It isn’t about the drinking, you know; lord knows we’re all entitled to drink what we like. It isn’t about societies, either, and it isn’t even that drinking societies are bad, in themselves. I was in one myself, and it was daft and fun and harmless.

The problem, really, comes when they’re not harmless, when some bright spark floats the notion of spiking women’s drinks on a crew date, or when Conservative society decides dressing its women up as animals for a “fox hunt” social.

I just can’t help but feel that anger with the press for shining a light on, say, rugby players dressed as savages for an off-colour bop, or white folks in blackface in general, or people dressed as the exploding Twin Towers, for fuck’s sake, is particularly well placed. Blacking up, it should not need to be said, is not banterous, it’s a hurtful, overtly racist means of belittling a whole group of people for the colour of their skin. Describing women as “FREE PUSSY” and seeing them as nothing more than quarry to be hunted is equally unacceptable, and when this stuff happens, you can be damn sure it counts as news.

To be clear, I do not report on every last speck of ill behaviour I hear about; “shitfaced lax team projectile vomits across curryhouse toilet” is not news. You are vastly welcome, as far as I’m concerned, to get as battered as you like and indulge in as much naked windmilling as you physically can without the thing falling off, and you’ll never see me publish so much as a frowny-faced emoticon on the matter. But if you’ve gotten arseholed and disrupted A&E en masse in Cambridge, people are going to want to hear about it.

I admit that Oxford does get more than its fair share of press. I’ll tell you why: you are the elite, socially and academically, and people care about you and your misdemeanours. Why do you think the boat race has a viewership in the tens of millions? I guarantee it is not because Britain at large harbours a secret love of rowing. So if you misbehave on an egregious level – which of course practically none of you ever do – it will be read about.

There’s this feeling that Oxbridge somehow gets a negative rap in a media totally stuffed with alumni. If anything, I would contend that it gets a positive ride verging on the hagiographic, and that truly negative articles are noteworthy entirely by their rarity.

But it isn’t just you guys up to no good. There are drinking societies acting the twat up and down the land, from Stirling to Aberystwyth. Hell, when the Cambridge Wyverns were told they could no longer invite (intelligent, autonomous) women to jelly-wrestle in their pants, they invited them instead to ride a big pink bucking penis.

On a personal level I always found the whiff of class that pervaded most Oxford drinking societies to be more obnoxious, with their black ties and their black-balling. But my distaste for the likes of Grid and Piers Gav is better understood through a prism of economics, and the way Oxford’s posh boy boozing jamborees illustrate Oxford’s posh boy problem in general. That, though, isn’t news.

Unless you’ve spent most of your undergraduate life so far in a state of eremitism, someone will have presented you with an account of an all-male Oxford drinking society sexually objectifying, or even preying upon, a group of women. Drawing up fit lists; assuming guests to their events will end up ‘in bed with’ them; inviting female students to be ‘hunted’. That behaviour so belittling, entitled, and sometimes sinisterly predatory has not been suffered gladly and has in the last few years brought under fire such societies as the Black Cygnets of St Hugh’s, the Syndicate at Teddy Hall, and Hertford’s Penguin Club bodes well for Oxford’s development towards a less intimidating social landscape. What bodes less well, however, is that the criticism levelled at these institutions and others of their ilk is largely limited in scope to their treatment of women, occasionally extending to their proclivity to smash up restaurants, leave trails of glass in their wake, and decorate second quads with vomit. Of course, with their readily identifiable victims and their palpable consequences, these are the transgressions of Oxford’s drinking societies which make the easiest, and in some ways the most urgent, matters of discussion. However, if we are committed to confronting the quietly pervasive feelings of inadequacy and isolation that haunt so many of the university’s less privileged students as well as dealing with the ubiquitous spectre of misogyny, the discussion can’t end there. We have to address a number of other problems with Oxford’s drinking society culture.

