Wednesday, April 30, 2025
Blog Page 179

Oxford named second-most ‘radical progressive’ university in the UK

0

A right-leaning think tank has described Oxford as the second-most “radical progressive” university in the UK, following Cambridge.

However, a Cherwell poll of around 200 students suggests that Oxford students disagree with this – 42% of respondents voted that the students in Oxford are not progressive enough and 51% voted that the teaching staff are not progressive enough. 

The college voted most ‘woke’ by a large majority was Wadham, receiving 33 votes out of 50.

Civitas, a think tank described as right-wing by the Guardian, published their Radical Progressive University Guide as part of a series on new academic realism. According to their findings, the “best and most prestigious” universities tend to be the most progressive, exemplified by Cambridge and Oxford who, respectively, topped the rankings. 

Their results are based on universities’ endorsement of “trigger warnings, white privilege, and anti-racism” along with other factors, such as free speech controversies. Universities which have definitions of ‘white privilege’ on their website, or conduct anti-racism training are considered to be more radically progressive. 

Civitas allege that this newfound ‘hyper-morality’ stems from the “mutation and splicing of past radicalism that include Marxism, postmodernism, feminism, Freudianism, and Maoism”. 

However, Oxford students are seemingly not in agreement with these findings. According to a Cherwell study, only 18% of respondents believed that Oxford students are too progressive. 40% voted that the students were “just the right amount” of progressive, and 42% voted that they are not progressive enough. 

The results for teaching staff are similar, yet more pronounced – only 12% thought that teaching staff was too progressive. 37% considered them to be the right amount of progressive and 51% of respondents voted that Oxford teaching staff are not progressive enough. 

When asked for thoughts, one student said that Oxford is “probably too woke in the sense of language policing / perspective exclusion but not woke enough in terms of keeping out and holding accountable people who do actual harm”.

Another said: “New [C]ollege isn’t accessible enough to have problems relating to class or race”. 

On Russian History

0

In his new book The Story of Russia, Orlando Figes narrates an account of Russian history which at its zenith demonstrates the way in which historiographical debate about its own past is central to Russia’s political and cultural identity. Set against the backdrop of the ongoing Ukrainian War, Figes’ book is an easy and thought-provoking read offering stimulation without demanding high academic retention. Well-known for his Liberal historiographical standpoint, Figes identifies tension to be at the heart of Russia’s complex history. Indeed, the idea of a ‘story’ is central to his argument for what Russian history bequeaths: a tale of tension between reactionaries and modernisers; conservatives and liberals. And yet, for Figes, all this stuffy intellectual debate overlooks the idea that Russia has a profound history of missed opportunities.

Beginning with the establishment of Kiev in the ninth century, Figes demonstrates that the early   history of Russia was beset with invasion and resettlement – at first by the Vikings, and then the Mongols. Indeed, part of Figes’ point is to show that the primordial vision of the Kievian Rus is a myth, and one that has potent appeal to those who seek to establish a narrative of  Great Russia and a Pan-Slavic identity. Pan-Slavism does play a significant role in Russian cultural history, but in reading this one feels that Figes wants to shift focus away from a  view  of Russian past as  bound up with Orthodox Christianity and cultural isolationism, and instead offer a ‘normal’ account of a ‘normal’ state experiencing an emergence into modernity. Yet, in reading this, there is a moment when it becomes apparent that this is an impossible task simply because Russia is exceptional on most accounts. 

Russia’s story is further complicated by the unique role played by the Orthodox Church. Downplayed by Figes as a factor in Russia’s historical development, it may be the one weakness of his general argument. For if religion was not a crucial factor in Russia’s story, then the subsequent tension, the rise of Tsarism and its autocratic political structures, cannot be readerly explained. Indeed, one of the main claims of the book – namely the modernising force of Peter the Great, and the backlash against his regime – can surely only be understood with reference to the role played by religion in generating the necessity of an autocratic style of governance.

In the latter half of the book, attention is turned to the causes and consequences of 1917. This may be a curious remark to make, but there is a sense that for Figes, outcome of the Revolution, the emergence of the Soviet Union, and the current structure of Russian politics all stem from the failure of the political reforms of the nineteenth century. Indeed, there is a sense when reading it that the period from 1850 until 1925 should have consisted of one chapter in lieu of the lack of substantial political reforms, apart from the weak Duma experiment of the early twentieth Century.  That the current regime in Moscow is a product of missed opportunities for political reform in the nineteenth century is not the point. Moreover, it was the inertia within the nineteenth century slogan:  ‘Autocracy Orthodoxy and Nationalism’ which enshrined a sense of conservatism within the political and cultural identity of  Russia, a legacy which is still present today.

