Suppose a student—we’ll call him Paul—has a fondness for Starburst wrappers. Paul needs to boost the leadership section of his college application ever so slightly. With these two facts in mind, he creates a club devoted to his favorite sweet; he becomes president, and his friends get to take over a classroom and throw candy at each other once a week. Everyone wins, right?

Well—unless you count the people who actually work hard to establish their clubs. Although silly clubs may seem cute and funny in the short run, they are an insult to legitimate clubs and a waste of the school’s resources. To avoid yet another messy Club Day, the Student Executive Council (SEC) needs to make sure that club presidents are present because of passion, not because of some vague desire to “just start something.”

The school is kind enough to provide space for students who genuinely want to find healthy outlets for their passion. Gunn isn’t obligated to provide such opportunities so liberally, and students should not make light of that freedom by creating clubs they plan on neglecting. Even pointless clubs get fundraising privileges—privileges that should be reserved for clubs that plan on spending the money wisely.

But money is not the only problem. Even if pointless clubs do not waste funds, they certainly waste people’s precious time. There is no reason to pester a teacher to become an advisor for a club that will accomplish nothing, and there is definitely no reason for the SEC to review a club charter that will get about as much use as a calculator manual. Worst of all, pointless clubs inevitably disappoint students. Imagine how disheartening it is for a new student to join a club and prepare to contribute, only to find that it is little more than a hangout spot. Will that student feel inclined to join any more clubs? Not likely. These kinds of experiences don’t just make a club president or two look bad—they make all of the school clubs look bad. That’s simply unfair to clubs members who genuinely want to get more people interested in their causes.

Duplicate clubs are another big reason club day feels more like a stampede than a fair. It’s true that people who form copy clubs often have more in mind than Starburst wrappers, and their dedication and enthusiasm is great. But do we really need ten different volunteering clubs? While clubs with very specific goals are fine, if two clubs find that they simply want to help third world countries, perhaps they should consider combining. The result would likely be a club with twice the efficiency.

In the name of quality, the SEC should put more restrictions on club creation. Although it is tempting to assume that restrictions would discourage people from being active, the current lack of selectivity gives too much leeway for students to feign school participation and mess around.

Of course, club types shouldn’t be restricted—the freedom to create a club around any subject only makes Gunn that much livelier. But if someone truly feels compelled to make a Starburst wrappers club, the SEC should make sure the potential president is dedicated by holding a short interview. This solution will take time, but the interview would likely deter slackers from chartering clubs in the first place.

Variety is great, but no one wants a variety of garbage. Restrictions on clubs would help keep that variety—and make it easier to find the good stuff.

—Unsigned editorials represent the majority opinion of the staff (assenting: 25; dissenting: 9)