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Oxford University receives millions of pounds from arms companies

By
Samuel Williams
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Image Credit: Tejvan Pettinger via Wikimedia Commons

An openDemocracy investigation has found that over the past five years, UK universities received over £100 million in donations, funding, and sponsorships from arms companies. According to the investigation, Oxford University has taken approximately £17 million, with the lion’s share of this money from Rolls Royce. 

This is not the first investigation into the University’s accepting funds from arms companies. In 2021, an investigation by Action on Armed Violence found that from 2013 to 2021 the University received almost £20 million from Airbus, Lockheed Martin, and Rolls Royce. 

The full extent to which Oxford University receives funding from arms companies is difficult to gauge, as many donations are kept private despite ongoing FOIA requests. What is equally, if not more difficult to gauge, is what arms companies get in return for their donations. 

OpenDemocracy found that 36 arms company officials sit on advisory boards to twelve Russell Group Universities. Arms companies also fund specific projects at Universities, such as the Tempest engineering project at Oxford, funded by Rolls Royce. The Centre for Doctoral Training is also often funded by arms companies.

As the International Court of Justice hears the case of South Africa v. Israel, with South Africa accusing Israel of perpetrating a genocide against the Gazan population, the conversation around complicity in possible war crimes has intensified. Lockheed Martin, the American company that produces F-35 fighter jets for Israel as well as numerous other countries, has stated that roughly 500 UK-based suppliers are involved in the production process for the F-35. Amongst these suppliers are companies such as Rolls Royce, BAE systems, and Airbus.

Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank are not the only war zones where British and American arms companies have been implicated. Lockheed Martin has been supplying Saudi Arabia with arms while the Saudi-led coalition in Yemen launches airstrikes described by Human Rights Watch as indiscriminate and disproportionate. Lockheed Martin has also been supplying the Turkish state with high level fighter jets, despite decades of Turkish military aggression towards Kurdish people and support of the Azerbaijani militaries. 

Organisations such as Action Against Oxford War Crimes and Disarm Oxford have been outspoken against the involvement of Oxford University with these arms companies. On their website, Action Against Oxford War Crimes claims “the University is complicit in death and destruction,” and in a press release from last year stated “we will not give up our fight until Oxford University cuts all ties with […] arms dealers.”

Oxford University spokespeople have responded to these accusations, telling Cherwell: “All Oxford University research is academically driven, with the ultimate aim of enhancing openly available scholarship and knowledge. Donors have no influence over how Oxford academics carry out their research, and major donors are reviewed and approved by the University’s Committee to Review Donations and Research Funding, which is a robust, independent system taking legal, ethical and reputational issues into consideration before gifts are accepted.

“We take the security of our academic work seriously, and work closely with the appropriate Government bodies and legislation. Much of our overseas collaborative research addresses global challenges such as climate change and major health problems where international involvement is important in delivering globally relevant solutions.”

As protests concerning the Israel-Gaza War continue to be held in London and Oxford, it is likely that dialogue will continue surrounding the University and its ties to arms companies. 

Tiddlywinks, Quidditch, and Psychedelic Drugs: Inside Oxford’s Strangest Student Societies

By
Martin Conmy
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Image credit: Cherwell Features

It’s Monday night. My friends have invited me to go clubbing, my essay is overdue, and I can’t remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep. But I’m not in Atik, the library or bed. Instead, I’m in a room full of strangers, playing the most intense tiddlywinks game of my entire life.

Thus began my journey into the most unusual student societies Oxford has to offer. I had seen the usual suspects – the Union, the political clubs, even a few of Oxford’s many finance bro societies – but now I wanted to venture into the bizarre underbelly of student life, investigate some of the strangest, most niche cliques and subcultures around.

I confess I had expected the Oxford University Tiddlywinks Society (OUTS) to take itself completely unseriously, to be committed to irony and taking the mick –perhaps over a few drinks. Tiddlywinks, for those unaware, is a traditional British children’s game involving flicking plastic roundels, or winks, into a pot. It’s a true mind game. It didn’t take long to realise I was wrong; walking in, I was immediately introduced to Jon Mapley, four-time tiddlywinks world champion, currently ranked 10th best tiddlywinks player in the world, who was here to coach Oxfordians on the ways of the winks. His star power, combined with general enthusiasm for the game, had been enough to draw around twenty students from all across the university.

I spent a brief few minutes chatting to this legend of the game. Tiddlywinks, he explained, was a game of ‘90% skill’; when asked how many hours he had put into the game, he said he ‘couldn’t possibly count,’ that he ‘couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t played tiddlywinks.’

Indeed, the competitive sport of tiddlywinks is a rather different beast from the children’s game, complete with a timer, intricate scoring systems, and an elaborate set of strategies. After only a few minutes of practice, however, of warming up the winking muscles that had lay dormant since childhood, I was thrown into the deep end, into the rough and tumble of a game; the man I was paired up with, it seemed, had come better prepared, a bandana around his head as though he had ensured his dress sense would reflect his readiness for battle.

As the game began, the atmosphere was closer to an exam hall than a games night; what conversation occurred was almost entirely limited to discussion of strategy, my attempts at humour largely falling on deaf ears. Unfortunately, the learning curve of tiddlywinks is a harsh one; the winks completely refused to cooperate with me, leading to me spending most of my time picking them up from the sides of the room where I had accidentally launched them. The match ended with me and my partner losing a miserable 6-1, largely, I will admit, thanks to my own incompetence.

The entire event had an air of the surreal about it. I couldn’t help but think that it was probably the ridiculous, quaint sort of thing that Americans imagine Brits get up to in their spare time. It was as though many of the competitors were speaking an entirely different language to me. ‘This is a squidger designed for squopping,’ Jon Mapley patiently explained to me, and another student student extolled the skills with which Maples used his winks to ‘cracker’ and ‘boondock’ the opposing gamepieces as the match went on. Later research revealed that these were all real terms; no one was just pulling my leg.

Realising that perhaps my skills weren’t up to the intensity of competitive tiddlywinks, I drifted over to the man seeming to be the event’s organiser for a chat. ‘Are you the President?’ I asked William Roberts, a medicine student in his final year. He shook his head; OUTS has no President. Instead, their governance system is more of a ‘hereditary monarchy,’ as William described. His role isMaster of the Winks, top of a succession determined by length of time spent at the club. The only other way to ascend the hierarchy is to challenge someone above you to a game of tiddlywinks – something which William informed me had happened earlier this term, a dramatic episode seeing Dominic Seymour challenge and then beat Anthony Adamson.

