Thursday 31st July 2025
Blog Page 782

‘New Year, New Diet’ – but will that fad diet do you any good?

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‘You see, I just want to lose weight this year, so I’m trying this diet. You won’t believe how easy it is, literally all I have to do is skip breakfast and lunch, then and eat a high fibre, high protein, low sugar, low carb, low fat, vegetable-only low sugar, high protein, low fat, only vegetable meal for dinner!’

It’s a cliché that we’re all aware of, and one we’ve probably bought onto ourselves – the New Year’s diet. Magazines published at this time of year are rife with articles showing minor celebrities boasting of how, by using THIS one simple trick, they shed five pounds in two weeks, and YOU CAN DO IT TOO.

Shops sneakily move their ‘health’ products to the front of their window displays, and juice companies surely worship the time of year when people drink their product in droves, for the sake of ‘cleansing’ or ‘detoxing’ their bodies (spoiler alert: that’s what your kidneys are for).

The fad diet is an integral and inherently problematic part of diet culture, and has only been made more pervasive as an institution in recent years with the rise of social media. Are there any benefits at all to participating in these diets?

The short answer is no. While the pros and cons have been heatedly debated from many angles, there is little to no actual science to support the idea that fad diets are anything but fads. The NHS warns against using diets that exclude certain food groups, or encourage the over-eating of others, and that are reliant on almost immediate results. And the British Dietary Association releases an annual ‘diets to avoid’ list, in order to prevent pseudo-scientific diets from gaining traction.

The problem, however, is that these institutions are not recognising the more insidious way that fad-dieting culture has moved into our lives. No longer are diets such as the ‘only cabbage soup’ type promoted, but instead many now claim to have scientific or homeopathic backing, and companies are spending large sums of money paying celebrities who are often completely uneducated on such issues, to promote them.

The notion of the ‘insta-babe’ selling us her favourite ‘skinny tea’, or the reality TV star demonstrating their ‘before and after’ results from a 5:2 (or intermittent fasting) diet, has become ubiquitous. But the real issue isn’t whether or not people choose to use laxatives, or decide to skip breakfast most mornings – the fundamental problems with this type of dieting and diet promotion is that they are hinged on the idea of weight loss, rather than encouraging a healthy lifestyle, and they suggest that other aspects of our lifestyles – how often we exercise, whether we drink, what types of food we normally eat – are lesser factors than the supposedly more effective, faster solution.

In reality, there isn’t anything that wrong with deciding to mostly cut out carbs, or to spend a few weeks – sensibly – restricting your calorific intake. But there is something wrong with failing to acknowledge, as most people do, that this short-term fix has to be supplemented by a longer term, and much harder, lifestyle change.

For those of us who have suffered from an unhealthy relationship with food and our bodies, fad diets present a concerningly tempting way to disguise much deeper problems. The implication of a diet that tells you to cut out certain food groups is to create a notion in your mind that some food is ‘bad’ and other food is ‘good’. The only way that food can be categorised as ‘good’ is if it will make or keep you thin. In reality, it’s just not healthy to create a mindset that ruminates over the calories and sugar content of every food item.

These diets contribute to an already incredibly toxic ‘diet culture’ that has made society obsessed with their bodies – especially women. The thinly-veiled misogyny that exists in this industry must not be ignored. It’s rare that fad diets are targeted towards men. The classic image of a ‘healthy’ woman is one who wears a size six pair of running leggings, has a perfectly toned stomach, and who is preferably chugging a glass of green juice every two hours. Now, I’m sure this woman is healthy, but the image that she is promoting to thousands of women and girls just isn’t.

Whereas men’s magazines typically tend to focus on encouraging guys to hit the gym and eat nutritious and balanced diets, women’s magazines are some of the biggest culprits when it comes to creating this toxic atmosphere. There is so much subliminal messaging – the suggestion that ‘to be thin is to be happy’ is displayed without those words ever having to be used. It comes from beautiful, lithe and seemingly happy models who seem to be needlessly participating in said diet. It comes from social media-based companies who target you by using language like ‘babes’ and ‘chicas’ to form a kind of corporate faux-feminist bond with their consumer base.

