I have two connections to Cecil Rhodes and the controversy surrounding institutions’ memorialisation of colonial figures. My grandfather won a Rhodes Scholarship almost 70 years ago, and it was at Oxford University that he met and married my grandmother. More recently, my last years of secondary education saw controversy over my school’s statue of its founder and benefactor, Royal African Company shareholder Robert Aske.
What to make, then, of Oriel College’s recent attempts to contextualise Rhodes’ legacy? An exhibition, first shown at the college and now at the University Church, features sculptures by Zimbabwean artists of the Chitungwiza Arts Centre representing “a figurative or semi-abstract reflection on the impact of Rhodes’ colonial wars on the people of Zimbabwe”. The works are thought-provoking examinations of the past, centred around competition winner Wallace Mkhanka’s Blindfolded Justice.
Yet The Rhodes Legacy Through the Eyes of Zimbabwean Sculptors disappoints. It fails to address both Rhodes’ crimes and the influence of his money over modern Oxford, trivialising previous efforts to do so. Colonial figures’ names are immortalised across the city in buildings, statues, and portraits, ignoring their bloody legacies. Oriel, and the University, must act further against this culture of convenient forgetfulness.
Rhodes graduated from Oriel in 1881, later leaving some £300 million in today’s money for the establishment of scholarships that facilitated the study of Bill Clinton, Edwin Hubble, and Kris Kristofferson, amongst others. His money also shapes Oxford’s modern identity through his memorialisation at Oriel, Rhodes House, and beyond. Yet the origin of this wealth was far from innocent.
As founder of the British South Africa Company and chairman of the De Beers diamond company, Rhodes spearheaded ruthless and exploitative colonisation of southern Africa. The 1893 and 1896–7 wars against the Ndebele and Shona peoples, which the exhibition discusses, killed an estimated 20,000–25,000 people. The Battle of Shangani alone killed 1,500 Ndebele – Rhodes’ response to this was: “The shooting must have been excellent.”
The wealth that helps fund the University is inextricable from these atrocities. Beginning in Cape Town in 2015, the Rhodes Must Fall (RMF) movement sought to address Rhodes’ memorialisation by campaigning for the global removal of his statues. RMF soon gained solidarity in Oxford but, after a “listening exercise,” a commission decided to retain the High Street statue. In 2020, a crowd of over 1,000 protested outside Oriel, and the college initially voted for relocation. The college then changed course, citing difficulties altering the Grade I listed building amidst threats by alumni to withdraw a potential £100 million in donations and gifts.
Instead, Oriel adopted a policy of “retain and explain”. Contextualisation, supported by public figures such as historian Mary Beard to avoid the supposed erasure of the past, was a compromise preferable to continued ignorance. But it has produced only a small sign outside Oriel’s High Street entrance, mentioning “exploitation of minerals, land and peoples” as the source of Rhodes’ vast wealth.
Oriel’s exhibition is cited as the continuation of this policy, but its portrayal of Rhodes’ actions and the RMF movement are trivialising and disrespectful. Appearing to present itself as the closing act of discussion around Oxford’s involvement in Empire, it discourages the bitterly needed conversation about the continued use of Rhodes’ name and wealth.
This is not to belittle the work of the sculptors, which Chitungwiza Arts Centre chairman Tendai Gwarazava described as a “crucial step towards healing and reconciliation”. The four pieces are poignant reflections on imperial oppression and the silencing of Zimbabwean voices. They cover themes such as labour exploitation, enforced Christianisation, and the abuse of women.
By contrast, the exhibition’s attempts at contextualisation are symbolic rather than critical; the gravity of Rhodes’ crimes is defined in vague terms. The posters supposedly explaining RMF accuse student activists of naivety, “unnerving the University”, and “failing to recognise the extent to which the institution was changing” through an increasingly diverse student body.