Indeed, there are very few student societies that can lay claim to as much history and influence as OUTS. Founded in 1958, OUTS have not only played a central role in the development of competitive tiddlywinks, but are also largely responsible for the fact that anyone outside of Britain knows of the game; OUTS’ 1962 tour of North America – sponsored by Guinness, who gave them the equivalent of over $15,000 for the expedition – can take most of the credit for introducing the game to Yanks. The tour also saw OUTS steamroll virtually every American team they encountered. “Had the Empire been built on tiddlywinks, perhaps we would never have lost it,” Time magazine wrote afterwards.

I found Oxford University’s tiddlywinkers a generally affable bunch, but they clearly take tiddlywinks far more seriously than I am capable of. If you’re looking for a way to pass a dull Monday night, or are interested in an idiosyncratic but competitive new hobby, I’d recommend their weekly sessions; but I doubt I’ll be returning.

The next stop on my journey, at the Oxford University Quidditch Club (OUQC), was one I was far more worried about. I had proven ineffective at a sport of the mind; but my skills at sport are infinitely worse. A diet consisting largely of cigarettes and frozen pizza isn’t unheard of among students, but it’s hardly advisable for an athlete.

It didn’t take long after arrival for all the memories of my time in amateur youth football to come back – the mud, the stale bibs, the all-conquering aura of cold misery that we Brits call weather.

But I quickly realised that the atmosphere of quidditch is very different from that of football – or any other sport I’ve played, for that matter. It felt like all the people who had always been the last ones to be picked in PE had assembled  to play a sport all of their own; the twenty or so people who had arrived looked more like the attendees of a Magic: The Gathering convention than sports club’s regulars.

That probably sounds cruel and condescending, however in reality it felt much more welcoming than I had anticipated. OUQC felt like a complete refutation of all the worst stereotypes of sports clubs at this university. Instead of any hazing rituals, we began by sharing our pronouns. Past socials, I learnt, hadn’t involved drunken crew dates or high octane club nights, but excessively wholesome activities like friendship bracelet making and Mario Kart tournaments. The website of quidditch’s governing body describes how they ‘greatly encourage anyone from any background to take part in our sport’ – this seemed like a truthful statement rather than a piece of empty propaganda, people of all genders, sizes and backgrounds having gathered together. Indeed, it didn’t surprise me to learn that the Oxford University Quidditch Club had gone along with a name change of the sport from quidditch to quadball, in an effort to distance themselves from JK Rowling’s toxic brand; “quadball is for everyone – including those from an LGBTQ+ background and who identify within the trans or non-binary community,” as QuadballUK’s website reads.

We began with a few training drills. Rather than broomsticks, quadball is played with a plastic pole held between the legs; a volleyball and three dodgeballs are the other pieces of crucial equipment; and the hoops are positioned not miles in the air, but held off the ground by plastic poles of around a metre’s height.

It only took a few minutes for my expression of nervous awkwardness to be replaced with a genuine smile; the embarrassment I felt as people walked by to gawk at the bizarre game being played in University Parks dissipated almost immediately. If I had been surprised by how competitive the Tiddlywinks Society was, I was surprised by how relaxed the Quidditch Club was – despite OUQC’s impressive record of success, having only recently come third in the regional championships. 

During a break for water, I chatted with a few of the attendees. I was curious as to what drew people to the sport in the first place. ‘Pizza,’ explained the first player I asked. ‘I was really broke when I started at uni, and they were offering free pizza at an event – I went along for the food but stayed because I enjoyed it.’

Quidditch, I learned, is not a sport just for Harry Potter fans – one attendee confessed they had never finished the books or watched the films. The novelty of playing such a silly sport, explained the club Captain, was usually only what drew people in at first – genuine enjoyment for the game was what made people stick around.

Then, it was time for the real deal – a proper game.

In the Harry Potter world, quidditch is defined by high stakes and dramatic action. Though the  real-life sport may be a direct replication of the rules (minus the magic),it is defined by complete pandemonium. Most sports only have a single ball in play at one time; quadball has four. Even some of the more experienced players seemed to spend much of their time engulfed in complete confusion, seeming to me to be running around and throwing balls almost aimlessly.

I had been dreading my visit to the quidditch club; but I ended up enjoying myself, finding the company extremely amiable. OUQC seems like the perfect place for non-sporty people who want to play a sport, who want to avoid the toxic, macho environments and fierce competition associated with other sports clubs at this university, while  retaining the fun and exercise. Part of me even didn’t want to include my quidditch experience in this article; I felt almost like a traitor, revealing myself not as a friendly new club member but instead as a soulless student journalist.

Quidditch and tiddlywinks aren’t the strangest clubs at this university, though – I would argue that honour undoubtedly goes to the Oxford Psychedelic Society (OPS). While the university authorities proclaim to dogmatically retain a strict no-drugs policy – the proctors note that ‘the Colleges and the University are forbidden by law knowingly to allow drug misuse to take place’ – they are more than happy to sanction a society made for ‘all the people who appreciate psychedelics.’ The university allows OPS to host events in their buildings and to have a stall at the fresher’s fair – OPS even have a senior member, Professor Morten L. Kringelbach, a fellow at Linacre College focused on neuroscience, with a particular focus on the possibilities of using psychedelics as medicine.

Having been to more than a few  bizarre talks in my time here at Oxford, none came close to reaching the depths of absurdity of the talk hosted by OPS. Joining us on Zoom all the way from Brazil was Gregory Puente, the first Westerner to become, after over a decade of training, a Master of the Bwiti tradition – a Gabonese ‘School of Divine Mystery,’ which emphasises the use of the psychedelic iboga shrub to connect oneself to the divine realm.

If you put ‘LSD as a person’ in an AI image generator, it would probably spit out a picture of Gregory; he had long, cascading hair, a dreadlocked beard, and a dreamy look. His colourful shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a variety of tribal necklaces. As I walked in, he was absent-mindedly strumming on a wooden harp. In person was one of Gregory’s students, a Scottish man named Stephen who had quit his high-flying advertising job following the 2008 crisis to pursue a life of psychedelic ritual.

The event consisted of over an hour of Gregory rambling in his thick French accent, expounding upon his theory of life, drugs and the universe. Occasionally, the President of OPS would interject to ask a question; Gregory would usually reply by saying that details of the iboga ceremony itself were secret, only allowed to be shared with those who had been initiated. This made the whole affair rather awkward. Perhaps I hadn’t encountered OPS on their best day; the event was well attended, around 30 people having coughed up the £3 entry fee, but along with the usual phone scrolling, two people left about five minutes in, while another fell asleep shortly afterwards.

