Monday, May 19, 2025
Blog Page 124

Just Stop Oil: help or hindrance?

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The recent protest outside the Radcliffe Camera is just one in a series of demonstrations staged by Just Stop Oil to draw attention to increasing global temperatures and the catastrophic effects of climate change. As well as painting the Radcliffe camera orange, previous protests have included shutting down the M25, interrupting play at Wimbledon and throwing soup at van Gogh’s Sunflowers at the National Gallery –  to name only a few. As temperatures continue to rise whereas governments continue to delay climate action, we are once again compelled to question whether Just Stop Oil’s actions are proactive, or simply disrespectful towards the general public?

It is widely agreed that the Earth is warming at an unprecedented rate, with global surface temperatures having increased faster since 1970 than in any other 50 year period over the last 2000 years (UN). The IPCC states that there is ‘unequivocal’ evidence that humans are the cause behind this warming and that only immediate action can secure a liveable future. The UK government, on the other hand, announced recently that it would be awarding 27 new oil and gas exploration licences in the North Sea in an attempt to ensure the UK’s energy security and reduce our need for imported energy.  Even in light of this political climate, the actions of climate activists, such as those involved in JSO, remain highly controversial amongst both Oxford University students and the wider public.

Interestingly, research shows that there is a stark contradiction between the opinion of the public and media over the use of disruptive protests and the opinion of academics. Polling by YouGov in February demonstrated that up to 78% of Britons believe that such disruptive protests hinder activists’ causes. Meanwhile, new research conducted by the Apollo surveys on behalf of the Social Change Lab showed that nearly seven out of ten academics surveyed considered these tactics to be ‘at least quite important’ to the success of a movement, ranking it as more important than media coverage or strictly avoiding violent tactics. 

One particular reason for this contrast is suggested by survey respondent Louisa Parks, associate professor of sociology at the University of Trento, Italy- who outlined how disruptive protests are prone to causing immediate public and political backlash but generally have a more positive impact in the long-term, stating that ‘broader cultural changes could be provoked despite short-term backfire effects’. This links to the idea of the so-called ‘radical flank’ effect within a social movement –  when radical tactics are seen to increase support for a moderate faction within the same movement. Indeed, it could be argued that despite the initial public outrage following the vandalisation of the Radcliffe Camera, it has sparked more widespread debate surrounding Oxford University’s own climate policies –  including its connections with recruitment into fossil fuel companies. 

This is in no way a new concept- even after the extremely controversial ‘Insulate Britain’ campaign in 2021, mentions of housing insulation in the British press more than doubled. There are now calls for a ‘wartime effort’ on insulation coming from a cross-parliamentary committee.

Despite this, much of the student body remains unconvinced following JSO’s vandalism of the Radcliffe Camera, with one student from Jesus College stating that this type of protest risks ‘turning the public against a valid cause’. Part of the issue encountered by JSO activists in gaining widespread support is that many think that their demonstrations target hardworking, innocent people. Moreover, some may argue that targeting socially and culturally significant buildings such as the Radcliffe Camera or artwork such as van Gogh’s Sunflowers could be considered deeply inappropriate and immoral.

However, whilst such acts of vandalism may seem completely outrageous and disproportionate, one must consider the cause of these protests and the extent of the climate breakdown that we may soon be facing. An important distinction to bear in mind, especially when considering the current actions of the UK government and the proposed construction of new oil fields such as Rosebank, is that the extent of the global temperature increase relies not on how fast we are able to reach net zero but upon exactly how much greenhouse gas we have emitted into the atmosphere within this timescale. The severity of the issue is best understood when one considers the analysis conducted by the Global Carbon Project, who highlight how, if we are to have even a 50% chance of limiting warming to 1.5°C, our remaining carbon budget (the amount of carbon we can release into the atmosphere) is equivalent to only 380 Gigatonnes of CO2. This may seem like a large amount, but is in fact only equivalent to nine more years of emission at 2022 levels before we have less than a 50% chance of meeting the 1.5 ° C target set by the Paris Agreement. 

These statistics are striking and provide only limited insight into the current state of the global climate system. If, as is looking increasingly likely, we overshoot this target, the situation is likely to look far worse – a warming of 4°C above pre industrial levels could result in unprecedented heat waves, severe drought, and major floods in a number of regions. This would have considerable impacts on human systems and ecosystems, and likely result in a considerable loss of life. 

Therefore, when one considers the possible devastating impacts of such extreme climate change, acts of protest such as vandalising the Radcliffe Camera suddenly seem infinitely less problematic. One might even argue that such acts of protest are not only justified, but absolutely necessary in order to reflect the current gravity of the climate emergency. Even though their tactics are often initially frowned upon by the general public, I argue that the acts of groups such as JSO seem to play a unique part in motivating governments, universities and corporations to take real climate action.

