Perhaps the most surreal aspect of appearing on University Challenge is watching how you go down online. My friends and I tracked the response to me on Twitter with a mixture of masturbatory fascination and abject horror, and were met with a sea of creepy, sexually explicit and insulting tweets. I’ve been asked (note “asked”; I’ve not quite reached the heights of self-obsession necessary to propose such a feature) to list my five favourite below, so here they are:

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Being caked in make-up under hot studio lights in a thick jumper clearly didn’t do me any favours.

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HONK. What people think they can infer about your sexual preferences is alarming(ly accurate).

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You could look up “hungry power bottom” but it’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like. The second was an exceptionally creative insult; I was actually trying to smile subtly at my grandma in the audience, but I did look like a bit of a cunt/amphibian so fair.

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Perhaps the creepiest of the tweets, but I’m classing this as being ‘papped’ and thus the start of my ascent to fame.

“She’s a phenomenon. She seems to know what the question is before you’ve even finished saying it.” So said Jeremy Paxman in 2009 of Gail Trimble, the captain of the winning University Challenge team from Corpus Christi.

Now a Fellow and Tutor at Trinity College, Gail shot to fame, briefly, for her stunning performance on UK TV’s longest running quiz show. She remains a strong fan of the quiz, but after mixed press coverage of her triumph in 2009 she says she might have second thoughts if she were applying again.

Gail’s performance was certainly exceptional. In a match against St John’s, Cambridge, she personally scored 185 out of 260 points. In the quarter-finals she won fifteen buzzer rounds, leading Corpus to a 350-15 victory. Their opponents, Exeter University, left with the second lowest score in the show’s history. 

“It’s a sport really and I absolutely enjoy the competitive aspect,” says Gail with a big smile when I meet her this week almost five years after the final. “The fun of University Challenge is working out where the question is going.”

The Corpus team stormed the final in exciting style winning 275-190, and scoring 125 points in the last four minutes. Nonetheless, the mood soon soured as Gail experienced significant negative press for her performance. “What I found interesting was it started with just one newspaper, the Observer,” she states. “That was the Sunday before the broadcast and then it happened incredibly quickly.”

The Observer article picked up on negative comments online about Corpus and Gail in the early rounds. “She comes across as patronising and with a healthy sense of her own intellectual superiority. These characteristics are common in establishments such as hers” one read. Others focussed on her appearance and “tastiness.” It was trolling, before trolling was fashionable.

What followed was a week of self-perpetuating bad press and abuse online about “the human Google.” She made the front page of the Daily Mail with the story “Why do so many people hate this girl simply for being clever?” Incidentally that “girl” was twenty six, had just got engaged and found “being treated like a child” pretty patronising.

Infamously, her brother was contacted by Nuts magazine hoping to be put in touch with Gail for a tasteful photo-shoot. His reply, as the Guardian reported: “Seriously mate, would you give your sister’s contact details to Nuts?”

“A man would have been treated like a child too,” Gail continues. The media “asked me lots of questions like ‘How do I feel about being a clever woman?’ It was a circular thing really.”

It was “interesting for us who live in an Oxford world, where knowing a lot is perfectly fine and there’s no need to get hang-ups or apologise for it. I’ve learnt something from that reaction.”

In a final twist, the Corpus team were disqualified some months later for a minor infringement of the eligibility rules — a team member had started a job before the series had completed filming.

Despite the trying experience, Gail tells me, “Of course I would recommend it. Those second thoughts are only with hindsight. Most people don’t end up being pestered by the media in a really peculiar way!”

Finally, I ask about the training regime, the hours of memorising flags and dates I assumed were necessary before a show. “There was no time,” she laughs. “We didn’t go around learning things, we just happened to have good memories. That’s what was entertaining.”

David Cameron’s comments, this October, over Facebook’s decision to allow graphic videos on its site – in particular, one depicting the decapitation of a woman, thought to be in Mexico – have added fuel to the debate on internet censorship. In an article in the New Statesman, Laurie Penny succinctly skewered Cameron’s choice of words: that Facebook “must explain their actions to worried parents”. As Penny points out, it is the victims of violence that our primary concern should lie with, and hiding crime to soothe fretting parents does nothing to protect these real victims. “Somewhere out there a woman in a pink top may be lying dead. That her corpse can no longer frighten children on the internet will not comfort her family – and it should not comfort us”. The brand of censorship suggested by Cameron’s phrasing is, indeed, one that we should ward against – censorship as closing our eyes to reality, of choosing the privilege to forget.

