Saturday 14th June 2025
Blog Page 640

OULC condemns protesters’ “abuse” of police

0

The Oxford University Labour Club has voted to condemn protesters for chanting “abuse” at police. The club passed a motion on Thursday night to “condemn the abuse of peaceful police officers at any protest” and “to refrain from taking part in any abusive chants whenever OULC attends protests.” The motion, brought by co-chairs elect Grace Davis and Arya Tandon, comes in response to concerns voiced by members at a recent social event.

Davis told Cherwell: “The anti-police chants were not constructive to the protest, and fundamentally went against the values we hold as Labour members. “You can believe that there are institutional problems with the police whilst still condemning the abuse of individual police officers who are fundamentally just workers who deserve not to suffer abuse at work. “I’m really glad the membership of OULC agreed with me on this, and that the vote passed unanimously.”

The motion cited recent protests at the Oxford Union against the platforming of Marion Maréchal Le Pen and Steve Bannon. It condemned the decision to platform the far-right figures, but took issue with the behaviour of some people involved with the Le Pen protest.

The motion stated: “Police are working people who do not deserve to suffer abuse whilst working peacefully. […] At the Marion Marechal protest, police suffered abuse, such as being referred to as animals and as Nazis.” The move was interpreted as a factional swipe at the left by some members.

Former OULC Campaigns Officer Andrew Peak told Cherwell: “I wasn’t able to make the meeting, but I’m very concerned by this motion, and the fact that after seeing police get physical with protesters and protect Le Pen the proposers seem to take their side.

“The police exist to protect property relations and suppress the labour movement, and the idea that the same institution that attacked striking miners at Orgreave and shot Mark Duggan deserves our support is ludicrous.”

At the meeting, an amendent was added by OULC Social Secretary and Disabilities Rep Isabella Welch.

Welch told Cherwell: “I amended the motion to make it clear that OULC absolutely wants to criticise the police when it’s necessary and doesn’t distract from the main issues we’re protesting. “We are allowed to put forward anti-police chants when they are relevant and not filled with simple insults. “We shouldn’t forget that no government is guiltless of using the police to unjustly shut down strikes and protests (think of the docker strikes during the Atlee government), and OULC absolutely wants to reform and discuss the police in a constructive manner.”

OULC member and student activist Atticus Stonestrom, told Cherwell: “This motion utterly ignores the uniquely reactionary societal role that police play, and their pivotal contributions in shutting down labour unrest, infiltrating socialist groups, crush- ing strikes, and oppressing and dividing the working class.

“They are the most immediate repressive arm of the state, and thus by definition are a conservative force that protects the prevailing order and defends the propertied classes.

“Indeed racist violence and brutal strike-breaking aren’t a coincidence – they’re an inherent aspect of policing, and have been since its first modern incarnations in strike- breaking militias and armed slave patrols. “For OULC to pass a motion of this nature, which whitewashes not only the inherently oppressive nature of police in class society but also police aggression towards protestors at the Marechal talk – several of whom were violently thrown against walls or dragged into the street when attempting to form a peaceful picket – is shameful.”

At the time of the Le Pen demonstration, one of the organisers, Free Education Oxford said: “The police always bring in massive operations to protect openly fascist speakers and their tiny audiences, speakers who pose a material threat to members of our community.

“In November a similarly enormous police operation ensured Steve Bannon to speak, but the police stood by and watched as two stewards were physically attacked by neo-Nazis who had been emboldened by Bannon’s words. In January, when Marion Marcehal Le Pen came to speak, eight police vans, five horses and countless officers were used to restrict our rights to peacefully protest and to enable Le Pen to spread her hateful ideology.

“We’ve seen again and again that the police are not a neutral institution. They choose who to protect, and it is always the most hateful, the most dangerous elements of society.”

The motion was passed unanimously, although the number of members present only just fulfilled the quorum. Also on the agenda for the EGM, were a decision to campaign to repeal the Vagrancy Act and to make the Club’s finances publicly available at the request of any two members.

OULC to disaffiliate from Labour Students

0

Oxford University Labour Club has voted to disaffiliate from Labour Students, the body which formally links student clubs to the national party.

The decision comes as controversial elections begin, with many university Labour clubs, including Oxford Brookes, unable to vote.

Speaking to Cherwell, OULC co-chairs Owen Winter and Rosie Sourbut blamed the disaffiliation of Labour clubs across the country on incompetence by Labour Students’ national committee.

The speaker in favour of disaffiliation pointed to the disenfranchisement of all but one student Labour club in the North. Only one Scottish club will be represented at this weekend’s national conference.

The speaker described Labour Students as “irredeemable” and called for members to “burn it to the ground and salt the earth on which it stood”. She concluded her speech with the statement: “Nah, fuck this.”

No-one spoke against the motion, and the club voted unanimously not to renew affiliation after this year’s membership lapses in January.

OULC’s decision to disaffiliate takes place just days before elections are due to begin. Student Labour clubs in Dundee and Glasgow have called for the Labour Party to declare the results invalid.

Labour Students’ national committee have been accused of gerrymandering elections by using arcane rules to disaffiliate rival clubs. One-third of university Labour clubs have been disaffiliated since last year.

Zainab Mohammed, who is running for National Chair on the left-wing slate, told Cherwell: “Guidelines sent to clubs have been vague, confusing, and infrequent.

“The deadlines for affiliation, standing for election and delegation to conference were not made clear, so many longstanding clubs find themselves without a vote in these elections.

“A lot of these clubs messaged national committee about these issues, but they chose not to respond to the messages. The national committee were also sent out reminders before the deadline – that didn’t happen either.

“There is a clear pattern here – clubs voting for the left slate have been systematically barred. Many would be forgiven for thinking this is not a coincidence.

“Labour Students’ reputation has never been worse in the labour movement.”

A statement by Glasgow University Labour Club states: “We do not beleive it is a coincidence that while the [national committee] chased up the affiliation of some members, only clubs who supported the Labour Students Left slate in Scotland were uncontacted.”

OULC’s co-chairs told Cherwell: “We would like to extend our solidarity to Labour clubs – especially those in the North of England and Scotland, as well as Oxford Brookes Labour – which were disaffiliated this year after a lack of communication from the National Organisation of Labour Students.

“We hope that in future we will re-affiliate to Labour Students and we will have the opportunity to review tonight’s decision in Trinity term. This will not affect our participation in this year’s Labour Students elections or conference. We remain fully committed to the Labour Party as a whole as well as the Oxford and District Labour Party.”

Academics’ Wage Outrage

Tutorial Fellows at some colleges could face a £20,000 difference in their annual pay compared to other colleges, with the discrepancy being described as “scandalous and entrenched classism”.

Whilst at St John’s and New College the average remuneration for a Tutorial Fellow came to an estimated £49,333 and £40,637 respectively, at Lady Margaret Hall and Mansfield it was an estimated £21,076 and £22,116 respectively.