At the centre of this book is a claim about history, or rather about what history can become. For Figes, again, the nineteenth century proves a significant moment as the development of Pan-Slavism was  based on a particular vision of Russia and its cultural identity.  In a long and nuanced conclusion, he suggests that this myth-making process is central to Putin’s current political project. It is not that Putin is the new Stalin, or that we are entering a new era of autocratic leadership, but that the current leadership is living day-to-day on a historic myth, and they know it is a myth.

The concern with history as a way of understanding the past purveys much of this book. The Story of Russia is not so much a grand narrative of Russian history as it is an examination of the conjectural nature of that history itself. Taking it right up to the aftermath of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Figes not only shows the precise diplomatic context in which the invasion took place, but also shows how such an act stemmed from the wholesale acceptance of the Kievian Rus historiographic reading of Russian history, coupled with an embrace of a fictional account of what actually occurred.  In this sense, Putin is seen as updating the Pan-Slavic view of what Russian history is, albeit with Peter the Great as a ‘Great Russian’ hero. Yet for Figes, along with Putin’s misreading of Ukraine, this is a fabrication based on a nineteenth Century misreading of Russian history. Putin’s own understanding of Russian history is in effect a modern twenty-first century European populist one which takes its cue not from the Slavic culture of Great Russia, but from the national-populist chauvinism of the European conservative right. Setting Russian history straight is a vital task, and this is what Orlando Figes precisely does.

Union votes against “sacramental sodomy” speaker in controversial gay marriage debate

0

The Oxford Union debated the question of gay marriage in the Church this Thursday, with Anglican bishops, Christian theologians, and students taking part. In an otherwise balanced debate, two speakers’ views stood out as “very bigoted”, according to some members. The debate also featured an impromptu floor speech in favour of gay marriage from the visiting former Health Secretary Matt Hancock.

Significant online controversy surrounded the announcement of this debate motion, which Union President Charlie Mackintosh addressed, reminding attendees that a purpose of debate was to offer freedom of speech to all religious. With this in mind, Mackintosh told the chamber he was “baffled” that anyone could contest the running of the motion.

Speakers from the opposition nonetheless caused controversy, with Dr Ian Paul comparing pro-LGBTQ+ rulings from secular authorities to the control of religion in “Nazi Germany or the Soviet Union”. However, a member from New College told Cherwell that he was “disgusted” with this argument.

Dr Paul went on to argue against a “new colonialism”, speaking against the growing number of liberal representatives in Western churches who have urged religious communities in former colonies to widen inclusivity for all sexualities in marriage. Another member attending the debate told Cherwell that some of the views expressed “unbelievably bigoted” and the opposition was “intolerant” of the LGBTQ+ community.

On the other side of the debate, speaking in proposition of the motion, the Bishop of Buckingham urged all to support same-sex marriage in the Church, claiming that “God is love”. 

The second Anglican bishop to speak was in agreement with this, telling the chamber, “Sisters and brothers tonight choose mercy, choose love, choose life”.

Matt Hancock MP, who was present at the Union, said he felt moved to speak on the motion during floor speeches. He told the chamber: “If we don’t provide leadership in what is right, what is debating for?” Despite an at-times awkward address on PPE contracts and lockdown guidelines earlier in the day, Hancock spoke strongly in favour of universal gay marriage.

The debate shifted tone again with the next opposition speech. Calvin Robinson, Deacon of the Free Church of England, stressed that it is “the sin that is the problem, not the sinner”. Robinson’s real qualm is with those in the Church who promote gay marriage, as they do not have “the authority to bless sin”. In response to those advancing same-sex marriage in the Church, Robisnon stated that he heard “the Devil at work”. If passed, this change would amount to “sacremental sodomy”.

At the end of the debate the members voted overwhelmingly to accept this motion by a margin of 186-41.

Matt Hancock warns of “next pandemic” at Union address

0

The former Health Secretary Matt Hancock warned of the “next pandemic” in an address at the Oxford Union this afternoon. Voicing his concerns about the spread of new viruses such as bird flu, he took questions from the student body on decisions made in during COVID-19 and his views on healthcare going forward.

