Sometimes, it’s important to hold your hands up when you get it wrong. When OUSU passed a policy to support a free 5th Week, I opposed it, thinking it would take away from the other important challenges facing students with mental health issues in this university. I was wrong. The campaign led by WomCam this 5th Week has demonstrated that a reading week would be enormously beneficial to many students. But more importantly than that, it’s challenged some of the entrenched prejudices we hold around mental health: the way that we have normalised mental health problems so much that it’s become normal to be ‘blue’ in 5th Week, and that debilitating stress is called ‘pressure’ and ‘just part of the Oxford experience’.

In order to make this university environment one which is truly accessible and welcoming to those with mental health problems, we can’t simply change policies. Unfortunately, we must do more than just criticise the University and colleges, although there is no denying that there is plenty which we can and should criticise. We also need to challenge those underlying attitudes which are present within us: among our peers and among this student body. The WomCam campaign to #Free5thWeek has challenged some of those attitudes by making us recognise that the way we talk about work pressure at Oxford is not acceptable. We shouldn’t dismiss and trivialise the real and unacceptable effects of this university’s work structure on many of our students as ‘tradition’ and ‘why we’re such a great uni’.

There’s so much more that we need to do in this regard. And it starts with every single one of us: we need to look at our attitudes and ask ourselves if they are making students with mental health problems feel valued and welcomed, or worthless and excluded.

Just go ahead and ask yourself some questions. Have you ever challenged someone as to why they have decided to rusticate? Have you ever thought to yourself, ‘They’ve just done it because they didn’t prepare well enough for exams.’ Have you ever turned up to a tutorial, essay in hand, only to find your tute partner hasn’t completed their work for this week, and put it down to that student being lazy, or just spending too much of their time in Park End and Bridge? Have you ever seen a common room officer not fully commit to their role for a few weeks, and instead of trying to support them, decided that they simply aren’t fit for the position? If the answer to any of these questions is ‘yes’, ask yourself a few more.

What if that person who rusticated didn’t manage to prepare fully for their exams because of depression? What if that tute partner without an essay in hand didn’t complete their essay because of anxiety: and found themselves in Park End and Bridge because they were genuinely terrified of losing all their friends if they didn’t go? What if that common room officer had received some terrible news a few weeks ago, and is so keen to get back on track with their role if only someone would ask to make sure they’re doing alright?

Mental health issues can affect people in so many different ways. The ways that they can distort people’s perception of the world a round them can prevent people suffering from mentalillness from getting done what they want or need to do.

If you ever come across a friend or peer who seems to be falling behind, or being unreliable, just remember these three key things. They almost certainly aren’t being lazy. They almost certainly want, desperately, to be able to get on with what they want and need to do. And those attitudes, as discussed above, are likely to be just as big a factor in preventing them from doing so as the mental health problems which they face.

So constantly question your attitudes. Most importantly: give people the benefit of the doubt. And do whatever you can, as much as you feel able or comfortable to do (with no judgment for being unable or uncomfortable doing so), to remind people that they are welcome here, that they are wanted, and that they are of immeasurable value. And remind them in any way you can, that no matter what is holding them back: they are brilliant, and deserve to be at this university.

Yes

Sara Semic

As much as I would like to say that I geek out over my course and take great pride in my essays, starting with the outline and fi lling it in gradually like a painting with nuance and depth, the reality is that I bash it out in order to submit it by the deadline, and hope that it’s legible. As a humanities student blessed with a schedule unfettered by labs and a workload that can be crammed into one arduous weekend, perhaps I ought to check my degree privilege before waving aside the case for the importance of the Oxford degree.

However, with so much flexibility and freedom it seems a waste to spend my time chained to a desk, going through the reading with a finetooth comb when I can achieve just as much by skimming the texts. And if, according to the old maxim, ‘the vast majority of humanities students get a 2:1 anyway,’ then why would I want to look back on my nine short terms of university and remember the abyss of the Gladstone Link, or obsessing over the origins of WWI?

The real privilege of being at Oxford lies not in the unique tutorial system nor the abhorrent subfusc, but the roulette of societies and extracurricular opportunities available – from student journalism to quidditch and everything in between. At Oxford you have the privilege of being able to try out things that you’ve never done before, and most probably won’t have the chance to once you’re stuck in the rut of the nine to five. It is by joining the countless societies, or indeed starting your own project, that you can discover where your true interests lie (once you’ve realised that your heart just isn’t in Macroeconomics). Plus, to those of you complaining about catastrophic backlogs, given our obscenely long breaks in between, we have more than enough time to catch up on lost sleep and missed work and still binge on Netflix.

On a purely social level, the importance of your extracurricular ties is a no brainer. We defi ne ourselves here in relation to the diff erent Oxford ‘scenes’, distinguishing the thesps from the rowers and the union hacks, rather than the Classicists from the Theologians. On top of this, it has to be remembered that without any society allegiances you run the risk of falling off the radar and sacrifi cing any chance of a spot in Cherwell’s illustrious Top 40 list.

Jokes aside, getting involved in the wider university network allows you to escape the college bubble and meet more like-minded people, who share your interests and niche tastes. Is that not more valuable than attaining a distinction on an essay or a tute sheet?