Since colleges do not distinguish between job type in their accounts, Cherwell estimated the average pay of Tutorial Fellows by finding the £10,000 salary bracket in which the greatest number of employees were being paid, and then dividing the gross remuneration by the number of employees.

One academic, who preferred to remain anonymous, told Cherwell: “The gross discrepancies in salary and benefits for tutorial fellows is entirely arbitrary and does not reflect merit, workload, achievements or prestige”.

Bursar of Christ Church College, James Lawrie, dismissed the calculations as “comparing apples and pears”, arguing that some colleges pay a higher proportion of their Fellows’ salaries, whilst others are paid more by the University.

However, one academic told Cherwell: “The discrepancies can be even larger than you indicate, given that some colleges give housing allowances upwards of £20,000, whole others give none at all”.

Cherwell understands that the differences in remuneration stems not only from absolute pay, but also from additional benefits offered by some colleges and included in the overall remuneration. These ‘taxable benefits’ include housing allowances, entertainment allowances, research allowances, and, in the case of colleges such as St John’s and New College, private health insurance.

An anonymous Tutorial Fellow told Cherwell: “I can con rm that the research allowance at my own college has been £500 for several years (although it is set to rise soon, it will not be nearly as high as at other colleges); the fact that the allowance is so low makes it impossible to cover the true cost of carrying out my research.”

They continued: “My research is just as good as [the academics at richer colleges], and I teach just as much. I was hired by Oxford University and to the outside world I am on an equal footing with my colleagues, but on my paycheck I’m not.

“The only reason I am paid less is because I happen to be a fellow at a poorer college and other Oxford colleges do not see fit to redistribute their wealth and share with others.”

An ‘entertainment allowance’ covers tutors’ costs incurred when hosting events for students, such as formal dinners, or other “necessary entertainment in connection with their office”.

In 2017, St John’s offered Tutorial Fellows £380 per year in entertainment allowance, whereas in the same year St Peter’s offered their Tutorial Fellows £264.

Most Oxford colleges are able to offer some form of housing allowance to compensate for high cost of housing in Oxford, but there is still a range in what is offered. These allowances can vary from a supplement to shared ownership of a house (shared equity).

Additionally, only some colleges offer ‘weighted hours” to accommodate for the number of students in a tutorial. In a ‘weighted’ scheme a tutorial hour spent teaching a group of three would be multiplied by 1.5 when it came to counting the number of salary hours.

This means in a college using ‘unweighted’ hours, a college lecturer would be paid £9, 838 for teaching a group of three four hours a week during term time. At a college using weighted hours, the equivalent amount of teaching would earn the tutor £14,757 for exactly the same work.

Another academic, who also wished to remain anonymous, suggested that managing to secure a fellowship at a wealthier college is “simply a matter of luck”.

They continued: “It would be frowned upon (against Oxford’s particular academic culture) for a current tutorial fellow at LMH, to apply for a tutorial fellowship at St John’s, were one to open up in their discipline. If that LMH tutor is dissatisfied with pay at LMH, they’ll have to leave Oxford altogether.”

In 2017, an applicant for the position of Associate Professor (most of which are associated with a tutorial fellowship) at St John’s could expect a housing allowance of £13,500 per year if they did not live in college. At Lady Margaret Hall, in 2016, an applicant to the same position could expect to receive £7,800 a year.

St John’s College bursar, Andrew Parker, told Cherwell: “Additionally [total remuneration] will depend on whether any of the people in the assembly you have formed have taken on extra responsibilities: Tutor for Women, Bursars, Senior Censor etc etc.”

Roles that receive additional payment at some colleges include Keeper of the Gardens, Librarian Fellow, and Editor of the college chronicle or newsletter. However, at colleges such as Mansfield, fellows take on these extra responsibilities but receive no additional payment for their efforts.

One academic said: “First, such additional tasks are often arduous and time-intensive, impeding quality work on required research and teaching duties. Second, the remuneration for such additional tasks is insignificant enough to be laughable.

“For a tutor at LMH to ‘catch up’ to a tutor at St John’s they would need to have a second tutorial fellowship (which is not possible) and then still do more work.”

Usually, any Associate Professor hired by the University is affiliated with a college as a tutorial fellow. Each year, an academic gains a ‘scale point’ with an according increase in salary, until they reach the top of their grade.

Speaking to Cherwell, an academic said “Another source of discrepancy is that, for joint appointees on UL contracts, not all colleges seem to ‘match’ the university contribution, and pay their staff on a lower pay grade than they have been appointed at on the university side.”

Humanities and Sciences lecturers are also paid differing proportions of their salary by the university, with the former receiving the majority of their salary from the College.

To counter this disparity, there have been calls for a standardisation of tutorial fellow pay across the University.

An academic told Cherwell: “Unfortunately, many tutorial fellows profit enormously from this established hierarchy and the wheels of change have been pain- fully slow to turn. Opening up the issue of discrepancies between fellows would open up all manner of conversations about how these hierarchies are manifested elsewhere across the university and there is simply no will to act on the part of wealthy colleges.”

The new College Contribution Scheme, intended to better redistribute college wealth, is set to be announced later this year. Academic remuneration is, of course, just another indicator of this disparity in wealth between Oxford colleges, and the question of the impact on student experience is something to be considered.

The need for prison reform

0

After the fall of the Berlin Wall, writer Semyon Lipkin recalled what it was like to live in a state defined by regular unjust imprisonment. “You didn’t just hate Stalin, you hated yourself. Because when your neighbours were being tortured and taken away in the night, you shut your eyes, you shut your ears and acted as though it wasn’t happening”. Today, even in countries we like to call liberal and democratic, our justice system remains fundamentally cruel. The United States has imprisoned 2.3 million of their citizens. Here in the UK , we have almost 100,000 people in jail, higher than any other EU country.

Consider for a moment what that means. It isn’t just to have every single decision you make – when you eat, when you sleep, when you socialise – taken out of your hands. It isn’t just to be confined to a small concrete cell. It is to be taken away from everyone you know and love for years or even decades, and to be placed in a confined, tense communal existence where violence is commonplace. For context; sexual violence in UK prisons has trebled since 2010, and over 31,000 prisoners in the UK reported mental health issues last year. On top of this, recent reports have repeatedly found prisons (especially those in the ‘B’ category) to be overrun with drugs, and infestations of rodents and insects.

The severity of prison suggests that the cases where it can justifiably be applied as a punishment are relatively few. The current reality is quite different – the possession of small quantities of illegal drugs, non-violent robbery and civil infractions like the non-payment of fines are just three minor crimes that commonly lead to prosecution and imprisonment. Of course these kinds of offences require some kind of response, but there are alternative systems available to us. Even with the more severe crimes, those that are either violent or lead to widespread harm in other ways (e.g drug smuggling), which could plausibly justify imprisonment, it is often far from clear that the prison system is the best or fairest way in which punished can be doled out.