In a packed chamber, Hancock claimed that investment in new technology is key to reversing the current crisis in the NHS. When asked by members how he expects this to be funded amid national cost-of-living concerns and workers’ strikes for higher wages, he argued that initial expenditure on scientific advancement would ultimately enable the most cost-effective advances.

Hancock appeared well-informed of current problems in the NHS, admitting “people go in for test after test, but all the information isn’t connected by technology.” He said this is one of his main reasons for backing an overhaul of NHS computer systems as a way of counteracting “hours of wasted time.”

“There’s going to be another pandemic,” Hancock told Cherwell News after the event, expressing his sincere concern that the country isn’t prepared for new diseases. However, when asked if he thinks the current government is equipped to handle any such challenges, he said budgetary cuts would be a problem.

In terms of post-pandemic difficulties facing the social care sector, which has a knock on effect with “bed-blocking” in hospitals, Hancock said he was against care being nationalised. However, he stated, “the system needs a rethink” and called the NHS itself “enormously valuable national asset”. He also disclosed that he does not use private healthcare in quick fire questions with Union President Charlie Mackintosh.

In the main address, Hancock’s management of PPE contracts during the pandemic was also challenged. While he said “the UK never actually ran out of PPE”, it was established that the government’s approach of “throwing everything at deals” had led to uneven distribution of vital medial equipment across the country. Hancock denied that the Tory donor status of many parties to PPE contracts had ever been a consideration for him, but described the Track and Trace app, his department’s other key project, as a “total fiasco”.

On social distancing guidelines, Hancock told the Union that he followed them “assiduously” until the beginning of his affair with Gina Coladangelo. When members asked how he could justify breaking COVID rules, Hancock replied “it is what it is”, before adding “I let myself down” and that he could only be upfront about it. A student then mentioned cases where members of the public were unable to comfort grieving relatives at funerals during lockdown and was met with applause. Hancock replied that the rules had been interpreted “more firmly on the ground than we intended”, but encouraged the younger generation not to become disillusioned about politics.

Speaking about his recent appearance I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here, Hancock believes the chance to be on reality TV enabled him to show more of his personality. He called it a “totally bonkers experience” and an “irony” that he felt freer to express his feelings to the British public from Australian than in the UK. This leads into what Cherwell News understands will be next for Hancock.

After stepping down as an MP, the former minister hopes to go into “politics outside parliament” by using his new social media following and documentaries to provide information on significant issues, starting with dyslexia among the prison population.

Recalling his time at Oxford University, Hancock told the Union, “I relied on everything I learnt here while making decisions during the pandemic”. He said he was also a strong advocate for “Oxford” appearing in the name of the Oxford AstraZeneca vaccine.

“It’s a Tory finishing school”: university staff speak out against Oxford on strike day

0

Oxford University teaching staff took to the streets today, to protest against “shameful” working conditions in the first of many UCU strikes planned for the coming weeks. In a march through the town centre, many of Oxford’s lecturers, administrators, and security staff were joined by teachers from Oxford Brookes University, local schools, and rail workers, as part of the biggest strike action seen in the UK for over a decade.

One lecturer addressing the protest outside the Bodleian Libraries said, “we don’t get paid for the full time it takes to do the job”, claiming that lecture preparation and the time needed to mark students’ work is often “effectively unpaid”. For every one-hour lecture given, he stated that only an extra half-hour’s pay is received for preparation in the majority of cases, which “is simply not enough time to prepare teaching materials of the calibre expected at Oxford University”. 

Attesting to this, a lecturer on strike from the Department of Anthropolgy told Cherwell that she often works “late into the evening and at weekends” for no extra pay, in order to meaningfully mark student assignments. She added that this compromises her ability to carry out the personal research which Oxford academics are also expected to undertake.

Support for strike action is widespread in the Department of Anthropology, as a result of high UCU membership and “personal motivation”. Another Anthropology lecturer told Cherwell they were striking in solidarity with those on the lowest salaries, such as department administrators and teacher’s on temporary contracts. “It’s incredibly difficult for young people coming into education to reach a permanent teaching position” she explained, giving the example of two Mst. Creative Writing lecturers who are currently suing the university over “gig economy contracts”. A third lecturer at the protest added that “the commodification of education is getting worse every year”. 

