The low handicapper in the group should quickly evaluate what the abilities of the other players are and suggest a set of tees that will be a happy medium. Golf is about fellowship as much as striking a ball and having everyone from different tees is awkward unless with strangers.
If the turn points in the doglegs are 200 yards on some of the holes, then maybe everyone needs to move back a bit, but this idiotic machisimo I too often observe is completely out of line. What makes it worse is that more than half the time, the long hitter determined to drag everyone to the tips swings out of his shoes and couldn't keep the ball between the gutters if he had a gun to his head.
So he shoots an 84 with 6 penalty strokes - one for each beer from the cooler in his cart.
What fun is it to shame a 16 handicapper into playing the back tees and watching him struggle all day hitting 3-wood into the par-4 holes?
That strikes me not only as stupid, but self-centered. It always ends with an exhausted and frustrated golfer who may not admit it, but deep down he is resentful that the whole day was wasted in a death struggle where he had no chance.
Plus, it takes forever to play because the weaker player is behind the 8-ball before he even starts.
The difference between me hitting a 7-iron or 5-iron into a hole is negligible, so I am happy to play whatever tees will ensure everyone has a good time. That is what golf is all about.
This is especially true when I have guests out at Olympic. If they want to play the tips on the Lake, I invariably tell them I play from the #2 set and if I know they are not a single digit, I just march right up to the #3 markers and hit it. That way there is no discussion.
The lone exception happened a few months back when my dad had a guest out (the surgeon who operated on him) and his son who was an enormously long hitter who had recently played in the U.S. Am.
My dad and his very cocky father played the regular tees and this guy nudged me into playing the tippity tips. Plus, it was a bit damp. They wanted a Father/Son Team bet.
I was hitting fairway wood into the greens vs. his mid-irons, but with 26 putts, I managed to play him to a draw. Where I ought to have been enormously pleased with myself, I was so exhausted from having the cream every tee shot that I collapsed in a chair in the grillroom and drank tequila until my back stopped throbbing.
He was a nice kid, but I got a good dose of what it is like to be on the other end of the spectrum and truth be told, was a bit miffed that I had been shamed by this guy's father into beating my brains in for 18 holes.
Bob is right, if you cannot regularly shoot par from the regular tees, don't bother with the back markers. The object is to have fun, not try to prove that your golfing penis is longer than the guy you're playing with.