Saturday 4th April 2026
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OxFolk Reviews: ‘Bird’s Nest’

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It isn’t often that you come across instrumental music that is so beautiful that each track feels like brushstrokes in a piece of artwork. The Fretless’ latest album, ‘Bird’s Nest’, is difficult to describe, and art is perhaps the best way to convey the sublime harmonies and melodies the band manage to draw out of their instruments. As the name suggests, the group are made up of instruments from the violin family, with Karrnel Sawitsky, Trent Freeman and Ivonne Hernandez all on both fiddle and viola, and Eric Wright on cello. Although one may initially think this limits the range of musical style and depth available, this band manage to achieve the exact opposite: conjuring up a huge range of colours and moods, this band skilled adaption of fiddle tunes and folk melodies from around the world brings this album to life. Indeed, the ease with which this band portray the emotion and complexity of their music reflects the ease with which the listener can listen to the entire album in a single sitting.

This success is only to be expected of The Fretless, who have been gathering accolades and awards since their debut release, Waterbound, in 2012. Their innovative mix of fiddle styles create a fascinating mix of rhythm, harmony and structure that is fully present in ‘Bird’s Nest’- right from the opening track, ‘Alphonzo McKenzie’s’, with a racing fiddle under-laid by smooth, rolling chords from the other instruments denotes the unique, newly forged style of the band. With each track another new interpretation and facet of the band’s skill shines through- and manages to hold the listener’s interest without it ever sounding stale and repetitive. The varying backgrounds of the group massively enhance the diverse sounds in this album (Sawitsky is steeped in the fiddle tradition of the Canadian region of Saskatchewan, whilst Freedman’s playing owes influences from both jazz and rock): for instance, the interesting time signatures and smooth, waltz-like qualities of ’38 & Gone’ contrast wonderfully with the interpretation of traditional tunes such as ‘Maybe Molly’. Each tune also has a fascinating backstory- with many tunes written by band members, they feel like intimate renditions of personal anecdotes. For example, the track ‘Ronim Road/Bella Coola’, written by Sawitsky, was inspired by a late night expedition down an eerie track on his parents’ farm in his home region of Canada, whilst ‘Hidden View’ comes from Wright’s stay in the Glacier National Park of Montana, where forest fires constantly obscured his view. These individual links somehow give each track an added depth and dimension that really help to bring the album to life, and almost giving it the feeling of a conversation between you and the music.

The bright, attractive album casing for ‘Bird’s Nest’ mirrors its music in many ways- both ask to be revisited, to be admired, but most of all to be enjoyed. Fretless describe themselves as having ‘all the energy of fiddle tunes, whilst shattering all expectations’. In doing this with their recent album, they have simultaneously lived up to their well-earned reputation- and created a truly beautiful collection of tunes at the same time.

Why it’s okay to hate freshers’ week (but it’s only okay to admit it one year later)

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Don’t get me wrong, I was excited for fresher’s week. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was excited. Like others, I’d spent the most part of the last ditch attempt to do summer reading trawling through my friends’ photos online; sizing up their new ‘pals’, laughing at the – ‘of course we were being ironic’ – fruits of club photography, and simply trying to imagine how painful, or not, it was all going to be.

So what was it like? Well, I had some of the typical experiences: drinking copious amounts; going to the saddest paint party since Tweenies ‘messy time’ got slightly risqué, and wearing a college t-shirt to feel part of something (I didn’t quite know what). I also had a taste of the Oxford fresher’s experience: copious drinking (with tutors); hiding from someone I’d met four years ago at Latin camp behind a slime cannon; and proudly wearing said college t-shirt to make sure people knew what exact organisation I was funding for my three-year library subscription. I even played chess drunk (highly don’t recommend).

But, all in all, it wasn’t actually that bad. Shun the non-believers in the power of jäger. Freshers can be fun, if you (+ scheduled inebriation) can convince yourself so. So why the hate-speech then, if even the ‘clubbing’ itself doesn’t actually have to be that painful? Well, hopefully the following innocent, sweet and perfectly harmless conversation, endemic to Michaelmas 0th week, will help explain…

‘How are you finding your first week here?’ a girl brightly asked me from across the JCR.