Vegan sage gnocchi

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Outside the church at the end of my street I recently spotted a small, carefully cultivated herb garden. Upon further inspection of this aromatic Cowley beacon, I found in and amongst the indestructible rosemary and rather sad looking mint, the tell-tale light green leaves of sage. I must confess, I couldn’t resist the temptation to return the next day and nab a few of them. Forgive me father, for I have sinned.

Call it divine inspiration, but as I picked out the best leaves my holy Cowley sage shrub had to offer, all the while taking furtive looks over my shoulder to check I was in the clear, I knew exactly what I wanted to make. Problem was, as a practising vegan, I realised I couldn’t savour this woody herb in what must be its purest, most delicious form, that is, fried with gnocchi in brown butter with lemon and enjoyed as is. I need not have been so dismayed, because as I’ve found out, not only is a vegan spin-off of this classic entirely possible, but (whisper it quietly) it’s better than the original. Here’s how to make it.

The actual cooking of this dish is pleasingly simple. Cook the gnocchi in well salted water until they float, then fish them out with a slotted spoon and fry them in a non-stick pan in plenty of good extra virgin olive oil – a competent and delicious stand in here for butter, that won’t burn if you get it too hot, and doesn’t involve cows. Don’t be shy with the oil, it is the base of the sauce. The idea here is to brown and crisp the gnocchi a little bit. Give them a head start before adding the sage, with an optional whole bashed clove of garlic, and cook until your kitchen smells amazing and the sage is slightly crispy. 

Keep hold of some of the starchy gnocchi cooking water, as this can be added to the pan, then reduced and agitated to form a glossy emulsified sauce that coats the gnocchi and carries the taste of the sage brilliantly. The coming together of the sauce can also be helped along by a tablespoon or two of nutritional yeast, which acts as thickener of sorts, and lends what the packaging describes as a cheesy and nutty flavour. I couldn’t agree more. Once reduced and an emulsion formed, add the juice of around half a lemon, season to taste, and give it another toss. The lemon at this stage offers some very welcome freshness in an otherwise aggressively savoury meal. Serve and top with freshly black pepper and a drizzle of fresh olive oil if you’d like, and enjoy a shockingly delicious, simple and satisfying meal.

This recipe works well with pre-made gnocchi from the supermarket, but making gnocchi is easy and the texture is noticeably superior. Gnocchi from scratch also falls nicely into the surprisingly short list of hands-on meals that take around an hour, and are perfect to make with your friends. Having had a pumpkin spice donut from Crosstown earlier in the day, I was struck with autumnal fervour, so my gnocchi are made with sweet potato that placated my desire for something orange on my plate. 

For around 4 portions, boil roughly 500g of peeled and chopped sweet potato in salted water until very soft. Drain the potatoes, and mash well in the pot they were cooked in, before laying them out on a chopping board or surface and mashing further with a fork until smooth. It’s a good idea to leave the potato spread out on the board to cool at this stage, as some of the moisture will evaporate, meaning your gnocchi will need less flour. Once cooler, begin working in flour to the potato, bit by bit, until a soft kneadable dough is formed – it will probably need more flour than you think. Before rolling it into shape, leave it to sit for at least 15 minutes, which will hydrate the flour and make the dough far easier to work with. After the dough has rested, split into smaller lumps, dust a surface with flour, and roll into sausages as wide as you’d like your gnocchi to be. Cut lengthwise with a sharp knife into pillow shapes and place on a separate plate so the gnocchi doesn’t stick to each other. 

While this process is a little time consuming, the end result is worth the effort. Put on some music, crack open a beer, and thank yourself for escaping the tedium of pesto pastas and oven pizzas that might otherwise populate your kitchen. 

Teddy Hall claims new accommodation could save students £2000 in housing costs

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St Edmund Hall’s new accommodation is part of the college’s plan to house all its undergraduate students for the entirety of their course rather than finding private accommodation in second year, potentially saving students time, money, and stress.

Currently, only 60% of students can live in college-owned accommodation, and very few undergraduates have the option of living in college-owned accommodation for the entirety of their course.

Teddy Hall has said the project would save students £2000 in housing costs as they would not have to seek expensive private accommodation. As a result, the college claims that the new site would “improve access to higher education for those from low-income backgrounds.”

Nevertheless, accommodation at Teddy Hall is not cheap in comparison with other Colleges; a first-year room in the college itself costs £28.85 a night.