Foremost amongst these is the way that drinking societies promote, by the very fact of their existence, the idea that some people’s company is so undesirable that barriers must be erected in order to ward it off and an association with them so objectionable that it must be denied. I know that sounds like a very ungenerous interpretation of drinking society culture and I don’t believe that many (if any) of its participants consciously set out to deliver to other students the message that they are ‘undesirables’ but considering the facts for a moment, I think it is clear that it is something they absolutely do. Now, there are some contexts in which our social interaction with others must be in some way circumscribed and formalised. A football competition is one such context. A boozy meal or night in Bridge is not. The nature of your activity is not emptied of its meaning if one or two more people decide to join you, as would be the case if two more players took to one side of the football pitch. The activity you are engaged in does not depend on all participants remaining recognisable as members of a named social constellation, as is the case in a football tournament. Alcohol-fuelled inter-year or inter-collegiate bonding is not enabled only by the formalisation of a social grouping and the close controlling of its boundaries. Thus where such formalisation has occurred, it is difficult to understand what the motivation behind it could be if not a deep disinclination to mix with, or even to be categorised alongside, anyone outside the select coterie in question. Even in the many cases where those who are excluded have no real desire to mix with the members of the self-proclaimed society, these clear, public signs that they would not be welcome to do so can still prove hurtful.

But it is not only over this essential fault that most of our drinking societies should be challenged: a high proportion of Oxford’ effective private members’ clubs must be called out for their gleeful flaunting of privilege. What makes that longstanding rumour about Bullingdon boys burning fifties in front of the homeless so believable is the fact that they, alongside members of most of the city’s other drinking clubs, can be seen burning their money on so many other occasions. Sometimes through excessive consumption (apparently the raison d’être of the Piers Gaveston society), sometimes through wanton destruction. Always in very bad taste. Because while it is easy to see, when you think about it rationally, that it is the individuals who put on these displays of luxury who are further out of step with most of Oxford, that does not stop those of us from working class backgrounds feeling, when another tale of their excesses hits the rumour mill, that old fear that Oxford is a place for the rich: a playground of privilege in which we are quite alone. And the fear is coupled with an increasingly strong sense of dissatisfaction with your own lot. Both this dissatisfaction and the sense of not belonging are reinforced, of course, by the way that a number of drinking societies not only flaunt them but treat those inherited comforts of wealth and social prominence as the ultimate indices of a person’s worth, indulging in a practice (unprovable but very real) of shortlisting candidates for each new intake based primarily, if not exclusively, on the schools they went to and the people they holiday with. Such a modus operandi, when it is observed in action enough times, goes a step further than making working-class students aware of their relative position on a socio-economic spectrum: it leaves them embarrassed by it. If you are shown repeatedly that only being rich and well-connected makes you socially desirable, eventually you start to believe it. Because their ways reinforce, and sometimes even inculcate, this sense of embarrassment, alongside feelings of dissatisfaction, isolation and rejection, Oxford’s drinking societies – even when they seem to be on their best behaviour – represent a dark blot on the university’s social landscape.

I’d like to know a bit more about Regent’s Rabbits – what sort of things do you do?

Beth: As a normal drinking society we go on crew dates (with all sorts of societies, blues teams, other college drinking societies and college sports teams). We go to Arzoo for crew dates. We used to go to At Thai but aren’t allowed back there…

Henna: We mainly do crewdate dinners at Arzoo, but we also have events where we spend a small budget we have from the JCR on drinks for the girls in a more informal setting (for those who don’t necessarily enjoy the traditional crewdate).

So you mainly do crewdate style dinners. Do you have any particular traditions for these events?

Henna: Yep, we do have our own set of drinking rules and traditions e.g. fines for those who wish to leave the table. They tend to be on the slightly outrageous side perhaps but are all good fun.

I understand that it is a very inclusive society, inviting to its events any who wish to go. Do you think this is an attitude more societies should take, especially those which term themselves ‘drinking societies’?