I’d just sat through a fire safety talk and been told I was going to endure all sorts of disasters. I didn’t want to be rude, but genuinely didn’t think I could look up without suffering from whiplash. I wasn’t just hung-over, it was day four; I was plain exhausted, had just received my first essay, and felt a little homesick. I just wanted to be left alone, by this lovely girl, to admire the hash browns on my plate – they did look a rather fetching shade of burnt orange – and evaluate my life in peace. But, I didn’t.

I looked up. ‘Really good thanks. A bit full on at times, but loads of fun’ I replied, smiling through the pain of someone playing Bopit! With all parts of my brain, all at once.

‘A bit full on’? What was I thinking? Perhaps she thinks I can’t hack this freshers week thing? Am I being boring? I sound boring. Come on, show a scrap of enthusiasm for life.

‘Yeah. Me too! Everyone’s been so welcoming, and the freshers fair today was great! I’m guessing you went out last night?’ she said, grinning, staring at my under-eye shadow.

Well, she bought the ‘fun’ (how the hell did that happen?). But she’s laughing at me, isn’t she? Oh god she is. A couple of days in and I’m already a mess. FRESHERS FAIR? I’d almost forgotten – I said I’d go with the historians I met the other day.
‘Aha yeah, it was rather a good night actually. Hence the current state of affairs…’

Good I made a joke. SHE LAUGHED! Yes – points for being (sort of) amusing. She thinks I’m funny – I’m a potential friend. Okay, I’ve got this.

‘Yeah. Other people seemed to say so too!’ she said.

Who are these people. Show them to me.

‘A bunch of us are just going for a chill walk around Oxford this afternoon, and get some stuff for the bop, if you wanted to join us?’

I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less. I needed sleep. I needed duvet. But she seemed nice.

‘Sounds great – Yeah I’d love come.’ I said, half wincing into a smile.

To say that I hated freshers because everyone seemed too ‘nice’ would not only seem unfair, but heartless. Yet, to deny the existence of a pressure to act with an ‘inflated level of agreeability’ and as if you’re having the time of your life – even if, as the above conversation shows, you aren’t – is a lie.

The context of freshers week itself creates an atmosphere of relentless optimism. It seems we are inflicted with an unnerving desire to both locate and befriend our pals for the next three or four years. Plus, Oxford plays its part by bringing added intensity to the bargain – there’s insufficient time to do everything, unless you can split yourself into seven pieces.

So, whilst we perhaps may have thought freshers was all a bit stressful and shit, most of us didn’t dare show it. The idea of expressing dissent, and saying what you we felt, crafted a chasm of loneliness and isolation. Fresher’s week had one unwritten rule: don’t contradict fresher’s week. This really wasn’t my vibe; an ambiance of enforced goodwill and cooperation meant that I felt as furthest from myself than I had for quite a while.

Plus, as a sufferer of scepticism and overthinking things, conversations sometimes felt rather constructed; it was rather hard to tell whether people were genuinely interested in what you were saying, or just being polite. We all were all houses and trying to sell ourselves to one another or something. And for people who are awful at self-promo, but still stupid enough to worry about it, this was a problem.

Because of these reasons, it’s fair to say that you can hate freshers. But, you can also like it too; it’s your choice. Writing this article has made me realise – apart from how I’m still an angst ridden teenager – that despite what you think at the time, Freshers really doesn’t matter. It’s the weeks after, where you make your real friends and just relax, that actually do. I took freshers far too seriously, and as much as I hated the advertise-yourself atmosphere, I shouldn’t have felt so trapped and unable to step out of it. It doesn’t stick around for that long anyway; prolonging your bitterness only means that you’ll end up writing an article in the Cherwell all about it under the pretense of ‘journalism’.