But diversity does not absolve Oxford of colonial complicity. Cecil Rhodes’ legacy is an issue that needs to be addressed through participatory discussions on his influence over the University. These must centre the voices of nations that suffered under the Empire. They must plainly expose the harm Rhodes caused, and end the exclusion of those opposed to his glorification.
As the 2015 Rhodes Must Fall petition stated, this memorialisation is “an open glorification of the racist and bloody project of British colonialism” – one that must be addressed through properly historicised contextualisation. Critical evaluations of Rhodes’ legacy with the placement of the statue in a museum, for example, would be infinitely preferable to this exhibition’s unwillingness to address the uncomfortable legacies of Oxford’s imperial past.
Even if Rhodes’ statue does not fall, the University must confront who he was, what he did, and where his money came from.
The exhibition is at the University Church of St Mary the Virgin until 7December.
At least eleven activists were arrested on suspicion of Section 13 of the Terrorism Act at a protest in Oxford this afternoon, which criticised the UK government’s decision to proscribe Palestine Action as a terrorist group. The protest, which took place outside of the Clarendon Building on Broad Street, is part of a national campaign by the activist group Defend Our Juries who oppose “the corrupting of UK law by corporate interests”.
The protest appeared peaceful, with protesters sitting down, waving Palestinian flags, and holding signs which read “lift the ban” and “I oppose genocide”.
Activists from Defend Our Juries were accompanied by other protesters, including members from Extinction Rebellion (XR) Oxford and the Oxford Climate Choir. The protesters also sang songs, including: “One, two, three, four, occupation no more. Five, six, seven, eight, Israel is a terror state.”
A member of the choir told Cherwell that they found the proscription of Palestine Action “outrageous”, adding that “they’re a completely peaceful direct action group”. He emphasised that “it’s a slippery slope. If this continues, all the other peaceful action groups can be prescribed as terrorists. People are being carried away by the police in front of our eyes – it’s just so shocking.”
The national campaign, named ‘Lift the ban’, will see protests in 18 towns and cities across the country between 18th and 29th November, including in Oxford. In an Instagram post ahead of the campaign, Defend Our Juries described the protests as the “most widespread mass civil disobedience across the UK in modern British history”.
Another protester on the steps of the Clarendon Building told Cherwell: “I’m here because I disagree with the proscription of Palestine Action. There are so many things wrong with this…I just had to add my voice, I couldn’t stay quiet.”
Palestine Action is a proscribed terrorist organisation under UK law, and supporting such an organisation is a criminal offence.
In October, a Home Office spokesperson told BBC News: “Palestine Action has conducted an escalating campaign. This has involved sustained criminal damage, including to Britain’s national security infrastructure, as well as intimidation, alleged violence and serious injuries.”
The spokesperson added that those who support the group will “face the full force of the law”.
Thames Valley Police have been approached for comment.
A landmark of the High Street, Quod boasts an opulent facade, its name reminding me of my doom on the way to my Latin lectures. And so, when they extended an invitation to review the restaurant, I welcomed the chance to dispel its previous negative associations. On a gloomy November evening, its warm lighting was appealing, and through its glass doors and tall windows, an atmosphere of upmarket ease, simultaneously intimate and spacious, promised a luxurious dining experience. From the moment we were received into the restaurant’s ambient interior, it was clear that we were the youngest ones there by at least 20 years.
Quod offers its diners a range of European dishes, priding itself on the quality and freshness of its ingredients. The wine list was extensive, and rendered null and void the few pretensions at sommeliership I thought I’d picked up through college formals. I chose a red wine (at random) to pair with my starter. The menu was reassuringly seasonal, with dishes showcasing autumnal vegetables and fruits. We ordered the goat’s cheese and beetroot salad and the roasted red pepper soup, each of which showed thoughtful curation in their flavour profiles.