But even for the career-minded, your extra curricular involvements are all the more vital, both for building future contacts and for standing out from the legion of other students hoping to climb the greasy pole of success in a Magic Circle firm. For the careerists, your time at Oxford is as much about rampant CV building as it is churning out essays and attending lectures. Indeed, being able to show that you can head the Guild and CapitOX whilst holding down a 2:1 is what will stand you in good stead in the overcrowded job market. Employers want to see that you can juggle multiple commitments, lead projects and solve real problems. As much as your tutor will try to impress upon you that your self-worth rests on you acquiring a First, employers will tell you it really isn’t the be-all and end-all, and can even be off -putting for those who think all Oxbridge off spring are just socially inept creatures.

Furthermore, it’s easy to become so absorbed and caught up in the ivory-tower learning of your degree that you lose a sense of perspective and forget that there is a world beyond the dreaming spires. Countless societies and organisations actively engage with political debates and try to tackle the problems that face us all. The Oxford Hub, for example, gives you the chance to make a real diff erence in the wider community, rather than just theorise about solutions in your essays or tutorials.

But does it need to be an either/or question? Surveys have shown that those who maintain an extracurricular commitment are more likely to receive a First in their examination compared with those who ‘just study’, so there’s no reason to sacrifi ce an interest for the sake of your degree either. And I doubt that I’ll look back on my reel of Oxford memories wishing I had had more sleep.

No

Josh Caminiti

I feel somewhat obliged to begin my piece with the small caveat that the irony is not lost on me, and neither, I hope, on my readers, of using an extracurricular engagement (Cherwell) to argue against the relative value of extracurriculars.

This is a helpful, crystallising irony, as it is to show that my true thesis is not to advance a scholarly hermeticism (as Chaucer’s ‘Sire Clerk of Oxenford’ does), or that extracurriculars are wasteful or useless, and should yield in favour of our academic pursuits in every instance, but rather that it would generally be better for us to excel academically than in extracurriculars. However, the essence of the old adage preserved in Brideshead Revisited that to get anything above a third, if not a first, is a waste of time, still chimes a ring of truth for many students. They feel that to be at Oxford means, firstly, to be at Oxford, and secondly (only secondly) to study here. But the 1920s, and the frolicking days of the ‘gentleman’s Third’, are long gone.

To move past a fashionable evaluative nihilism, it would be helpful to establish the grounds on which one thing can be said to be more important than another, or, value-conferring properties. An exhaustive purview of them would neither be commensurate with the allotted length of the piece at hand nor the patience of its readers, and so we will be restricted to considering two: being beneficial for our futures (loosely interpreted) and being fulfilling (socially, existentially, epistemologically etc).

Although, as an arts student, I try my hardest to avoid thinking about future employment prospects, this debate would be incomplete without considering them. When it comes to that great and beckoning hereafter, the ‘real world’, there stands the question, ‘Would I value more walking away from university with several solid extracurricular achievements and engagements under my belt, or a swanky scholar’s gown, a relative mastery of my subject-matter, and the pedigree confirmed by a well-respected degree?’ Oxford boasts that over 95 per cent of undergrads find themselves employed or engaged in further studies six months after graduation, so it seems like, whichever side you take in this debate, you will be ‘just fine’.

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If we had to venture a guess as to why Oxford students seem to do so well on the market, I am confident the answer would lie in the universally-recognised high standard of education we have received, indicating both a passably industrious work ethic and commendable learning. In the outstanding majority of cases, employers tend to strongly favour applicants with good degrees in a relevant field compared to those who have dabbled in extracurricular activities. For a minority of students, perhaps, their extracurricular activities will lead them away from the path set out from their degree: but for every rower who participates in the Olympics there are thousands more law students who become lawyers, economics students who go into finance, and medicine students who go into medicine. Our degrees have, for the most of us, already plotted the trajectory of our future lives, and to excel along this path is to excel in the future.

Il faut cultiver notre jardin – what is too often overlooked, and often can only be appreciated in retrospect, is the intense fulfilment and self-cultivation that our academic life can provide us with, in a way that equals if not outstrips the fruits of extracurriculars. Putting aside sloppy considerations of utility for a moment, the knowledge and skills that we receive as part of our degrees (provided we maintain our end of the bargain as students) are of inestimable value, and “the best provision for old age” (as an aside: spurious Aristotle quotes are the best Aristotle quotes). I genuinely enjoy my degree, or rather, the content of which it is so constituted, and for me some of the greatest opportunities offered by Oxford are to be found in a reading list, not a boat house.

A good education teaches us to delight in the education received; Hamlet to an English student, or Cicero to a classicist, or (even) the Krebs Cycle to a biochemist. To respond informatively and creatively to questions that matter to us is one of the noblest tasks we can undertake and a fundamental part of getting a degree here.

This is the only time in our lives where we will have the outrageous privilege of dedicating our days to the increase of knowledge in an ever-growing depository (or rather flame, for ‘education is not the filling of a bucket’), with access to some of the greatest educational resources in the world and under brilliant tutelage.