Second-year students usually have to rent privately and Teddy Hall’s website recommends: “that you start your search for second-year private-rental accommodation halfway through your first term”.

One student described the process as “very stressful”, especially “having to find people to live with after not knowing them for very long”.

Other students detailed the strain that house-hunting placed on academic work with organising calls and house visits during term time or instead of going to lectures.

The new development includes 127 study bedrooms and communal facilities and is on the college’s Norham Gardens site, currently used for postgraduate accommodation, off Banbury Road. The new site will therefore be a 22-minute walk from St Edmund Hall. Nevertheless, most students currently live further from the College on Iffley or Cowley Road.

Professor Baroness Kathrine Willis, principal of the College, said: “This once-in-a-generation development for the Hall … embodies care for two precious things – our students and our planet.”

The accommodation is part of the College’s aims to move towards net zero in energy use and to encourage biodiversity with an estimated 88% net gain in biodiversity over the site.

The architects – Wright & Wright Architects – have also designed various buildings around Oxford including for St John’s College and have said that the new development is likely to be finished in 2025, with work to start later this year.

The building will welcome its first students in the autumn of 2026.

Podcasts: where they’ve been and where they’re going

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Ah, podcasts. These days, it’s easy to feel like everyone’s got one. Seemingly every week a new politician or former footballer is launching their show and at the same time, your mates are spamming your social media urging you to listen. The big question is why? What’s behind the sudden boom in a format that’s existed for nearly 20 years and what is it that makes the medium so attractive to Ed Balls, Gary Lineker, Joe Rogan, and your best friend alike?

As I say, although podcasts might seem like a recent invention, they actually started out life way back in 2004. That was when Adam Curry and David Winer first harnessed RSS feeds to bring their favourite radio shows to the IPod that was released a few years earlier, hence the amalgamation of ‘IPod’ and ‘broadcast’ to give you the name, ‘podcast’. Apple added native support a year later in 2005 and the industry plodded along for the next seven or eight years in a fairly low-profile way. Initially dominated by existing radio shows and hobbyists, it was until the early 2010s that some of today’s most famous shows were born. 2009 saw Joe Rogan launch ‘The Joe Rogan Experience’, in 2011, ‘The Vergecast’ was born, and a seminal moment came in 2014 when NPR first recorded ‘This American Life’. Still dominated by the United States, Apple announced that it had 1 billion listens on its platform in 2013 and in 2019 Spotify entered the game with the acquisition of Anchor before making Joe Rogan exclusive to its platform two years later. All of this is to say that, especially stateside, podcasts are nothing new.

The last five years or so have seen an explosion in growth, most notably in the United Kingdom. Ten years ago, just 12% of people had listened to a podcast and that is now up to 50% in the UK. As of last month, a staggering 4,256,179 podcasts had been registered globally and the past two years have seen celebrities from Harry and Megan to Steven Bartlett enter the game in a big way. The looming question though is why, especially when only around 5% of shows make any kind of money.

The answer lies in a few key areas but, more than anywhere, in the freedom that hosts are afforded. Much like YouTube offered a platform to millions in the 2010s, podcasting gives people a place to speak about what they want, when they want, how they want. Even better than YouTube, there is no need to invest in expensive camera equipment or spend hours in an edit suite.

This is probably a good time to declare my personal bias towards podcasting. As well as an avid listener to dozens of shows, I am also the host of a food show and launched last term’s Cherwell Weekly podcast. For me, the low barrier of entry was absolutely vital. I never set out to make any kind of money from my episodes, where I interview chefs and people in the food industry about their restaurants and their journeys. To this day, I sometimes record conversations with the microphone in my laptop and spend less than an hour editing together my conversations. Of course, there are far more high-production affairs than mine but that flexibility has, with no advertising whatsoever, seen me travel the world to record episodes and an average of 100,000 listens on every one.  

That intimacy and freedom is something that countless hosts much larger than myself talk about. A great example is The News Agents, which has seen three former BBC journalists launch their own space to investigate topics that they choose for as long or as little as they want, exactly how they want.

Clearly, the personal element of listening is a two-way streak and certainly nothing new. In some ways, the medium is filling the gap left by the radio industry. Somewhat uniquely in the UK and perhaps due to the popularity of the BBC, the decline in radio listening has been far less substantial. Today, 89.6% of adults still say that they listen to the radio at least once a week, down just one percent from 2010 and at least 10% higher than in the US. 87% of consumers say that having someone else’s voice was one of the key reasons that they tuned in.