Does this then mean that the instinct to censor is entirely misguided? Penny is right that if people are horrified and disturbed by a beheading video, that is surely the only natural reaction, and not one that ought to be apologised for. Yet part of the danger of uncensored, unlimited viewing is that it encourages not horror but apathy – an image loses its power to shock, once it has become interweaved into the fabric of our everyday lives. Many of us have left the room for our tea break during a TV appeal for African poverty, or thrown a leaflet on the fate of refugees onto the same recycling pile as the pizza adverts that it came with. In so doing we are not trying to be callous. But it is impossible and exhausting to maintain an emotional engagement with such extremities during every minute of every day – to do so would leave us unable to function. This is why format is so important.

Just as many of the unsanitised images of pain brought to our attention by charity appeals have now become ubiquitous and, thus, no longer shocking, so too may the kind of graphic violence witnessed in the Facebook beheading. It is disconcerting how quickly an internet search can yield promises of terrifying degradation. In just 0.36 seconds (according to Google) I can watch “various masked men assault a man with a bat and electric stungun”, “two partners […] castrated and beheaded” – all part of the proliferation of Mexican cartel (“narco-killings”) videos. Nor have I had to do the pervert’s handshake and enter some shady corner of the web for this – this site is the first result, right below the smiling colours of the Google logo.

It is part of learning about the world around us that we must confront disturbing images. We have all visited exhibitions on the Holocaust, sat through documentaries on trafficking and prostitution. But when we visit a museum or sit down to a serious programme, we are agreeing to approach its material with a particular mindset – to take the time to think seriously about something, its context, its ramifications, and to try and understand all those involved; to meet them halfway, in a sense. The internet often requires no such effort on our part. We do not need to allocate a time to mentally commit in this way, but are all too easily washed through a stream of links. We can end up viewing terrible things out of nothing but morbid curiosity, because it is there – easily and cheaply offered to us, to tempt our disbelief. If what we see troubles us enough to disrupt our day, we can at least take comfort in the fact that we have not lost our sense of wrongness. But the more exposed we are, the more desensitised we will become.

The act of censoring the internet may be impossible. We can only penalise higher profile sites, like Facebook and Twitter, while content will continue to flourish elsewhere. But large, mainstream companies of Facebook’s kind arguably do still have a responsibility, if not in censoring violent material entirely, then in framing it or controlling its access in such a way that viewing it must be a thoughtful and responsible decision on our part. It is unacceptable to have a world in which the extreme suffering of some becomes the mere viewing fodder of others, abandoned as soon as day-to-day distractions call. When it is also easy to sleep with eyes open, we must defend our capacity to be horrified. 

Last Sunday, an article written by Leo Mercer published on the Cherwell website described how the new Sunday Assembly or “atheist church” is no contradiction and turns out to be a way of revitalising the atheist movement to become an inclusive community of those who want to celebrate “what it means to be human” through literature, music, scientific discovery and a dash of comedy.

Then comes the president of OICCU (Oxford Intercollegiate Christian Union) along with an article which essentially says “Atheism is stupid, nerrrr”.

So here’s a blow by blow of what he said and what I have in response.

A new atheist church in Oxford? Praise God! Who wouldn’t want a movement that’s committed to making a positive impact in our community?

We’re guessing Josh Peppiatt?

It’s wonderful to hear of the Sunday Assembly’s desire to be ‘a place of love that is open and accepting’. Leo Mercer argued last week in these pages that the Sunday Assembly ‘offered those things that religion provides, though without dogmas or liturgy’. He mentioned some of those things that the Sunday Assembly seeks to emulate: ‘community, a place in which to reflect, a sense of purpose, and so on.’

Wow Peppiatt, you’re really selling this to me – where can we sign up? We’re guessing that by “emulating” you mean doing right?

And yet I wonder:

Oh right, that was just a set up for why this is a bad idea. Damn you, Peppiatt!

Are the wonderful aims and desires of the Sunday Assembly really compatible with its self-conscious atheism?

Our atheism is SO self-conscious. It thinks it’s overweight and keeps comparing itself to unrealistic irreligious types presented in the media like Dawkins and Hitchens and Fry (phwoar).