OxFolk Reviews: ‘Old Adam’

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“How do stories make us who we are?” This is the surprisingly philosophical question posed to us by Fa Hield in the introduction to her latest release, ‘Old Adam’, and it’s a question she explores and attempts to answer in the following tracks. From the idyllic, biblical purity of the track ‘Old Adam’ to the desperate, hopeless love of ‘Willow Glen’ and onwards to the crooked darkness portrayed in ‘The Hag in the Beck’, this absorbing collection of traditional folk songs truly does seem to span much of our emotional lives- you could almost say there’s something for everyone. But it isn’t just the content of the lyrics that give the listener pause for thought with this album- it’s Fay Hield’s haunting, addictive voice, mixed with the fantastic accompaniment of her band, the Hurricane Party, that brings you back for more each time a track ends.

The feeling of accomplishment and professionalism that emanates from this album even at first listening has come to be expected of Fay Hield- her distinctive voice has brought her to bands such as The Full English (a large, ground-breaking folk collective) and to a nomination at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards. But Hield’s fascination with the folk music tradition doesn’t end at simply singing- she has gone on to enter academia, lecturing in Music at the University of Sheffield and examining the role of folk music in constructing communities. With such a deep and nuanced understanding of this music and its place in our society, it comes as little surprise that ‘Old Adam’ is carefully and lovingly crafted; each tune tells a different story and makes the listening of the album into an intimate, cosy storytelling session. In the first track, the traditional tune ‘Green Gravel’, a creepy, threatening tale of murder is wound around a simply terrific bass solo line by Ben Nicholls that immediately pulls the listener headfirst into the album. This dark tune is then instantly offset by a jolly interpretation of ‘Raggle Taggle Gypsy’ (though, of course, this story also ends darkly) – this album really does not allow the listener to be lulled into complacency, with surprises seemingly hidden around every corner.

With a fantastic line up in the Hurricane Party, ‘Old Adam’ is not notable solely for its singer and choice of tunes. With figures like Sam Sweeney & Jon Boden on fiddles and Martin Simpson on guitar, this album really is a joy to listen to- the songs are frequently interspersed with instrumentals and solos that demonstrate the band’s frankly astonishing skill. ‘Old Adam’ really is a superb album- even if it does attempt to answer some overly ambitious questions…

Fay Hield and The Hurricane Party are playing at The Quaker Meeting House, Oxford on Friday 14 October, 8pm. Tickets £14/£10 conc., Tel. 01865 484777

Wednesday Weltanschauung: Libertarian Paternalism

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There is something rather interesting about the urinals in Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport, something which has helped to reduce spillage in the men’s bathrooms by 80% and resulted in a saving of 8% in the total budget for cleaning the toilets. Look into any of the urinals and you will be greeted by an etched image of a fly. This remarkably simple and inexpensive porcelain creature has had a significant impact on cleanliness in the toilets, simply by giving its users something to aim for. Whilst this may not be the most sophisticated or earth-shattering idea, it perfectly represents the aims of libertarian paternalism, which looks to shift the way our choices are presented to us whilst still maintaining our freedom to choose.

The sheer concept of libertarian paternalism may seem a contradiction in terms, as surely libertarians cannot possibly embrace paternalism, yet the ideology has gained significant traction and support in recent years, with Cameron setting up the Behavioural Insights Team, or Nudge Unit, under the Coalition as the world’s first government institution dedicated to the application of behavioural sciences in public policy. There is certainly nothing contradictory about the notion of public or private institutions affecting behaviour whilst still respecting freedom of choice, and since its foundation in 2010 the BIT has since expanded its operations to the United States and Australia.

The Nudge Unit’s concerns and projects are far more wide-ranging than simply flies in urinals however, with significant strides being made in health, taxation and environmental policy, to name but a few. The department has helped to sign up an extra 100,000 organ donors a year, persuaded 20% more people to consider switching energy provider, and doubled the number of army applicants. One project nudged forward the payment of £30 million a year in income tax by simply introducing new reminder letters that informed recipients that most of their neighbours had already paid.

This is not to say that the practice of nudging is met without scepticism, given that it works by influencing the public without their knowledge, and since the Nudge Unit has been part-privatised it is not subject to the Freedom of Information Act. However, such concerns are largely unfounded, and represent a clear misunderstanding of the practice, focusing too exclusively on the notion of ‘paternalism’ and ignoring the libertarian nature of the Department. Whilst the practices are paternalist in that they try to influence choices in a way that will make choosers better off, as judged by the behavioural economists, they are libertarian in that they neither force nor prohibit any actions. Libertarian paternalism is a relatively weak and non-instrusive type of paternalism, because choices are not blocked or fenced off, and at worst the approach imposes trivial costs on those who seek to depart from the preferred option of the choice architect. Behavioural economics works by adjusting the choice architecture of the world around us, but given that no combination of choices is objectively neutral, there is no harm in presenting choices to promote our more productive tendencies.