For our mains, we both chose the ricotta and squash ravioli, swimming in a rich sauce of sage butter, and topped with pine nuts. The pasta was undoubtedly fresh, and texturally perfect. It had just enough bite to counteract the soft filling, avoiding the all-too-common mistake of mushy squash. The dessert menu similarly did not disappoint. We ordered the vanilla cheesecake with roasted plums, and the chocolate pot with orange creme fraiche. The cheesecake had a brulée topping, providing the perfect contrast to the creamy texture. The pairing of chocolate and orange is classic for a reason, and the crunch from the hazelnut praline complemented it well. The cocktail menu covers all bases, from dessert cocktails like an espresso martini, to lighter, champagne-based drinks. We seized the opportunity to try such ostentatiously chic drinks, choosing a French 75 and a Manhattan – they came complete with citrus twists which would have made Tom Cruise proud.
The display of fresh oysters, the pristinely uniformed waiters, and the candlelit table setting imposed an atmosphere of haute cuisine that was, admittedly, rather undercut as we gossiped over our cocktails. When we propped up our phones to take a picture, two drinks down, I suspect that we were met with a few disapproving glances. I felt I couldn’t quite live up to the role of the refined gourmet which the setting seemed to demand. Quod is, by virtue of its elevated quality and even more elevated price point, an occasional restaurant. By that I mean I would only go if someone else is paying. But should the opportunity arise, I’d be more than happy to cosplay once again as a fine-dining connoisseur.
What we ate:
Roasted red pepper, tomato & basil Soup (£8.95), Soft goat’s cheese, beetroot, & walnuts (£10.95), Ricotta & squash ravioli with sage & pine nut butter (£18.95), Vanilla cheesecake with roasted plums (£10.95), Chocolate pot with orange crème fraiche (£10.50), Manhattan (£15.50), French 75 (£16.00), Red wine (£10.50 a glass).
When you walk into college on the first day, you experience community, a sense of stepping into belonging. Consent talks are delivered between icebreakers; there’s a seemingly endless cycle of club nights and coffee trips for people to get to know each other. Everyone is a fresh-faced student still caught up in the thrill of introductions and discovering the people who will shape the next years of their lives.
Fast-forward to Week Three: a Saturday night where I had my consent treated as a non-factor and I came frighteningly close to taking my own life. In the days and weeks afterwards, the world of Oxford seemed to warp. Sleep when it came brought nightmares. Waking up felt like being thrown back into a body that I no longer trusted, a body with new scars, both mental and physical, that no longer felt like mine. The harm was not isolated to one night. It seeps into every day after, into the silences, into the laughs, growing into a cacophony of unbearable levels. In Oxford, where history is preserved in stone, my own life felt shattered beyond repair.
I don’t know how many times I said the word “no” that night. All I know is that two is too many, and the 40 repetitions recorded in my diary entry are a testament to the desperate rhythm of a voice that was never heard.The power, or impotence, of words was laid bare for me that night. I managed to text the three letters of SOS to one of my best friends, in the drunken, misguided hope that she could come in guns blazing and save the day. Someone I had previously called a friend characterised my response as regret. That word stuck with me. I did not regret saying no, I regretted the world that allowed my “no” to be ignored, the system that treated my voice and consent as negotiable. To refer to this as regret is to twist the story, denying reality, agency, and accountability.
I remember the realisation: someone is having sex with me. Yes, I was there, but I felt detached, like a bystander to something awful. I thought about running, but I was confused – how could someone I trusted, someone I called a friend, be doing this? Surely if I just played along, everything would be okay? I blamed myself, and whether right or wrong, part of me always will. Should I have said no differently? Should I have stopped them with force? These are questions that will always haunt me.
With me, as with many people, alcohol was never the villain; to blame actions on it is to deny agency and responsibility. With words as simple as no, and with an issue as fundamental as consent, intoxication cannot be used as an excuse. Drinking culture does not make consent harder to navigate, only easier to ignore. In the Oxford bubble, alcohol is a strong character, flowing through every social, every formal, every predrinks. It fuels many connections, friendships, and memories. But it also allows people to hide behind it. To shrug off what they have done. To pretend that crossing a line was out of their hands. For me alcohol was in the room but was not the reason. The reason was someone that chose not to listen. That’s not intoxication, it’s indifference to humanity.
