Farms Golf Club in California has revoked Phil Mickelson’s membership over allegations of inappropriate contact with a female employee. The decision is being treated as though the club had just discovered a Ponzi scheme in the pro shop, not a personnel matter that most organizations handle with HR conversations and documented procedures.
This is what elite golf clubs do now: they operate like high schools where the principal makes membership decisions based on hallway gossip and anonymous tips. No trial. No cross-examination. Just a letter, a revocation, and the implication that Mickelson is somehow unfit to walk the fairways alongside other members whose own histories have never been subjected to quite the same scrutiny.
The absurdity compounds when you consider that Farms Golf Club has just handed Mickelson exactly what he needs—a grievance narrative. He becomes the wronged party. The club becomes the institution that acts on allegations rather than evidence. This is not justice; it is performative accountability dressed in a golf visor.
What makes this truly ridiculous is the speed. Allegations surface, and within what appears to be days, a centuries-old institution nukes a membership. You can appeal a mortgage denial with more due process. The club gets to look tough. Mickelson gets to look persecuted. Everyone involved looks foolish.
Golf’s elite clubs once stood for tradition and discretion. Now they stand for panic and public relations. The fairways have never been more theatrical.