I learnt an enormous amount during this talk. The Bwiti tradition had been pioneered, supposedly, by the pygmy peoples of Central Africa; this ancient tradition was in fact at the root of every other tradition developed by mankind. Taking the iboga plant is said to open your third eye, to connect you to the ‘Mother Father Divine,’ taking you to a spiritual realm where both time and space are meaningless. Most baffling of all was when Stephen claimed that after taking his mother to a iboga ritual, she had been cured of her schizophrenia – modern science, by contrast, has long noted the potential of psychedelic drugs to bring extreme episodes of psychosis to schizophrenics.

I couldn’t help wondering what it was that Gregory did for a day job; I struggled to imagine him in a suit and tie, working at a desk. My questions were answered after some later research; Iboga ceremonies like those hosted by Gregory often take several weeks, and can cost up to $20,000.

After the event, I joined some of the attendees in the pub. After chatting with some OPS members, my prejudices soon began to dissipate. These were not some drugged-up hippies, wasting their Oxford days away by shoving themselves full of substances. For most of them, psychedelics seemed as much of an academic interest as a hobby. I could understand why the university allowed OPS to exist; the authorities’ suspicions, the President explained, did not last long once it became clear that no drug consumption took place in any OPS events hosted inside university buildings.

Almost all of the members I spoke to had made psychedelic drugs the main focus of their research; most were neuroscience masters or PHDs, with a few also studying anthropology. These were people who had allowed their passion for drugs to define their lives, their courses of study. One had written their politics thesis entirely on the subject of psychedelics; another had synthesised numerous entirely new psychedelic drugs on his own while he was studying in the US – although only one of these compounds had been consumed by humans, having been independently discovered afterwards by another psychedelic scientist, who had then taken it himself and documented his experience on Reddit.

Chatting with the President, he informed me that he wanted the society to break people’s stereotypes of what psychedelic users are like. In person at least, this mission was one he was clearly successful at; I was struck not only by his fierce intelligence, but his passion for psychedelics not only as a fun pastime, but as a form of medicine with the potential to treat ailments from opioid addiction to PTSD. It baffled me, however, how the scientific rigour of so many OPS members could coexist with the pseudoscience and mysticism of some of their speaker events.

I left OPS feeling rather perplexed , but equally glad I had gone; I had come across a friendly group of eccentrics, bonding over their shared interest, even if that interest was one with little currency in most of society, or one I had little care for myself.

But that description would go for the Tiddlywinks and quadball clubs too. Many of the biggest societies at Oxford University have pretty awful reputations, from the hacks of the Union to the, well, everything of the OUCA.In investigating the subterranean network of clubs and societies, I not only failed to find these toxic stereotypes, but consistently came across the exact opposite – genuine passion instead of soulless careerism, real friendliness instead of hacking, welcoming kindness instead of exclusionary cliques.

My experiences at OUTS, OUQC, and OPS were all extremely strange; but they were also experiences I’m glad I had. I can genuinely say that I’d recommend attending all of them, regardless of whether you’re a seasoned veteran of the scene, or a curious newbie. If you’re looking for interesting people or a new hobby, I’d say there’s nothing better than to attend some of the weirdest societies you can find – I haven’t even touched on some of the other bizarre associations hosted by the university, from the Oxford Guild of Assassins to the Cheese Society. Perhaps I’ll even see you there one day.

Green Templeton College demolition plans draw criticism

By
Rhea Kaur
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Image Credit: Julian Herzog via Wikimedia Commons

At a meeting of Oxford City Council’s Planning Committee on Tuesday 23 January, Green Templeton College was granted approval to demolish its Richard Doll building in order to build new and environmentally friendly student accommodation for 51 graduate students. This approval was granted despite objections from the Oxford Architectural and History Society and the Thames Valley Police.

In order to carry out work to build the proposed accommodation, the 1981 Richard Doll building, which houses two tennis courts, two squash courts, and a gardener’s shed, will have to be demolished. 

Green Templeton College Bursar, Dr. Tim Clayden, told Cherwell that new building works would allow for the “returning of the magnificent Radcliffe Observatory back into being a study space, including library, a new and improved lodge, single-storey café, [and] permanent sports facility.” There will also be a studio and ensuite rooms for graduate students.

Members of the Oxford Architectural and History Society, however, have expressed concerns that “demolition of these buildings would be harmful to the setting of listed buildings and to the appearance and character of the neighbouring conservation areas.” 

Thames Valley Police recently stated: “[They were] unable to find a lighting plan within the current application… it is important for pedestrian safety that all movement routes within the development are well lit after dark to aid in facial recognition and reduce the fear of crime.”

Green Templeton has previously tried other methods, such as refurbishing the existing Richard Doll building and college entrance. However, these did not fulfil the needs of the college. The college views the design and scale of the new building as a more appropriate response to the surrounding Grade-I listed buildings, such as the Radcliffe Observatory.

Dr. Clayden also told Cherwell that Green Templeton College has “grown its student numbers significantly since its current estate was developed in the 1980s.” Back then, the college housed fewer than 200 individuals while it now has nearly 700 students among its wider community. 

The need for new housing and accommodation in this case is an obvious one. Especially given the fact Oxford is in the midst of a student housing crisis, which in November found students sleeping in queues outside of estate agents to secure accommodation. 

The comments from the Thames Valley Police and OAHS present certain aesthetic and safety objections. Yet Green Templeton College seems to view demolition of old buildings and construction of new ones as the solution to their housing shortage. 

Green Templeton College has already put thought into the aesthetics of the new buildings and into environmental concerns. Dr Clayden told Cherwell the new site will contain “a series of landscaping interventions designed by Dan Pearson Studio, complementing the new buildings and enhancing the existing gardens resulting in a biodiversity net gain of over 16%.” There are also plans for a “scheme, which will be built to Passivhause Standard and reduce the sitewide carbon emissions by over 40%.”

Oxford Union believes money can buy you happiness

By
Selina Chen
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Image Credit: Anita Okunde

At Saturday night’s intervarsity debate against the Cambridge Union, members voted in favour of the motion “This House believes money can buy you happiness” – a debate that saw plenty of roasts fired by both sides at the opposite society. The final count had 130 members voting for the motion and 81 members voting against.

Earlier in the evening, the chamber also voted against the emergency motion “This House would date someone from ‘the other place’” following light-hearted debate. Arguments in proposition included diversifying networking portfolio, having an excuse to go to London clubs, and avoiding awkward encounters with an ex. Arguments in opposition include the horrors of Milton Keynes, disputes over the future child’s university, “bestiality is wrong,” and the lack of hacking utility since Cambridge students cannot vote in Oxford Union elections.

Opening the proposition side was Oxford Union Librarian Elect Louis Wilson (Christ Church), who introduced the opposing Cambridge Union President Nick Davis as their “first president to have undergone Personality Removal Surgery” before introducing Cambridge’s Elected Equalities Officer Jessica Spearman and Debates Officer Elect Felix Esche. The other opposition speakers included Oxford’s Secretary’s Committee member Yassin Hachi (Trinity) and Consultative Committee Chair Sarp Ozdemir (St. Hilda’s).