The next morning brought yet more confusion. I had been sworn to secrecy the night before, yet rumours soon spread amongst our friends. Something as fundamental as the negation of my consent cannot be treated as a casual story to fill the gaps in conversation. So, I did the only thing I could: I stood there, silent, shaking. Even now, I sometimes get a question, a message, a half-knowing look. And still, I cannot answer. So here, in this article, lies my answer, the one that words over a pint could never express. Sex without consent is never acceptable, and the knowledge that some can see it otherwise, even within the same four walls as me, repulses me.
I’ve heard the experience compared to being locked in a cage with a wild animal. Even if you know you are likely safe, once someone has shown they are capable of such harm, life in college becomes precarious. You know they are not hunting you. But they have proven they can damage you. Every day becomes a highly emotive game of unintentional cat and mouse, in which every corner you walk around, however beautiful and however much you are enjoying the moment, turns into an alien land, associated with violence, not positivity. Every familiar face blurs into association: those who know and those who don’t. I understand now, as I understood then, that opening up to others, even if it breaks me to speak, is at the same time one of the hardest and most important things I will ever do.
The most important part of this article, however, is not about me. It is about all the Oxford students who have experienced sexual harassment, as many as half according to a 2023 survey. Living life as a statistic is strange, but each of those people are far more than that. A large proportion of our university population lives under the inescapable hold of fear and unease, knowing that safety here is conditional, fragile, and often dismissed. We are told this place is built on tradition and excellence. But behind the gowns and Latin phrases lies a reality far less romantic. When so many students know what it is to have their boundaries ignored, it is not an isolated issue, a single story, but a culture, a rot we cannot ignore.
If the University insists on taking pride in its historic facades and dreaming spires, it must also face the nightmares endured in their long shadow. Here I want an Oxford that I am proud of, and that I can love. But that cannot happen until it is an Oxford that can feel safe again for me, and most importantly be safe for everyone.
I must end with a very simple message. That help is there if you seek it out. The first step is always the hardest, but please take it. Have the conversation. Send the message. Life does get better, and however long it takes there is a way through. Please, if you are on the fence, grasp the hands reaching out to you – there are good people around that will help. I wouldn’t be here today without the support of incredible friends and professionals, and I never want anyone to reach the point where they feel that they will never be safe again.
At least three protesters were arrested as part of a demonstration disrupting former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert’s address at the Oxford Union this Sunday afternoon. A group of around 60 activists gathered outside the buildings on St Michael’s Street, chanting and blocking access to the main entrance, leading to the event being delayed by an hour.
The activists were arrested by Thames Valley Police on suspicion of aggravated trespass after climbing over the wall into the Union, while three more activists were removed from the chamber by Union security. Around 25 police officers were present outside throughout the protest.
During the talk, in which Olmert discussed Israeli internal affairs and military operations, the protesters could be heard from outside the debate chamber where the talk was taking place. Several activists inside had their hands painted red and were yelling “shame” and “lies”. They were later removed by security upon request of the President Moosa Haraj, in accordance with Regulation 51(a) of the Oxford Union.
The President told the activists to wait until the questions would be taken from the audience. Olmert replied to protesters saying: “If you will not be too hostile, people in Israel will think you’re not against me. Be against me and it will help me at home [sic].”
The three activists who were removed from the chamber, all members of the Oxford Union, told Cherwell that they were “shoved out” of the chamber by security, and that police officers attempted to arrest and handcuff them on suspicion of aggravated trespass, before the Oxford Union security confirmed that they were all Union members.
An Oxford Union spokesperson told Cherwell that “it is categorically false that they [the activists] were shoved out, and video recordings of the event confirm this”. They added that “after 30 minutes” of the protesters “interjecting and abusing the forms of the house”, they were “respectfully” escorted out by security.