In order to contribute to the promotion of a healthy lifestyle, it is necessary that fad diets are recognised for exactly what they are – short term and usually ineffective solutions that can be incredibly detrimental not only to one’s physical health, but to their mental health as well.

There would be little point reiterating the messages sent out by health organisations regarding the cons of fad-dieting; these are almost as clichéd as the diets themselves. What really matters is educating people properly on nutrition and encouraging an active lifestyle from an early age.

This particularly applies to young girls, as by the age of 10 anywhere from 50-80 per cent of young girls in western countries will have tried a diet. This just isn’t right. I’m not condemning using a specific diet in accordance with a pre-existing healthy lifestyle, but the culture and the society which suggests that diets should be undertaken without the necessary research and consultation, and in pursuit of the wrong aims, should be.

Two views on love compete for our heart

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When it comes to that ‘crazy little thing called love’, no-one actually knows what they’re doing. Despite years of study and experience it’s surprising that we have no sort of comprehensive formal education on the matter. The education we as millennials have received has been woefully inadequate. We’re the generation known for being perhaps the most disillusioned. So whilst we’re looking for a voice of authority on love, to guide us out of our confusion we get caught between two competing philosophies of love: one of emotionalism and one of rationalism (often called cynicism).

Today, more than ever, we’re reluctant to suggest the two are linked. You can see the two ideologies exemplified in the 2009 movie (500) Days of Summer. If you haven’t seen it, you should know, the film begins with the narrator describing “Tom Hansen of Margate, New Jersey, [who] grew up believing that he’d never truly be happy until the day he met his… ‘soulmate.’ This belief stemmed from [his] early exposure to sad British pop music and a total misreading of the movie The Graduate.” Even though Tom was a teen in the 1980s and is from the USA, I’d argue this is the sort of education on love many of us received.

We’re the generation that learned about Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet in school, and then would go home and broodingly listen to Drake, (or maybe something edgier if your parents owned vinyls). Tom exhibits the emotional approach to love. His ‘love interest’ Summer, is of course a ‘cynic.’ She informs him, on the subject of love: “I don’t even know what that word means. I know I’ve never felt it, whatever it is in all those songs… Oh yeah, And I read in Newsweek, there were these scientists who found that by stimulating a part of the brain with electrodes you can make a person fall in “love” with a rock.”

So we’re either falling headfirst in love or having sensory reactions to rocks… In the past, views on love were at the ‘Tom’ end of the spectrum. When you’re younger, your parents would tell you about love, and you’d believe what they said. This stage lasts a long time. Apparently we stop believing in Santa around age nine or ten, but believe in love well into adulthood, and spend colossal amounts of time looking for it or, at least, reading about it.

This is because once we’ve neglected our parents authority on the matter, we might turn to our friends, or even more worryingly, to literature. This is an art form rampant with couples starting duels, running themselves through with swords, and eating arsenic or at the very least writing exceptionally sad journals. Once you’ve realised perhaps this isn’t the best way to learn about love, without becoming too cynical you’ll perhaps have to turn to music. However this industry is equally concerning. One of the most ‘romantic’ lyrics in British music reads “if a double-decker bus crashes into us / To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die / And if a ten-ton truck kills the both of us / To die by your side, the pleasure, the privilege is mine.” There’s ‘romance’, and then there’s that! – A complete explosion of what realistically is narcissistic, and cringeworthy diatribe (although that may be a very unpopular opinion).

On the other hand, I grew up being told that the most authoritative voices in music on love were, of course, Joni Mitchell and Tracy Chapman which are obviously not always the most uplifting influences. However, both are truly fantastic artists and many of us will feel some sort of heartbreak like theirs in our lives. Most of us admittedly won’t write a beautiful album about it, we’ll likely listen to theirs instead. So this emotionalism, whether it be literary, musical or other, works wonders as a crutch and a way to explain or educate us on how we’re feeling, but they don’t provide a complete education.

