It is not at all an unfortunate time to be a left-wing rabble-rouser at St Edmund Hall. Haunted by the ‘Ghost of Scandals past’, students at Teddy Hall over the last few years have embarked on a long march to liberate the college from its old association with lad culture.

This is a project that is somewhat half-complete. Teddy Hall, with its Men’s Officers, is not yet the envy of Wadham but nor is it deserving of the image of a boozy men’s rugby club with an academic college attached.

The transformation of the Hall has been radical enough that we were among the first colleges to boycott The Sun, a nominally ‘progressive’ step if highly problematic in its attitudes to women who work in pornography. We banned ‘Blurred Lines’ because of its role in perpetuating rape culture, we voted to divest from fossil fuels, and even voted to support a boycott of Israel in 2013 – the only JCR (I believe) to have done so.

But this obsession with cultivating an image of being ‘progressive’ has its own problems. This is in no way unique to Teddy Hall, but it bubbled over at the college last week when the JCR sadly voted to scrap one of its honorary members: the highly successful porn actor, Jenna Jameson. In a brilliant piece for Cherwell, JCR member Susanna O’Brien explained, “Sex workers are among the most stigmatised women in our society, and Teddy Hall missed an important opportunity to stand in solidarity with them.”

By wrongly focusing on how a college would be perceived, rather than the real function of our university in society, Oxford students once again put their foot in it – and the furore was reported everywhere from Cuntry Living to The Times of India.

This is the unchallenged tenet at the core of Oxford politics: that the utmost political priority is to sanitise our image for the sake of ‘access’. It was this thinking that last year led reactionary students to criticise the calling out of racism by “I, too, am Oxford”, as ‘bad for access’, wrongly believing ‘access’ to trump oppression.

In trying to combat a stereotype which is fundamentally true – Oxford is full of white male privilege – students can inadvertently ignore the role of that privilege. Perhaps Oxford politics should give up the unwinnable fight of polishing a privileged turd, and focus instead on dismantling those privileges instead.

For

Alistair Sterling

Crew dates aren’t just outdated, they are damaging. Have misogynistic, binge-drinking, stereotype-reinforcing, lad-culture inducing affairs ever been acceptable? I’m generalising of course; not all crew dates are like that, but the concept does have significant issues that need to be identified and addressed.

The typical crew date, like the meal to be consumed, follows a set menu. Two teams of opposite genders arrive at the restaurant, sitting alternately. The more attractive members sit towards the middle of the table, and those ‘less blessed’ are resigned to the ends, where they can mull over the tribulations of aesthetic objectification.

Then the ringmaster introduces the show, welcoming everybody to this spectacle that is, of course, sure to be full of wonder and merriment. The pre-purchased bottles of Tesco Vintage are uncorked (or more likely unscrewed) and the drinking begins. ‘Pennying’ and ‘sconcing’ follow swiftly, each accusation sculpted carefully and precisely for the unwitting crew dater who thought their vibrant sexual encounter had gone unnoticed or that their disturbing foray with a tutor had long been forgotten. Unfortunately, it had not.

As the evening progresses, voices are raised to levels unmatched by the waiting staff in their feeble attempts to communicate that the gruel is going to be late, leaving confusion for both parties. At this stage, however, nobody really cares what’s going on, because it will inevitably taste similar when it comes back up on the walk to Park End. Everyone is now significantly more left-wing, except that one guy sat in the corner, wondering why he bothered coming in the first place.

This behaviour is reminiscent of a teenager’s 16th birthday party – a rowdy, disrespectful group of drunks, with no care for those they may be affecting. If such exploits occurred in an isolated environment, I would have much less of a problem. The crew date is not an inherently troubling concept, but the manner in which they are currently conducted is frankly disgusting. The heteronormativity, the archaic ‘faux-Buller’ behaviour, the pressure on members to get utterly buttered (despite the fact that 21 per cent of adults in the UK are teetotal), are indicative of an institution that still clings feebly onto the notions of yesteryear. In a progressive, inclusive, cultured, and educated environment of which we have the privilege to be part of, why do we still allow such things to go on?

The crew date, steeped in a history of mythical proportions, is an institution so dressed in tradition that we wilfully overlook the damage it causes. Those crew daters with influence over those less experienced abuse their standing t o make others’ evenings a misery. All of this happens under the guise that it’s ‘just a bit of banter mate, if you can’t take the heat get out of the kitchen’. The waiting staff are poorly treated, and women are often objectified, both by sconces and by actions during and after the affair. Too many times I, or my friends, have sat and watched as a burly crew dater stands, taps his glass and announces that the person to his right slept with umpteen ‘birds’ during a ‘night on the pull.’