Wilson began his speech with a dig at Cambridge Union’s membership prices, arguing that “unless you have the money to afford it, you cannot indulge in the happiness they provide.” He then joked that money can buy friendships, illustrated by Union hacks’ relationships “built on the foundation of coffees” bought by money. In a cautionary conclusion, Wilson stated: “For good or for bad, the amount of money you have is the single most important determinant of your life’s outcomes and thereby your happiness.”

Opening the opposition, Esche cited an Oxford study that showed happiness increases with income only until a certain point, after which there are diminishing returns. He explained this was because money brings “not intrinsic happiness but the avoidance of discomfort and difficult choices.” He points out that capitalism as a system does not have happiness as its aim.

In a point of information, Oxford Union President Hannah Edwards joked “if I have enough money, I would buy the Cambridge Union and burn it down – that would make me very happy” with Esche retorting that if he had that much money he would first solve “the problem of [her] own Union falling down.”

Speaking second for the proposition, Hachi cited the 8% increase in rent prices at King’s College, Cambridge and the resulting unhappiness. He also mocked the disrepair of the Oxford Union chamber roof, arguing that money can buy “a sense of security – especially a roof over your head.”

Opposition’s second speaker Spearman defined happiness through Bentham and Mill’s utilitarianism and drew on her working class background to argue that the comfort money provides is stability, but not happiness. “Having your needs met should not be happiness,” she said, but rather “a fundamental part of life.” Spearman cited the stories of lotteries ruining winners’ lives and compared the endless cycles of work in pursuit of money to “a hamster wheel.”

Closing the proposition debate, Ozdemir drew attention to the wealth of Cambridge Union’s ex-Vice President Lord Karan Bilimoria, who was implicated in the Panama Papers. He listed the daily routine of an Oxford student while ringing a bell repeatedly – once for every time the task required money. Citing a Cambridge research that money can indeed buy happiness, he said that it is “unrealistic at worst and foolish at best” to assume happiness can be achieved without money.

In conversation with Chair of the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust, Laura Marks CBE

By
Olivia Boyle
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Photo of Laura Marks in conversation at Magdalen College
Image courtesy of Barnabas Balint

Today marks 79 years since the liberation of the concentration camp Auschwitz-Birkenau. Since 2001, on this day, there has been an international commemoration of those impacted by the Holocaust and other genocides. Holocaust Memorial Day (HMD) is an opportunity to remember and reflect on humanity in its darkest moments but also to light the flame – the HMD icon – that illuminates a better future. 

Cherwell gestured to Holocaust Memorial Day 2024 by meeting with the Trust’s CEO, Laura Marks CBE on Thursday. 

When we met, she had just come off a Zoom Call with Imam Monawar Hussain discussing the forthcoming events for HMD in Oxford. She spoke highly of him – “he’s a remarkable person”. 

This interest in interfaith relations forms much of what Laura Marks seems to stand for in her work with charities across the nation (and she does work with a substantial number of them). The same year she became Chair of Holocaust Memorial Day Trust (HMDT), in 2016, Marks co-founded the charity, Nisa-Nashim which is a network of Jewish and Muslim women. ‘Nisa’ and ‘Nashim’ mean ‘women’ in Arabic and Hebrew respectively. 

In the current climate, one would then lean in to ask how the work of the network has been impacted by events in Gaza and Israel. Fairly early on in our discussion, Laura Marks, before I could ask, said “it’s a mess”.

Marks had steam rolling off her fast-turning wheels that had taken her to and from Manchester just that morning for a HMD event. Being busy seems to play a strong part in her approach to charity work and activism. Marks is a multitasker. Once during our conversation I tripped up on the organisation we were discussing and was promptly corrected: “are we talking about chairing the HMD Trust, here, or my work on the Board of Deputies?”

Before Marks began work for the HMD trust in 2013, she was a deputy on the Board of Deputies of British Jews. Of the charity work we did discuss, her time as Senior Vice President on the Board was not without complexity:

“It was all politics. I felt my position made it difficult to get things done and I like to get things done.” Why exactly? “It’s been going 200-odd years.” Indeed, founded in 1760 by a sect of Iberian Jews to honour George III, the Board has had nearly 300 years to establish a way of doing things. And, as a representative body of the Jewish community, the Board is not small: “as well as a Board of Trustees, it’s got representatives – deputies – from synagogues and schools and organisations, and they’ve got all sorts of committees and structures and presidents and vice-presidents.” You get the picture; it’s big. 

Yet, for all the challenges, it was Marks’ time on the Board of Deputies that brought her to the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust. “I think Tony Blair wanted to ensure the HMD Trust retained a strong Jewish element so on its trustee board, three places were allocated to the Board of Deputies and two to the Holocaust Educational Trust.” So when a place on the HMD board was offered in 2013, Marks took the opportunity. 

Laura Marks is Jewish; her immediate family has no connection to the Holocaust. “My great grandparents came to this country. My family is mostly Lithuanian, some Polish. But if you trace it back, there are parts of the family missing.

“People often say to me ‘why are you involved in HMD?’ But, actually, I think it’s better that I’m involved because I think it’s the right thing to do and not because its history personally affects me.”

Standing behind HMD, according to Marks, is this sense of community bonding regardless of social background. “It’s about bringing people together who otherwise wouldn’t meet each other.” Often, Marks observes, you have the two extremes of insular, exclusionary communities and “fragmented, even polarised groups that lack a sense of belonging”. HMD seeks to combat that. 

Each year, HMD has a theme to guide participants’ reflections. In 2024, the theme is ‘Fragility of Freedom’. This seems to resonate, also, with the Trust whose finances have become precarious in recent months. Previously fully funding HMD, the government has now capped funding: fundraising is the alternative. 

I asked what was behind the government’s cap – COVID, the Cost of Living Crisis, mini-budgets? “I think this government has a philosophy that people should raise their own money.”

“I’m not a good fundraiser,” Marks states. But fundraising has a role in the work she does for Mitzvah Day, the faith-led day of social action Marks founded in 2008. “I could ask you to get up on a cold Sunday morning to make sandwiches in a food kitchen but I won’t ask for money.” When philanthropy, government funding and trusts’ donations don’t always pull through, is there an alternative? “It may be the difference between being able and not being able to do something to make a difference.”

Marks has resisted emphasis on fundraising for Mitzvah Day. “Asking for money is a particular skill.” But so is avoiding doing so. Why is that important to Laura?