The simplest alternative to prison is straightforward: fewer criminal prosecutions which end in a prison sentence. The rehabilitative record of prison is incredibly poor. Not only are education services within prison underfunded and under-attended, but the prevalence of drugs and the growing problem of radicalisation within prisons mean that the odds are you will leave prison far worse-off than you entered it. Even reforming these services, which seems unlikely in itself, is insufficient when you consider that leaving prison with a criminal record prohibits all but the most menial and low level employment for most. Unemployment breeds criminal behaviour, creating a vicious cycle which has trapped the 67% of American ex-convicts who re-offend.

Of course, the problem of deterrence remains, but it is misguided to think that prison is particular successful in this respect either. Most criminals don’t believe that they will be caught and so don’t rationally weigh up the consequences in the way deterrence arguments seem to suppose they do. Additionally, many criminals are victims of circumstance (especially when it comes to crimes like drug possession, low level dealing and non-violent robbery). The motivation to commit those crimes is often either an overwhelming need for income as a result of poverty or coercion at the hands of gangs. Of course some responsibility resides with the individuals concerned, but the point stands that for many people prison is simply not a deterrent when set against such desperate circumstances. On balance, the deterrent effect seems to be relatively insignificant, and we can support that claim with data comparing those states with particularly harsh penalties for drug possession (to take on example), and those that have stopped prosecuting that crime. Little change of any statistical significance emerges even when wildly harsher penalties are introduced, such as with the three strikes and mandatory minimums approach taken by the United States. Are punishments like prison are at all appropriate for these kinds of crimes? We should consider whether alternatives such as community service, fines and other civil penalties might be fairer. And where prison needs to be the final deterrent, it seems reasonable to use it sparingly; only imprisoning those who have been shown to be consistent repeat offenders, and where it is felt that imprisonment would be likely to prevent them causing future harm. Such circumstances are exceedingly rare. More controversially, some argue that reducing imprisonment rates in this way can be justified even if crime does increase moderately. Forcing the extraordinary harm of prison on fewer individuals, even if minor crimes do increase, is a price worth paying. Prison is disruptive, not just to individuals but to communities. Every person in prison, who could be a parent or a sibling or a child, is lost to those who know them. This isn’t just a tragedy, but has a knock on effect which destabilises communities by leaving families with less income and children without role models. Of the 2.3 million people imprisoned in the United States, roughly half are African American. Communities which are shattered by imprisonment become poorer, weaker, and far more vulnerable to drug abuse and rising crime rates. It is easy when discussing prison to overlook the range of less intrusive and more constructive alternatives available to governments. Community service is often mocked as ‘soft’ punishment. What does and doesn’t constitute a ‘soft’ punishment seems both arbitrary and unimportant. What matters is that community service is a straightforward way for states to deter their citizens from doing bad things, and to monitor them so that they are far less likely to break the law, whilst avoiding many of the problems of imprisoning them. But there’s even more to be said for implementing new kinds of enforced state education. An expansion of reskilling and re-education programs, whether conventional forms of academic education or vocational courses (i.e BTEC-style qualifications), whilst simultaneously making attendance mandatory, would likely benefit the country even on economic grounds alone.

Given that crime is often born from economic desperation, a response to crime which offers greater economic opportunity seems appropriate. But what’s more, it is important in the context of social factors that drive crime. Particularly in areas where criminal activity is high, it is an error to approach crime as though it consisted of a series of spontaneous and essentially unrelated actions. Rather, there are social structures (i.e gangs) that facilitate and encourage criminality within these communities. Why is that? Money, of course, but also a system where, in the absence of other forms of success, self-worth is derived from doing well within the context of gang hierarchies. Committing crimes doesn’t just lose its taboo, but becomes both desirable and necessary from a social point of view.

Offering greater education allows individuals the chance to escape those coercive social pressures which constitute the oft-mentioned but rarely analysed ‘gang culture’. Sometimes those opportunities are very straightforward – better education means a better job which means the economic means to leave the areas which previously trapped them. Even if they don’t leave entirely and retain their ties to these areas, when they have a better education and therefore can get a better job, it becomes less likely they will risk reoffending because they simply have much more to lose if they get caught. Educating someone and allowing them to change to improve their own standing also provides an alternative means by people judge their self-worth and social standing.

That isn’t as abstract a claim as it might seem at first, because it’s easy to imagine someone who previously felt valued only in the context of a gang but now is valued as a well-educated employee, without any of the sacrifices and constraints placed upon them by gangs. Of course this won’t happen in all cases and of course some people will re-offend, but at least mandatory education offers some kind of mechanism by which people can be rehabilitated. Locking people up, denying them the chance to learn and often forcing them to join new gangs within prison for their own protection, and then sending them on their way with a criminal record which will deny them any future employment surely makes the odds that someone returns to crime far far higher. Civil penalties and mandatory education could often be paired together. A deterrent exists, albeit more moderate, but significantly rehabilitation is far more likely than in conventional prison systems.

We can see that there are many approaches other than imprisonment that are currently available to us. But we can be even more optimistic about future possibilities. British citizens are arguably the most watched in the world, given the density of CCTV cameras and tracking via our various devices. Now, it is up for discussion as to whether more intense surveillance can be justified in general. It seems reasonable to suggest that it is justified in cases where there is suspicion that someone might do something wrong, and that suspicion is justified in the case of most criminals.

Imagine, for a moment, what kinds of developments we can expect in the next 20 years. At the very least, currently available methods of tracking will become more numerous and more refined. But on top of that, we should also expect new kinds of technolog y become more prevalent – most obviously non-invasive tracking devices of the kind already used by many U.S states (i.e. ankle trackers) and to some extent in the UK .

These devices prevent any realistic chance of getting away with a crime, and so fulfil the duty governments have to protect the general population from people who have previously been a danger to them. ‘Open prisons’, where prisoners are meant to live like ordinary citizens and are allowed significant time away from the prison after they’ve served part of their sentence, are used far more prolifically in much of Scandinavia. As a result, Norway has one of the lowest recidivism rates in the world, at around 20%, whereas around 60% of short-sentenced prisoners in the UK will re-offend. This kind of programme will only become safer as technology progresses.

As important, if not more important, are developments in psychological testing. It’s important to remember, as I have tried to show throughout this article, that not all crimes are committed for the same reason. Some crimes come from genuine psychological imbalances, the most famous of which is psychopathy. Some crimes are a response to circumstances of poverty. Some are crimes of passion, or come about as a result of abuse. It is simply false to assume that all crimes are manifestations of someone’s absolute character. In reality, of course that character changes hugely over time, and the current system of poorly informed and irregular parole board meetings seems bizarre.

Psychological testing is even now a new and imperfect science. But the potential scope for its use in criminal justice seems immense. Rather than relying on spurious claims of someone being a ‘changed man’ or of someone seeming remorseful at a parole hearing, we could use data to assess how likely they are to commit a crime. This isn’t just applicable to deciding when to allow someone out of jail, but also when we’re deciding whether to put them in. Under the status quo, judges are told to consider mitigating or wider circumstances.