Gerard Ward, an associate lecturer in Law at Oxford Brookes University, believes that this ongoing decline in working conditions has occurred in parallel with the “rinsing of the student loan system” by universities. Despite increases in undergraduate tuition fees and accommodation costs, Ward told Cherwell that the money often hasn’t been directed in the right ways, with funding being poured into “prestigious research projects” as opposed to workers’ salaries. Like those at Oxford University, Ward said many members of teaching staff at Brookes have precarious short-term contracts, adding that, alongside the decline in working conditions,  “general insecurity of staff employment is ultimately not good for students.” Having worked at three educational institutions across England in the last decade, Ward says that conditions “worsened noticeably” under a succession of Conserative governments.

John Wadesdon, a member of security staff at the Bodleian Libraries, said it was important that strikes are taking place here in Oxford. “It’s a Tory finishing school,” he told Cherwell, saying that the government officials who he believes are responsible for the deterioration of university administration “all came here and were taught corruption”.

Primary school teachers from around Oxford also took part in the mega-strike, in coordination with mass action by the National Education Union, accompanied by some parents. Local resident Mr Gomez, whose six-year-old daughter was unable to attend school because of the strike, told Cherwell: “our children are the future of society, and their teachers need decent pay”, adding that he completely supported the union’s action.

Oxford remains one of the most expensive cities in Europe to live in, with another speaker at the protest calling it “shameful” that teaching staff on “most likely illegal” contracts are struggling to find affordable housing despite being employed by such a prestigious university.

Along with strikes by rail workers, nurses, and teachers, UCU strikes are set to continue throughout February and March.

Broken Jumbotrons and Blurred Lines: Victor Wembanyama’s Roanne Rematch

0

PARIS, France – Before Christmas, Metropolitans 92 had suffered a 102-77 away loss versus Chorale Roanne Basket. And, before last year was out, they had lost twice more at the hands of AC Monaco and Strasbourg. On the 13th of December, they signed former NBA player Justin James and, in the New Year, the team had regained composure, winning three straight, including two on the road. Last Friday, 27th of January, Roanne arrived at the Palais Marcel Cerdan for a rematch.

This Week in Wemby Watch: more skills continue to appear in Victor Wembyanyama’s repertoire as the season progresses. In the second quarter, Victor finds himself double marked, he goes up for a three and finds Bandja Sy with a pass instead. In the third quarter, he does the same again: he drives into the paint, gets held up and finds Sy with a shot fake pass. Victor’s incredible 8-foot wingspan makes him almost always available for high and wide passes and early in the third quarter, he gets a pass with his right arm out wide as he is in the left of the paint. Victor turns and shoots, but airballs to the right. A timeout is called. The game restarts and the crowd is chanting: “MET-RO”. Wemby is marked but he holds his hand high for a pass. The pass comes to him far too low and it is swatted away by a jumping Stefan Moody on defense. Stefan is 5’10”. 

Wemby gets the ball in a switch from Bandja Sy outside the arc. He drives and goes for a one-armed, one-legged jumpshot but overshoots it and comes crashing to the court; 52-69 to Roanne. Sy later dribbles, slips and also hits the floor. He decides to hook the ball blindly into the crowd from the ground. No one is sure why. Still 52-69.

The tricolour prodigy sinks a three in the third quarter and then proceeds to put on a clinic. Soon comes another incredible three: he’s on the left corner outside the arc, gets a primed pass from Jones and scores a beautiful floater. The mascot Buzzy the Bee strides across the stands. He follows it up by blocking former NCAA star Silvio De Sousa immediately after. Victor claims a rebound and takes it to the other end, switches with Jones who slips a pass back to him as he is inside the arc. He drives, shoots, it’s bouncing out but Wemby tips it back in. Score: Metro – 60; Roanne – 72 (Wemby – 29). 

Now, the screen in the centre of the court at the Palais Marcel Cerdan, even at the best of times, isn’t great. It’s a small stadium, it’s not exactly a jumbotron. I’ve watched though as, over the course of this season, animations have been added with each of the Metropolitans players; for example, a video of Victor with the caption “CONTRE” to celebrate a block. Right now, the large screen has gone out. There are small scoreboards around the Palais that show 44.7 seconds to go in the quarter. 35 seconds to go and Victor blocks. He gets the ball on the other end and decides to take a three. Pulling it outside the arc. He misses but then the young gun Coulibaly ascends for a monster put back. The Palais erupts. Wemby goes “ohhh”. There is something to be said for the lack of screen, as we are all forced to concentrate. 

Wemby is posterised by Roanne’s no. 7 Ross who hammers it down. The score is 68-76 Roanne —at this point an unassailable lead, but not quite a blowout. The current of Wemby’s thought is visible in his play on the other end: he is fired up. He takes the ball behind his back with his right arm but misses when he goes up. Once again, 7:18 to go and he gets a shot off but it rattles in the rim and out.

