Freshers’ week is a hectic time. Clubs, societies and disreputable drinking traditions will all be clamouring for your attention as an incoming student. Of course, it’s best not to try to navigate the situation too consciously – there’s something (usually several things) for everyone, and most people just throw themselves into things and see where they wind up. But I make one exception: there is one society that every Fresher should know a bit more about in advance.
The Oxford Union debating society (which is distinct from OUSU, the student union) works intensively every Michaelmas to sign up Freshers. Membership, once bought, is usually for life. This year, Freshers will be invited to purchase perpetual membership at £218 – a rate which is higher than when I first joined up two years ago, and which is (incredibly) a discount on the normal price. The Union is a peculiar environment – it is famous as a training ground for prospective Westminster politicians, and some members enjoy this side of things more than others. But I want to make sure no Freshers make the same mistake I made: after forking out an agonising sum of money for life membership in my first year, I found myself disgusted by the Union’s behaviour and atmosphere by the end of my second. I left, without a refund.
If every Fresher is to be able to make an informed decision, a few of the Union’s self-promoting claims must be publicly challenged. A good place to start is the Union’s insistence that it is, in the words of its website, a “democratic organisation based on merit”. It is true that the Union does have elections – but, thanks to a bizarre and draconian set of opaque regulations, meaningful democratic discussion is non-existent. Candidates cannot widely state their positions on issues, circulate political material, or even publicise the dates of elections. These ridiculous restrictions combine to ensure that open, honest politics, let alone any challenge to leadership, is all but impossible – little wonder that turnout is extremely low, and in decline.
Another of the Union’s inaccurate claims is altogether sadder – the society calls itself “definitive” to Oxford social life, when it is, in reality, of negligible significance. Its bar, for example, is, essentially, a mahogany-decked room full of people not doing much (rooms like this are not in short supply at Oxford). Moreover, the Union also portrays itself as Oxford’s one-stop shop for impressive speakers and interesting talks. But, again, this is unfounded: your new University is a hectic kaleidoscope of famous and fascinating speakers, and as a student here, you’ll always be spoiled for choice as to who to see. It is virtually certain that, at some point during your time here, you will pass up an event with a Nobel Prize-winner to instead drink cheap wine, write a panicked essay, or just mope around. Or, on occasion, all three.
Most Union members dislike the society’s leadership, but simply don’t think about that leadership very much. Union politicians are generally written off as an amusingly self-important bunch of maladjusted plotters. In my own case, however, I came to feel that that compromise was no longer viable – there are more serious issues at play here than the internecine manoeuvres of a small bunch of tiresome hacks (the Oxford term for career-focused student politicians). Despite the slim-to-invisible democratic mandates of Union leaders, the society’s influence over other spheres of Oxford life is highly significant – and, I believe, almost entirely malign.
In the first place, the Union’s institutional culture is one which leaves many individuals feeling deeply uncomfortable. It would be remiss not to say that some of these concerns came into focus at public events last year, after the organisation’s leadership was hit by a string of scandals including (but by no means limited to) allegations of sexual violence against the then-president (which have since been dropped by investigators).
Events at the Union last term highlighted, through many fatiguing incidents which cannot be sufficiently recounted here, the lack of a compassionate culture, a transparent procedure or a rigorous code of conduct for such scenarios – but they also brought into focus the nature of the society’s broader influence in the University’s public life. One possible example of this came when weekly newspaper The Oxford Student (under the direction, incidentally, of a former Union politician, who has since been removed from the editorship) printed a highly dubious article undermining the two women who had brought allegations of sexual violence. The publication of this article – which was legally questionable, ethically bankrupt, and a journalistic débâcle on every level – was one of a number of events which led me, in a roundabout way, towards eventually handing in my Union membership card. I was no longer confident that the society’s poisonous little games were only hurting insiders.
I don’t mean to spread the notion that any association with the Oxford Union is to be disdained. There are plenty of honourable reasons for signing up, and it would wrong to look down on the very large number of students who do join. But there are equally honourable reasons why some freshers might prefer to stay away, and it’s right that everyone gets to hears every side of things before joining up.
