For more crosswords and other puzzles, pick up a Cherwell print issue from your JCR/Plodge!
Editorial from our mini-crossword setter, Zoë, also in Week 5 print edition:
If you can tell exactly which word should come next in the following set: DRIBBLE, ADDITION, FREEDOM, ELLIPSE, BOOKSHELF, ???; you might have a mind for puzzles. I’ve always thought that the best, most pure form of a puzzle, is one in which you’re not given any instructions. Just a set of data, and working out what to do with it is left to you. This was the idea I tried to put forward with my first puzzle for Cherwell, ‘Guillotines’, at the start of this term, and in general I find the variety slot particularly exciting for the ability to try wacky things that solvers hopefully haven’t seen before.
Finding inspiration for puzzles can be tricky. The ones I’ve been most proud of are the ones that have hinged on a gimmick or concept that is truly original, but I also don’t mind trying my own take on an established format (such as the Printer’s Devilry in this issue), or even blending two existing genres together. But even then, you don’t necessarily need an original format to be able to show creative expression. I’ve a friend who makes regular Sudoku puzzles – no funny rules or gimmicks – and yet somehow he sets them up in a way that makes them feel unique and satisfying.
The most important part for a puzzle setter is making sure the ‘aha’ moments are there – that brief strike of inspiration when you break through a hard cryptic clue, or realise why these answers are too long for that crossword grid, or spot a pattern in the seemingly unrelated set of words – that’s an intoxicating feeling, and one that a constructor will seek to manufacture. But it’s a hard process – you don’t know how solvable a clue is if you’re the one that came up with it; of course it seems obvious!
To be a good writer, you’ve also got to enjoy solving puzzles. I’d really recommend taking part in ‘puzzle hunts’ if you like this sort of thing; they’re big online competitions that are full of well-made puzzles by some fantastic people. If any of what I’ve said sounds interesting and you’d like to know more, get in touch with me!
Students on the Oxford Union’s governing body have been advised that they could face “liability, jointly, and severally” amid an ongoing counter-terrorism investigation, according to minutes from several meetings viewed exclusively by Cherwell. Police have been conducting enquiries since the Union’s hosting of a debate titled ‘This house believes that Israel is an apartheid state responsible for genocide’ last term.
The Standing Committee, the Union’s governing body, is made up entirely of Oxford University students elected by members. According to minutes from several behind closed doors meetings in early December, the Committee was informed that legal advice had been sought that had concluded “members of the Standing Committee (as of today) would be liable, jointly, and severally, at the point at which an investigation takes place.”
In these meetings, the President stressed that any members of the Standing Committee implicated in an investigation would be supported by the Union. Minutes also reveal that the President said members “should exercise their right to remain silent if approached by the police”. The same advice was offered for approaches by the press.
During the debate which prompted the investigation, a guest speaker in support of the motion, Miko Peled, described the terrorist attack carried out by Hamas on Israel on 7th October 2023 as an act of “heroism”. Opposition speakers at the time suggested this could be considered a criminal offence because it supported a proscribed terrorist group.
Counter Terrorism Policing South East told Cherwell they are “aware of reports of a person expressing support for a proscribed organisation, namely Hamas, at the Oxford Union on Thursday 28th November and enquiries are ongoing”.
The event led to protests and complaints from both pro-Israeli and pro-Palestinian activists. It also saw members and guest speakers removed from the chamber amid the tense atmosphere.
One current member of Standing Committee, speaking anonymously, told Cherwell: “I don’t think members of Standing Committee are fully aware of the level of liability they face because of the negligence of others.”
The risk of criminal liability comes at least in part from the content of some speeches that were previously uploaded to the Union’s YouTube channel, though it is unclear which specific speech has prompted the investigation. In early December, the Union deleted and re-uploaded videos from the debate in a partially edited form, saying in a statement at the time that they were “mindful of potential legal concerns”.
This prompted criticism from both sides, with Susan Abulhawa, an opposition guest speaker, claiming on X, that the Union had “agreed in writing” that her speech should “not be altered in any way” and urged the Union to “reverse this ignominious decision”. Minutes from a separate meeting state that: “We [the Union] have received notice from one of the speakers to sue us. We have informed our insurers but nothing at this time is that concerning.”
The Union did not respond to requests for comment.
The University of Oxford, with its ancient colleges and lofty spires, has a reputation of intellectual prestige on the one hand and eccentricity on the other. Across the river Cherwell, its newer neighbour is a modern, dynamic, and sprightly alternative full of industrious opportunities. Yet, it is inevitably still a place where “I go to Oxford,” if left unspecified, tends to be followed by ‘no, not that one’.
Oxford Brookes: the ‘other’ university with which we share a city. They’ve heard it all. I know they have, because I’m fortunate to spend term time and the vac in the same town as one of my closest hometown friends. Our Romeo and Juliet friendship bridges the divide via brunch catch-ups and evenings at O’Neill’s.