“Firstly, it forces you to actually engage with the charity. Asking children to bring a pound into school goes on a long journey to actually reaching the charity. Secondly, everyone’s asking people for money. And the third thing has to do with Jews and money.” 

This year there will be a mass fundraising push to respond to the government’s capped funding. At the moment, 70% of the HMDT’s funding comes from the government. Would that control anything the HMDT does?

Marks says, “I don’t think it’s that simple. What we’re there to do is to commemorate and learn from the Holocaust, the victims of the Nazis and the subsequent genocides in Cambodia, Rwanda, Bosnia, and Darfur. That’s our mission until we can say we have learned from genocide for a better future. It’s not that we have a different agenda from them, I just think we might express things differently.”

As for other faith-based charities in the UK, Marks brought up the recent case of government plans to stop funding of the Inter Faith Network over the supposed absence of condemnation of the Hamas attack on the 7th of October last year.  

At this point, our interview was brought to a close. There needed to be sufficient time for Marks to liaise with Magdalen College President, Dinah Rose before the Q&A event that evening. 

We said farewell and I left with a strong sense of Laura Marks’ frustration with the bureaucracy of fundraising. Marks’ ethos is perhaps better characterised by that of Mitzvah Day: charity through acts of kindness rather than through donation. 

With a background in advertisement, Marks knows that detachment from money isn’t risk free. At Mitzvah Day, “we run hand to mouth; we get the money in and we spend it. That’s true of all my charities. It’s a very scary way to run things – there’s no cushion.” But with fewer sources of money, you have fewer people to appease and arguably a charity can run with more freedom. 

In an opinion piece for Jewish News, Laura Marks proposed that “freedom is not a free lunch. It comes at a price, and that price is eternal vigilance.” Like HMD’s theme reminds us – freedom is fragile. 

With thanks to Laura Marks. And to Barnabas Balint for coordinating this interview.

Oxford cocaine research reveals neuron activity behind heightened memories

By
Kyra Radley
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Image Credit: Scientificanimations via Wikimedia Commons

A combined research effort from Oxford University’s Medical Research Council Brain Network Dynamics Unit and the Nuffield Department of Clinical Neurosciences has uncovered a specific pattern of nerve cell activity that leads to the production of insistent memories. The research sought to understand the persistence of memories associated with negative behavioural patterns.  

The research monitored populations of nerve cells in various regions of the brain. The researchers used mice and documented their neural activity after giving them cocaine, noting the nerve cells connections across regions. 

It is already known that memories associated with taking illegal substances and making rash decisions are more intense and encourage their repetition. The monitoring of nerve cells simultaneously in multiple regions aided the identification of a novel mechanism that may affect the creation of these overpowering memories. Researchers also found when they decreased this activity the mice returned to more stable behaviour. 

The first author of the research paper, Dr. Charlie Clarke-Williams, said: “In the case of experiencing drugs of abuse like cocaine, this natural mechanism [internal representation of life experience] is hijacked and can lead to inappropriate actions and, ultimately, addiction. Here we explored how populations of nerve cells distributed across the brain cooperate to underlie strong memory.”

Dr Charlie Clarke-Williams’ paper is titled “Coordinating brain-distributed network activities in memory resistant to extinction” and can be found in the peer-reviewed journal Cell.

Oxford Professor David Dupret was a senior author of the paper and had the following to say on its research implications: “Memories should be balanced. Weak memories are often observed in ageing or dementia. But at the other end of the spectrum are abnormally powerful memories, which are characterised by unfiltered information processing.

“Strong memories that can drive inappropriate actions are seen in a wide range of brain conditions, such as drug addiction or post-traumatic stress disorders. This research provides vital new understanding of how these memories are created in the brain, an important step in identifying new targets for treatments.”

Captain’s Corner: OULTC

By
Krishna Gowda
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Image Credit: Oxford University Lawn Tennis Club, Merton College website

Cherwell spoke to the new Blues captains of OULTC. Here’s the full interview with Jack Pickering, captain of the men’s team, and Sama Malik, captain of the women’s team. 

When did you start playing tennis?

J: I started playing when I was eleven, which is quite late as most of my team started playing before they were six. 

S: I started playing at my local tennis club when I was five.

What drew you to the sport?

J: I managed to get tickets for the Wimbledon women’s final in 2013 and the day after that, Andy Murray won his first Wimbledon title and I’ve never stopped enjoying the sport since that summer.

S: It was a great way to socialise and make new friends. I found tennis fun to play so wanted to keep doing it! I also have a twin sister so we grew up playing together and I always had a partner to hit with.

Were there any specific goals for this season and how has the season gone so far?

J: The main goal for the tennis season each year is to win the varsity match against Cambridge which takes place at the end of Trinity term. We also play BUCS most Wednesdays and we’re aiming to finish in the top half of the league. It’s currently very close in the middle of the table of our division with a few important matches to come.

S: This season a key focus has been to have high levels of commitment from team members in training, matches and to also spend more time as a team off the court, with socials and team dinners. The season so far has had lots of close matches with three close draws, one loss and one win in the BUCS league. With a few matches left to play, the league’s standings are still undecided and all to play for as a lot of the teams are equally matched.

What has been the best win of the season currently?

J: Beating University of Nottingham at Iffley 4-2. We went 2-0 down after two disappointing doubles matches but then won four close singles matches (including four tiebreaks) to win the fixture.

S: The best win of the season currently was our win against Exeter in our away game. The team battled through some matches despite Exeter having a lot of home support to get a 4-2 win.

What has been the biggest sporting success in your time at Oxford so far?

J: Winning the European Universities Clay Court Invitational tournament at the Monte Carlo Country Club earlier this year was big success for the men’s and women’s Blues after reaching the semi finals in 2021 and the final in 2022.

S: In terms of sports successes, the commitment, energy and mindset of the team in all aspects on and off the court has been great to be a part of.

How did varsity go last year?

J: The 2023 Lawn Tennis Men’s Varsity was a very close match last Trinity term, with the Oxford team unfortunately losing 11-10 after two long days of matches. A special mention has to go to Brendan Emmanuel who won all five of his matches for us.

S: Varsity last year was definitely one of the highlights of the year – dominating the weekend and getting the win over Cambridge. Although it was sad to see a significant number of teammates graduating and leaving the team, this year I’m excited to take on the challenge of retaining our win with some new faces in the team.

How difficult is it to have a high turnover of players, losing and gaining players each year?

J: Obviously the nature of a university team is to have players coming and going over the years, but I think you have to focus on the players you have in front of you and try and help them to play the best tennis they can.

S: It’s definitely tough losing players, especially last year when half of the team (including last year’s captain Izzy Marshall) graduated. Having said that, I think it’s also exciting to have new players in the team, getting to know them and developing new team dynamics. 