A bounce pass from Wemby to James who draws the foul and gets the layup, the ball rolling twice around the rim. 72-88 to Roanne. Another One Bites the Dust plays after James has missed the free, a bizarre song choice that makes it seem like the Metropolitans DJ is heckling his own team. There has been a series of questionable song choices tonight: Party Up by DMX played earlier in a timeout, including the fairly explicit verse, a poor decision that is exacerbated by the fact that the North Stand is majority primary school children; later, we received a cover rendition of “Islands in the Stream”; then, after Wemby has fouled De Sousa in the paint, THEY PLAY BLURRED LINES.

Wemby absolutely hammers it down in a face-saving showcase of skill. He’s got 31 points. Somebody’s Watching Me plays. Metro’s win streak is ended and Roanne have started one of their own. Wembanyama completes the game with 31 PTS 14 REB 2 AST 5 BLK and 1 STL.  A double-double with healthy figures in three other categories, it’s what we expect by now and that’s what’s remarkable. I catch him as he walks directly to the changing room, his head’s down, but at 7-foot-3-inches, it’s still held high. 

Image: Eoin Hanlon

The Mankad, sporting etiquette and the so-called “Spirit of Cricket”

0

Culture wars are fought over social issues, where polarized groups compete for the acceptance of their respective belief systems. Debates over the idiosyncrasies of cricket don’t often fit this definition. Yet, the U19s Women’s Cricket World Cup fixture between Pakistan and Rwanda has seemingly done it.

On the 15th January, the Pakistan bowler Zaib-un-Nisa dismissed the Rwandan batter Shakila Niyomuhoza by a run out at the non-striker’s end, commonly known as a ‘Mankad’. According to the game’s lawmakers, the Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC), the run out was legal: “If the non-striker is out of his/her ground at any time from the moment the ball comes into play until the instant when the bowler would normally have been expected to release the ball, the non-striker is liable to be run out.”

The rule is in place to ensure that non-striking batters don’t receive an unfair advantage by leaving their crease before the ball has been bowled. However, what followed has been a polarized social media examination into the sporting merits of Zaib-un-Nisa’s decision to enact this form of dismissal.

So, if the dismissal is legal, why all the controversy?

Historically, the sport has followed a form of ‘etiquette’, coined by the London-based MCC, as the ‘Spirit of Cricket’. This is the expectation that players will follow certain traditions and forms of behaviour when playing cricket. The ‘etiquette’ for the ‘Mankad’ is for the bowler to hold the ball over the stumps, warning the non-striking batter of their intention to enact the dismissal the next time around. Still, even with this warning, many consider it to be an ‘ugly’ dismissal.

Stuart Broad, fast bowler for the England men’s test team, has stated how he believes the ‘Mankad’ to be ‘unfair’ and that it ‘requires zero skill.’ While England’s One-Day International captain, Jos Butler, says that he would ‘call the batsman back’ if a teammate used the ‘Mankad’, as ‘no one wants to see it’ in the game.

Yet, with all the eccentric rules that cricket has (watch the 2019 Men’s Cricket World Cup final to learn a few), who decides which are ‘sporting’? Who judges whether something is skillful or not? And who polices this ‘Spirit of Cricket’?

While the level of skill required is up for debate, it doesn’t explain the centrality of ‘sportsmanship’ in this conversation. Harsha Bhogle, Indian cricket commentator and journalist, believes that there are colonial undertones in the cricketing world’s moral reflections on the ‘Mankad’: “The English thought it was wrong to do so (the Mankad) and because they ruled over a large part of the cricket world, they told everyone it was wrong. The colonial domination was so powerful that few questioned it.”

This suggests a continuation of an imperial mindset, where the ex-colonisers still have the moral authority to decide the values and beliefs in the global cricketing community. An argument particularly pertinent when considering how cricket was used as part of the British empire’s ‘civilising mission’.

Anthony Bateman, an honorary visiting research fellow at the De Montfort University, wrote in his book Cricket, Literature and Culture: “Not only was cricket coming to represent what were believed to be the ‘higher’, ‘civilised’ values of the coloniser over the colonised, but its discourses endowed it with the ability to transform the colonised into English gentlemen.”