However, whereas space on the radio waves is limited and pricey, podcasting’s breadth gives space to niches that consumers delight in. You’d be very unlikely to discover a live radio broadcast about professional cycling, technology news, or female health, and yet some of the biggest podcasts in the country tackle those very topics. Radio dramas have become the reserve of Radio 4 listeners and yet narrative and true crime podcasts have developed an industry of their own.

That personal connection manifests itself physically too, sometimes to extraordinary levels.  Live tours from the likes of ‘The Rest is Politics’, ‘High Performance’, and, ‘The Football Ramble’, have sold out venues across the country and beyond. ‘The Peter Crouch Podcast’ (undoubtedly a personal favourite) takes things to a whole different level with ‘Crouchfest’. This now annual event recently completed its third edition and saw the trio of Peter Crouch, Chris Stark, and Steve Sidwell, sell out Wembley Arena (capacity 12 500) without announcing a single element of the show beforehand. Hosts from that show are regularly greeted on the street with inside jokes from the podcast and their international reach has led to calls for them to take ‘Crouchfest’ abroad.

On the back of all of this rapid development Oxford has developed an entire podcasting world of their own. The University led the way on this back in 2008 when they launched their first podcast channel, originally on the iTunes U platform. Since then, more than 5,360 hours of content have been released as part of the University’s desire to expand its reach and accessibility to all communities. The official website says that downloads have come from 185 countries since the first release and that new episodes are put out almost every day by different departments. Much like The Open University looked to democratise education and Khan Academy brings free educational resources to all, Oxford clearly sees podcasts as a platform to help future applicants and those in far-flung corners of the world alike. It is perhaps no surprise that those two other institutions have followed suit with podcasts of their own.

On the student side, several shows have come and gone over the years with the re-establishment of Oxide Radio two years ago providing a useful outlet for numerous. The Loaf Podcast, hosted by two students, has attracted guests as wide-ranging as Alistair Campbell and Wim Hof to its chat show format since originally launching out of the student radio station. Speaking about the format, the pair said that, “Podcasts can be filmed but – importantly – they don’t have to be. This means people can record shows with nothing more than a microphone. It also means that someone can listen to them on the go, which seems to be why they’ve become so popular.” Speaking to the personal connection mentioned earlier they said that, “The reward for us comes in the form of listener engagement and the joy of learning.”  The explosive growth means that, “it also presents itself as a potential career.”

From personal experience, I can only echo those sentiments. The inherent paradox of podcasting is that you are speaking to the entire world in the most personal of mediums. The combination of both of those things is what makes it such a powerful and attractive platform. As I always say to my guests, at the end of the day you’re just letting someone else in on your chat.

Going forward, experts are split on what the future might hold for podcasting. Despite the fact that advertising revenues are set to hit $4 billion early next year, key players such as Spotify are signalling a retreat. Their CFO Paul Vogel said last week that podcasting was proving to be a ‘drag’ on profits and CEO Daniel Eck said that the company was, ‘constantly finding new ways to bring more efficiencies out of the business’ whilst notably omitting podcasts from the vast majority of a recent shareholders meeting. In the past, Spotify had made huge investments in the area and catalysed the huge growth in the industry. Despite this, I’d be surprised if the area as a whole really took a hit. Remember that 38.4% of all podcasts are started as a hobby and that only 5% make sustainable income – any change in the viability of shows as a business is unlikely to affect the vast majority.  As radio continues a slow decline, the gap is bound to be filled by different audio content – there is a reason that hearing other peoples’ voices in your ears has been so popular for so long.

The Not So Secret History: moments of clarity

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Is ‘happy fifth week’ a contradiction in terms? Either way, I hope yours isn’t going too badly. We’ve reached the stage in term where no one realistically has the mental capacity to read a whole page of information, so instead I’m going to give you a series of episodes that have taken place in the house over the past few weeks. Besides, until the inevitable end-of-fourth-week crash I wasn’t generally in the house and conscious for more than a few minutes each day, so this way you’ll get my authentic experience. Lucky you!

We’ve had quite a few visitors over the past couple of weeks, both of the two and the four-legged variety. A few weekends ago I hesitantly left The Cook in charge of my two dogs while my parents took me out for lunch. 

‘Will they be ok?’ the parents asked me anxiously as we left, ‘The dogs can be quite full-on!’

‘I’m sure they’ll manage,’ I reassured them. Halfway through lunch I checked my phone, to be met by no less than thirteen images from The Cook. They had apparently decided to give the dogs an impromptu photoshoot, posing them everywhere from the arm of the sofa to sitting under the oven while they cooked. Needless to say my parents’ fears were assuaged. 