The origins of the term ‘libertarian paternalism’ comes from Thaler and Sunstein, who in outlining their ‘nudging’ approach aimed to ensure that “people should be free to opt out of specific arrangements if they choose to do so.” Equipped with an understanding of our bounded rationality and bounded self-control, Thaler and Sunstein suggest that libertarian paternalists attempt to steer people’s choices in welfare-promoting directions without eliminating freedom of choice. For example, setting the default to promote beneficial behaviour is a clear soft paternalist policy, and countries that have an ‘opt-out’ system for voluntary organ donation experience dramatically higher levels of organ donation consent than countries with an opt-in system. Austria, with an opt-out system, has a consent rate of 99.98% among its citizens, whilst Germany, despite being culturally and economically similar, but with an opt-in system, has a consent rate of only 12%.

To put the fruit at eye-level and junk foods out of reach is not to prevent us from making the choice we wish to, but it is to ultimately accept the emotional and irrational behaviours which are intrinsic to human nature and have been ignored by classical economics for far too long. Whilst none would be so bold as to suggest that Homo Economicus provides a flawless account of human nature, we accept that the assumptions made are sufficiently accurate as to justify such simplifications, particularly if the only another option is to throw our arms up in the air and forget any form of economic modelling because it will never reflect human nature.

But irrationality is not the end of the story when it comes to behavioural economics, and the reason that libertarian paternalism has the potential to be so effective is because we are irrational in ultimately predictable ways. We may act against our own best interests, but it is a flaw to which we are all subject, and it is in accepting and exploiting these irrational behavioural patterns that we can all make better choices, whilst still maintaining that ultimate freedom that we must all be granted: to think and choose for ourselves.

Not Wong: Trigger Warnings

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There’s a tempting tendency amongst commentators to frame the issue about trigger warnings (TWs) as concerning exposure and the purpose of universities as “places where there can be open debate which is challenged and [in which] people can get involved.” (Theresa May, September 2016), but this framing possesses multiple serious problems. .

A clarification is needed beforehand. Defendants of TWs only need to show that under some circumstances, TWs are appropriate; they need not defend all forms of existing application; nor endorse excessive application, for instance labeling every component of academic content potentially “triggering” – indeed the vastly lowered credibility of warnings in such a situation would be obviously counterproductive. TWs should be, and are currently applied as, precursory notices for individuals who find particular content deeply psychologically traumatising (triggering) to enable them to opt out of these uncomfortable moments.

The first direct response to the Alternative View Exposure Argument is to point out that the subset of cases where exposure is “stifled” due to TWs is highly limited. Note, TWs rarely cause students who disagree about the topic being raised to leave the discussion – individuals who refuse to engage with opposite views would refuse to engage anyway; individuals who prefer to engage with different views would have no issue continuing to engage with flagged topics of controversy. More importantly, TWs are applied in cases where injurious emotional harm is likely to be caused – 99% (figuratively) of academic discussions (including ones where uncomfortable cognitive dissonance takes place) in the Status Quo are unaffected by TWs.

To that effect, let’s engage with the remaining 1% of absent exposure. This 1% requires weighing against the alternative exposure that TWs encourage.

Firstly, beneficiaries of TWs are more likely to be willing to engage in discussion for three reasons:
i) Psychological State – distressed individuals shocked by the resurgence of painful personal memories are unlikely to be able to participate in discussions; effective exposure is optimised when students are not literally too shocked to speak or listen.
ii) General Willingness –without TWs risk-averse students are more likely to opt out of most (if not all) campus discussions altogether, leaving far less exposure on the aggregate; TWs – and the sense of control and autonomy they institutionalise – encourage students to expose themselves to the “controversial views” that advocates against TWs celebrate so enthusiastically.
iii) Affective Heuristic – individuals imagine and perceive arguments through the dominant psychological schema (the “affect”) impacting them at the time of reception; the  experience of reliving traumatic memories in an episode of triggering makes individuals far less receptive to the “new opinions and challenging concepts” that TW-critics mention; TWs ensure that their beneficiaries can engage in discussions in comparatively more composed  mental states.