For many of us, the Brookes versus Oxford conversation is playful banter, a civil war rendition of the infamous Oxford-Cambridge rivalry that stems from our natural tendency to try and prove our superiority, near and far from home. But is this always the case? Or is there actually some real antagonism underlying these playful remarks?
Same city, different world?
The two universities cohabit a relatively small city, yet the students at each institution live parallel lives, barely interacting with each other. Brookes in Headington, Oxford in the city centre – with a couple of miles of river and an A-road separating the pair. Even the social scene doesn’t really crossover. For ‘Uni of’, we love (tolerate?) Bridge Thursdays, TVC Megabops, the Boogaloo and much more. Brookes students frequent Bridge and Fishies (their sports night at the O2 Academy – supposedly ‘better’ than Indie Fridays…).
The contact between us is relatively slim, while the stereotypical quips about ‘The Other Side’ are just as frequent from team Dominus Illuminato Mea as they are from Brookes students rolling their eyes at our medieval stone snobbery.
What do Brooke’s students actually think of us?
No exploration of any ‘rivalry’ is complete without looking at the other side. Speaking to a Brookes psychology student about the Headington perspective, she insists: “Some students live up to the ‘Brookes not books’ stereotype, but that’s not the case for all of us.”
Brookes students are perhaps better than we are at offering respect and appreciation for the other side: “I think Oxford students have worked really hard to get into Oxford, and it’s a massive achievement to be receiving an education at an amazing university.” However, where both institutions perhaps align is the sense of pride uniting the student body.
Brookes may not edge University of Oxford out on the league tables, but that doesn’t mean it should be looked down upon. It boasts one of the top motorsport engineering programmes in the country, producing Formula 1 engineers who’ve gone on to work for Ferrari, Williams, and Mercedes. Their sports culture is outstanding, with its rowing club producing multiple Olympic medallists in the last two decades. Many Oxford college teams in fact look to Brookes to get their rowing coaches.
When asked about the typical ‘Uni of stereotypes, Brookes students can admit that not every Oxonian they encounter is that of the tweed-wearing, gown-donning, Byron-reading bibliophile type. But for them it is undoubtedly the case that the ‘Uni of’ crowd can sometimes come across as pretentious, posh, and snobby. However, what stands out most to Brookes students is our inability to comprehend that not everybody with an OX postcode is banging on the doors of the RadCam, trying to be a part of the academic elite.
“I think a lot of Oxford students don’t understand or realise that we have differing life circumstances and priorities which led us to choose our universities,” she points out. “My learning difficulties and other life challenges hindered my ability to achieve top marks in A-Levels, but I’m still glad that I chose Brookes, as they have amazing support for students.”
Room for Two?
Any concept of a Brookes-Oxford rivalry, or cold war, can be resolved by understanding that the two universities are not trying to be one another. They both exist for a reason and differ for a reason, so neither should attempt to diminish the other. In the words of Team Brookes: “I love Brookes, and Oxford students love Oxford. We’re all just trying our best to get a degree.”
Perhaps the dynamic between Oxford and Brookes students is all part of the city’s intellectual flair. The older, more traditional sibling may overshadow its younger, cooler counterpart in the headlines. However, over a century of harmonious student life shows that Oxford is big enough to accommodate both of us.
Cowley Community Closet is a self-described, “sustainable, anti-capitalist, queer-run collective”, founded by students Delphi, Abby and Connie in the spirit of creating a diverse and inclusive community within Oxford. They began with swap shops, creating a space for people to come together and exchange clothing and have since incorporated sewing workshops and free self-defence classes. Cherwell spoke with Delphi about the project co-directed by the three.
Talking about the inspiration behind Cowley Community Closet, Delphi tells me “it was just kind of serendipitous. Abby and I went to secondary school together, so we’ve known each other since we were eleven, and we both went on to do our postgraduate degrees at Oxford and met Connie there at a party. We just got along really well. We were all rocking the dyed hair and a kind of sparkly situation. We spent ages hanging out with each other, having hair dying parties, and swapping a lot of our clothes. And then we thought it would be really fun to invite other people into it and we had no idea it would get this big.”
The most important thing to the group is creating something that aligns with their values: a clothing swap naturally fit into their anti-capitalist ethos. Delphi told Cherwell about the thinking behind this: “Particularly within the fashion industry, there’s so much waste and there’s so much abuse of human rights that it was a no-brainer. We don’t orient ourselves around financial value at all. For any item that you bring into the swap you get one token, and for anything that you want to take you give one token back. That means people don’t have to be worrying about cash value if they need a warm coat, they can get a warm coat without having to bring us loads in the first place. It focuses more on the items finding the right home, where they’ll be well loved, rather than on the potential cash value of something.”