The Cook also went back for a few much-needed home comforts the following weekend and, fed up with overpaying for supermarket herbs we would inevitably throw away after they died on our window sill, returned with a mini herb garden they’d smuggled onto the train. We are now the proud owners of rosemary, basil, thyme and parsley plants, and ‘Herb Tending’ has been duly added to the weekly list of chores. We got into some difficulty at first deciding which should become indoor residents and which outdoor, and quickly discovered the advice online is far from clear. Not wanting to put all our basils on one windowsill so to speak, we decided a little scientific investigation was necessary, and split the plants up with the aim of testing how they fared in different conditions.

Five humanities students who haven’t so much as lit a bunsen burner since GCSE double science struggled to recall the difference between a control and an independent variable, but after trial and error and some help from a biologist college spouse we managed to get at least one plant of each type in the right place. If anyone’s wondering, basil does need direct sunlight, but thyme likes a shady indoor spot. Who said this column wasn’t educational?

Last week was a big week for The Thespian and The Classicist, who spent most of this term in rehearsals for their big show before being out every evening of fourth week making sure it ran smoothly. It has curiously become something of a whole household project: I was officially involved on the show on the marketing side, but even The Poet and The Cook managed to wheedle a mention in the programme. Admittedly, if you count all the rehearsals and production meetings that they overheard taking place in our kitchen, they have probably put more hours into the show than some of the crew, but their most concrete (and unexpected) contribution was made last week. I came home late one evening to find The Classicist had left a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen – seeing a full bottle of alcohol was immediately a suspicious sign, and upon closer inspection  I saw the following note: ‘DRINK ME. Need it for a prop but I don’t like whiskey.’ It soon transpired that none of us actually liked neat whiskey very much, so I suggested we make whiskey sours–which happens to be one of my favourite cocktails–as a nice housemate activity one evening.

Imagine my outrage when I arrived home, admittedly again quite late, the following evening to an empty whiskey bottle, a pile of lemon rinds and a very sticky cocktail shaker. I’m ashamed to say my shriek of indignation actually roused The Poet from their bed and sent them running to the kitchen for fear of an intruder. Once I’d been calmed down enough to listen to reason, it transpired The Poet had taken up my suggestion and made whiskey sours all round, making short work of the bottle in my absence. I suppose it serves me right for spending too many evenings out of the house. At least I can now watch the show safe in the knowledge that their valiant efforts have made it possible for an actor to appear to get very drunk off nothing stronger than peach ice tea, and the non-thespians can say they’ve made their Oxford theatre debut.

And now for the bit you’ve all been waiting for: the landlord updates. Not much to report here, except that the council came in for routine inspection. The Cook’s first reaction: ‘Oh no! I accidentally left some soil in the shower when I was watering the herbs. The council people are going to think I’m really dirty’. They didn’t mention it. What was slightly strange was that a representative from the letting agency came too, which resulted in a highly entertaining sitcom style routine, whereby the council person would tell us something was wrong (for example, the mould sprouting from the bathroom wall), the letting agent would tell us it was our fault, and then the council person would politely tell the letting agent that no, actually, it’s their responsibility and they shouldn’t be expecting us to live in these conditions.

It quickly became clear that we weren’t going to be getting in any trouble, so we started showing them all the many things that are wrong with the house. The council man, feverishly scribbling away at his clipboard, was barely able to keep up, and the letting agent began to look at us like a parent whose child is embarrassing it in front of other grown-ups. The only backlash we’ve had so far was being sent a bottle of mould spray in the post by the letting agents, which when sprayed onto the wall and wiped off took all the paint work with it. And so it goes on…Perhaps one week I’ll write this column and have no complaints whatsoever about our lovely house. But what fun would that be?

After the madness of the first half of term it’s safe to say I’ll be retreating into the house to hibernate for a while, although since we have a housemate pact not to turn the heating on until at least Hilary I might get forced out again by the cold. But until that time, I plan to stay firmly put, and hopefully I’ll have a more cohesive story for you all next time.

I bought pesto, pissed

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I may be a food editor, but I am far from an accomplished cook. My staples are a Tesco meal deal, canned tomato soup, and crackers with some variation of spread. What I was thinking when I decided to purchase ridiculously overpriced truffle pesto in Italy is … not as much of a mystery as I’d like to pretend. I was in the middle of a day of wine tasting (without a spittoon), and I was lured in with free samples of everything from biscuits to chocolates to eventually, the pesto. It stayed in my suitcase for two weeks as I travelled, before I brought it to college where it sat in my cupboard for a month as I decided how best to use it.