Secondly, the existence of TWs encourages their beneficiaries to speak up more frequently:

  1. i) Internal Buy-In –without any TWs, students who have particularly traumatising triggers would be hesitant to discuss topics that could be potentially sensitive and possibly triggering (given their inability to opt-out); TWs allow students to speak in a controlled and safe fashion on sensitive topics such as sexual assault, racial discrimination, and war;
  2. ii) External Buy-In – for students who are deeply affected by particular triggers, the existence of TWs may determine their choice of a particular (or any) university in the first place. Students who drop out or decline to attend universities due to deficient welfare systems are more likely to be marginalised and excluded from ideas if TWs are absent.

The above mechanisms bring about exposure to alternative views that is quantitatively and qualitatively superior to that (realistically small amount) which trigger warnings are alleged to “stifle”.  Beyond this, TWs facilitate a virtuous cycle of inclusion within campus discussion, which extends beyond the individuals directly affected, and draws in a greater plurality of voices to campus debates.

The strongest case against trigger warnings, in my opinion, is the soft paternalistic argument that individuals have second-order preferences to become “healed” through the “shock doctrine” of exposure to triggering material, and that their first-order preferences of opting out of discussions would elude their “genuine interests”. Two responses:

First, there seems to be more than one way to treat and “heal” an individual through exposure. Exposure does not have to be painful, deeply traumatising, and fundamentally unfriendly. It equally does not require unnecessary and simplistic characterisations of the lived experiences of those who face being triggered.

Second, the non-moral premise is worth challenging here: there are several reasons why the absence of TWs makes therapy significantly more difficult. TWs allow individuals to opt in and out of discussions, gradually increasing the levels of psychological tolerance; the absence of TWs means that shocks come through in an emotionally overwhelming manner unconducive towards therapy. A vaccine injects a controlled, weakened dosage of a microbe; it does not inject an overwhelming dosage of the most lethal strain.  Discussions without TWs may also include ones that are deeply antagonistic and unhelpful towards participants’ welfare (e.g. victim-blaming narratives in discussions concerning sexual assault); TWs allow beneficiaries to opt out of discussions that would potentially jeopardise recovery. Finally, without TWs, victims of past abuses are locked in a power asymmetry that deprives them of the ability to opt out of abusive discussions and dialogue; TWs allow victims to control their therapeutic progress and determine when and how they could best confront the demons from their past.

Simplistic and grossly mischaracterised discussions about trigger warnings are unhelpful and counterproductive. There may be strong reasons against trigger warnings, but holding that exposure is the silver bullet argument is fundamentally misguided.

 

Merton declares war on Corpus

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In a move viewed as an escalation of college rivalries on Merton Street, Merton College has declared war on Corpus Christi. A Merton JCR motion, which passed on Sunday night, sees the historic antagonism between the colleges reach an even higher degree of animosity.

The declaration comes after Oriel College’s resolution to refer to Corpus as ‘0th quad’ in all correspondence, passed days earlier at a JCR meeting and perceived to be a joke about Corpus’ famously small college.

The coincidental timing has left many confused as to the alliances and divisions on Merton Street, with one Corpus second-year telling Cherwell that despite its motion, Oriel had “informally expressed solidarity” with Corpus’ JCR.

Redha Rubaie, who was invited by Oriel to attend a JCR meeting as a representative of the newly-renamed ‘0th quad’, said, “they [Merton] want to steal our tortoise and everything. Monsters.”

Corpus Arts Facebook page has responded to the escalation with a call for meme submissions to fight Merton. “Merton JCR may have declared war on us, but do they have our creative talent?” the post read.

“Obviously not, given that for Mertonians, ‘creative’ is choosing a new place to sit in the library.”

No official response from the Corpus JCR has been released as of yet, but the college is expected to elect a war rep within days.