What’s the best and worst thing about being Blues captain?

J: The best thing is probably getting asked to write some answers for Captain’s Corner. The worst thing is coming up with ideas for tennis drills for sessions where we don’t have a coach.

S: It’s hard to pick one thing that stands out, but one of the best things about being Blues captain is that it’s rewarding to see the progress we’ve made as a team and having an active role leading hitting sessions and creating an energetic, friendly and supportive team environment.

Who are the ones to watch in the team?

J: If you know Italian then Lorenzo Catini is always a good one to watch because I presume you would be able to understand what he is screaming when he wins or loses the point. In fact, if you were in Oxford on the October 25th you would probably have heard him scream “Forza!” from the Iffley courts when he won his singles match against Nottingham. 

S: I don’t think there’s any one person to watch in the team as I think each member has different strengths and skills, meaning a lot of players are evenly matched down our rankings. Sneha Kotecha is new to the team this year and having played number one at Exeter during her undergrad, has a lot of experience of playing at uni and as a highly competitive junior.

Reflections on the gender pay gap: What Claudia Goldin’s Nobel Prize has taught us

By
Emily Borghaus
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woman sitting at a desk and working
Image credits: Nikon Corporation via Unsplash

“Five beautiful women? All doing economics? No wayyyy!”

This was remarked by two male PhD students at the UCL faculty welcome drinks after they had inserted themselves into a conversation between me and a group of fellow master’s students. As their comment so gracelessly points out, economics is a male-dominated profession – more so, in fact, than most STEM fields. Women make up roughly a third of economics undergraduate students, and this ratio drops to 15% for tenured professors. Women are also underrepresented in the Treasury, the Bank of England, and policy think tanks. Given that economics is a social science, which analyses how human behaviour affects economic outcomes, it is particularly concerning that its practitioners are so unrepresentative of society. 

In this context, the 2023 Economics Nobel Prize is a triumph for the field. Its recipient, the economic historian and labour economist, Claudia Goldin, is only the third woman to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences, and the first to be honoured solo instead of sharing the prize with male colleagues. Goldin was awarded the prize “for having advanced our understanding of women’s labour market outcomes”. Since she became the first woman to be offered tenure in the Harvard Economics Department, Goldin has contributed extensively to, and often pioneered in, this research frontier. 

Her analysis covered over two centuries’ worth of data from the US economy in a project to chart the progress of women in the labour market. The findings dispelled myths around female workers: Instead of being “traditionally” constrained to housekeeping and child-rearing, married women were responsible for a significant portion of production within agrarian societies of the 19th century. Goldin was also the first to examine the effects of the contraceptive pill on economic growth. Labour-enhancing innovations are a source of great interest to economics research – but while her male peers narrowly focused on technology and machinery, Goldin showed that the lower risk of unplanned pregnancies sparked an economic revolution as sexually active women became free to invest in time-consuming degrees; the resulting surge in doctors, lawyers, and other essential professions is what policymakers dream about.
 
Goldin’s investigation of the gender pay gap has been most instructive regarding the current barriers faced by women in the labour market. Although norms around full-time careers for women changed after the Second Wave feminism of the 70s, women were still on average earning 50 cents to a man’s dollar. This was, in part, indicative of what was at the time a ‘productivity gap’ between male and female workers in the same profession: Due to massive social obstacles in their pursuit of higher education and work experience, women were seen as less qualified in the eyes of employers. Once women were free to pursue an education and a career, the differences in years of education, content and quality of education, and accumulated work experience between the genders rapidly converged. In fact, women today outperform men in educational attainment: The number of women at university began to exceed that of men 16 years ago, they outnumber them at every Russell Group university, they are more likely to get a 2:1 or a First, and they are less likely to drop out.

It therefore seems that judged by productivity standards that once “explained” the gender pay gap, today’s women are racing ahead. Yet, the gap persists. When Claudia Goldin was writing her seminal paper, ‘A Grand Gender Convergence: Its Last Chapter’, in 2010, the ratio of mean annual earnings between male and female full-time earnings in the US was 0.72 – a number that had barely budged since 2000 and has barely budged after, measuring 0.77 to 0.80 in 2023 according to most estimates. At this rate, it would take 40 more years for women to be fairly compensated (and that is ignoring the fact that a more highly educated female workforce should, on average, be earning more than their male counterparts).

In the article, Goldin sets out to statistically determine the culprit behind the persisting inequality – what we economists call the “unexplained” or “residual” portion after productivity differences have been eradicated. She immediately dispels the popular misconception that the earnings gap stems from the fact that women “choose” to work in lower-earning professions (nurses vs doctors, etc) – not only are such choices, if women do make them, governed by factors like sexist work cultures in male-dominated professions; they are also statistically insignificant compared to the earning differentials that exists between men and women in the same occupation. Goldin demonstrates this by estimating what would happen to the gender gap if one were to even out the proportions of male and female workers in each occupation (i.e. assume 50% of doctors and nurses are female) versus what would happen if one equalised average earnings by gender within each profession (i.e. male doctors are on average paid the same as female doctors). In the former case, estimates still show a large gap, in the latter, the gap is almost eradicated. This means that changing the gendered mix of occupations will not solve the problem of the wage gap.  

What then, explains the differences in compensation within occupations? Academics have supplied many explanations: good old-fashioned workplace discrimination, women are socialised to be less competitive and less willing to bargain for pay raises, women spend more of their time doing housework, women take more time out of the workforce to after becoming a parent, the prospect of paid maternity leave makes employers less willing to fill a vacancy with a female worker, and more. Intuitively, these all ring true, and statistically, they have been proven to matter.

Goldin, however, purports to have identified the one singular factor that accounts for the vast majority of unexplained pay differentials between men and women in the same profession. By controlling for differences among male and female workers with the same level of experience within a given profession, Goldin discovers a distinctive pattern in wage differentials: Women start off with similar earnings to men (in the 90% range) but the ratio declines with age and plummets to 60% on average when both cohorts are in their forties. These timings, of course, point to motherhood as the primary culprit. This may not come as a surprise, although the size of the disparity is shocking (Goldin’s findings indicate that women re-entering the workforce after motherhood suffer practically the same level of wage inequality as women 50 years ago). Feminists have spent decades rallying against the social norms that place the onus of childcare entirely with the mother while the father focuses on his career, free to gain experience and promotions that once again leave women far behind. 

However, Goldin is not yet satisfied with this explanation. Another distinctive pattern in the data is that the gender gap varies significantly with occupation, and not in the way one might expect. Tech and science fields – although the underrepresentation and low retention rates of female workers are issues in themselves – have surprisingly low gender pay gaps in every age group. Women in business or law, however, can expect to lose a large chunk of their income post-maternity: An 18-month career break was associated with a 41% decline in earnings for MBA grads, and 31% for law school graduates. This “motherhood penalty” is often viewed as a mere time issue as mothers with young children are forced to scale back their careers. It should, then, raise eyebrows that the MBA grads who see an average pay decline of 41% work only 24% fewer hours on average. 