Before the talk began, around 60 pro-Palestine protesters had gathered outside the Union. By around 4pm the gates to the courtyard were blocked by protesters, interlinking arms to not be removed. The protesters’ chants included “Union, Union, you can’t hide, you’re whitewashing genocide”.
Police officers told protesters they “may need to use force to restore access to the building”, but ultimately the back entrance on Cornmarket street was used to allow Union members to enter. Around 15 officers with bicycles created a barrier on Cornmarket street to allow members to queue outside while Union security checked membership cards. Cherwell understands that no bag checks were in place outside of the chamber until the first activists were removed.
The protest was organised by Oxford Schools 4 Palestine, in collaboration with Oxford Action 4 Palestine (OA4P) and Youth Demand Oxford. Most of the 60 protesters present on St Michael’s Street were students at the University. The protesters were joined by drummers and activists from Oxford Stand Up to Racism.
The majority of police officers moved away from the Union to hold back a dozen counterprotesters with Union Jacks and St George flags. Following that, pro-Palestine protesters moved to block the entrance of the building and climb over the wall.
During the event, Olmert was questioned on his role in Operation Cast Lead, an Israeli military offensive in January 2009 which resulted in over 1,400 Palestinian and 13 Israeli deaths. He said: “1,400 Hamas fighters were killed and unfortunately some others might have been killed too, with civilian populations being used as a human shield.”
Ehud Olmert was the Prime Minister of Israel from 2006 to 2009. Serving as a Prime Minister, he was engaged in the 2006 Lebanon War and a ground invasion of the Gaza Strip, in response to Hamas terrorist attacks. Olmert served 16 months of a 27-month sentence for a string of corruption cases, including accepting bribes from real estate developers as the mayor of Jerusalem and bribery and obstruction of justice as a trade minister.
While Olmert defended Israel at the start of the war, 19 months since its start he has been critical of Israel’s action in Gaza, calling its government a “criminal gang” and its blockade of Gaza a “war crime”. Olmert had already visited Oxford in Hilary Term 2024, giving an address to Oxford Speaks and the Oxford Diplomatic Society.
An Oxford Union spokesperson told Cherwell: “Disagreement is intrinsic to the Oxford Union’s commitment to upholding free speech. As such, we remain committed to hosting speakers whose views may be subject to disagreement, not to endorse those views but to challenge them in an open forum. Platforming a speaker does not equate to supporting their positions – it allows those positions to be questioned and held to account by instrumentalising our tradition to debate and disagree.”
As part of their commitment to free speech, the spokesperson emphasised to Cherwell that the Union also hosted the former Palestinian Prime Minister Mohammad Shtayyeh earler this week.
Around 100 protesters marched through central Oxford today as part of a unity rally organised by Oxford Stand Up to Racism, a local movement aimed at countering “rising racism and the far right”. The march started at Templars Square in Cowley where local councillors from the Labour, Green, and Liberal Democrat parties addressed the protesters before walking towards Bonn Square.
The protesters carried banners, with chants including: “Stop the hate, stop the fear, refugees are welcome here.” A small number of counterprotesters were also present, holding St George’s flags at Bonn Square where the march concluded.
One of the protesters attending the march told Cherwell: “It’s important that we come together to show unity in the face of racism. Our politics is becoming dominated by right-wing voices, so it’s really important that we speak out to show that all are welcome here.”
Another protester remarked how “wonderful” it was to see so many members of the public show their support for the march, including families and young children who “waved at us as we walked past”.
Over 20 organisations took part in the march, including the Oxford Green Party, Oxford Stand up to Racism, Oxford Liberal Democrats, Oxford Palestine Solidarity Campaign, North Oxfordshire Socialist Alliance, and the Oxford Labour Party.
Some protesters wore the distinctive green t-shirts associated with Extinction Rebellion (XR), a climate activist group who also participated in a protest yesterday on Cornmarket Street against the development of the Rosebank oilfield.