Fortunately, I live with Jack, a second-year Univ medic who has spent the past few years’ worth of holidays working as a chef. When not producing an essay, he’s usually cooking something exotic I haven’t heard of. Unlike me, he actually enjoys being in the kitchen and was more than happy to take responsibility for my tiny €16 jar of pesto. His idea was to make his own pesto and compare the two for quality and price, which I can only believe will prove embarrassing for me and my (drunken) retail choices.

His immediate recommendations included buying the ingredients to match the quality of the pesto, meaning not the cheapest I could find, but focussing on more than the price per unit. I decided the best way to go about this was to ask him to do the shopping, with a promise of reimbursement, and after a quick trip to Tesco, he was cooking – or rather grinding – to the tune of Eminem’s Without Me.

Jack had several ideas for dishes that would incorporate pesto, from pizza to steak sandwiches, but settled on the student classic, pesto pasta. The beginning of this process was to grind together garlic and salt to a desired consistency in a pestle and mortar (or a blender for those without the muscle/energy), before toasting pine nuts on a low heat to draw out their flavour. Next, all these ingredients, and the basil, were added to the pestle and mortar, and ground to a “pesto-like paste” (I did ask, but no further clarification was forthcoming). Then Parmesan was grated in and combined using the pestle and mortar, until a lighter colour appeared, and olive oil was added to form a desirable consistency.

Upon its completion, I was given a taste. The freshness and quality of homemade was much better than shop bought, for the small price of £2 (ish). All that was left was to compare it to the €16 (£13.96) pesto I’d brought back from Italy. My pesto tasted strongly of its key ingredient, truffle, though it had a hard time sticking to the pasta and was largely lost, and any hint of basil or nut was disguised in a relatively thin sauce. Its umami flavour is admittedly difficult to balance (or so I’m told) and frankly was more interesting to eat, than comforting or pleasant. Jack’s pesto on the other hand was much creamier – indicative of a greater Parmesan content – and made for a rich dish that I’d happily eat any day of the week. It was thicker and coated the pasta well, though it was noticeably plain in comparison to the depths of the truffle.

On the whole, given the sheer chasm of a price difference, Jack’s pesto is a clear winner. Cheap, easy to make, and still delicious to eat, I can only wonder at what I was thinking, spending so much on so little. My truffle pesto did have one redeeming quality: it was unique to anything else in our flat. As an occasional treat, to enhance a classic dish and shake up the usual routine, it was well suited. But if I were given the choice between the two day-to-day, regardless of price, I would choose the comforting, creamy option every time.

If the quantities given in the recipe seem vague, it is because Jack produced this pesto measuring each element from memory, with an ease and familiarity derived from years of love for his craft. I could only watch with admiration, and gratitude that I have the opportunity to benefit from his skill. For anyone with a similar love for food, I would strongly recommend exploring ingredients and techniques in the kitchen, or alternatively as I have done, befriending a chef.

OUCA presidential candidate removed as Political Officer due to “doctored electoral evidence”

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Following a Disciplinary Committee (DC) meeting, one of Oxford University Conservative Association (OUCA) presidential candidates has been removed from his post as Political Officer. Hugo Roma-Wilson pleaded guilty to “misleading the Returning Officer in the course of her execution of the election” and “disrupting the conduct of an election.”

In a report on the DC’s decision circulated to OUCA members earlier today it was announced that Roma-Wilson “submitted fraudulently doctored electoral evidence” to the Returning Officer “in an illicit attempt to induce [the Returning Officer] to accept electoral publicity past the deadline.” He also lied to members of the OUCA committee when questioned about the doctored evidence.

Roma-Wilson admitted to these actions and was consequently removed from his post as a Political Officer and fined £50. He told Cherwell that he had “submitt[ed] electoral evidence one minute late.” This has not yet been confirmed by OUCA.

Roma-Wilson, who is standing for the OUCA presidency in next week’s elections, will be allowed to retain his candidacy. According to Roma-Wilson, the Disciplinary Committee “did not consider my error severe enough to warrant disqualification from the election” adding that he “looks forward to running for President on Wednesday next week.”

The DC report noted that it was “mindful” that letting a “candidate at the highest level… act fraudulently without serious consequences” risked doing “significant damage” to confidence in OUCA’s elections. 

However, as Roma-Wilson pled guilty and “admitted to his mistake”, the DC considered it disproportionate to disqualify him. They stated instead that “members should be permitted to make their own judgements in the upcoming election.”

OUCA told Cherwell: “The Disciplinary Committee has accepted the Ex-Committee Member’s sincere apology and imposed a proportionate penalty under our internal procedures. OUCA looks forward to moving beyond this incident and focusing on continuing to deliver our excellent termcard.”