To see our degrees as slavish contracts we have unwittingly entered into, with extracurriculars our only hope of real fulfilment and enjoyment, is too see incorrectly. In all this discussion, I am reminded of the words of Ecclesiastes (non-inclusive, blame King James) that, “to rejoice in his labour; this is the gift of God”. Now, to avoid charges of hypocrisy, I should really get started on that essay. 

The nominations committee of the University of Oxford has proposed the counterterrorism expert Louise Richardson as the University’s next Vice-Chancellor. The OxStew understands that expertise in terrorism and security matters was a key criterion for the committee, in light of recent ‘terrorist’ acts by gangs of left wing anti-austerity students. These acts include holding protests every now and then, endless meetings, and the aggressive use of jazz hands.

Jason Akehurst, an expert in ‘terrorism’, told The OxStew, “Ever since the government started trying to pass the Counter-Terrorism and Security Act 2015, everyone has been scared shitless. Universities across the country have started seeing terrorists everywhere – so much so that they have started redefining what terrorism actually is. “The University of Oxford is perceived as being particularly at risk, due to the presence of ISIS at the University which authorities are concerned is radicalising students by spreading their dangerous hipster ideology.

“The last straw really was when students started questioning Andrew Hamilton’s salary. How students could criticise the pay gap between the highest and lowest paid at the University is beyond comprehension. Clamping down on any students who question this really ought to a priority for the next Vice-Chancellor.” The Oxstew understands that the University is also currently considering the purchase of several drones and Kevlar gowns, in order to bolster the University’s security capability. In addition, documents have been leaked to The OxStew revealing that Richardson plans to convert Exam Schools into a new secret service headquarters for the Oxford University Security Service (OUSS) if appointed, which, yes, is a real thing and, no, is not the Oxford University branch of the Waffen-SS.

Giles Ashwood, a privately educated communist and ‘student activist’, commented, “It’s no surprise that we have the University on the run, considering all the protests we’ve organised recently that are attended by the same very small group every time. If we just organise one more poorly attempted demo, the University will have no choice but to give us what we want.” “Maybe the University has concluded that we’re terrorists as a result of our excessive use of militaristic language when it comes describing things, despite us all being anti-war vegans. We’ve been talking about ‘fighting’ and ‘resistance’ against austerity for years, and yet only now is how hip and radical we are being fully recognised. In any case, there’s only one place this battle will be won and that’s the streets!”

A spokesperson for somebody commented, “I am delighted that Louise Richardson has been nominated as Vice-Chancellor and hope that she will continue this great university’s tradition of having shit library hours on weekends. Being extremely well paid is both challenging and rewarding and I wish her luck in her new role.”

On 24th April a group of Finnish producers, student volunteers and music festival organisers were holding their breath in Tokyo, Japan. They were kicking off something big. But they were not in Japan to play music. They were in Japan to transform the country’s economy.

The event was Slush Asia, the first overseas instance of a Helsinki-based start-up carnival. To get a grip of what we are talking about, think about a Glastonbury version of the Shark Tank. The event has its root in Aalto Entrepreneurship Society, a Finnish student network promoting the start-up ideology as a way to tackle the problems inherited from the corporate age. Titled by The Economist as “the most constructive student revolution in the history of the genre”, Aalto Entrepreneur Society is an interesting story in its own right. To be honest, creating one of the world’s leading venture capital events is a hell of a job for a student society. But more importantly, the story is only one act within a bigger play: a play featuring a new generation of Finns determined to shake away the dust of the past.

Despite the many similarities between Finland and the Scandinavian countries, their histories differ significantly. When Finland gained independence from Russia in 1917, it was the backyard of Europe. This didn’t change during the following decades. The Finns didn’t truly care, they were busy enough building an independent state. It was only after the collapse of the Soviet Union that Finland turned to the third chapter of the story: the lifestyle state.

The youth gathered inspiration from no-borders Europe, as their parents invented the mobile phone. A new generation was ready to kick the field. Not only were they educated by the universally praised Finnish school system, but these kids were hungry for the world. This hunger, embodied and exported by the Slush-entrepreneurs, has yielded an astonishing change in the urban landscape of Finland. The older generations were bewildered about change that took over the streets of Finnish cities in the new millennium. The void capital had turned into one praised by the Michelin Guide, full of music festivals and buzzing with energy. When the lifestyle-bible Monocle announced Helsinki as the world’s most liveable city in 2011, a lot of us gave a deep sigh. We did it.

But times were changing quickly in 2011. Europe was in crisis. An array of alarming data started piling up from Finland. While Slush was launching in Tokyo, people voted for the new parliament in Finland. The preceding debate had seen a country united by the anxiety of the economic depression, divided in the values that they wanted to salvage from it. Conservative values won. Many fear that Finland’s economic troubles will make it a new member of the European periphery. Rome without jobs is still the Eternal City. Helsinki without jobs will easily become a city long forgotten in the cold, windy north. No matter how much faith the nation places in the Slush-generation, it might be that even these young people cannot save the country from forces of greater magnitude. The entrepreneurs might disagree. They are running, and might be winning.

But they had better keep running, for the soil is fast disappearing beneath their feet.