Crewdates needn’t be like this. A lively meal with a few drinks and lots of people is no bad thing. But currently crew dates perpetuate a culture that jars with the progressive nature of Oxford today. Outdated? Yes, but they are also symptomatic of a student culture which needs to do a lot more introspection 

Against

Harry Gosling

As a fresher who has only recently been initiated into the Oxford tradition of crew dating, I do admittedly have a relatively limited pool of experience from which I am able to draw.

Yet even from a relatively narrow point of view, I can see there is little about crew dates that is inherently wrong or outdated.

The principal purpose of crew dates, it appears to me, is to have fun. They are an opportunity for students to draw breath as they lurch from one essay crisis to another. I think that the chance to meet new groups of people over dinner should be embraced, not rejected on account of the actions of the few rather than those of the many.

The tradition of pennying for example, while arguably serving to perpetuate the existing culture of drinking to excess, is hardly confined to crew dates alone. Sconcing too, despite the inevitable embarrassment caused, is quite simply just part of the fun. Even the horrifyingly over-priced food offered by some of Oxford’s less refined dining establishments can, in spite of first appearances, turn out to be edible once copious volumes of cheap alcohol have been consumed.

Aside from the enjoyment dimension, crew dates serve another important purpose in enabling students to meet other groups of students from outside their usual sphere of interaction. It is particularly the case with arts students that socialising happens predominantly between members of the same college. Societies are a good opportunity to meet fellow students, but crew dates are an almost unique opportunity for members of student societies and sports teams to meet like-minded people.

Of course one of the criticisms levied against the crew dating culture in Oxford is that it perpetuates and further embeds the unsavoury aspects of ‘lad culture’ and predatory sexual behaviour. There are numerous unfortunate examples of crew date members embarrassing themselves by expounding crude stereotypes. The by now infamous email sent by the social secretary of Pembroke College Rugby Football Club to its members during Michaelmas 2013 instructed recipients of the email to “pick” a fresher to accompany them on the crew date.

This type of behaviour is quite rightly condemned. Fortunately, however, this sort of attitude is fairly rare. You only have to look at the growing popularity of crew dating, exemplified by the multiplicity of crew dating websites now available, to see that they are regarded as a predominantly harmless and enjoyable experience, not an outdated one. Students can choose whether or not to attend crewdates; the fact that so many do choose to attend is indicative of their positive reputation.

It is undoubtedly true that a small minority of participants may treat crew dates as something of an ‘opportunity’. Perhaps I am naive, but this supposed crew dating culture does not appear to be particularly pervasive. The real problem is ‘lad culture’ and sexual opportunism, and these are not confined to crew dating alone. Would we argue that clubbing is outdated just because some individuals indulge in unsavoury behaviour?

It is not the crew dating culture in Oxford that needs to be challenged; it is the broader culture of ‘lad banter’ and sexual opportunism that deserves our attention. The attitude of some individuals towards crew dates may be outmoded, but the crew date itself should certainly not be considered an outdated institution.

For all the moaning and whingeing about the conduct of our Student Union recently, at least one issue has temporarily been put to rest: we now know that OUSU does actually do things. Far from the rallying cry from two years ago of “OUSU needs to do more”, the criticism now appears to be that OUSU considers its remit too broad, or runs too swiftly into issues more complex than it realises. Contrasting starkly with our own President’s admission in his letter over a year ago that “OUSU doesn’t do new or interesting things”, it seems to be those exact properties that have marked the Marine Le Pen protest for students’ ire.

If you’re worried about another tedious defence of the decision itself, or a thunderous condemnation of the purported arrogance of those who saw fit to vote in favour, then fear not. I have no interest in wading into that minefield, and I’m sure that those with far more nuanced arguments on both sides will be more than willing to fight for their respective causes.

However, what cannot be ignored is the hypocrisy of those with the depth of feeling to hold lengthy and public strops decrying the decision to endorse the protest, yet who failed to perform the unbelievably simple task of reading the agenda of OUSU Council and sending a short email to any of their college representatives to ask them to vote against the motion when it was brought to Council weeks ago.

Oxford students are world-renowned for their ability to read monstrous amounts of text in an embarrassingly small space of time, and yet it is certain that nearly all of the signatories of last week’s open letter failed to find five minutes in their no doubt incredibly busy days to skim through the agenda online.

Contrary to popular belief, the malaise that is currently afflicting OUSU isn’t one of over-enthusiastic student politicians, nor is it one of interest groups running rampant. The problem is apathy, and it has found its way into the life-blood of everything OUSU does.

From a referendum that was investigated because a 16 per cent turnout was “larger than expected” to the recent presidential election, which saw a decrease in the number of votes cast from previous years, the spectres of disengagement and disinterest loom large over the entire Student Union, and as heartening as it is that a decision by OUSU has inspired such attention, all this anger should not be directed at the Student Union, but ought to be rather more navel-gazing.