This is not the first shakeup of OUCA leadership that has occurred this term. In September, OUCA president Peter Walker resigned following two disciplinary complaints against him. The last elections were also marred by “chaotic” clashes between the ousted former president Caleb van Ryneveld and the OUCA committee.

The OUCA presidential elections, in which Roma-Wilson remains a candidate, are set to occur next Wednesday from 12 pm to 6 pm.

Over 1000 people protest for immediate ceasefire in Gaza

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Around 1200 people gathered this Saturday to protest against Israel’s bombing in Gaza and demand an immediate ceasefire in response to the current humanitarian crisis. The protest, jointly organised by five Oxfordshire groups*, including the Oxford Palestine Society, featured a march from Cowley to Bonn Square.

This protest follows many other Oxford-based protests during the past month against Israel’s bombing of Gaza and its occupation of areas within the West Bank. The most recent large-scale protest occurred on 5 November, and a sit-down protest was organised last Friday outside the Radcliffe Camera and Bodleian Library.

Throughout the protest, familiar slogans were chanted, such as “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” and “Free Free Palestine.” More recent chants also emerged, including “Stop bombing children” and “Rishi Sunak / Keir Starmer is a wasteman.”

The American Jewish Council has said that, while advocating for Palestinian statehood is not antisemitic, the slogan ‘From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free’, counts as “calling for the elimination of the Jewish state, or suggesting that the Jews alone do not have the right to self-determination” and is antisemitic.

Additionally, protesters held up various banners and placards, which stated “Stop the Genocides”, “Labour side with Genocide”, and “Ceasefire Now.” Banners with a list of Gazans who lost their lives in the conflict were also displayed.

One of the protesters, an Oxford DPhil student, told Cherwell: “I think it is really important to keep coming out to these protests to remind the government that we don’t support what they’re calling for at the moment and that we need a ceasefire and to send a message out to all the people in Gaza and the West Bank to let them know we stand with them we’ll keep fighting for them until Palestine is free.”

Another student stated: “I think it’s amazing to see so many people out today. Of course, recently they announced a humanitarian pause but that’s clearly not enough. More people are going to the south but now that the attacks on the Shifa hospital are done, Israel is planning to move forward to the south. Where would those people go? We need to act right now before we witness something that the world will regret.”

These protests come after retaliatory attacks and an offensive by Israel in Gaza after the Hamas-led terrorist attack on 7th October. Over 12,000 people have been killed in Gaza following bombing raids by the Israel Defence Forces with 5000 children dead. In the UK, many Labour MPs have resigned over disagreement with Keir Starmer’s comments on the conflict. Ten local councillors have resigned in Oxford.

*Other groups include Action Against Oxford War Crimes, Oxford Palestine Solidarity Campaign, Oxford Ramallah Friendship Association, and Help the World Oxford.

Drowning in You

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Read the latest from The Source on the theme of relationships, ‘Drowning in You’!

I feel like I’m drowning as I struggle with your embrace
I lift my chin and try to breathe, as the deep blue of your eyes overwhelm me.
I fight for air between kisses, I battle at equal pace
And as the warmth of your fingers lap gently across the surface
Of that satin dress you love, fumble clumsily over pearlescent buttons
My fingers roam hungrily, and my lips rove for purchase
On your rough neck that tastes of salt, like the sea I miss so dearly,
My pearl, you’re all that remains.

Hold me, darling, as I search for Atlantis- that hidden city many have failed to find
Clutch me like a clam, as I nibble at your calloused, sailor’s fingers
As I dive and explore you, that sunken and stony maze of your mind
You churn my stomach with florescent flotsam in the stormy sea of whatever this is
Whatever it is, whenever this is, I begin to drown again every time.
And as the fish swim by they blow me little bubble kisses, champagne fizz
They recognise me as I sink in countless moments, without rhythm or rhyme.

Once I lie still, I struggle to tell if you anchor me or weigh me down, most likely both.
That’s in the nature of sea-crusted, auburn and rusting, heavy, interlocked, chains.
They are as necessary as their weight is crushing
Popping my lifeboat, my last means of escape
And as I stop fighting, I say a prayer to the watery powers above, God’s oath, in sinner’s pain.

I promise to never leave you, oh captain, my captain
And I hope you find with me that sunken treasure chest
I pray that it’s full of golden laughter and silvery midnight ranting
And all the rest, the countless, precious moments with you, my tragic Moby-Dick,
And all those jewel-toned sunsets that I love best.