Community and purpose aren’t ideals that Christians have happened upon, disconnected from what it is we believe; rather they flow from our understanding of the world – the ‘dogmas’ the Sunday assembly wants to do without. The two are inseparable.

Whoooa, hold on there, sailor! We know the Bible is big on community and purpose (Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 4:9-12. A brilliant message slightly spoiled towards the end) but to say that the two are inseparable? We’re pretty sure the pre-Jesus Jews were pretty community based and had purpose as did the ancient Egyptians or Hindus and pretty much everyone, ever.

Actually, come to mention it, we’ve got a sense of community and purpose. People are fucking lovely and we’ve got purpose falling out of our ears. In fact, we’d go one further and say that humans don’t even have a copyright on “community and purpose”, let alone Christians. Have you ever watched ants? They’re always together striding around with great purpose. If anything they need to chill down and get some ‘me’ time. Then there’s the whole “community is important guys, but remember to fuck up anyone who the man up top doesn’t like!” thing. For more read 1 Samuel 15:3!

I’m not surprised by the Sunday Assembly’s desire to build inclusive communities. The urge to gather in community is common to all humanity.

Wow, we must have been retroactively convincing there. Far from Christianity and community being inseparable, all of humanity gets the social urge now.

But can an organisation that states ‘we come from nothing and go to nothing’ really have any basis for affirming that we should ‘live better, help often, wonder more’?

Yes. We will respond to this point properly when you make one. Enclose an SAE.

By contrast the Christian understanding of humanity being made equally in the image of God was the bedrock of the human rights we all cherish.

While “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus,” totally rocks our socks, we can’t help but think that it’s not entirely sincere. A book that says that slaves are equal to owners but doesn’t make that little extra effort to suggest getting rid of the barbaric notion of person-ownership is setting itself up for a fall. But of course we mustn’t forget the more explicitly unequitable:

• “ ‘Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, idle bellies’. He has surely told the truth”
• “Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.”
• “An Ammonite or Moabite shall not enter into the congregation of the LORD; even to their tenth generation shall they not enter into the congregation of the LORD for ever;”
• “Happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us – he who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.”
• “Slaves, submit yourselves to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the cruel.”

Yeah, that’s a much better bedrock than JS Mill.

Couple that with the Christian understanding of us as flawed, yet unconditionally loved by God, and you have a strong basis to treat others respectfully and lovingly despite inevitably being let down and letting others down.

At the heart of atheism lies science and the scientific method, and at the heart of science is the ‘understanding of us as flawed’. We’re all fucked up. Humans have blind spots because our eyes are wired wrong, most of us can’t rub our tummies and pat our heads, Justin Bieber has sold 15 million albums. You don’t need to tell us that we’re all messed up in our own special ways.

The being loved by God thing is a bit rich when the only reason you suggest people should be nice to other is because He’s threatening everyone with eternal torture or offering them an utterly selfish way out of the real world as reward, rather than everyone genuinely wanting to help their fellow person to live a better life.

Of course, in practice atheists are often more loving and generous than Christians – but in principle, with an atheistic understanding of the world, there’s no basis for affirming love instead of hate, or helping instead of hindering.

Evidence: “atheists are often more living and generous than Christians”

Claim: “there’s no basis for affirming love instead of hate, or helping instead of hindering”

Nice. You know, maybe you’re wrong, maybe we have actually worked out a basis for affirming love. Maybe it was one of the philosophers. Maybe it was a Romantic poet? Maybe it was Greg Wallace?

You know what, it seems that we don’t even need a well thought out basis for all those things because we seem to be doing preeeeeeetty well without one. There’s likely a hell of a lot more love in the world now than 1000 years ago and it’d be surprising if the number of atheists back then was higher than it is now. It’s pretty bloody bold to claim that those who don’t believe in the Christian god are without any basis for moral behaviour, when that’s just clearly nonsense.

I fear that in their search for loving community, the Sunday Assembly have mistaken the trimmings for the Sunday roast: I’m not connected with this stranger sitting next to me because I’m singing a Disney song with them,

Hey Josh, let’s not say something we’re going to regret here. Are you saying that singing Disney songs doesn’t bring people together? What about Jordan and Peter Andre’s “A Whole New World”?

but because we both know that through Jesus we have been made right with God and are now in his family together.

That’s definitely why people feel community in Church. Cos of Jesus. You know, Harry went to church for a number of years as an atheist and he felt a greater sense of community with the good people of St Martin’s Laugharne than he did in the years before. Peter spent most of the time in church as a kid colouring (still his favourite past-time) and wasn’t too taken in by the God thing, but he did love a good harvest festival.