Intriguingly, the first ‘Mankad’ was enacted by Indian cricketer Mulvantrai Himmatlal Mankad in a test match against Australia, only a few months after the Partition of India in 1947. It’s difficult to argue with certainty that Mankad’s use of this dismissal was consciously part of a wider rejection of British ‘civil’ values from Indian life. Or, to an even greater degree of uncertainty, that the use of the ‘Mankad’ today is an act of agency against lingering colonial power structures in cricket.

However, the polarity in conversations over something as mundane as a cricketing dismissal should force some reflections on the origins of these ‘sporting morals’ and whether they are still applicable today.

Image Credit: CC2:0//Getty Images/David Munden.

Meat and Potato: Why You Should Want Other People to Eat Less Meat.

0

For a long time, I was one of those people who thought that being vegetarian was the right thing to do, but couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. I recognised that the environmental impact of meat was bad, and probably disproportionate, I felt uneasy with the idea of killing animals, and I had the vague sense that eating another animal was wrong, but I liked meat so much that I pushed it from my mind.

Before you think you’re in for a lecture, don’t worry. I am not about to try and badger you into giving up meat. I have tried every argument I can muster to persuade my girlfriend, who I live with, not to eat meat, and to no avail. If I can’t persuade the person I probably know best, what chance have I with you, a complete stranger?

Instead, I am going to make a different case to you. Regardless of whether you eat meat, you should want other people not to.

Meat consumption has both positives and negatives, and your decision on whether to eat them will balance this. On the one hand, almost everyone can acknowledge that meat is not great for the environment, it requires a lot of resources, kills animals, whose lives we can agree attract some value. On the other hand, meat is nice, eating it is fun, and it is an important part of many food cultures and cuisines[1].

There are both positives and negatives to eating meat, but crucially, the positives all accrue to us as individuals, whilst the negatives are mostly societal. The downsides then, are known in Economics as ‘externalities,’ because they don’t just impact me and the people who I buy meat from, they also impact other people who are ‘external’ to the transaction. As a result, it makes sense for even the most ardent of meat-eaters to want meat for themselves, but veg for everyone else.

So how can we encourage other people to eat less meat?

If you like meat a lot and there are lots of people who are more lukewarm, small incentives against meat-eating won’t affect you much. They may, however, change the behaviour of other people.

For example, colleges could make some small changes. They could charge a different amount for meat and vegetarian meals [we would need to check whether this is actually the case at all colleges]. The fact that the charge is the same is, to be frank, slightly baffling; surely a vegetarian meal costs less? Rather, in an example of how prices in Oxford often owe more to tradition than supply and demand (a discussion for a different column), the prices are almost certainly determined by the (majority) meat-based meals.

Where colleges provide vegetarian ‘cards’, they should also switch the default, handing out ‘meat’ cards instead. This would make handling a price differential logistically easier, but also make a vegetarian meal seem less like a bizarre lifestyle decision, like consuming only fruit juice or being a member of the Socialist Workers’ Party. Furthermore, it would reduce the possibility that a vegetarian might absent-mindedly forget to collect a card and begin eating a meat-based meal[2].

All these suggestions aim to reduce people’s marginal consumption of meat, not to drive them into vegetarianism. However, for the odd meal, which people were almost undecided on anyway, it might persuade people to take the veggie option.

Now, if you are a meat-eater, you would be slightly worse off; after all, you would have to pay more for your meals. But the difference we are talking about is trivial and could be implemented mostly by lowering the price of vegetarian meals[3]. Such a change would be enough to make people think a little more about the choice of meal without imposing undue costs on anyone. If you really enjoy meat, surely paying a couple of pounds more per week for it isn’t going to put you off?

The result would be that if you really like meat, you now get the best of both worlds. You can eat your meat but enjoy the externalities of other otherexternalities other people’s actions.

However, by moving vegetarian meals from a fringe option into the mainstream, colleges could prompt a substantial shift in overall consumption. If replicated at other universities and in workplace canteens, you could see a significant move which would benefit all of us. And if a few people decide to try out the vegetarian option to see if it’s worth the additional pennies, then all the better. Who knows, you might find, like I did, that you really don’t miss meat as much as you thought you would.

Image credit: Honolulu Media / CC BY 2.0 via Flickr


[1] Not least my native British, which, it has to be said, is not the friendliest of cuisines to vegetarians; meat and two veg without any meat is just broccoli and carrots drenched in some coloured vegetable stock masquerading as gravy.

[2] Of course, you could take this to extremes, assuming vegan, nut-free, gluten-free, sorbitol-allergic meals, but so few people would benefit that the social advantage would be outweighed by the sheer number of people inconvenienced.