And all that remains, my spiky pufferfish,
As my hands scope for sandy grains of magic in Dead Man’s Ocean grave
And my fingers dive through the seaweed of your hair,
That tenderly growing moss of your stubble in search of that cave.
That sea-cave where we first sat together, all those mourning years ago,
When, so impatient and young, we dove into this mess
Headstrong, headlong, as teenagers do best,
With their lean, keen, streamlined and focussed, neoprene frames.

Noah Kahan: Music Sensation or One-Album Wonder?

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I know very little about music. A vast amount of my Spotify wrapped includes Taylor Swift (about whom I know a lot), and what doesn’t is an eclectic mix of songs I’ve stolen from my friends’ music tastes and now appropriate as my own. So when it comes to reviewing music, I am hugely underqualified to do so. All of which is to say: take the following with a pinch of salt. 

I do, however, have a small obsession with Noah Kahan. You will find me on Hot Girl Walks listening to him, blasting his music in the car at full volume with the windows down, and sending his songs to my friends at every opportunity. Last April, we booked tickets to see an artist called Dermot Kennedy – whose songs I still can’t name even one of – just because Noah Kahan was his opener. The whole fiasco to get to the concert during train strikes involved borrowing a friend’s car with a worryingly dodgy clutch, driving two hours there (and a horrendous four hours back), all for a set that lasted under 45 minutes. 

So what is it about Kahan’s music that made those 45 minutes worth it?

Noah Kahan writes music that centres around his experience growing up in rural America, his struggles with alcoholism and mental health, and the ties he has to his hometown and the people in it as they grow up and leave. His writing hits a poignant note that captures the restlessness of being ready to leave home, but not being ready to say goodbye yet – the perfect album for his audience of students and young people moving away from home for the first time.

This explains why you may have heard the title track of the album going around TikTok, as well as its other single, Northern Attitude. Choosing which songs to tell you about is nearly impossible: it’s an album with virtually no skips. But let me suggest that you get into it the way I did, dipping your toes in the water with the titular single, moving on to the opening track of Northern Attitude, followed by Homesick and Everywhere, Everything, before you slow down a bit and brave the (more) emotional tracks of Growing Sideways and Orange Juice, two absolutely killer songs about Kahan’s experience with therapy and his friends’ experiences with a traumatic accident. I know it sounds like it might be a bit too heavy-hitting, but trust me, it’s worth it. Kahan writes in a way that is moving and hits the right balance between songs that touch on real life, whilst also making them perfectly cathartic to sing (shout) along to. His vivid and memorable lyrics will be stuck on repeat in your head for weeks. 

Stick Season gets its name from that time of year when the trees have lost all their leaves but it hasn’t yet snowed for the first time; a kind of liminal space between Hallowe’en and Christmas. Not only does this make it the perfect album to listen to as Michaelmas becomes colder and greyer, but it’s also perfect for branching out your music taste this term. Driven by Kahan’s voice and guitar, the album builds to some incredible bridges, backed by a steady, subtle kick drum (and yes, I did google what that is) that propels the music forward.  There’s also some banjo in there, but it’s in a cool, folk-pop way that adds dimension that lets you immerse yourself, rather than the more Keith Urban brand. 

The deluxe version of the album (Stick Season: We’ll All Be Here Forever), released at the beginning of June, also includes The View Between Villages (Extended Version), a haunting, incredible song that takes you with Kahan as he returns to his hometown. If any song is a must-listen, this one is. It’s a haunting song that you won’t be able to help getting swept up in. It starts out with Kahan’s vocals alone, slowly joined by the same drum as before, as he drives into the town. The guitar joins in to pick up the pace, the feeling a bit like you’re driving downhill, full speed, alongside Kahan. He passes all the monuments to his childhood, and you’re right there with him. A friend of mine listened to it for the first time and got literal goosebumps. It is full volume in the car, windows down kind of music. Hozier meets Phoebe Bridgers meets the nostalgia of The Lumineers. I love it. 

Since his huge success in the UK in April 2023, (2023 I’m assuming?), Noah Kahan has announced another tour around the UK in November, which sold out in less than five minutes. This resulted in extra dates being added and a second set of shows in February of 2024 (which has also sold out already – sorry to anyone who I’ve convinced to start listening). In the last few weeks alone, Kahan has been covered by Olivia Rodrigo, written songs with Zach Bryan, Lizzy McAlpine, and Post Malone, and has been covered on social media by a whole host of prominent artists. 

There you have it, then: the Stick Season songs seem set to stay on my playlists for the foreseeable future, and if the We’ll All Be Here Forever extra tracks are anything to go by, Kahan isn’t looking at stopping writing hit songs any time soon.