Cowley Community Closet found its first home in a pub called The Star in Cowley, enabling them to move the clothing swaps out of their bedrooms and open them up to the public. As the number of people attending the swaps quickly grew, they relocated to Common Ground in Jericho for more space. With Common Grounds’ future rendered uncertain by the University’s proposed redevelopment plans for Wellington Square, and Cowley Community Closet’s sister community closet in Cardiff being recently evicted from their venue, we talk about the necessity of protecting third spaces.
“Creating community was very much what we wanted out of the swap. Yes, the clothing is great but it’s so much more than that. For me personally, I was looking for sober accessible spaces, because I’m a wheelchair user. A lot of young people don’t have these spaces. And you never know how connecting to another person may help you in the future. We can all help each other, even just spending more time socialising and meeting your neighbours, it’s all so beneficial to literally everything that happens in your life. We were keen to not have it situated in the university either. We love it when students are there, but we also want it to be somewhere that feels open and accommodating to people who are residents. I love seeing what people pick out and the shared experience of doing the same activity, occupying space.”
Delphi tells me about how Cowley Community Closet’s self-defence classes, which are free and open to anyone who feels vulnerable, was a community suggestion. “We met Emily, who is a jiu-jitsu master [who came to] one of our swaps. She said she was interested in doing a free self-defence class and we said, ‘we would love to help facilitate that!’ The classes are very fun and popular and a very organic growth for us.”
Having now organised hundreds of swap shops, I asked Delphi what her favourite find has been so far: “Ooh, I think I probably know that for everyone. Mine has to be this beautiful pink tulle skirt. It’s hot pink, it matches my hat, it’s fluffy. I love it. I would put money on Connie’s favourite being the cream leather cowboy boots she found; they belonged to a burlesque dancer who brought us this huge crate of shoes. It was amazing, we love her. And then Abby has got an excellent collection of botanical shirts. I think we are always blown away by the beautiful things that people bring in, and that was what started it all: with beautiful items that just weren’t being treasured the way that they could have been.”
Something I miss about home is the sea. There’s a comfort in the fact it’s always there and never seems to change. When you walk through my hometown, even if you can’t see it, you can smell it. Here I feel claustrophobic; I like Oxford, but it’s weird to live in a place that seems so permanent and solid, constrained on all sides by land. The beach is integral to my town’s identity. The boundaries of the shoreline shift and change. As the tide meets the earth, new environments are born and thrive. Mud and sea come together in the salt marshes to form something that is neither one nor the other. If it weren’t for the groynes, the stones would migrate and shift to somewhere else and the whole landscape would look different. The council tries to stop it, but nature will take its course eventually.
There’s this odd sense of liminality about this town, which is always changing in little ways, but simultaneously a constant. My memories of the town from childhood colour these changes and lend a kind of discordance to the buildings and the trees. An uncanny feeling pervades the place as somewhere in flux. I love to walk around my hometown; I’ve become so familiar with its small number of streets that I even dream about walking them sometimes. There’s something terrifying about coming back and seeing that things have changed.
On paper, it’s not a big deal, and it’s not something that can be compared to the difficulty that so many other communities in the UK face. My concern is one that comes from a place of privilege. However, it feels like the place is in a bubble, though; even something like the local chip shop, owned by one family for decades, closing and being replaced by a Starbucks introduces a sense of decline. Whitstable has been, unlike many other Kentish seaside towns, gentrified to such an extent that it’s almost unrecognisable from 20 years ago (or so my parents say). I’ve worried before that when people stop coming from London, find somewhere new and ‘cool’ to visit, and investment dries up, the town will basically die. Its reliance on tourism means it must be beautiful and picturesque, but that is a curse rather than a blessing; I have friends whose families have lived there for generations but can’t afford to buy their own house, rents driven up by people owning holiday homes they never visit. Oxford seems a world away; going back home to visit feels more like a vacation.
The people are what make the town. You can walk down the High Street and see at least five people you know; in the pub, there are always familiar faces. Yet, it seems that the people are in flux just as much as the town – I notice how my mates have met new friends, and it’s not something I begrudge them. In many ways, I love meeting these new people, but there is a voice in the back of your head that asks, “is this the beginning of the end for us?” There’s a strange awareness that, as the terms pass, the distance is only going to grow. There are jokes I’m not in on, new habits unfamiliar to me, and events that I’m not privy to. The tide is going to march on, and the stones are going to shift, and this is something I won’t always be a part of.
“The city’s dreaming spires are being crowded out by architectural eyesores.” This was the central claim of an article I read in The Spectator last May prefaced ‘The Sad Decline of Oxford’. In it, the author quotes Bill Bryson who argues that: “[Oxford] is a beautiful city that has been treated with gross indifference and lamentable incompetence”.