[3] Since there are fewer vegetarian meals than meat ones, increasing the price of meat meals negligibly could finance a much more substantial reduction in vegetarian meal-pricing.

ChatGPT: The future of journalism?

0

It’s fair to say that software company OpenAI’s latest public beta, ChatGPT, has taken the world by storm since its release in late November last year.  It has provoked debate on countless levels from ethics to the future of work.  As a young and aspiring student journalist I have found myself told repeatedly in the last two months that this is the worst possible time to be looking to enter the industry but I have confidence – confidence in human judgement and appreciation of detail.

First and foremost, journalism is about credibility and accuracy. While ChatGPT can generate information that is factually correct, it inherently lacks the necessary human judgment to verify the credibility of the information. A human journalist takes into account sources, biases, and other factors when reporting a story, but ChatGPT simply outputs information based on its training data. This raises the risk of spreading false information or misleading stories, which would damage the credibility of journalism as a whole, something which has seen a concerning trend in recent years even without AI.

Journalism is also about empathy and understanding. It is not just about relaying information but also about putting it into context and making it relevant to the audience. ChatGPT, being an AI language model, lacks the ability to understand human emotions, culture, and experiences. It simply cannot provide the depth of understanding and context that a human journalist can bring to a story.

Third, this industry is about diversity and representation. AI language models are only as good as the data they are trained on, and if the data is biased, the model will be too. ChatGPT, being trained on massive amounts of data from the internet, can perpetuate existing biases and perpetuate them in its outputs. A human journalist, on the other hand, can bring a unique perspective to a story and ensure that marginalized communities are represented in the media.

And finally, journalism is about accountability. While ChatGPT can be programmed to adhere to ethical guidelines, it lacks the ability to make ethical judgments in real time. A human journalist can be held accountable for their actions and decisions, but ChatGPT cannot be held responsible for the information it generates or the consequences of those actions.

In conclusion, while ChatGPT has the potential to assist journalists in their work, it cannot replace the human element of journalism. The future of journalism lies in the ability of human journalists to provide accurate, empathetic, diverse, and accountable reporting. The role of AI language models like ChatGPT should be to support and enhance journalism, not replace it.

Now that is all well in good but what does concern me, and might you, is that those last 700 words or so were in fact written by the AI bot itself.  Even more scary is the fact that those words are coherent, and I generally agree with them.

In places though, the piece seems formulaic and one-dimensional.  The key lies in the inputs and requests that you submit.  When I asked for the same comment piece ‘in the style of Jeremy Clarkson’, it opened like this:

Listen up folks, I’ve got something to say about this ChatGPT business and its supposed future in journalism. It’s a load of old tosh, if you ask me. And let me tell you why.

First of all, journalism is all about trust and accuracy. And I’m sorry, but ChatGPT simply doesn’t cut it in that department. It’s just a machine spitting out information based on its training data, without any human judgment to verify its credibility. I mean, have you seen some of the stuff it comes up with? It’s like trying to get driving directions from a satnav that’s had a few too many pints at the pub.

Impersonation in the extreme?  Perhaps, but the ability of the model to learn and adapt its styles is remarkable.

The impact on the business world is potentially huge too.  In an economic environment of mass tech layoffs in the wake of the world reopening after COVID lockdowns, Microsoft has bet big.  Their $10 billion investment has left Alphabet feeling more threatened than ever and for the first time in years, there is the prospect of Bing becoming a serious player in the market again.

Don’t get me wrong, I am truly confident that the future of journalism is not articles written by bots or models but there is no doubt that it has a role to play.  In terms of writing plans, giving ideas, and assisting writers across all fields the potential is game-changing but the newsroom and its employees are safe for now.

Image: CC2:0//Via Flickr.

Diary of a Wannabe Bilingual

0

I’ve never been a linguist. No amount of toil or prolonged manic Duolingo frenzy has ever or will ever change this. Nor will beginner podcasts, exchange trips, Quizlet revision lists, pen pals, foreign television, conversations with bilingual friends, or manifestation. Yes, I really have tried every possible option. I don’t mean to say that I was ever a bad student (God forbid), just that it never stuck. No matter how intensely I may have wanted it, it simply wasn’t destined to be.

