issue. A working honor system should teach all to do what’s right even when no one else is looking. To be known first for one’s unfailing integrity before any other accomplishment is the most important lesson one can learn in life.
At the 25th reunion of my high school class, one classmate got up and spoke. He said that he was observed cheating on a final exam in his senior year, was brought before the Prefect Board, admitted his offense, and was asked to leave campus immediately, never getting his diploma. He also said it was the most important lesson in his life and made him a loyal alumnus.
I am thankful that Princeton alumni far younger than I show by their letters their commitment to personal integrity.