As a student at St John’s, it is hard not to appreciate Bryson’s point. Indeed, I am reminded of it every day on my walk to the library as I am forced to confront the horrors of the Sir Thomas White Quad, which was affectionately described to me as looking like the “remnants of Chernobyl” in my freshers week (I’m pleased to report a distinct lack of nuclear waste, only the occasional spot of black mould). I sympathise greatly with the poor students forced to live opposite the “Beehive”, a post-war eyesore that clashes greatly with the rest of the 19th century Quad it was lumped into the corner of. The style of these modernist monstrosities is described by the College as “confidently looking forward”. Many, like Bryson, bemoan this attitude, seeing all the charm of the “city of dreaming spires” being stifled by soulless, functionalist architecture.
Perhaps there is some truth to this. I am not writing here to argue that Oxford is not littered with “ugly” buildings. I have little interest in defending the Glink or the Social Science Library, for example (I am sure there are too many other examples to attempt to list many more here). Nor do I think that we should “learn to love” Oxford’s ugly buildings (what an uninteresting cliché of an article that would make!). What I do want to suggest, however, is that there is another, perhaps more fruitful, way of understanding these buildings that puts a special significance on what they represent, particularly for those students who might not have been able to attend this University for much of its history.
Brutalism is often one of those funny things best encapsulated by the phrase “I don’t know what it is, but I know it when I see it”. We all pass by buildings that we wished didn’t blot our peaceful morning walks (or in the case of those students who do real degrees) our hurried rush to labs. The ideology of brutalism, however, is harder to define. Roughly, it seems to be the belief in making buildings more open and accommodating for those who will live in or use them, and in the placing of functionality over traditional grandiosity. In effect, it is a democratic style of architecture that seeks not to be grand or beautiful in any traditional sense, but to be tolerant. And indeed, in seeking to do so, it makes no apologies. Perhaps we think it should. Nevertheless, the significance of what these buildings and their inclusive ideology represent to the University’s history should not be snubbed.
In the latter half of the 20th century, attitudes towards university education changed. At the same time as architects were seeking to make buildings more inclusive and open, there were many in university administrations that sought to do the same. The result of these two philosophies combining is what we see today.
Much of the abhorrent architecture we all have to put up with walking by or – God forbid – living in is, whether we like it or not, the product of the University accommodating an increasingly large, diverse, and comprehensive pool of students. As colleges expand, they can afford to take on more students, and thus increase their accessibility. Accessibility and openness might as well be the mortar holding together these brutalist structures they are so deeply ingrained in the architecture’s philosophy.
Of course, there is nothing anyone can do to stop me from continuing to despise any unfortunate encounter I may have with brutalism during my degree. And I will continue to revel in any trips I take to staircases in older parts of my college. However, to hate Oxford’s ‘ugly’ buildings is to hate the natural consequences of the pursuit of the lofty and worthy goals of increased accessibility and openness. So, next time you pass by that one part of your college you really rather wish did not exist or try to hide some particular building while touring a friend around, maybe it is worth pausing and considering what it all really represents.
Hello, Cherwell reader! Think this is a good article? A TikToker probably thinks so too. ‘Korean Consultant’ posted a TikTok on 5th January 2025 titled “What your university says about you – Russell Group Part 3”. It featured nine universities – each briefly described on a slide – and it stereotyped both the universities and their students. Have a look:
Image taken 26th January 2025.
I received this TikTok on the 6th January from a friend. She was amused, for she had read some of the descriptions before. The ‘Oxford’ slide included quips like, “Either a Moocher that cares more about having first class friends than first class thoughts, or a Pampered Swot wearing a scholar’s gown every night dreaming to be a spy.”
This was suspicious. I had written just a few months earlier about a moocher who cares “more about having first-class friends than first-class thoughts” and a “pampered swot” who wears a scholar’s gown and “probably will become a spy.”
Maybe great minds think alike. But the next point was about someone who claimed to be state-educated, “ignoring their private sixth form and secondary schooling at the best grammar school in the country.” What a coincidence that I had written those exact words too!
My friend immediately recognised that, “whoever made it read your Cherwell article.” Curiously, ‘Korean Consultant’ only cited ‘GPT and online’, not my absolute banger of anarticle, ‘A comprehensive guide to Oxford student stereotypes’. Yes, I’m bitter.
Why I’m bitter
Firstly, someone had used my writing to potentially make money. Meanwhile, I’m not making any money from my own work.
Secondly, I’m bitter because I didn’t receive credit for my own work. If people are going to enjoy my writing, I’d like them to know its stupendous mastermind. This TikToker clearly knows that creating something is difficult and time-consuming, seeing as they stole my work instead of making their own. Stealing my work brings me neither fame, nor success, nor notoriety – and I didn’t exactly write satires of my friends as Oxford stereotypes because I wanted to fly under the radar. I did it because I am pretentious and somewhat irritating in my desire to be the Next Big Thing (i.e. Giles Coren/Caitlin Moran/Evelyn Waugh/similar). It is unlikely. But it is made even more unlikely when ‘Korean Consultant’ copies my writing, bringing me nothing but anonymity and unpaid work. No thanks.