Surely that principle extends to considering the psychological state of those they are putting away. Sentencing for the same crime should be dependent on why someone committed the crime – only then will we know how much blame should be attributed to that person. This also removes many of racial and class biases that go into sentencing, and means that less privileged minorities often face additional disadvantages when in the dock.

We can’t easily predict what the future holds technologically. Some of these innovations are effectively available now, some won’t be for many years. But the core point remains – we should be far more radical in pursuing criminal justice reforms to limit unnecessary cruelty and to benefit society as a whole, instead of falsely assuming draconian punishment is an effective or worthwhile means of reducing crime.

Jeff Koons: A world of Paradoxes

0

Pocketed in the Ashmolean is the world of paradox that is Jeff Koons’ exhibition. The first room introduces his work as we are met by the famed One Ball Total Equilibrium Tank. The quintessentially American basketball provides the familiar, yet this is combined with the strange as we observe the unnerving impossibility of how the ball hangs neither sinking nor floating in the water. The intentional reminiscence of the womb in the piece leaves a sense of invasive intimacy backdropping the stardom associated with the basketball. Such paradoxes breed intrigue that is only enhanced by the next sculpture – Rabbit. The contrast here comes in the innocence of the subject, a child’s toy, against the unsettling nature of its immense scale and the eerie facelessness of steel. Even its stance seems somewhat fierce; a carrot gripped menacingly seamlessly reimagines itself as a weapon. Where Rabbit falls flat is Koons’ insinuation that the contrast lies in femininity and masculinity (with steel representing the masculine and reflection the feminine) an outdated idea of male strength and female vanity. Despite this crumbling beneath a more modern outlook of gender stereotypes, other unsettling contrasts still remain.

In the third piece, Ushering in Banality, we stumble upon a paradox that inhibits Koons’ message. As he blows up a trinket of two children pushing a pig into an enormous and garish sculpture he risks diluting his intentions and heralding ‘low’ art – the art of trinkets and mass production. Koons continues to bring artwork of all natures to the same level as he blows up more trinkets into balloon figures, for example in the form of his Ballerinas. Yet whilst this can be perceived as fault, the blurring distinction between high and low art is what keeps us intrigued, and not only by the subject but by how we approach it and how we regard the oppositions; one of Koons’ main ideas is that without the perceivers there can be no art.  

Points in history are connected and revived in the second room, as Koons creates Venus, inspired by an ancient figure of fertility. The material brings an ancient piece to modernity, yet the subject threads us to the past. Here, the discomfort lies in the overt sexuality of the figure and its brash violent pink against the childhood innocence associated with balloons. Our distorted image is reflected back to us as it towers above and swells into space. Again, the effect is not of distinct appreciation or repulsion, but rather intrigue. The same can be said of the stark and almost jarring contrast that arises in his Antiquity pieces as he layers classical sculptures with other elements from modern works, which themselves echo different periods of the past.

The final room of Koons’ exhibition gives less of an impact. Gazing balls are placed arbitrarily on ledges which extend from the pieces and distract from beautiful copies of works from history. Here, my intrigue lay in admiration of the original works, rather than any addition Koons himself had made. Koons wants us to become pensive as we reflect on ourselves in the centre of the pieces, yet to see ourselves gazing back inhibits the power of the original works in which we no longer are permitted to become lost. Reusing work from the past takes away from that alien place Koons’ work seems to occupy. Thus, in the final room the paradoxes that fundamentally generate intrigue in Koons’ work are not present. The exhibition can be seen to falter, but this in itself is a contrast to the rest of the experience thus far and so reveals what we appreciate most in Koons’ work is its strangeness and new approach to art.

The UCU strikes, one year on

0

February 22nd 2019 will mark one year since the start of the university strikes against pension cuts. The strikes were the biggest in UK higher education history, bringing 42,000 staff onto the streets in protest. Nearly 575,000 teaching hours were lost, and more than a million students were affected. The UCU (University and Colleges Union) brought 61 universities to a complete standstill.

Among students, the strikes were often reduced to an inconvenience, with lecture schedules in disarray, labs cancelled, and streets blocked. One Oxfess labelled the strikes “pointless”; another begged that those striking “kindly [f**ked] off”. The motivations behind the strike seemed complex and inaccessible, the results unclear and non-specific.

But for staff, the strikes were necessary, an essential response to the new pension plan, set by the USS (University Superannuation Scheme Trustee) and decided by the JNC (Joint Negotiating Committee between the UCU and the USS). The plan, proposed in late 2017, would have changed the pensions of the vast majority of those working in higher education, demanding higher contributions and forcing an end to defined benefits (among other changes, including the removal of the 1% match on the USS Investment Builder). In short, the new plan offered a lower pension at a higher cost. The UCU predicted that pensions could be cut by £10,000 a year during retirement.

“The pension issue created this great fury and strike and dispute,” Peter Hill, the former Oxford UCU president, explained. “What was proposed at the start by the USS was a big cut to pensions in one go. This was not just an incremental year-on-year gradual erosion of benefits.”

In Oxford, the experience of those striking was unique. Their impact was both assisted, and inhibited, by the way in which the university functions. They were assisted because the University’s Council Secretariat (also known as Congregation, a kind of parliament for university staff) met during the action, and voted to maintain current pension standards, regardless of the USS decision. On the other hand, none of the colleges “recognise” the UCU, meaning staff could not strike against the college parts of their contract. College teaching had to continue. Hill’s frustration was clear: “It’s a problem, it’s something we have tried to raise many, many times, but the colleges are a law unto themselves.”

Oxford’s UCU, and its members, still feel the impact of the strikes. Hill talks of the growth of the branch (“over 50% in terms of numbers”), while Svenja Kunze, the Vice President, refers to a “renewed energy”, with people “becoming more engaged with the union and taking part in all kinds of working groups and campaigns.” “During the strikes themselves,” Hill adds, “you had lots of academics coming together and talking to each other in ways that hadn’t really happened before and a collective spirit of getting together and discussing common problems.”

The energy and passion stirred up by the strikes enabled the branch to strengthen their representative structure (whereby their members can choose to become a point of contact for specific groups or departments in the university). It is now the biggest in the UK. The branch is also using its energy to involve itself with the creation and development of national policy; to this end, Jaya John, the current president, explained, the branch has “been calling twice as many general meetings as usual.”

Work by groups such as Oxford’s UCU has meant that national policy has experienced rapid development in the past year. Following the strikes, the USS and UCU organised a Joint Expert Panel (JEP) which reassessed the valuation of pension schemes and looked for the best way forward. The JEP considered the two opposing positions. The USS had argued that the pension fund would cost more to maintain in future, because it wanted to invest in low-risk (more expensive) ventures, after a consultation with universities. This meant it would require higher contributions from staff (and from employers). However, the UCU urged the USS to keep its funds in high risk (less expensive) ventures, so that their level of contribution would not need to change. The JEP supported the UCU position.