Speaking ahead of today’s march, Ian McKendrick from Oxford Stand Up To Racism said: “A toxic narrative in mainstream politics that blames refugees, migrants and Muslims for social problems created by austerity is giving a green light for racists to abuse and attack people.”
Green Party Councillor Max Morris, who attended the march, told Cherwell: “While the media fixates on Farage, ordinary people are standing in unity with migrants and refugees. Green Party councillors, candidates, and members showed up in big numbers to oppose the rise of fascism alongside the government’s disastrous attempts to appease the far-right.”
The Detention provided its fair share of giggles, but whether that was a result of humour or awkwardness is up for debate.
There were undoubtedly many merits to this production: if looks could kill, then Liz Freeman’s mean girl character, Sasha, certainly slayed. Stanley Toyne’s portrayal of stern teacher Mr Fairton was also exceptional; he commanded the stage with a God-like presence (if God had a somewhat temperamental speaker system, that is). The standout performance was definitely Seth Olner’s hilariously clueless depiction of misunderstood jock Thomas. Similar to how his character failed to miss a goal, Olner’s lines scored a laugh every time, his (hopeful) pretence to be oblivious adding a layer of comic relief that was desperately needed to offset the hard-hitting themes of the play.
While there is much to be commended in the show, I must admit I found it to be reminiscent of my GCSE theatre days. As the writers packed a hearty number of witty one-liners into the script, so too did they include a tooth-ache inducing pick-and-mix of mental illnesses. I fear the phrase ‘on the nose’ doesn’t quite cover it, with the script attempting to be so didactic that not only did we witness a detention, but an actual lecture on the plethora of mental health concerns that appeared within the final act of the production.
Perhaps it is envy that taints my view, but I found the sporadic way in which each character took turns to have a sudden epiphany to cause mild whiplash. In quick succession, every member of the group both admitted their deep-seated troubles to their peers and then miraculously had a revelation leading them to find a solution to their problems and accept their true selves. These monologues were of course all accompanied by a somewhat effective soundtrack of intense breathing and echoing heartbeats (a soundtrack that perhaps would have been less jarring without the inclusion of some slightly off-putting ASMR provided by none other than Mr Fairton from backstage).
Of course, any good student production would not be complete without a fantastic finale to shock and surprise the audience. The Detention offered this in the form of a spontaneous dance break, because what else could encapsulate the morals of this story but the expressive language of dance?
Ultimately, although I must credit the cast and crew for tackling such complex themes, I must stress the need for some tact when bombarding the audience with a jerking rollercoaster ride of emotions. At its core, The Detention is a moral story of self-acceptance and the value of sharing your burdens without fear of judgement. On the surface, the delivery of this moral needs some fine-tuning, but at least we could laugh our way through these occasional stumbles.
For a price that rivals tuition fees, a small but lucrative group of private consultancies promise expert guidance for students applying to Oxford and Cambridge. Bespoke packages costing up to £25,590 offer everything from interview preparation to subject-specific mentoring through the increasingly competitive application process.
The real draw for many, however, is the promise of insider access, with some firms openly advertising direct connections to current tutors who sit on the universities’ admissions panels. To investigate these claims, Cherwell posed as a prospective client and obtained prospectus documents from several companies, revealing their full scope and cost.
Cherwell has found that oversight of these services appears to be almost non-existent. Freedom of Information (FOI) requests to all Oxford undergraduate colleges revealed only two tutors declared paid work with admissions consultancies over the past three academic years.
This tiny number stands in stark contrast to the extensive access firms advertise, with the discrepancy exposing a grey area in accountability. Whether fault lies on the part of companies or colleges, both possibilities undermine confidence in the equity of admissions – one by selling the illusion of access, the other by directly risking the reality of it.
Inside the programmes
Much of the work these firms do has been hidden from public view due to their exclusive nature. But internal prospectuses obtained by Cherwell reveal just how extensive – and expensive – these programmes can be.
Most begin with an initial consultation involving the student and their parents, followed by a long-term plan that can run for over a year. In some cases, companies advise starting this process as early as 14 or 15 years old, framing early preparation as a competitive advantage.