And I’m not alone in this. Millions of writers are not receiving credit for their works. ‘Korean Consultant’ lists “GPT & online” as its sources, when its real sources are more likely writers just like me.
Using my work without crediting me is a violation of copyright. (OSPL’s (Cherwell’s parent company) legal counsel have issued a takedown request for the video, to which we have received no response.) Violating copyright is a violation of the owner’s rights. In this case the owner is OSPL. OSPL owns the particular sequence the words are in, not the idea.
For example, it is not a violation of copyright to write about poncy students interrogating their peers in Hall, but it is to write “If you want to hide silently in Hall, think again – Mr. Art Historian will slide up next to you and ask how you really feel about the representations of Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald”. In this particular example, although the TikToker had altered the order of the words taken from my piece, the content remains recognisable as my original work and some phrases are intact, making it a violation of copyright.
Copyright law
Copyright is an unusual law – and there are caveats, known as ‘fair dealing’ exceptions. Use of protected materials in newspaper reporting, criticism, and education is permitted within reason if the original creator is credited and the material is not used extensively or for profit. But the TikTok can generate profit, violating OSPL’s copyright.
However, AI models also use creators’ works without giving them credit in less obvious ways.
When you prompt an AI model, it generates results by scanning the internet. This might save the time when the alternative is doing a manual search for ‘Oxford student stereotypes’. But AI does not produce its sources or credit individual authors without being prompted to do so, and seems to respond irregularly. For example, when my editor asked ChatGPT, “What are some Oxford student stereotypes? Please cite your sources,” it directly cites my Cherwell article. However, for me, it includes no content from my article and suggests “a 2017 article in The Guardian” “TheOxford Student (2018)”, “The Oxford Mail (2019)” and “The Independent (2019)”.
Unlike the video, ChatGPT can cite specific sources, but only when asked – again leaving the onus on the individual creator to find and cite their sources. It is a search engine that cuts out the middleman: it works by scraping material publicly available and using it to generate synthesised results.
Large language models’ data
But AI models must be trained on something. Large Language Models (LLMs) use creators’ materials in their training process, improving the quality and specificity of results. “GPT” could be responsible for the post not only as a search engine, but as a writer – almost a ghost writer. A good writer must be a good reader.
Baroness Stowell of Beeston, chairwoman of the House of Lords’ Communications and Digital Committee, argued in The Times that tech companies are evading responsibility by training their models, which need “huge amounts of data to work properly”, on copyrighted materials. Tech companies can afford to pay for licences but are instead “simply exploiting rights holders” – such as The New York Times, who are currently suing OpenAI for infringing its copyright by using its material to train their AI model. They contend that OpenAI (the owner of ChatGPT) not only breaches their copyright, but that the use of verbatim NYT content in ChatGPT allows users to access NYT content without a subscription. The lawsuit claims that “the tool is now competing with the newspaper as a trustworthy information source” and will damage subscription revenue.
Some companies are now selling material to AI crawlers for training through licensing, giving them short-term profit on material which might otherwise earn them nothing. AI crawlers explore the internet through a variety of sources, for example websites and databases, both to generate better results for users and to train the model itself.
For example, Lionsgate has sold its whole catalogue of film and TV material to an AI company Runway to be used in training its new AI model. In turn, Lionsgate can use the resulting AI technology in their upcoming projects. Similarly, HarperCollins have made a deal with Microsoft, allowing Microsoft to train its AI models on their non-fiction books. Yet authors do have the opportunity to decline, meaning that authors can retain control over their material. While this may indicate that traditional publishers are selling out to AI, these licenses are an official agreement, showing that it is possible to train AI models without breaching copyright.
Once material has been crawled on and used, there is no going back. HarperCollins’ crawled material will go, claims Richard Osman, into the “large language pool” of “high quality prose” used to train AI models. But what is being done to protect creators?
Fighting back?
Although AI crawlers can be disabled, some are hesitant over fears it could reduce traffic for businesses. Google’s web crawler – which informs its ‘Bard’ chatbot – puts publishers in a difficult position. Businesses may have barred other crawlers from accessing material, but they fear, writes Katie Prescott, that “barring Google’s equivalent […] would disadvantage them in the long term when it comes to making their information findable and accessible on traditional Google.” This pressures businesses to accept AI crawling to retain traffic.
In December 2024, the government opened a consultation on copyright and AI. The consultation intends to establish “how the government can ensure the UK’s legal framework for AI and copyright supports the UK creative industries and AI sector together.” Both industries are vital to the UK economy and the statement makes clear that there must be a balance between protecting creators and supporting AI development.