In a statement on the JEP’s decision, the USS commented: “There may well be areas where our opinion and understanding differs from that of the panel but we will want to reflect on the report in due course. The views of stakeholders will also be required before we can derive any conclusions.” They added: “Ultimately, its proposed solutions reflect the panel’s terms of reference, but would require employers to take on higher levels of risk – and to pay higher contributions – than has been expressed to us to date, through the valuation process… Unless and until an alternative has been agreed, consulted upon, and implemented, cost sharing remains the default process for addressing the regulatory and legal obligations of the 2017 valuation.” The full statement can be read on the USS website.

The JEP’s findings are currently under consultation. If accepted, employees and employers could avoid any increase in contribution, and any loss in benefits (the UCU’s ideal, and official, position, known as ‘no detriment’). The University was unwilling to comment on the consultation but did release their response: an uncontroversial and ultimately meaningless statement that it hopes to avoid “the significant contribution increases currently expected” and welcome the USS actuarial valuation in March.

This year, however, the focus has shifted onto pay. Many staff have lost “pay due to sub inflation and pay rises over the last ten years”, John explains. Hill added, “Workload is rising while pay in real terms goes down. It shows you how university managements tend to undervalue the labour that university employees are putting in. Redressing that balance is the main agenda the national pay dispute at the moment.” John also suggested that the “increased marketisation of the sector,” had led “vice chancellors to build more buildings and facilities” rather than investing in staff and teaching for university students. “People make the university,” Kunze said, “they should be valued for the work they do.”

The national pay dispute also aims to address pay inequalities and the casualization of university contracts. A previous Cherwell report highlighted the problem of casualization (when university staff are moved onto casual or short term contracts); 76.9% of academics were in precarious jobs as of 2016, as opposed to the national average of 50.9%. The gender pay gap is a similarly significant problem: in 2016, Oxford’s male academics earned an average of £7,626 more than women (well above the national average of £5,983).

The gender pay gap also varies between colleges; at New, it is reported to be as high as 24.3%, while at Magdalen, female staff could expect to receive just 2% less than their male counterparts. But there are other disparities to be addressed: as Kunze noted, “once we have all the methodology and all the data, we are extending that to look at other pay inequalities [such as] the ethnicity pay gap.”

The dispute itself follows a series of meetings with the University and College Employers Association (UCEA), with whom the UCU negotiates pay. In such meetings, John claimed that “the employers negotiate[d] in bad faith” and described the pay offers as “very low, much lower than inflation” (a view strongly rejected by the UCEA, who instead described the meetings as ‘constructive’, and the pay offer as ‘very good’).

This isn’t the first time that negotiations between the UCU and the UCEA have gone sour. The UCU went on strike against their employers in 2011; they also called for a marking boycott, following a failure to provide a “proper pay offer for 2013-14.” The tensions are historic, the implications significant. But if the UCEA will only negotiate fairly when, as Hill says, they are “conscious of the possibility of strikes on the other side of the negotiating table”, then what choice do the UCU have? As John explained, “we don’t want to harm people’s teaching and learning. But at the end of the day to make the sector sustainable in the long run, we are regrettably arriving at this through the intransigence of the employers.”

We are all invested in an effective and sustainable higher education system, Hill agrees, “it’s not like we have any malicious wish to damage people’s education, but I think some university managements and governance in the past have been fairly successful in driving a wedge between student bodies and staff on that kind of issue, and I think it’s important to see the common interest in a fair and sustainable higher education sector between staff and students.”

If the ballot calls for it (with more than half the votes in favour), there could be further higher education strikes in March or April following the end of the ballot on 22nd February. But industrial action would only be possible as long as the strike ballot was open, meaning that it could occur any time up to six months in the future. As John comments, there would have to be a “national conversation about the best time to strikes.”

The risk with such strikes is that student opinion moves against university staff, particularly following the long strikes last year. Strikes, necessary to the achievement of change, become vilified. John emphasised the significance of student support, saying: “I’d like to take the opportunity to say thanks so much to everyone for your support during the USS strikes, it made such an important difference to us to know that we enjoyed your support. It takes quite a vision of not just “what’s happening to me and my degree and this time?”, but to take a step back and say that that’s important for the whole sector, that’s a vision you can’t always count on, so it’s very much appreciated.”

Heading into February, we are on the verge of great change. The strike ballot is open, the pensions consultation is in process. The pay gap, pensions and the casualisation of contracts: the situation could be completely different by the end of the month. There is the opportunity to enact a huge shift in the way in which university employers treat their staff, academic or otherwise. All that there’s left to do is wait, see and support.

Who can afford such an indulgence: Cheap shots at expensive degrees

0

Last week, The Economist took it upon itself to settle once and for all the debate around which of your mates ‘does a real degree’, which can usually be found bubbling away on Oxfess. ‘Graphic Detail’, a data analysis feature which has previously considered “the retreat of global democracy” and “which countries are most likely to fight wars”, was dedicated on January 26th to a brutal assessment of Oxbridge graduate earnings, summarised with the tagline “high-scoring students leave £500,000 on the table by eschewing economics”.

Noting that undergrads at “elite” universities are more likely to study purely academic fields, the article suggests that “employers treat a degree from a top university as a proxy for intelligence”, allowing Oxbridge students with non-vocational degrees to “squeak by financially” on the prestige of their alma mater.

The giddy attacks on an elitist Oxbridge, kept afloat by “rich parents” whose progeny can afford to turn their noses up at an economics degree for a trifling a half-mil per year, are made in a strikingly personal, even hypocritical manner, reducing the issue to a caricature at the expense of any considered or original commentary on the access issue.

The data is there, but it’s swaddled and distorted by condescending, sarcastic language, with attendant implications of a baselessly snobbish Oxbridge that is painted in rich and scathing detail across the piece.

The economics degree is constantly referenced as a benchmark for financial security, the ‘responsible’ choice of qualification; the reader is invited to deplore the injustice that an average Cambridge arts grad earns the same as an economics student at “less exalted” Hull, solely on the merit of their institutional privilege. Having warmed up with subtler potshots like this, and the reference to Oxbridge attendance as a “proxy” for rather, than evidence of, intelligence, the author throws restraint to the wind and informs us that “Oxbridge students can pretend to read “Ulysses” for years and still expect a decent salary”. From here, the article descends into berating arts students with good A levels for not applying for more lucrative- you guessed it- economics degrees.

It seems The Economist is unable to grasp the concept that not everyone wants to study their namesake discipline or that some people select their degree for reasons aside from “employability” and their future salaries.

This extreme lack of nuanced perspective extends to its treatment of student demographics. Oxbridge has real and continuing access problems, especially in the humanities, many of which are best applied for with A-levels now available only in private schools, closing the opportunity to study them off from all but the most privileged elites.

Despite positioning itself as an enemy of institutional elitism, the article encourages the narrow view that ‘only poshos take Oxbridge arts degrees’, an exclusionist line that undermines efforts such as #ThereIsAPlaceForYouHere and theTarget mentorship programme.

By leaning on such discouraging stereotypes, and neglecting any mention of students who aren’t “from richer parts of Britain”, the piece helps to perpetuate the problem it outwardly criticises.