Beth: Our society is open to all girls at Regent’s and most girls come on at least one crew date to see if it’s their sort of thing. Some girls come on every crew date, some on just one. But I think it’s probably impractical for most colleges to be completely inclusive in their drinking societies because their colleges are big and they would have an impractical amount of people trying to crew date. Regent’s only have 30 people in a year so we can afford to invite all girls on crew dates.

Henna: I think the Rabbits are very specific to the culture of Regent’s generally, particularly its size. I’m not sure the model we have would work at larger colleges where perhaps the girls don’t know each other as well. We know each other really well and are generally open and comfortable each other. This makes boundaries very clear.

How do you think your society is perceived within college? Is it an important part of college life?

Beth: I think Rabbits is an important part of college life; the fun we have on crew dates inspired the boys of Regent’s to form their own drinking society, Re-Gents. As a college we love drinking and going out and the drinking societies create an organised outlet for this.

Does it enhance the reputation of the college, or make it a nicer place to be?

Beth: Within college I think our society is perceived very positively. We are a pretty well known drinking society throughout Oxford; I’ve met people who haven’t heard of Regent’s but have heard of Regent’s Rabbits. Most people in college love Regent’s and are proud to be a part of it; by making Regent’s well-known throughout the University we are doing a positive thing that the college support.

Is there anything you’d like to tell me which I haven’t asked?

Henna: In my opinion it’s a really good chance for us to assert our identity and have some fun as a group. There is the perception of crewdates as being all about pulling and girls being objectified but this is really not the case with our crewdates. We dress up because we enjoy it.

For many members of the public, the flaws of Oxford University are epitomised by drinking societies. In the press, discussion of students is dominated by talk of the Bullingdon; more recently, the Black Cygnets at St Hugh’s were condemned in national newspapers for leading a “fox hunt” of freshers. But how true are the rumours of elitism, misogyny, and ‘lad culture’ which surround drinking societies? This week, C+ investigates the truth about drinking clubs across the University.

Drinking societies have long played a role in the lives of students at the University of Oxford, with the Bullingdon Club – probably the university’s most famous and most notorious, drinking society, founded in 1780. Drinking societies have proliferated since, with the majority of Oxford colleges today playing host to at least one group which terms itself a ‘drinking society’.

Respondents to a survey by C+ revealed 28 drinking societies across fifteen colleges. Much of the information used in this investigation was gathered from a survey with questions on drinking societies, and which attracted over 250 responses.

Many students noted that the breadth of the term “drinking society”, ranging from Exeter’s Topiary Team to university wide clubs like the Stoics. One comment on the survey read, “‘Drinking society’ is a broad term which encompasses the Bullingdon, Teddy Hall rowers, Regent’s Rabbits and weird OUCA ones. It’s not a one size fits all.”

Nevertheless, the term ‘drinking society’ is viewed in a negative light by many people. Several students said that college drinking societies and those affiliated with sports teams or political organisations seem to be viewed in the same way as university wide drinking societies, which are the most famous and the most notorious, despite major differences.

References to the Bullingdon Club often featured in the comments of students as collected by the Cherwell survey. Responses to the question, ‘Do you believe Oxford University’s reputation is affected by reports of drinking societies and the activities thereof?’ included one answer of “negatively”, which was elaborated simply with “The Bullingdon”, while another comment read, “Drinking societies fit right into the image of a Bullingdon Club member and this is not at all the image of Oxford we want to be painting.”

But whilst the Bullingdon might attract the most attention, it is not the only organisation which gives drinking societies a reputation of wealth and privilege. The Piers Gaveston society, notable for former members including Tom Parker Bowles, Ian Hislop and Hugh Grant, holds annual parties at secret locations, to which the members (limited to twelve students) invite hundreds of friends. These parties are supposedly held in large country houses and are rumoured to involve the consumption of champagne, caviar and illegal substances such as recreational drugs. The Piers Gaveston is, however, ostensibly a dining club, not a drinking society. It is called a drinking society by many and as such put into the same category as, for example, Regent’s Rabbits.