To address the current uncertainties, the consultation proposes, in short, that AI models can be trained on any material unless the copyright owner reserves their rights. Lisa Nandy, Secretary of State for Culture, Media, and Sport, said that further licensing will in turn allow creators to “secure appropriate payment for their work”. Ultimately, this will give creators more control over their material’s use, allowing them to be paid for their work’s use in training.
Where the burden lies
This puts the responsibility on the copyright holder to declare that they do not want their work used. Yet a government spokesperson from the Intellectual Property Office stated that the consultation “does not propose exempting AI training from copyright law”. They said:
“No move will be made until we have a practical plan that delivers each of our objectives: increased control for right holders to help them license their content, access to high-quality material to train leading AI models in the UK, and more transparency for right holders from AI developers.”
An “exception” allowing AI training on copyrighted content “unless the rights holder has expressly reserved their rights” is “deeply unfair”, writes Owen Meredith, chief executive of the News Media Association. An opt-in system would surely be fairer. Peter Chen, legal counsel to OSPL, suggested instead that “the government should work with industry groups like Creative Commons to establish a new licensing format where artists can decide when and how AI companies can use their work for profit”.
It is already extremely hard for people to protect their copyright against generative AI. Judge McMahon ruled against Raw Story Media, Inc. and AlterNet Media, Inc.’s case against OpenAI for violating copyright due to “lack of standing”. Because AI models synthesise information, rather than copying verbatim, there’s less likely to be evidence of direct plagiarism. The government consultation must address the use of copyrighted work in generative AI and its training, and prioritise individual creators whose work needs to be protected.
I don’t want a random TikToker to be able to steal my writing and get away with it. I want them to take it down – or at least pay me for it. At the outrageously bare minimum, I want to know for certain that the TikToker knows they have stolen it, rather than taken it from an AI generator which will only reveal its deviously acquired sources if begged. I considered asking ChatGPT (or maybe it should be DeepSeek now?) to write this article, but if I had, I know for a fact that it would completely undermine my strongest feeling: that I want everyone to know that my writing was written by me.
As frosty winter winds swept through Oxford at the start of term, you would imagine that we’d spot more students nestling their necks into fluffy scarves and fending off the cold with the armour of a College Puffer. Although far from a rare sight, it is not the most stylish. I’ve encountered enough people who consider the puffer a last and only resort when the temperature drops below zero. In honour of their struggles, here is a guide to creating outfits that will save you from frost and fashion police.
1. Layer under, then over
Investing in a set of thermals is probably the easiest way to combat the cold.The Uniqlo Heattech range or the Intimissimi Ultralight Cashmere tops keep you warm without you breaking a sweat or looking too bulky. They can also be used as a visible layering piece, especially if you own thermals in cool colourways or with patterns and wear them under a short-sleeved top. For those on a budget, H&M and M&S have reasonably priced long-sleeve cotton tops that cost under £15, but it’s easy to find even cheaper alternatives without supporting fast-fashion on sites like Vinted or Depop.
2. Funky Tights and More
Not everyone enjoys wearing tights. The thickest ‘nude’ tights options can fail to match most skin tones and black high-denier ones bring back scratchy sub-fusc and school uniform. M&S can equip you with comfortable staples. However, if you like to dress more maximalist, experiment with colourful hosiery. Try Calzedonia, which offers great stylish tights options! A simple all-black outfit can become more vibrant by wearing coloured or even patterned tights. Woollen tights also come in a range of colours with patterns, and are more durable than ordinary ones, so might be ideal for those who are more sensitive to the cold yet refuse to give in and just throw on a pair of jeans.
3. Boots Galore
Usually made from leather or a vegan-friendly alternative, knee-length boots can help to keep your legs warm too, especially if they’ve got thick lining on the inside. If toddling over Radcliffe Square doesn’t tickle your fancy, go for lower heel options like a western or biker boot to add a bit of flair to your outfits without risking your balance. Faux leather is a cheaper alternative that is just as water resistant as leather, but perhaps not as warm. If the ethics behind the first-hand leather vs. faux leather debate worry you, have a look at second-hand options online or in charity shops, and you might find higher quality boots at a lower price.
UGGs and other suede shoes are great at insulating your feet and might be a comfier alternative to real leather boots. Be warned, these are not waterproof, so it’s best to avoid sporting them if clouds are looming.
4. Coats
Pea coats have appeared in this season’s trend cycle and offer a slimmer silhouette than larger options like a puffer or wool trench. Similarly, blazers which are more form fitting and made of wool or tweed can be fun to layer over thinner tops and skirts. If it happens to be freezing outside, you could always throw on another jacket over the smaller one or add a scarf to protect your neck.