Interview: Nish Kumar – “A snapshot of what I’m interested in”

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Over the past three years, comedian Nish Kumar has had quite the change of scene. Despite performing at the Edinburgh Fringe festival since he was a student, it was only recently that Nish gave up temping in offices to pursue comedy full-time. The motivation? “A burning desire to not have a real job.” Now, he is a regular face on nation comedy TV shows and about to embark on his fifth solo tour. Nish attributes his success to persistent flyering and the support of his fellow Fringe performers.

As a member of the Durham Revue, Nish’s comedy career started early and blossomed thanks to the support network this group provided him. “One of the advantages of starting at university and joining a group like that is that you really rely on the emotional support of your friends and your friendship group. We were really lucky we got along well with our counterparts in Oxford and Cambridge so we were able to form a little gang and provide moral support for each other because it is a really intense and quite gruelling month.” Nish is quite the veteran of the Fringe by now and tells me how to get noticed. “You’ve got to be prepared to start flyering. That was how [I] sold tickets in 2006 to 2009; just from getting out on the streets and handing out flyers and that still does work. That is still the most effective way of shifting tickets in Edinburgh because the fringe is unique in that there are people just walking around who are looking for shows to see and looking for someone to sell their show to them.”

Nowadays, after becoming a full time comedian in 2013, Nish is well-known enough not to have to trudge the Royal Mile for hours on end, waving flyers in the faces of strangers but his gratitude to the festival is clear. “I wouldn’t have a career without the Fringe, just in terms of what it’s done for me professionally but also in terms of improving me as a performer.” More recently, his prestigious nominations prove how far he has come. He tells me how “satisfying” it is to have begun as one comedian flyering amongst thousands to having his face plastered on big posters around the city. “It’s very gratifying to have seen the whole process of Edinburgh from the beginning to, I don’t know what the end of it is, but to at least come to a point where I am selling tickets and not having to flyer for myself and getting good reviews and being nominated for awards.”

Nish is about to start his fifth solo tour, Actions Speak Louder Than Words. Unless you Shout the Words Real Loud. The theme of the show is overtly political, touching on topics such as gentrification and colonisation. Each show will change as the political climate evolves over the coming weeks and Nish is no stranger to political stand-up but he feels this time may be different due to the “toxic dialogue that is hanging over us as a country.” He tells me that never before has speaking about politics seemed so “loaded” and that although his audiences know his reputation, there is always a risk when performing comedy about politics. “Cut to three months later and I’ve been beaten up 15 times,” he jokes.

The difficulty of bringing together serious political issues and comedy is also at the forefront of his mind but, as a satirical comic, it is something he is used to. “You want to undermine powerful people. What you don’t want to do is find yourself undermining the vulnerable.”  This is his second overtly political show, however, so he clearly knows what he is doing. “I did half a history degree at university so I’m trying to make use of it,” he quips, but his interest in social injustice and making a difference in the real world is evident. For example, he tells me how proud he is to have contributed to Nikesh Shukla’s The Good Immigrant, a book which was crowd-funded and written to combat the “fairly mono-cultural” world of publishing.

As well as being a stand-up, Nish also hosts the radio show Newsjack for BBC Radio 4Extra. This is a refreshing take on the satirical format as all the sketches and one-liners are selected through an open-submission process. This allows for anyone to try their hand at comedy writing, but crucially, allows new writers to get a foot in the satirical door. “Having done it over two years, four series, there are people who started just submitting sketches in my first series who are now working on things like The Now Show and The News Quiz. The system works, it really great.” Each writer featured on the programme is paid and given writing credits. Nish writes a weekly monologue and introduces each sketch but it is clear that he has a genuine passion for the format. “There is no better way really to find comedy writers than just asking them to send stuff in.”

Nish is playing the Oxford Glee on 27th November. The show, which he calls, “a snapshot of what I’m interested in,” promises to be an interesting and entertaining investigation into the past and present of our society.

Red on Blue: Should we create new grammar schools?