It is not surprising, then, that drinking societies, when referred to with that umbrella term, conjure up the image of wealth, privilege and decadence for which Oxford is famous. Many of those who responded to the survey made this point. One read, “Drinking societies are often nothing to do with people who like to drink/get drunk; they’re often just rich groups of friends”, while another said, “Drinking societies are a relic of an Oxford which is no longer. They are a chance for public school boys to maintain their sense of superiority, and for the more capricious of state educated students to have a go at playing with the ‘lads’. Drinking societies are misogynistic, exclusive and quite frankly repulsive.”

Many drinking society members tried to distance themselves from perceived elitist organisations. One member of the Somerville Ladies Ultimate Tequila Society, or SLUTS, said, “We have never been particularly outrageous. It really is all about getting together, seeing your friends, meeting some new people on a crew date and having a bit of fun. I think this is necessary given how stressful and intense Oxford can be at times.”

While the number of women’s drinking societies is growing, many students alleged that there are several misogynistic drinking societies. The Black Cygnets, a society based at St Hugh’s, courted controversy when they invited a group of female freshers to take part in a “fox hunt”, with the women dressed as foxes attempting to “evade mauling”. Last year, Teddy Hall’s society ‘The Syndicate’ was criticised for inviting female freshers to their ‘In Bed With The Syndicate’ event, asking them to dress up as schoolgirls.

Hannah Dickinson, the college’s current JCR welfare rep, attended an ‘In Bed’ event as a fresher in 2012. She commented, “I attended ‘In Bed’ as a fresher (Summer 2012) and I do believe that for the girls who are invited to the event there is a certain degree of pressure to attend, however I feel that much of that is peer pressure borne from within the girls and not necessarily from the members of the Syndicate.

“I personally feel uncomfortable with the event being named ‘In Bed With the Syndicate’ as I feel it promulgates an image which is inherently negative for the girls who attend the event. However, as I have previously stated the girls are not told what to wear, and as I said before, if the fresher girls chose to wear school uniform then they ultimately chose to subscribe to whatever ‘objectification’ comes as a corollary of dressing as a ‘school girl’. At essence I believe it is wrong for the boys to expect the girls to wear a ‘uniform’ of any kind, but obviously it is possible for the girls to subvert that request and choose to wear a uniform which is not typically seen as attractive.”

One person who responded to the survey commented, “I am so completely against the culture of some drinking societies at Oxford. I think the ‘lad culture’ which pervades many male drinking societies and rugby clubs (including my own college’s rugby club) must be stamped out. Oxford students are meant to be young and intelligent, it’s both sad and shocking that young men in our university think it’s OK to regard their female peers in a derogatory manner.”

Some students remain suspicious of drinking societies due to their secrecy. A Freedom of Information Request sent to all colleges and PPHs, suggests many colleges are unaware of drinking societies. Of sixteen responses from colleges and PPHs, all stated that from information available no disciplinary action had been taken against drinking societies or their activities.

Members of drinking societies are reluctant to talk about them. E-mails were sent to over sixty alleged members of drinking societies based in colleges across Oxford, yet only four responses were received. Three stated that they weren’t members of drinking societies, and only one gave information on a drinking society.

In the view of some students, drinking societies undermine the reputation of Oxford University. One student wrote, “The main male and female drinking societies are very narrow, since new members are ultimately decided by the president alone. Both societies consist of a large proportion of the people that everybody secretly dislikes, in college, resulting in a negative feeling towards the societies on a personal level.”

68% of students said that drinking societies had an effect Oxford’s reputation. Conversely, when asked whether drinking societies affect college reputations, only 35% said yes. One comment explained, “A highly misogynistic drinking society at my college is not known about outside of it.”

One student, who thought the university was affected negatively by drinking societies, said, “The image of Oxford as an elitist, isolated place in its own little bubble that is detached from reality is only enhanced by the survival of drinking societies which choose along lines (i.e. gender) which are no longer socially acceptable in the wider world.”

Despite all this, many Oxford students are ambivalent towards drinking societies. Of those who said they were not members of drinking societies, the most common reason was simply, “I don’t want to join one”.