It wasn’t until recently that I devoted any time at all to thinking about why this could be or what this could mean. Language is, first and foremost, a means of communication. Being bilingual would undoubtedly have been a practical skill. Beyond this, the notion that bilingualism is a marker of identity solidified my (already ardent) intent to master a second language. I knew it to be a special badge that gestured towards belonging to something bigger than you, like the key to a secret society where the agenda was always to exchange inside jokes and mock the oblivious excluded commoners. And it was generally accepted that the English were the most painfully uncool, tacky, and obnoxious club out there, second only to the Americans. Jokes aside, if what I was really after was a sense of belonging, why was I not satisfied with my English?

I was brought up by an English mother and a Thai father. That I never learnt a word of my father’s first language and am to this day unable to communicate with my grandmother fluently has always been a sore spot. If I only share a language with half of my extended family, then it follows that my identity is not linguistically grounded. But then, I never watched the same television series (I’m thinking specifically here of ‘Strictly’), or grew up eating the foods that my mother’s family enjoyed so I always felt that I lacked the cultural milestones that otherwise would have given us a lot in common. In the end, neither language nor cultural associations connected me to my family.

I belong to an expat family; expatriates that live outside of their home country. Twenty years ago, my parents (desperate to escape the confines of the United Kingdom) packed us up to leave and never looked back. Over the course of my schooling years I juggled three different languages as well as any primary school student can be expected to juggle (read, not very well): French in Mauritius, Japanese in Tokyo and Mandarin in Hong Kong. The common phrase I managed to retain across these languages is ‘Sorry, I speak English’ (very telling, I know). Other bits and pieces I’ve picked up along the way relate to specific -and not very useful – memories and experiences. I remember the incoherent and curse-word ridden French phrases scrawled across the school bathroom doors in Mauritius, how to explain how I want my hair done in Japanese (I was one of those who insisted on side bangs when I was in year 4), and how to ask the bus driver to stop in Cantonese, all of which doesn’t leave me much to work with today, and definitely doesn’t qualify me as being bilingual.

In the wake of moving around a lot as a child, and later as a teen, learning a language always seemed like an activity confined to the classroom, and one which I would inevitably abandon a few years in when my parents packed up to move us across the world again. It became an awkward cycle of doing well enough to pass whatever exams were coming up before starting the next. Later, gawky teen summers spent in the UK made it clear I didn’t fit in quite as seamlessly as I’d hoped; conversations usually involved nodding along and pretending I knew who the Go Compare guy was, or butchering pronunciations of British cities and streets (how is anyone going to get Marylebone right on the first try?) But when I went back home, I needed help from friends to translate the menus and I could never escape being profiled as a ‘gweilo’ (Cantonese slang literally translating to “white ghost” or “white devil” used to describe foreigners).

I looked back on the many years I spent on the defensive when people asked where I was from. I felt the need to accompany my answer with a justification as to why I couldn’t speak the native language. It’s hard to convince someone that my ‘home’ was the same place in which I couldn’t communicate with the majority of the population. Many clumsy explanations later, it began to feel like I had no tangible connection to my homes, past and present. I recognised more and more the implications of the subtextual coding of language as identity and where this left me: I was in a delicate state of limbo between not being British enough in the UK and being too British abroad, and I was condemned to this cultural no-

man’s-land. 

It’s funny because the notion of ‘home’ seems so deeply private. It appeared antithetical for me to have been so desperate to cling to a culture of people Ididn’t know, and to have been so conscious of how to justify myself to those people. ‘Home’ is meant to encapsulate where you fit into the wider world. I’ve come to realise that it is not as intimate or straightforward in reality as people might think. It bears notions of belonging, family, community, and background, and when these can’t be neatly reconciled, it’s bound to be confusing. I’m sure this is a sentiment shared by many, perhaps by fellow expat babies, children of a diaspora, mixed kids, and probably more.

Amidst these reflections I do not dispute for a second my immensely lucky and happy upbringing. Growing up an expat afforded me humbling exposure to the world, to which I owe not just the unique experience of having my playground span continents, but also my

present sense of self. Today I am acutely aware of both the privileges and disorientations packaged up in expatriate culture. I suppose being an expat itself symbolises a weird intermediate state of community, like how once you get through security in the airport you’re technically in international waters already; you’re not quite one or the other but somewhere in the middle. To continue this awkward metaphor, I just had to find comfort and stability in this boat in the middle of the sea, turning this rudderless boat into a home, if you will (this is working better than you can imagine because we actually did live on a boat in Hong Kong). Now, the feeling of shame in admitting my monolingual limitations has almost dissipated.However, I will admit that every so often when it comes up in conversation I still feel a creeping urge to redownload Duolingo…