Red: Felix Bunting

Labour’s reaction to a proposal to consider reintroducing grammar schools was a unified one. A proposed national day of action in opposition to selective education brought together party officials, elected representatives, and the party membership; there was Angela Rayner’s powerful Commons speech criticised the Conservative policy of “segregation, segregation, segregation”, echoing Blair’s famous dictum; grammars even formed a rare point of agreement between John McDonnell and Alastair Campbell on Question Time. Why is the party so opposed to selective education?

The reasons are threefold. There is the fact that instituting selective education at an eleven-plus exam means someone’s life chances rest, to a significant degree, upon a single set of test papers. This is a dangerous pressure to place on our children, who are already some of the least happy in the OECD. Looking at the testimonials of people who failed the eleven-plus, or had friendships broken up by different exam scores, is heart-breaking; for instance, the author Michael Morpurgo described it as his “first public humiliation” and the effect of it stayed with him, believing that “with every exam I took, that early diagnosis of stupidity was confirmed”. If this is the experience of someone with a successful public career, the effect of such a test upon generations of schoolchildren is tragic to consider.

Grammars also have a detrimental impact upon social mobility; according to a Sutton Trust report, those eligible for free school meals make up less than 3% of grammar school students, but 18% of the population. Comparing children in areas with the grammar school system who test highly at the end of secondary school shows similarly negative results. 32% of these children on free-school meals will go to study at grammar schools versus 60% from more well-off backgrounds. This is a combination of the effect of some being able to afford tutoring for the test, and the negative consequences of poorer socio-economic background upon educational attainment. The result is that children with household incomes in the bottom 50% in areas with the grammar school system perform worse – and only those in the top 5% do noticeably better.

Furthermore, the existence of grammar schools can damage surrounding comprehensive schools: it removes some of their higher achieving students, encourages better teachers to work at grammar schools, diverts public funding from comprehensive schools which promote social mobility, and establishes alumni associations which provide further funding.

Grammar schools are simply bad for under-privileged children – they are less likely to pass the entrance exams, regardless of their academic level at the end of primary school, and their existence damages the standard of education students receive at surrounding schools. Suggestions of an improved testing system come with little evidence of how this will be achieved, and it is hard to see how testing at multiple ages will sufficiently reduce the pressure or the effect of tutoring. Additionally, they significantly limit interaction between students with different test scores (and as such different social backgrounds). The evidence base for grammar schools is weak, and it is vital we oppose
them.

 

Blue: Redha Rubaie

A key component of ensuring a good quality of life for one’s citizens is to ensure that they have the best and most appropriate education that can be afforded to them – something that should be at the very front and centre of politics. Unfortunately, the British political class have done a great disservice to education, whether through underfunding, or through structures that simply do not reflect the make-up of those going through the education system. In an area where evidence would be of the greatest value, the issue of grammar schools has been turned into a political football to be kicked about.

Indeed, the very abolition of the grammar school is one of the great stains on Labour’s record in the 20th century. Such was the vitriol towards grammars held by Anthony Crosland (lest not we forget he was a graduate of Winchester and Trinity, Oxford) that he remarked, “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to destroy every f***ing grammar school in England. And Wales and Northern Ireland.” The intention may well have been noble, to try to provide a comprehensive education that was world-class and that all could benefit from. But, as is unfortunately too often the case with the Left, the assumption of homogeneity was one which would prove to be false. Half a century after the abolition of grammar school and working class kids are still being let down by their schools. It is high time we look at new measures that allow for a more specialised education.

The premise behind a grammar school is merely setting on a more institutional level – it ensures that the members of class are of a minimum standard. This narrowing of the ability window makes it so much easier for teachers to provide good quality education. They focus more on allowing students to reach their potential as opposed to the status quo, which increasingly just teaches you to be good enough and fails to nurture the undeniable wealth of talent that we have in the UK. The grammar school also allows a greater culture of competition and focus, which is the kind of thing that often sharpens the mind and ensures that we have a wealth of working class people making up the elites that rule Britain.

This is not to say that the grammar school will not be without its own set of problems. One of the most contentious issues is the crowding out effect, which the Left argues will damage social mobility. Unfortunately, our data sets are woefully inadequate. People often focus on Kent and Buckinghamshire, but it is in less affluent areas of Yorkshire that the grammar school becomes such a valuable asset. We need a fully diversified educational system where having a vocation is not stigmatised and people are not treated as a tick box exercise. I truly believe that grammar schools, if well thought out, have a vital role to play in a vibrant and inclusive educational system.