In depicting Oxbridge as a den of pampered toffs who can neglect practical qualifications in favour of sponging off daddy, the author implies that students rely on the nepotism and privilege of their upbringing, to which their university is an accessory. While unfortunately this stereotype has roots in truth, it’s certainly not limited to Oxbridge.

Look at the current Duke of Westminster, with his £9bn fortune and 2.1 in Country- side Management from Newcastle. Here, once again, the article stumbles over its maddening inability to understand that not everyone wants to study economics. Ever ready to criticise humanities students’ poor financial judgements, the author refuses to acknowledge that for people with a passion for the humanities, studying at a prestigious university is the more ‘pragmatic’ financial route, and that an Oxbridge degree might actually be a means of increasing, rather than squandering, one’s hypothetical salary.

Instead, the fact that Cambridge arts grads earn £26k more than their contemporaries at Wrexham Glyndwr is used as a belittling comparison to the £44k gulf between Cambridge economics grads and those of Salford.

The article utterly ignores the possibility that less privileged students might be interested in the arts as well, erasing them from the debate and further en- forcing the exclusionary stereotype. The piece offers one patronising concession to the foolhardy, spoilt arts student. While many such feeble-minded individuals “would struggle to crunch numbers”, the few who can, but have chosen not to pursue this to degree level, are castigated for wasting their intelligence on the humanities – the final nail in the coffin for the piece’s implicit suggestion that humanities student are intellectually inferior.

The case for human extinction

0

“A person would have to be delusional to appreciate existence”,“life is a net negative” and “existence perpetuates suffering” is just some of the festive wisdom Diane Brandy imparted on me over the Christmas vac. No, she’s not an Oxford student in the grips of a pre-collections crisis: she’s a subscriber to the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement (VHEMT).

The VHEMT, as Vonnegutesque as it sounds, is essetially an environmentalist movement, albeit with a slightly darker premise than going veggie or litter-picking. It has its roots in the ‘60s and ‘70s, when nuclear testing and use of carcinogenic insecticides by the U.S government spawned the likes of Greenpeace, and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). The movement was given its name in 1991 by Les U. Knight, its most high-profile activist to date; even his name, if you say it quickly enough, is a piece of subliminal propaganda. One of the most common rumours which swirls around the VHEMT is that it’s a suicide cult – it’s not. It’s not even an organisation, let alone a cult. Voluntary-human-extinction is a philosophy, set of beliefs, lifestyle more than anything else, revolving around stewardship of the planet. What are the tenets of the VHEMT? Is there some truth in the movement’s beliefs or is it just nonsensical pessimism? Does it actually offer a solution to environmental issues?

The movement’s tenets are hard to define; they don’t really have any. The VHEMT isn’t an organisation, it’s a disorganisation. Its lively Facebook community, with nearly 9,000 members, hasn’t accepted anyone new in 2 years. Its website hasn’t been updated since its creation – the formatting is quite medieval. The movement’s official newspaper, ‘The Exit Times’, was discontinued in 1994, after only three issues. In short, there is no definitive list of the movement’s beliefs. The Facebook group is a forum for everything from articles entitled ‘If Spiders Worked Together, They Could Eat All Humans In Just One Year’, to anti-pornography activism and contraception advertisements. Perhaps the only recurring theme which cuts through the eclectic swamp of posts is that of antinatalism. This philosophy is a convoluted jumble of anti-affirmative ethics, negative utilitarianism and Kantian imperatives – whatever that means. Fundamentally, antinatalism is the belief that having children is harmful, and thus implicitly that the Earth is overpopulated. Hence the idea of human extinction. The VHEMT’s slogan is “May we live long and die out”. But harmful to what? While many environmentalists agree humans are harmful to the Earth’s ecology, some hardcore antinatalists go a step further.

Over the Christmas vacation, I spoke to Diane “Childfree” Brandy, an avid antinatalist, vegan, animal rights activist and VHEMT subscriber from Pennsylvania. She represents many of the views on the antinatalist-extinctionist spectrum.

Diane left me under no illusion that humans are cause of environmental degradation, with statements like “the only way to spare suffering to our species and that which is done to other species by mankind is to stop reproducing” and “mankind has been harmed and harmful since the beginning”.

She’s not wrong. Despite claims that climate change is an organic process, the result of natural warming in an interglacial period, or even, ahem, a hoax by the Chinese government (as Trump has suggested), it’s irrefutable that human activity is at the crux of this environmental cataclysm. Global atmospheric temperatures are fast approaching 1.5 °C above pre-industrial levels, as the concentration of ‘greenhouse’ carbon-dioxide gas in the atmosphere increases. Massive anthropogenic emission of CO2 and reduction of biospheric carbon sequestration mean we are on a course to reach 2 °C above pre-industrial levels within decades.Coral reefs will ‘bleach’ and die as ocean temperatures and acidity increase, depriving millions of species of their habitat. The half-billion human beings who rely on coral reefs for protection from tropical storms, for food or employment, would see their livelihoods threatened. The global rate of eustatic sea-level rise has already decupled since the 1990s to an average of 3 mm a year, but reaching as much as 10mm in the Pacific Ocean; Asia-Pacific is home to 60% of the world’s population. Ironically, unchecked global warming could plunge north and western Europe into an ice-age. Glacial meltwater off the coast of Greenland dilutes and desalinises the water of the Gulf Stream, which gives western Europe its temperate climate, slowing it down by 20% already in the last 50 years. Humanity’s so-called stewardship of the planet has been the antithesis for centuries. Diane’s argument, which she suggests is a maxim of any antinatalist or human-extinctionist, is logical and scientifically proven. Earth and the environment would be better off without its bipedal tyrants.

That’s where the logic ended. From here onwards Diane’s VHEMT philosophy strayed from science to the realms of depressing misanthropy. I found it striking that, while she raised the issue of humanity’s impact on the environment, her focus always turned back to humanity’s impact on itself. For a self-identified environmentalist and animal activist, the human predicament seems to take surprising primacy over the environmental. Diane certainly cares about nature, and animals, having “rescued dogs and cats for over two decades”. She describes them as “vulnerable and voiceless” while calling her stance towards human welfare “indifferent”. She went on to say “It’s impossible to be vegan as we all inadvertently kill insects and mammals…because of massive amounts of animal slaughter globally and domestic pet euthanasia rates in my country alone, this is a major reason that I want humans to become extinct”.

The mention of animals and the environment seem just interlaced into, and secondary to, her belief in self-perpetuated human suffering. Diane believes that voluntary human extinction, a mass abstinence from procreation until humankind dies out naturally, would “do humans a favour” as much as it would alleviate environmental problems.