It seems that women are disproportionately penalised for making career sacrifices for the sake of their children. In fact, Goldin discovered so-called non-linearities in the hourly wages within these industries – that is, compensation does not decline one-to-one with respect to hours worked. A woman who, because of childcare duties, works half the hours of her male colleagues receives, on average, less than half his pay. In the legal profession, where lawyers are billed by the hour, lawyers that work under 40 hours a week receive lower hourly rates. Flexible work, such as a worker leaving the office two hours early for school pick-up but making up for those two hours later in the evening, is also underpaid relative to the same hours in a 9-5 schedule.

The reality is that women want to combine children and career, but certain industries make this extremely difficult. Labour-force participation rates indicate this: Counterintuitively, women on average work three or four years less after childbirth than one year after childbirth, indicating that sustaining career commitments throughout is either impossible due to workplace inflexibility, or simply not worth the hassle given how grossly underpaid these efforts are. As Goldin puts it, children require some modicum of parental time, husbands provide little of it, and part-time work in these fields is insufficiently remunerative to justify the difficult task of juggling children and career.

This does not have to be the case. The reason tech and science fields have lower post-maternity pay gaps is that the nature of these jobs lends itself to greater flexibility. Tech work can be done from home, and physicians and pharmacists who use standardized procedures and computer systems to track their clients’ needs can take a year out without much consequence. The pandemic has shown that the vast majority of business and law jobs, too, can be done just as well online from home. It is therefore disappointing that many such firms are now insisting on a return to “office culture” – a concept still tied to the archaic notion of office workers as men who can spend fifty hour work weeks in the office while their wives look after their children – thereby undoing the benefits remote work has offered to working mothers. In the current system, once children have outgrown full-time care, women will return to their former profession and find that they have paid a pound of flesh, earnings wise, for the choice they have made. 

Claudia Goldin’s Nobel Prize is well-deserved. Her research proves that the gender pay gap is a three-tiered social problem. It exists at the level of the individual woman in a male-dominated field who is underestimated by her boss, patronised by her male coworkers, and as a result is either denied the pay, promotions, and recognitions she deserves, or is bullied out of the profession. It exists at the level of the industries that are 50 years behind the status quo, still so ill-adjusted to the idea that the modern worker (whether male or female) might want to combine the demands of family and career that those workers who do attempt this through part-time work, flexible work and career breaks must pay disproportionate penalties on their earnings and potential for upwards mobility in their profession. And ultimately, it exists at the level of the patriarchy that not only fails to recognize and address the parenthood penalty but still expects women to pay it in full without complaint while absolving men of basic childcare responsibilities. 

Literary Red Flags: Cause for Alarm?

By
Georgia Campbell
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Book store sign reading 'Red Books: quality used books'.
Image Credit: Mike Dickison/CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

“Red Flag Books: avoid people who read…”, “If your date reads these books, run for the hills”, “Watch out for people whose favourite books are..” The internet loves to tell us what to do, especially when there’s a healthy smattering of pseudo-psychology involved (I’m looking at you, TikTok). And nowhere is this more apparent than in the popular practice of analysing personality through literary taste: American Psycho, Lolita, A Clockwork Orange – all examples commonly listed among the top culprits for what are increasingly becoming known as ‘literary icks’. These books, in which central characters partake in their fair share of violence, bigotry, and otherwise generally depraved behaviour, have themselves flitted on and off various ‘banned books’ lists since their publication and have now become indicative of a certain type of ‘controversial taste’. A preference for these texts is, apparently, a sure sign of a disturbed character: an underlying lack of empathy, proclivity for aggression, or – perhaps most concerningly – an unhealthy obsession with business card fonts. 

All this speaks to a wider assumption: that the books we like to read, or indeed the media we like to consume, is in some way a reflection of our character. There is, certainly, some element of truth to this: when we recommend a book to someone, for instance, there must be a certain amount of character assessment involved. We assume they will enjoy it because of a specific trait or hobby of theirs, or maybe something they’ve mentioned repeatedly in conversation. I’m certainly not sure how delighted I’d be if informed by a friend that I should read A Clockwork Orange because it ‘reminded them’ of me. Media preference and personality do seem to overlap on occasion, but not always. 

There is, I suggest, no clear correlation between the books that provide an ‘enjoyable’ reading experience – the ones that sit comfortably within our expectations and worldview, the ones that coincide with our personalities – and the books that become our ‘favourites’. Some of the ‘best’ books I’ve ever read weren’t necessarily the most ‘enjoyable’ to read. Sometimes the reading process felt more like watching on in fascination or abject horror. How is the author doing this? Is this even allowed? Though occasionally the mood calls for a book that lets you gently flow through it like a literary lazy river, it’s the text that violently jolts you awake – the one that pokes and prods at your untested assumptions and ideologies – that leaves the greatest impression. 

At the risk of sounding like your Year 10 English teacher: books teach us stuff. They can expand our minds in directions we never thought they could be stretched to, and challenge viewpoints we didn’t know we had. Accessing this complex mental gymnastics involves choosing to read books that we know will provoke even our most deeply-held senses of morality, even if they only serve to validate exactly why we hold them. In a media landscape of increasingly short-form content, the very format of which seems geared towards creating conflict or ‘hype’ by eliminating nuance, the cultural conversations around ‘controversial’ texts must continue. Creating an arbitrary cultural ‘taboo’ around these, granted often deeply unsettling, books is no solution to anything: we need to understand the ‘transgressive’ in order to realise how to ‘progress’. 

In this way, the books we like most aren’t so revealing as the reasons why we like them. Sure, some people get a kick out of being seen with a ‘gritty’ book in public, but these ‘Red Flag Books’ cannot be – in themselves – a sign of anything more ‘sinister’ lurking beneath the surface of their adoring readers. They are ‘cause for alarm’ only in the sense that they push the boundaries of what is possible and acceptable within literature. So the next time you’re out with someone who says their favourite book is American Psycho, try asking them why. Maybe their reasoning will surprise you, and will lead to a long and fruitful discussion about corporate culture, authorial responsibility, and the ethics of media consumption. Or maybe they’ll tell you that it’s because they want to be Patrick Bateman, in which case: consider that flag very red indeed.