Whether you’ve succumbed to the dark academia accusations or wish to upgrade your College Puffer without compromising on warmth, then a dark wool coat might be a shout. For those who prefer a more glamorous stride to the pub, then a long fur coat might be a lavish alternative. I would recommend that you purchase faux fur unless it is a second-hand piece, in which case real fur can be acceptable because of how well it insulates. The versatility of fur coats in particular makes them a great asset to one’s wardrobe, as they can be dressed up for formals and styled down for everyday wear.
5. Accessories
A scarf is an essential accessory to the Oxford wardrobe and is the perfect layer for adding a personal touch to any outfit. Dupes of the Acne Studios oversized mohair scarf have been popular for years, and can emulate the feeling of being wrapped up in a soft blanket. However, most affordable versions of this style are 100% polyester. Although this synthetic fibre might be excellent thermal insulation and dries faster than wool, it is less breathable, which might cause you to overheat. Natural alternatives, like wool, cashmere, or even mohair, are just as good at keeping you warm, are biodegradable thus better for the environment, and more resistant to wear or tear. To save a bit of money, hunt for scarves on Vinted or eBay. If you prefer to shop first-hand, have a look at UNIQLO, Eldon Cashmere, or Scottish brands that specialise in lambswool. So, say goodbye to your college puffer and choose style!
After the announcement of a modest increase in tuition fees last November, calls for their abolition were once again heard. But scrapping tuition fees would imperil the quality of British universities, do little to make university more affordable, and be socially unjust.
Economically, the British (excluding Scotland, given its different approach to tuition fees) student loan system is the best of both worlds. As the Financial Times journalist Martin Wolf has pointed out, European countries that primarily fund universities via taxation (such as France or Germany) tend to spend a smaller share of GDP on higher education than countries that rely on tuition fees (such as Canada, the US, or the UK). Given how British public services are faring (even as tax take is at a 70+ year high), a switch to state funded higher-education may result in universities receiving inadequate funding.
On the other hand, a system in which individuals borrow from the market saddles those who financially gain the least from university with the highest debt, as they cannot pay it off. Without collateral, banks demand stringent conditions, for instance American restrictions on discharging student loans in bankruptcy. The Institute for Fiscal Studies (IFS) estimates that (under the current, post 2023, system) students will repay on average 1.85% of their lifetime earnings, not an unreasonable amount. Only those who earn enough to pay do so. The recent increase in fees would only affect the estimated 65% of students who will earn enough to not have their debt written off. The British loan system is therefore a good compromise, avoiding the pitfalls of public funding but protecting students from the vicissitudes of market lending.
But more importantly, moving away from tuition fees would not be socially just either. Graduates earn more than non-graduates, so abolishing tuition fees would benefit a better-off group at the expense of everyone else. The IFS estimates that, at age 25, one in seven people do not have good GCSEs (grade C (or equivalent) or above). This group would receive virtually nothing from reducing tuition fees but would face the additional taxes and/or cuts to public services that would fund them.
This points to a limitation in using university for social mobility: much is set by age 16, before higher education can make any difference. The IFS notes that “only 8% of young people who were not meeting expectations in reading, writing and maths at the end of primary school went on to achieve pass grades in GCSE English and maths”. We would better tackle inequality by increasing funding to primary and secondary education, before irreversible disadvantages set in. Using tax revenue to reduce tuition fees instead of this would be a middle class cash grab.
The options for raising revenue to pay for state-subsidised higher education look poor. Alongside raising a larger amount of tax than for decades, the British tax system is notoriously complex compared to peers. Some have hoped that a wealth tax might solve the problem, but studies and commentary on a British annual wealth tax have been lessthanlukewarm and wealth taxes elsewhere have had a poor run.
Britain was one of the hardest-hit countries in bond market convulsions at the start of this year, with the 10-year bond yield reaching its highest since 2008; the 2024 Autumn Budget forecast a debt servicing bill of £126 billion in 2025-26, more than the defence budget. Increasing public borrowing to fund tuition is not a realistic option (and borrowing to fund day-to-day spending is anyway unsustainable). Regardless of whether we believe the UK can realistically raise the funds, are there better ways to spend the additional budget than on abolishing a just and effective system? The rise in British child poverty, among other problems, might suggest so.
Critics of the current system are right to highlight the problem of insufficient maintenance loans. Indeed, the Department for Education’s “Student Income and Expenditure Survey 2021 to 2022” reported that mean full-time student expenditure is more than the maximum (outside of London) maintenance loan, plainly putting poorer students at a disadvantage. However, while maintenance loan amounts do present a very real challenge to poorer students, tuition fees do not: British students do not have to pay them before studying and might never pay them back in full. While the idea of a “student loan” and headline fees would understandably worry an 18 year old unfamiliar with the system, better information about the costs and repayment process would be a vastly more efficient manner with which to tackle this concern compared to scrapping fees.
