Yes
In a tongue-in-cheek guide for the newly-moneyed and ambitious arriviste, The Economist suggested approaching a London-based university to endow a centre or professorial chair in one’s name, as a potentially good way step up the ladder of respectability. “Oxford and Cambridge, being richer, are also choosier about whom they take their money from,” it explained sniffily. But in this age of austerity, such blithe certainties have vanished.
Oxford is yet to face as much criticism for its financial arrangements as the LSE was by the revelations that it was receiving donations from the Gaddafi regime. But that does not mean we should not be troubled. The University benefits from its charitable status, and college development offices eagerly use the language of charity in their campaigns. But it’s worth remembering that, especially in the case of big donations, association with Oxford comes with a level of prestige beyond many other charities.
The University and colleges should take into account that many donations are offered in the hope of establishing the donor as a pillar of society, and that this opportunity will often attract the unsavoury. The current controversy is over a £5 million donation to St Peter’s from two senior officers of the Perenco, which is an oil and gas company. Of course, in the perpetual moral twilight of global capitalism, it’s hard for any source of revenue to emerge spotless from full scrutiny, but some industries are just too close to flagrant exploitation for us to be comfortable with. Oil companies like Perenco fall squarely within this category. Perenco is accused of causing environmental destruction and trampling indigenous rights in South America. Despite these accusations, oil company bosses still have the opportunity to lead prosperous lives in the capitals of the West, and the ability to seek the satisfaction of being prominent citizens. What we need to question is the role of our supposedly high-minded and progressive institutions, such as Oxford, in this.
Oxford has long benefited from money of ethically dubious origin. Merton’s first endowment came in the form of capital from manors worked by serfs, and the de Balliols would today be classified as warlords. Arguably, this money has been put to good use, but nevertheless we remain the beneficiaries of systematic exploitation – just as LSE students became beneficiaries of the impoverishment and oppression of Libya. Perhaps Saif Gaddafi would not have been allowed to donate to Oxford, but not taking money from brutal dictators is the bare minimum of a principled stand.
The University should recognise that its ethical responsibilities go beyond being able to sleep soundly, because a connection with Oxford confers considerable legitimacy on anyone.
Students should absolutely take part in that discourse, as many in the St Peter’s JCR have done, because if we seriously believe this university can make the world a better place, we need to start by deciding who exactly we want in our corner.
Conor Dinan
No
Donations to colleges from ethically dubious companies, directly or indirectly, are always going to be contentious. As in the case of the recent donation to St Peter’s by two senior employees of the oil company Perenco. However, any moral intuition that might lead us to believe that the simple acceptance of a donation of £5 million from two employees of Perenco is wrong is misguided.
There is a significant difference, between taking money from an organisation itself, such as Perenco, and appeasing an organisation by becoming less vocal about its wrongdoings, or granting it special privileges to promote itself within an institution. This is where the real moral quandary lies. But this risk can be managed by making sure college practice does not become distorted as a consequence of receiving money – not by flatly refusing the money in the first place.
Of course, some will say that there is something inherently wrong with taking money, and that this in itself legitimises the donating organisation’s activities. But if the college remains just as critical about the donating organisation’s activities as before, and there is no subsequent change to any of its dealings with that company, such as promoting its graduate schemes within college, it is difficult to see where the problem lies.
There are also practical issues with making colleges selective about whom they receive donations from. For a start, how could a college objectively lay out the parameters for who it takes donations from, such that it didn’t take sides in contentious political issues? For example, does it refuse donations from Israeli companies? If so, this aligns it with Palestine, which would potentially leave Israeli students feeling ostracised. Making moral judgements like this has the potential to make colleges less inclusive places for students. Furthermore, where should the line be drawn between an ethical company and unethical one? Almost every multinational corporation has been involved in some sort of ethically questionable practise, and so drawing a line on practises, such as tax evasion or the selling of fast food, leaves the risk of not being able to accept donations from anybody.
Lastly, it could be argued that to refuse donations puts colleges in danger of being far too idealistic in the face of financial reality. The money from the Perenco employees’ donation, for example, will go towards the renovation of the quads and facilities of the college. To argue against accepting such a donation on the grounds that it means the college tacitly accepts the company’s practice is subjecting it to a moral standard that comes at the expense of real solutions to urgent problems.
Of course being morally high-minded is not a bad thing, but there are more salient and pressing issues which colleges would be better getting involved with, that do not interfere with student well-being. Refusing donations may on the surface appear a good idea, but on closer examination proves problematic.
Samuel Rutishauser-Mills