Part of this is what Diane calls the “tragedy of the birth”, a central antinatalist belief that birth and procreation is selfish and negative and that children are hauled unfairly into a world of suffering, almost as a pet for their parents to love, and receive unconditional love back. “The child’s birth, suffering and eventual death was not consensual” and “parents should be fully accountable for their offspring’s welfare and financial needs till death” indicate how in the eyes of the VHEMT, procreation is criminal. When I asked Diane how she justifies this view, she gave me her rendition of life as a hopeless struggle: “growing numbers are seeing the rawness of reality. Get up, shower, go to work after being in traffic, spend your youth in the workforce, take heed that animals suffered and were slaughtered for your meal, drive home, pay bills, resolve tension at home with the children, go to the doctor, worry and die”.

Perhaps her views stem from somewhere else entirely. When I asked about her religious orientation, she replied: “for the most part I was raised with religion. I eventually rejected it because it wasn’t logical. Antinatalism is logical”. Les U. Knight writes on the VHEMT website: “We call The Movement VHEMT, but it’s undoubtedly been given other names throughout history. None have been recorded, as far as we know.” In fact, antinatalist, VHEMT-esque thinking can be traced back to one of the oldest and most seminal texts of all: the Bible. In chapter six of Genesis, it says that “God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth” and “it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth”. Then “the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth”. Luckily for us, Noah convinces God to spare his family alone. Misanthropy is an irrefutable theme in many religions, as well as philanthropy, incorporating ideas such as original sin, and cause each other as well as themselves suffering.

So why does this phenomenon of someone “losing one’s faith”exist? Diane rejected her faith out of a pessimism for humanity, refuting religion as illogical compared to the rationality of antinatalism. Yet her own ‘logical’ beliefs and some of the core ideas of religion intertwine. Some religions posit that human beings have great capacity for evil, and for causing damage, as well as for good. In believing in the former, in a sense, Diane hasn’t entirely rejected her faith. Rather, like many, her beliefs align with religion selectively. In her indictment of humans and human life, she sounds more like someone who has lost faith than a passionate environmentalist, with views as uncoupled from rationality as the Bible she calls illogical. Many of her beliefs seem more emotional than logical. Ironically, her claim that “a person would have to be delusional to appreciate existence” seems itself delusional.

But Diane’s views do not represent that of all VHEMT supporters, and certainly not those of the movement’s figurehead, Les U. Knight. Living somewhere along the Willamette River in Oregon, U.S.A., he lists his personal information on the VHEMT website. His religious orientation is “Eclectic”, drawing on the Christian Golden Rule – treat others how you wish to be treated and other “nice stuff like that”. His political stance is anarchism; not in the pejorative sense of anarchy, but rather the rejection of a controlling government and hierarchy. He describes himself as being part of the “human family” which has “over seven billion members”. He sounds like a humanist, and this is reflected in his brand of antinatalism, which he calls “pro-human”. His definition of VHEMT philosophy is a “simple train of logic, guided by love, and [arriving] at the conclusion that Gaia would be better off without humans”. He doesn’t even insist, like Diane, that “many parents are in denial over their resentment over having children”, instead saying of people who have already had children that “there is no reason to feel guilty about the past”. He summarises the role of a VHEMT subscriber as: “they don’t pressure their children to give them grandchildren and might encourage them to make a responsible choice with their fertility”. On balance, Les is almost the polar opposite of Diane: he values rather than denounces humans, takes a tolerant view towards non-antinatalists, and emits a hopefulness rather than a despair toward the human race. In this positive, less human-hating form, VHEMT appears more logical, more environmental, and less mental. In any case, the stark differences between Les and Diane’s VHEMT views show just how vague and personalised it is as a concept. The 9,000 people in the movement’s Facebook group – and perhaps many thousands of supporters worldwide – are like moths, each with their own perspective and life experience, attracted to the shining light of antinatalism. But what attracts them to it, and to Voluntary Human Extinction, can vary dramatically. Are they all attracted to it for the right reasons?

Misanthropy certainly doesn’t feel like the right reason, or the reason Les intended, for supporting human extinction. A genuine concern for the environment, does. But though Knight’s philanthropic, environmentalist beliefs are quite rational and convincing, there is a central flaw in antinatalism, and thus in VHEMT. There is an assumption that people can just stop having children. This has more than a tinge of white middle-class privilege about it. The developing world doesn’t always have the privilege of readily-available, cheap contraception. In parts of the developing world, the deficit in female emancipation means some women cannot assert control of their own biology. In countries like Uganda, where 75% of the population are in primary occupations, mostly working on farms, where state welfare for the elderly is non-existent, children are almost a necessity. Conversely, in the developed western world, it really costs to have children. A recent article in The Guardian (‘Is having five children really a middle-class status symbol?’) satirises the idea of having a higher number of children as a symbol of status. It places the cost of children at “about £150,000 a child” in the UK. Whether you think children have been commodified into ‘wealth trophies’ by an exhibitionist middle-class or not, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that parts of the developing world can’t afford not to have children, while in the developed world it is a matter of who can afford them. We have the capacity, and choice, to abstain. Financially, it even makes sense. Ultimately antinatalism is a luxury billions cannot afford, and the idea that everyone should just stop reproducing, as simply as that, feels almost pompous.

For me, the VHEMT and its twin philosophy, antinatalism,certainly contain a degree of reason. Especially when considering the toxicity of human activity to the natural world, and its major role in what feels like the insurmountable threat of climate change. Then again, any great human mission seems insurmountable…until it’s surmounted. Voluntary human extinction feels overwhelmingly defeatist. It appears a sensible course of action only for the exhausted environmentalist or the misanthropic nihilist, and seems to attract mostly the latter. Les U. Knight’s cheery environmentalist and philanthropic rationalism doesn’t change the fact that he’s given up. Anybody who subscribes to VHEMT is proverbially abandoning ship. The ship being deep ecology, sustainable living, the Paris Agreement, and technological innovations like carbon-capture storage. Les U. Knight says that parents shouldn’t feel guilty for having children in the past, because “guilt doesn’t lead to positive solutions”. Nor does admitting defeat. Though the movement is by no means organised or popular, it is international, and highlights an intensifying pessimism towards our environmental predicament. Pessimism isn’t productive, and is hardly the remedy needed to combat climate change and pressure on natural resources.

This, I suppose, is where Oxford students should come in. Allegedly this is quite a good university, and seeing as we, in our carbon-emitting, (predominantly) meat-eating existence, are part of the problem, we might as well attempt to fix it. Instead of turning to movements grounded in unproductive, self-pitying, and often very questionable philosophy, this generation needs to devise a solution, or at least a mitigation to threats such as climate change, be it scientific, social or political. It’s either that, or pick up a Slipknot album from HMV and book that vasectomy. Your choice…

Made in Dagenham Review – ‘a fight that will affect women for generations to come’ –

0

Over dinner, my friend and I both questioned whether the addition of music to the storyline, in Made in Dagenham, would trivialise the issue the musical seeks to address – gender pay equality.

Arguably, however, in director Miranda Mackay’s Made in Dagenham, the music and singing makes the characters and the devotion to equal pay more real. In their solo performances, you can visibly hear how important this issue is to them. Connie, played by Isabella Gilpin, has devoted her whole life to this cause, and the power behind Gilpin’s singing reflects this.