The same goes for meaning and purpose. Jesus says that we are to love God with all we are and have, and to love our neighbour as ourselves.

But with all my God-lovin’ how are we going to love our neighbour? Aaaaaaagh.

And he provides powerful motivation for those who seek to live out this generous teaching by setting us the ultimate example: loving us so much that he died for us.

Wow, how fucking generous of you Jesus for telling us to love one another. We hope we didn’t put you out of your way to get here?

And how is Jesus dying for us a “motivation”, exactly? It’s definitely an example of (misplaced) selflessness but I wouldn’t say it’s a motivation. Are people thinking “ooo if only I love my neighbour more maybe one day I’ll get the ‘Lover of the Month’ and end up on the big shiny cross”? And what about the fact that even though the guy supposedly dies for our sins but we’re also supposedly still in the shit with the big man and might get “ACCESS DENIED” at the pearly gates? Bit of a waste.

But if we ‘don’t do God’ then can there be ultimate meaning?

TELL US, JOSH, TELL US!

Sartre seemed to recognise this tension in Existentialism and Human Emotions: ‘If I’ve discarded God the Father, there has to be someone to invent values. [You’ve got to take things as they are. Moreover to say that we invent values means nothing else but this:] life has no meaning a priori. Before you come alive, life is nothing; it’s up to you to give it meaning, and value is nothing else but the meaning you choose.’ [In that way, you see, there is a possibility of creating a human community…].

We’ve helped Josh out a bit here and included the rest of the quote in the closed brackets. Clearly he was pushed on the word count and didn’t get the chance to include Sartre’s conclusion: that we CAN create our own values. We wouldn’t even agree with Sartre to say that our created values are entirely arbitrary – We (and many others) believe there is some robust set of morals that we can derive without needing a man in the sky. But that’s just us (it’s not).

Can we honestly feel the depth of this predicament and yet continue to celebrate life with integrity?

So Josh is saying that if we celebrate life, and don’t believe in the Christian god, that we need to feel guilty. That the ‘predicament’, being the lack of any reason to assume some inherited morality from a mystical sky wizard, is even something we should be worried about more than any other philosophical question. Sure, it’s certainly a good thing to make sure we get it right, but why on earth should we feel guilty for wanting to find out those answers properly rather than take your word for it that you’ve got it all wrapped up nicely in a book.

I wish the Sunday Assembly every success as it seeks to impact our city for the best.

You sure gave that impression.

And yet the question remains: can the reality of an atheistic worldview sustain the goals the Sunday Assembly longs for?

No… yes…shit. Your rhetorical questions are confusing!  Also, atheism isn’t a worldview, although you probably know that seen as you’re the president of the Christian Society.

Could it be that the Christian understanding of the nature of reality and the human condition is actually the only basis for living better, finding purpose and building community, ideals that are the centre of what it means to be human?

You know what, everything else you’ve said up to this point has been fine by me. We don’t particularly care too much. But what you’re saying here is that everyone other than Christians, All 6 billlion of them, ALL OF THEM, are completely incapable of living better, finding purpose and building communities. Now you just offend me. We’re not just saying this on behalf of atheists but on behalf of Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, Sikhs, Humanists, Shintoists, Bahá’í, Zoroastrians, Jains and even, God help me, the Scientologists.

Are you suggesting that all of these people have been going along without the ideals at the centre of what it means to be human? That’s quite a claim. We hope you’re willing to receive 6 billion angry letters from these sub-humans demanding to know why you didn’t tell them sooner that they don’t have an understanding of the human condition.

In other words, Josh, you’re making Christians come across as arrogant. You claim dibs on a bunch of ideas that predate religion and suggest that non-Christians are not moral. That they cannot celebrate life, that they cannot feel the need to help their fellow human. I’ll admit that the The Sunday Assembly does sound a little odd, but it does nothing other than to try to bring people together as a community, to recognise the wonderful things in life and to provide a way of doing all of those things without all the unpleasant add-ons or the arrogance to suggest they’re the only ones who have got it right.

But all is not lost for Mr Peppiatt. On behalf of all those people above we ask for an apology. An apology for the suggestion that every other group of the world is failing as a human by not following the principles of the Bible. And in return, we’ll follow Matthew 18:21

“How many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times”