On scouring for words, snollygosters and soaked trousers with Mark Forsyth

By
Ananya Parakh
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Image of Mark Forsyth
Image courtesy of Andrea Colvile

If you could hear my bursts of laughter through the hallways of the Glink in the summer of ‘23, I apologise. But all credits go to The Elements of Eloquence (2013), a book about the role of classical rhetoric in language and literature. Mark Forsyth’s comedic approach to educating his readership on rhetoric and etymology of the English language makes it unexpectedly one of the funniest books I’ve ever read.

As so many great stories have begun, Mark’s did at Oxford:

“It all started with a blog actually. Which was the idea of a friend of mine from New College, not me, my best friend from Oxford. She had the idea of starting a blog together called ‘The Inky Fool’, which was my nickname for her, on interesting facts about the English language and etymology, and funny stories and stuff like that. I continued writing and it got very popular; its popularity brought me a book deal.” 

“That’s how I got my thing; I just love amusing stories. I’ve always had a brain like a rubbish tip which remembers stories, jokes –  ones like, a priest, a rabbi and a flamingo walk into a bar. I have a weirdly retentive memory for funny stories.” As for transferring this into the world of words: “when I find out a story about the etymology of a word or something, if it’s vaguely amusing, I will remember it.”

Being dazzled by the effortlessness of celebrities or even your peers who score a first with apparently no studying (completely untargeted), Mark reveals the honest work that goes behind portraying that: “Dolly Parton said “It takes an awful lot of money to look this cheap.” It actually takes quite a lot of work to write books as though I know it all already and it’s utterly effortless. I do have a pile of reference works open on the desk in front of me, and then I write it up as though I just knew all this stuff off hand, which isn’t always true…”

Out of the world of academia, tasked with crafting The Elements of Eloquence “was a nightmare. I wrote it in the British Library, but I wasn’t actually reading books. I spent the entire time finding a figure of rhetoric and then I just stared at the ceiling, going through every single poem I know and I’ve memorised an awful lot of poetry. But also every song lyric I knew, and every famous quote and every film line, trying to just pull them out of my head. And every time I finished a chapter, I sorted them all out so they nicely flowed, one into the other. Then a day later, I remembered another example which I should have put in. So that drove me completely mad.”

I couldn’t imagine myself picking up a book on alliteration and thinking that that should be a fun read, but the unimaginable happened when I read Mark’s novel. Humour. Some people have it, some people don’t. 

Mark definitely does, but you take his erudition seriously. “There’s an obvious way of thinking about things as jokes versus serious stuff. And if it’s important, you shouldn’t joke about it. But I joke about the important stuff because when I’m joking it does not mean that I don’t take this seriously. The interesting thing about comedy is that it’s about creating a world which operates on the hedonic principle in which only what is agreeable matters and what is disagreeable is bad.

“I’m interested in the idea that you create a world which is kind of cut off from life in which everyone is viewed merely as agreeable, disagreeable, fun or not fun. So in this world, Adolf Hitler’s is a bit of a bore and that’s the main problem with him if you see what I mean. Somebody who believes they are very moral and earnest is always just boring.” 

So to create comedy, go to the masters. “Blackadder is a terrible coward and a bully and everything about him is morally bad. But once you make it just about who you’d rather have a pint with, as it were, then you create a comic world, which is very important. You can have a joke within a tragedy, but it’s still a tragedy. Whereas to create proper comedy means creating a world which is separate from the normal way we look at reality.”

If you’ve ever had the existential question pop up, “What am I gonna do with my degree? What’s the use?” Mark put it to use in the most you-do-you, unique and beautiful way there is: “Oxford has a wonderful English course that was absolutely fantastic. And I’ve been using it ever since. I’m one of the few people to make money out of an English degree, which has always made me proud. 

Back in the day, there used to be a joke among us at Oxford: why don’t English students draw their curtains in the morning? And the answer was, it gives them something to do in the afternoon.” 

In the hedonism of post-graduation, Mark spent his time “trying to get books published and not getting them published.” But The Elements of Eloquence brought purpose: “I wrote it for a couple of reasons. Firstly, because it was the book I wanted to read when I was 16. I wanted to understand what the figures of classical rhetoric were and nobody had written anything or even tried to quote anything good since the 1580s. And the other reason was that the reason you’re reading a poem is that it’s beautiful. It’s like if you say “Full fathom five your father lies”, you are the greatest poet who ever lived. Whereas if you say “your father’s body is 9.144 metres underwater”, you’re just a Coast Guard with some bad news.” And The Elements delves into exactly why. 

Inspiration to follow your dreams can strike from anywhere. It can be – reportedly – divine in nature. Mark pulls the curtain on the true journey to success: 

“There’s a thing which you get in interviews, which is always a lie. The interviewer says to somebody, “when did you first want to be a professional tennis player?”. The reason you became a professional tennis player is you started playing tennis when you were young, and then it turned out you were the best tennis player in class, best tennis player year group, best tennis player in school, best tennis player in the county, and then you ended up in the Wimbledon finals. That’s how it actually happens. In almost anybody’s life there isn’t a moment. But oddly enough, history is going to be really wrong on this because everyone who gets interviewed a lot prepares an answer for exactly that question. Which is a complete lie.”

Oxford can be a bubble, some experiences are rarely possible elsewhere (or at least without getting arrested). One of Mark’s favourite experiences is somewhat of a bucket list one: “I was in a punt getting drunk with some friends. Two of us stood up and the punt became unstable, my friend tried to lean on me and that didn’t work and I fell into the river. It was shallow, but I was soaked up to my waist. I took off my trousers, didn’t take off my underpants, and we all rang them out. And then we all walked back through Oxford to Lincoln College to get some dry clothes. And it’s a bunch of us, including me and I think I was wearing a tweed jacket and a shirt and stuff and just no trousers and no one gave us a second glance. Nobody. My friend said, “Oxford, I love you.” There’s no other city in which you can do this and just nobody will look. There’s just a guy, no trousers.”

Mark’s honest anecdotes brought us to discussion of the snollygoster. This is a word for a dishonest person, specifically a politician. Mark shares his opinion on whether he’d met a snollygoster at Oxford: “No. I was at Lincoln College with Rishi. I was two years above him and I still see him occasionally.” But Forsyth is of the opinion that Sunak does not fit the ‘snollygoster’ bill: “he’s a lovely chap.”

Here is what he is working on next: “A children’s novel coming out this year which is called A Riddle for a King about logical paradoxes. Now, I’m working on the history of English poetry. I got in touch with my old tutors at Oxford who are still around and retired now. I’ve been going up to visit them, buy them lunch and pick their brains, but it’s like going to a tutorial. I found myself desperately revising Wordsworth before going to see my old Wordsworth tutor. Being back in Oxford and essentially having tutorials again is rather wonderful.”

With thanks to Mark Forsyth for this interview.

A Riddle for a King, his new children’s book will be released this year.

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