A growing number of firms now operate in the market, with services ranging from preparation for admissions tests, through to mock interviews and even assistance with super-curricular activities.
Dr Tranter’s Oxbridge Tutorials, for example, includes support “with sourcing work experience and other relevant preparation”, as well as a “comprehensive review of the full UCAS application, with ongoing feedback and support throughout the process”. Another firm, First Class Education, offers weekly one-to-one tutorials and termly strategic reviews with parents, while also covering personal statement drafting and mock interviews.
One parent told Cherwell she turned to a private consultancy after her son’s state school – rated “inadequate” by Ofsted – provided no support for his Cambridge application. She said the “several thousand pound” programme “helped him improve his personal statement and he had about six mock interviews”. Reflecting on the process, she said: “To be honest, they were amazing – he got a place and has just graduated with a high 2:1.”
Not everyone views the industry as a benign force, however. One former tutor who has previously worked for elite firms told Cherwell: “The fees these firms charge are neither reasonable nor justified by the quality of the service provided. Much of their material is produced by students who lack teaching credentials and are inadequately compensated, which undermines the quality of their work.”
Firms repeatedly invoke the idea of ‘insider knowledge’, usually coming from tutors who are Oxbridge graduates. Some firms, however, go further, with Dr Tranter’s explicitly promising access to tutors who currently sit on Oxford and Cambridge admissions panels – the very bodies that decide which applicants receive offers each year. Cherwell contacted Dr Tranter’s for comment, but the firm did not respond to requests for comment.
Claims of disproportionate success rates are also prevalent, with First Class Education proudly boasting: “100% of our Oxbridge applicants received an interview last year, and 24 out of 50 secured offers.” This equates to an acceptance rate of 48% – over triple the average among all Oxford undergraduate applicants in 2024. The company told Cherwell that these figures came from internal data, but acknowledged they were not independently verified, as “not all clients disclose final outcomes”.
The former tutor said the lack of regulation of the industry allows “some companies to misrepresent their success rates and, in some cases, their tutors’ qualifications”. They added: “Parents are paying thousands for a service that often adds little value, with no professional body to ensure standards or quality assurance.”
Whether through success statistics or promises of exclusive access, these claims capture the image of privileged insight that these firms seek to cultivate. Applicants are offered a potentially crucial advantage unavailable to those unwilling or unable to pay for similar opportunities.
Five-figure packages
This promise of insider guidance comes at a hefty premium, with fees regularly reaching the five-figure mark. In a prospectus document usually reserved for interested families, Dr Tranter’s prices its Gold Tier package at £19,950, with the Elite Tier reaching £25,590. The firm also offers a “6 hour tour of Oxford colleges” for an additional £950.
Internal documents obtained by Cherwell show First Class Education’s Oxford PPE programme is spread over two successive periods. The £8,000 “Phase 1: Profile-Building” stage focuses on developing an applicant’s academic background, while “Phase 2: Application Preparation” comes in at an additional £10,000, covering the full UCAS process, up to and including interviews.
First Class Education told Cherwell that its packages provide “highly tailored, long-term support”, with each student offered “sustained mentorship and skill development rather than short-term tutoring”. They stressed that “no current Oxford or Cambridge admissions officers are employed” by the firm, and that all tutors must “disclose any current university employment” to ensure compliance with conflict of interest policies.
Other firms operate under slightly different models, but command similar fees. Keystone Tutors offers a modular “University Advisory Service”, costing over £6,000. Whilst initially appearing to be a cheaper option, this is tempered by the fact it encourages customers to sign up for additional modules available at rates of up to £177 per hour, depending on the tutors’ experience.
Cherwell found many other such examples of high-cost programmes, including William Clarence (starting at £9,000) and UK Education Garden (from £9,999), as shown in Graph 1, both of whom point to the Oxbridge-specific insights and subject expertise that they provide. Keystone Tutors, William Clarence, and UK Education Garden were all approached for comment.