The music throughout is used not to trivialise but to give these women a voice, and the accompaniment of the ensemble, and band, demonstrates how Rita and the Ford Dagenham women are fighting not for themselves, but the average woman, embodied and symbolised by the ensemble. Theirs is a fight that will affect women for generations to come.

Regarding costume design, the uniformity of the outfits the working men and women in Dagenham wear are a symbol of their dependence on the Ford factory for employment. More poignantly, however, they demonstrate the unity that the women – and, indeed, the men – at Dagenham, have for one another.

But whilst the men are resigned to their ‘blue collared’ outfits, it is clear from the start that these women are fighting to break this mould. Rita’s yellow dress reflects the yellow wallpaper in her house; she is a family woman, and her fight is not only for her, but more importantly, her family’s futures.

It is evident that despite this solidarity, these women have their own unique identities. This fight may be for equal pay, but these actresses make it clear that these women are all unique. They will not be confined to the homogeneity that the Ford management want them to so desperately preside within, and they are all distinct individuals.

Ellie Thomas, as Claire, is convincingly scatty but her singing and performance are powerful. She persuades us that Claire is unashamed of who she is – she doesn’t care what the other girls, or indeed, anyone thinks. Similarly, Grace Albery as Sandra accuses Monty of being useless, but does so unashamedly with a visible tone of sarcasm. She is brash, brazen, but most importantly, she is brave.

David Garrick’s portrayal of Harold Wilson was comical (pipe and all), but he hadn’t quite got the Huddersfield accent right. Yet somehow the fact his accent was not quite right mirrored Wilson’s presence in the play – slightly out of place.

The music throughout heightened the intensity of the plot but when Wilson appears on stage, he is at odds with the music, battling with it – not embracing the music, like the other characters. This demonstrates what Made in Dagenham is all about, and what it’s not about. It’s not about politicians, or corporate slime-balls. It is about the average man. Or more truthfully, the average woman.

Garrick, as Wilson, and indeed, De Giorgi, as Mr Hopkins, Ford Dagenham’s Managing Director, play into their roles as uncaring, compassionless politicians and capitalists well. Their verbose, ostentatious displays are compelling, to the extent that the audience is determined not to like them.

But not liking them doesn’t mean we can’t laugh at them. Despite the seriousness of the topic, this production of Made in Dagenham is oddly funny, without undermining the fundamental message. That we laugh at Mr Hopkins’ attempts to appease Henry Ford, or Wilson’s womanising, is testament to the actors’ abilities to play these characters with conviction. The audience’s laughter parallels the laughter of these men in response to the request for equal pay – they trivialise it, they see it as a joke.

And the set design reinforces this. A Ford sign looms ominously over the stage for most of the entire first half, as if the eye of God is watching over these workers. It seems unlikely that these women will ever achieve the gender equality or the C grade they want. The staging decision, with a series of stairs, and a platform above, leave the management peering over the women in their uncomfortable, hot factory. Mackay’s decisions for the stage starkly shows the disparity and inequality between the men and the women.

But by the end, Rita, played by Maddy Page, has climbed the stairs, and delivers her speech to 3,000 trade union members. The positioning of Rita, and her husband, Eddie, played by Eoghan McNeils, at the end of the play is powerfully poignant. Rita is on the step above, but her and Eddie are now the same height. Her fight for equality has symbolically been achieved.

Music and the Comeback Kids

0

The year is 2007 and Take That are back, ‘Shine’ is in the charts, Mark Owen is finally getting the recognition he deserves. Later that year, the Spice Girls announce their own reunion. It’s two years since Busted split, and nine-year-old me is wondering if they will ever return. And of course, as is the cyclic nature of pop music – wanting to cling to fame and the worry of dwindling royalty cheques – these stars all come back to us, eventually.

There are a generation of young kids waiting for One Direction to return. Inevitably, they will. Probably, just as Take That did, without their Robbie. Harry Styles will push further into acting, and the other four will have to reunite, as Celebrity Big Brother has been cancelled. They will be balding, and one will probably go through a tax-scandal before we are told once more that we’re beautiful.

Despite the sell-out stadium tours and profitable merchandise, musical comebacks are never quite as good as the original thing was. I remember seeing McBusted in 2014. It was incredible, but only because they were singing the classics. Year 3000 and Obviously were highlights, but now that Busted have reformed with the original three bandmates, I am completely disinterested. I’m past diluted pop-punk now. There’s something somewhat inauthentic about musical reunions when the band themselves were so certain about their parting. The main issue when it comes to bands reuniting and returning to the musical sphere is probably not the manipulation of their fans, but the pulping narcissism it implies. There is a level of self-importance in splitting up, only to come back when, inevitably, people stop caring about you and you run out of money. Unless you are Fleetwood Mac, who disbanded in 1995, but reunited weeks later. Importantly, a band should be certain of their departure.

It’s funny, we live in a culture of wanting the ‘next big thing’, and yet these washed up stars keep on asking for our money. Claire from Steps has just released an album; it’s not actually that bad, but it’s not particularly ground-breaking stuff. Spice Girls have, yet again, announced their comeback (Even though it feels like they’ve never actually left). Even ABBA are releasing new music, and Cher is touring again. Both of which are quite exciting, the former absolutely, Cher I’m less bothered about. She was awful in Mamma Mia 2. It’s about taste, I suppose. Fall Out Boy reuniting in 2013 was possibly the most underwhelming thing for 15-year-old me who somehow managed to bypass that stage, despite the Tumblr page. But, if Oasis had reunited when I was at peak obsession, I may have burst. But they never will, and I am grateful for that. They have managed to at least hold on to some musical integrity, even if Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds and Liam’s Beady Eye were equally as dull as each other. It’s more authentic to stay away from the temptation to come back. When The Stone Roses returned, it was only really 16-year olds in bucket hats and my mum that cared. Even then, she wished she’d have just seen them the first time around instead.

Nostalgia is an interesting thing when we consider it with music. We don’t have to remember the songs, we can just listen to them again. Endless enjoyment can come from Spotify’s Cheesy Hits playlist. It’s not the music though, is it? It’s the memories, it’s remembering Christmas 2005 and being given a McFly album. It’s playing it over and over again until they have no option to comeback with another. Time is crucial when considering the comeback. A band must have had prominence back when they were together, and that fame must have continued whilst they weren’t together, for their reunion to have any impact. Fame is held not in sales and charts, but in fans. We all have to grow older, and we carry our favourite artists from our childhoods with us. Of course, we yearn for them to reunite; we yearn to be childlike again. The children who begged their parents for the Busted album, or the teens that flocked to the cinema to watch Spice World, become the adults who can pay for it themselves this time around.

I’m not sure if you’ll catch me at any reunion tours, or purchasing hastily put together albums any time soon. But who knows what I’ll be like when I’m 40. If, like me, you are a bit bemused by the Busted reunion, or that Spice Girls are asking for our money again (without Posh, since she’s loaded anyway), then rest assured. We don’t have to jump on any bandwagons.