To put it simply: if you don’t vote, if you don’t read your OUSU Council agenda, and if you don’t email your college representatives about issues that are important to you, then you no longer have any grounds for comment on what OUSU Council does. If you refuse to engage with the system that tries to represent you but openly rail against decisions it has made, then you are no better than Russell Brand: shouting from the sidelines at those who care enough actually to get involved. While this may suit the thousands of students who are neither interested in nor care about what the Student Union does, the increasingly vocal sect who remain perfectly content in silence only until OUSU commits some deed with which they disagree have no such excuse.

To quote Theodore Roosevelt, “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena… and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place will never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

It’s true: the critic’s chair is always more comfortable and safe than actively taking part. So if you desire to criticise decisions made by Council, by all means get up from your seat and wade in. It’s not hard: a short email to any of your numerous representatives will suffice. Otherwise, sit down, and stop talking.

In the two years that I’ve spent as Admissions Officer here at Pembroke College, one of the things I am asked most often by prospective applicants is how to decide which college they should apply for, under the impression that this is an all-important decision. In reality, though, unless you are a fully conscious human being, capable of experiencing emotion and noticing your surroundings, it really won’t matter which college you end up at.

Apart from things like different state/private school composition, altered attitudes towards rustication, completely separate teaching setups, widely varying socio-political atmospheres, and divergent accommodation arrangements, you will have exactly the same student experience no matter which college. It’s all technically Oxford after all, what does it matter if the college forgot to mention their concrete jungle first-year accommodation miles down Cowley Road? Gazing from your window into someone’s garden shed is exactly the same as musing upon the dreaming spires and picturesque lawns of the college prospectus. In any case, being totally unaware of your surroundings due to the torpor into which you have fallen will make it even less likely that these differences will affect your time here at Oxford.

Most students base the decision on their favourite college crest, or just the one with the funniest name. I hear Oriel is full of students with an obsession for Oreos and the Little Mermaid. Got a favourite saint? Perfect. Perhaps there’s a college with the name of your place of birth? Decision made. You won’t regret it, I promise you. Of course you won’t. Regret implies consciousness, whereas you’re able only to conform, all possibility of regret taken from you by this lethargy which has dulled your senses.

Occasionally, you’ll hear people argue that location is an important consideration in terms of which college you might want to pick, but this really is overstated. The easy 25 minute walk from St Hugh’s to Exam Schools every morning will be a leisurely start to your day, and barely different to if you were at one of the colleges in the centre. And you’ll scarcely even the notice the walk – you notice little these days.

Similarly, it is sometimes said that you should take financial matters into consideration when deciding on a college, but although St John’s gives each of its students £300 to spend on books and laptops whilst Pembroke forces its students to pay for formals they might not even be able to attend, financial issues should not be a problem for a student at any college. And in what way would they be a problem? Why would those figures in your bank account even matter? What would even constitute a problem for you, now that you are devoid of the ability to feel pain? Nothing matters anymore.

Activism has become a dirty word. With climate action conjuring up images of not-so-peaceful protests and radical stunts such as Greenpeace’s take-over of the rig in the Arctic, it’s no wonder most hesitate from taking action. But it doesn’t have to be like this. The Oxford Climate Society was founded as an inclusive movement which believes in using our creativity to move climate change up the political agenda.

2015 is a pivotal year for climate action, with the General Election, and COP21 UN negotiations in Paris at the end of the year.

One of the pillars of the Oxford Climate Society is action. The actions we take are all about acting local, thinking global — actions you take in your city have the potential to reverberate globally to mobilize politicians to act decisively on climate change.

We are currently focused on the upcoming national #TimeToAct2015 climate march in London on March 7th. It is independently organised but our aim is to maximise Oxford’s presence. Often people are held back by not having anyone to go with or are intimidated by not knowing what it’s all about. This is why we’re providing Oxford students and residents with the opportunity to meet, make banners together, and feel a sense of community with those planning to go. All of this will be happening in the afternoon and evening of March 6th, right before the march the next day (like us on Facebook to keep up to date).

Alternatively, if you feel more connected with the cycling community or think fracking is the number one problem, there will be a multitude of ‘blocs’ marching on the day representing climate causes they connect with most (see timetoact2015.org).

We will also be doing some publicity stunts and mass flyering on February 28th — if you’re keen, meet us at Carfax Tower at 10am.

The action doesn’t just end there. We want people writing to members of government — we can provide template letters. Two debates are also planned for Trinity and Michaelmas involving politicians, leading scientists, thinkers to get people talking. In the lead up to COP21, we will be gathering all our energy to raise awareness and join others in urging leaders to agree on a progressive climate treaty (we are even looking for a separate Campaigns Officer to lead us in this).

Find out more and how to be a part of the movement by visiting us at oxfordclimatesociety.com.