 

Statement Pieces: Caroline Ritchie’s Corduroy Jacket

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In its life of unknown length, my big black corduroy jacket must have had many adventures. I am not its first owner, and so I can only describe one chapter of its history. But it has been, I think, an interesting chapter.

It didn’t leap out at me at first. Mum had taken me on a random spree into one of those dust-darkened ‘vintage’ stores in Melbourne’s inner city. There were all manner of baubled, artfully frayed jackets, absolutely packed like sardines along a teetering rack. I’ve always loved random, glittery clothes, so I was a pig in mud. I must have tried on about fifteen different jackets, mostly just as a bit of fun. It was just as we were about to leave that I pulled the black corduroy jacket out from where it was buried, deep in the jackety jumble. I was struck by how unadorned and quiet it was, next to the busy buzz of kitsch applique and sequin. It seemed to me almost immediately to be the perfect jacket for the coming Melbourne winter: not too thick, not too thin, and roomy enough to accommodate any of my ungainly, baggy jumpers that mum hated so much.

Mum hated that jacket too, but she did buy it for me, in what must have been a momentary lapse of judgement, for $69. Not an altogether unreasonable price, we thought – at the time. When I got home, I eagerly threw off my nondescript puffer jacket, and enveloped myself in the roomy new jacket. It was only when I rolled down the left sleeve that I noticed a small tag, attached to the cuff, which read ‘Vinnies: $6.’ It’s common knowledge that vintage retailers scour local charity shops to find bargains, and proceed to cheekily mark their loot up for resale. But it was pretty maddening to have it shoved in our faces like that!

Still, I loved that jacket, and was wearing it almost every day on top of whatever outfit I had cobbled together (exerting great effort, of course, to appear effortless). But one day it disappeared. I retraced my steps. I had worn it out into the city that day, to see a screening of David Lynch’s ‘Blue Velvet’. It was a sort of mild day, perhaps breathing the first breath of spring. I had grown warm and must have taken the jacket off on the tram, in the cinema, or in a café, and simply walked away. It was a shame to lose something I had become so fond of. I doubted that I would be able to find a replacement.

A few weeks later, on a day out charity shopping, I came across what looked like a carbon copy of that black jacket. I was thrilled: the velveteen corduroy looked exactly the way it had on my old jacket, and it had the same worn look that I had loved so much. Perhaps I would be able to replace it after all. I hastily tried it on. Reaching my hands into the deep pockets, I heard a small papery rustle. I pulled out the piece of paper and found, to my amazement, that it was a movie ticket – a ticket, in fact, to a screening of ‘Blue Velvet.’

A night at the clubs… Sunday: Lola Lo’s

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Lola Lo’s on a Sunday is not a night out that would inspire much faith or optimism in any discerning Oxonian club-goer. However, on this occasion, it managed to at least attain a modicum of enjoyability through cleverly exploiting the ignorance of these silly Freshers. As it was the first night that most Freshers arrived, energy levels were high (fuelled by £1 Jägerbombs). I think it would be fair to say that it was a far more lively event than most buried deep in the exhaustion of mid-term blues.
The Regent’s Park and Exeter Freshers definitely seemed to be having a good time (the primary contingents of the night), and for that, Lola’s deserves some recognition. In spite of the slightly sharky atmosphere, the club maintained a friendly atmosphere; perhaps more by accident than design, but still a noteworthy occurence. However, some problems are too fundamental to ignore — Lola’s will always be the club of last resort, a fact that should be well noted by any freshers uncertain as to the nature of this low-ceilinged hell-hole. It still felt grimy, still quite empty, and still playing that most generic kind of club music which characterises the worst of Oxford nights. If this seems like hyperbole, then that’s because it probably is — in its defence, these music choices were quite harmless and mindlessly enjoyable. Considering most people were mindlessly drunk, the fact that they were enjoying themselves was, therefore, explainable in spite of the dubious surroundings. A somewhat enjoyable night.