Graph credit: Oscar Reynolds.
Taken together, the high fees and the manner in which the programmes are presented create a sense of exclusivity both in the nature of the personalised plans and the promised access. Yet despite these bold claims and premium fees, there is little transparency over how such companies operate, bringing the issues of fairness and conflict into focus.
College oversight
All Oxford colleges maintain formal conflict of interest policies, requiring any staff involved in admissions to declare paid work they have completed that could create either real or perceived conflicts, including in tutoring or consultancy. The policies are intended to ensure that no applicant receives an unfair advantage through personal connections or monetary incentives.
Of the colleges that responded to Cherwell’s FOI request – only Christ Church failed to reply despite repeated attempts to contact them – nearly all reported that there had been no declared involvement with admissions consultancies by tutors.
Hertford College referred to a single private tutoring arrangement, explicitly structured to avoid conflicts, whilst Lincoln College also reported one conflict, though stressed that the candidate in question was not applying to the College, nor for a course that they offer. Both cases demonstrate the lengths to which colleges aim to track even minimal external work.
Most colleges referred to policies that prohibited conflicts relating to pecuniary interests. Exeter College, for instance, warns that situations should be declared if “the assessor … has received remuneration for advice given on Oxford University admissions to any individual or organisation”.
Wadham College, meanwhile, explicitly addresses the potential for commercial tutoring schemes to create conflicts of interest: as their policy states, such programmes grant “privileged access” to applicants, which may conflict “with the College’s stated aim of supporting academically able students, regardless of their background, in applying to Oxford”.
However, the conflict of interest policies of several colleges also apply across the entire university, not just within individual colleges. For instance, Mansfield College specifies that a conflict relating to such paid work should be declared “whether the candidates advised have applied to the College or not”.
In addition to this, Oxford University’s Conflict of Interest Policy requires staff to “recognise and disclose activities that might give rise to actual or perceived conflicts of interest,” highlighting admissions as an area where such conflicts may arise. Cambridge University has a similar policy in place, but did not respond to a request for comment.
The gap between the tiny number of declared conflicts and firms’ advertised practices exposes a serious discrepancy. While companies continue to market “current tutors” as a key selling point, Oxford colleges report almost no such involvement.
Whether this is due to companies overstating their access or tutors providing paid guidance without declaring it, the result is legal and ethical ambiguity in a sector which forms part of the UK’s £7.5 billion tutoring industry.
Minimal regulation, maximum cost
Despite the high fees and the bold marketing claims, the private Oxbridge consultancy market remains almost entirely unregulated. No authority – whether at national or university level – directly oversees the claims these companies make about success rates, tutor credentials, or insider knowledge.
This absence of oversight is not unique to university admissions consultancy, with the broader private tutoring industry also operating with minimal regulation. Firms are governed only by general consumer protection and advertising standards, with the lack of an official regulator leaving a gap in an industry shaping access to elite universities.
The Tutors’ Association (TTA) – the UK’s only professional body for private tutors – told Cherwell that “all tutors and tutoring organisations (including education consultancies and Oxbridge admissions specialists) should meet minimum standards of professionalism and ethical conduct, ensuring transparency, integrity and accountability in their work”.
In the absence of government regulation, the TTA maintains a voluntary Code of Practice, runs an independent disciplinary committee, and supports safeguarding measures, such as “mandatory criminal record checks for all tutors working with children and young people”.
Unclear regulation and unchecked advertising claims have led to a sector where five-figure packages have become the norm and firms operate largely without accountability. Companies publicly tout their ability to provide access to current admissions tutors, yet this is directly at odds with data showing almost no such arrangements have been formally declared.
Until this inconsistency is addressed, the equity of Oxford’s admissions system will remain an open question. For now though, the promise of insider access remains a powerful incentive for families willing and able to pay tens of thousands of pounds – even if, as university and college policies make clear, that knowledge should never be for sale.