None of this implies that we should endorse an anti-intellectual populism which sees university education as profligate and unnecessary. We all benefit when everyone, no matter their background, has access to education and is able to put their talent to the best use possible. The modern world would not function if it was full of either graduates or non-graduates. More importantly, education and the pursuit of knowledge are things which we ought to promote and treasure: they make us human. But we must also be clear-eyed about who benefits financially from university education. Abolishing fees would bring little of the beauty of knowledge to those without good GCSEs. It would harm students, the taxpayer, and the goal of equality.
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In Thursday night’s debate, the Oxford Union voted in favour of the motion “This House Would Cancel Cancel Culture”, with 144 members voting for the motion, 144 members voting against, and the tie-breaking vote cast by Union President Israr Khan.
The debate kicked off with Chief of Staff Siddhant Nagrath – in favour of the proposition – mockingly noting that his opposition, Rosalie Chapman, has “an extra knack for cancelling the Union”. Nagrath made a case for “debate, dialogue, discussion”. He argued that cancel culture is “mob mentality” rather than accountability, which blocks beneficial ideas.
He was followed by Chair of Consultative Committee Daniyal Vemuri who started by ‘roasting’ Nagrath for taking his “hack-ginity” as part of his pursuit of presidency in Michaelmas. Vemuri claimed that cancel culture is “in principle with free speech” and necessary for holding each other accountable. He referred to John Stuart Mill’s Harm Principle, arguing that speech can have harmful effects. He concluded with the statement, “free speech maniacs, please go ahead and cancel me”.
Dr Naomi Wolf, an American writer, self-proclaimed “feminist icon”, journalist, and vaccine-denier (this latter past-time wasn’t advertised in the term card) then argued in favour of the statement by listing statistics that supposedly demonstrated a link between the COVID-19 vaccines and infertility. She declared that her “cancellation” was an attempt to “silence” her. Looking up at the balcony, she continued to argue that many thinkers (Socrates, John Milton, Thomas Paine – the list went on) were themselves cancelled for their beliefs at the time.
The debate continued with the opposition speaker and Treasurer-elect Rosalie Chapman. She spoke in support of the victims and marginalised communities that themselves were “cancelled” by dominant powers. Chapman endorsed cancel culture as a sign of social progress, arguing that the racial slurs that “terrorised communities” still have inflammatory and harmful connotations. She later mentioned two Andrews, Prince and Tate, that haven’t been held accountable for their harassment of women and “cancelled”. Chapman finished by saying that “speech is only truly free for those in positions of power.”
Political commentator Dave Ruben spoke next for the proposition, stating that “free speech is literally his favourite thing to do”. He argued that people should be able to say things to each other’s face and agree to disagree without the fear of being silenced by a “weaponised mob”– Wolf nodded sadly the whole time. “Words are words, and you should have learned it in fourth grade.”
Ernest Owens, an award-winning journalist speaking against the statement, opened his speech by saying “if words do not matter, why are we here?”. He argued that speech used by criminals can have detrimental effects and those who claim otherwise are “intellectually dishonest”. Owens used Mein Kampf as an example of when something should be cancelled; an audience member asked for a point of information on this, and Owens responded “we are not going to deny holocaust in my time here” and that “there was a time when people that look like you would ‘cancel’ me”. Owens noted that cancel culture is only disliked by people like Trump because “it’s used to push back for rights”.
The final speaker for the proposition was Union Director of Strategy Eeshani Bendale, who spoke against cancel culture as a “pervasive social phenomenon”, which stops people from learning from their mistakes. Bendale pointed out that the consequences of cancel culture are harmful, regrettable and often irreversible, and that it is not the way to achieve accountability.
The closing speaker of the evening was human rights activist Peter Tatchell. He defined cancel culture as an “an act of withdrawing support from an individual, organisation, or regime” for their actions. Tatchell conceded that sometimes cancel culture has gone too far, but the motion would reject all forms of cancel culture, which is wrong. Cancelling oil companies, dictators, war criminals has a “moral and ethical purpose”, and cancelling cancel culture would result in “betrayal of human rights”.
Before the main debate began, the chamber voted against the motion “This house supports the break up between Europe and the US”. The discussion circled around the Western world, human rights, Russia, Ukraine and Trump. An elected committee member, accompanied by eager claps, argued against the motion and suggested returning the original US colonies to “Britannia”, arguing that the current US government lacks “King Charles’ strong hand”.
The emergency debate was followed by the signing ceremony of six scholarships for students from underprivileged backgrounds from Pakistan in memory of former Prime Minister of Pakistan Benazir Bhutto, who was also the first woman elected to the head of a democratic government in a Muslim-majority country.
This was followed by Rosalie Chapman’s proposition to establish the role of sexual violence officer. The motion passed unanimously except for one loud ‘nay’ from a member.