However in the last few years, recent studies into love have turned to Summer’s ideology. The rationalists have gone so far the other way and are fraught with statistics, facts, cynicism, and rationale. In a way, making explainable the mix of feelings that constitutes love is reassuring. Yet this approach definitely makes love seem more like a science than an art. Notions of ‘soul-mate’, ‘one and only’ and ‘love of your life’ get replaced with statistics that can tell you exactly how many ‘long term partners’ you are likely to have, how many of these you will ‘cohabit’ with and how many you will statistically ‘marry’ and ‘divorce’. A concept that was once intrinsically romanticised, is now being routinely analysed.

Today that voice of authority comes from an industry. ‘Matchmaker’ and ‘Love doctor’ now exists as professional platforms. In the last five years, TedTalks on love have focused on things like the science of love, linguistic studies of love, and how to step into love as opposed to falling into it. The industry has turned being ‘lucky in love’ to being ‘smug in love’ since there appears now to be a specific algorithm for finding love, which only some of us will master before a certain age. I mean, Buzzfeed will probably be able to tell you what type of person you find attractive based on your favourite pizza topping.

Today’s challenge seems to be to find a way of talking about love that is somewhere in the middle. We all know we have a tendency to over romanticise, but becoming analytical robots isn’t too appealing either. There needs to be some realism within this age old concept.

Blind Date: “Our first attempt was marked by a minor mishap”

Charlie Blake, Second Year, Engineering, St Catz

Our first attempt at meeting was marked by a minor mishap – we couldn’t find each other. I couldn’t help but think that this was some kind of omen… but following our initial confusion, we finally arranged to meet for a pleasant Saturday morning coffee. I had actually only woken up less than an hour ago before the date, following a fun-filled Pride Entz the night before, but nevertheless I donned a smile and cute jumper ready to meet him. After the initial greeting one another, conversation quickly went into standard freshers questions, such as name, college, subject, year etc. Topics of conversation ranged from Malala to going to Wetherpoons with your teachers, but all in all I’d say that it was a generally pleasant time.

First impressions?

Is he a DPhil student? No, he’s a fresher – the beard deceived me.

Quality of the chat?

Wide range of philosophical questions, 10/10.

Most awkward moment?

Trying to say I had to leave.

Kiss or miss?

Miss.

Jack Sagar, First Year, PhilThe, Mansfield

He seemed to be in a bit of a rush, just by the way he walked up to the café. But, that’s because I suppose that he wanted to be on time. I thought he was attractive, and was just grateful that he wasn’t a 6’4” to my 5’8”, and I was looking forward to getting to know him over the next hour. Conversation appeared to have owed well, and we covered all the big topics: Eurovision, greenstick fractures and student-tutor relationships. We were quite receptive to one another’s views, and able to add to what the other had said. It was the sort of conversation where I did not feel that aware of the time, nor did I find myself wondering what to say next whilst he spoke. When it came time to say goodbye, I wanted him to know I’d had a nice time, but was too awkward to articulate that.

First impressions?

It seemed like he was in a bit of a rush.

Quality of the chat?

Topics were broad and ranging, demonstrating his worldly insight.

Most awkward moment?

The goodbye…I started rambling.

Kiss or miss?

Kiss.

A woman who made a difference – for better or worse

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You know the sort, an eccentric Oxonion scholar-bureaucrat with an interest in wandering around the Middle-East of the early twentieth century. These characters and figures are likely to be understood instantly in terms of the politics that made their scholarship possible, specifically colonialism. For better or for worse.

Sometimes we focus on the problems of colonialist politics a little too much, but should we not be attentive to them at all just because the person in question scouring the land for antiquities was a product of Lady Margaret Hall rather than Balliol?

The first half of the film Letters from Baghdad by Zeva Oelbaum and Sabine Krayenbühl, on the life of the path breaking colonial administrator Gertrude Bell, unwittingly made me think about this question a great deal.

This is because it is an epistolary film, centred around the unquestionably colourful, though tragic letters that Bell exchanged during the time she spent in the Middle East during the early years of the previous century.

It also features letters and observations about Bell spoken by actors playing her contemporaries, filmed in black and white. This structure means that it is heavily reliant on Bell’s own observations about herself and her colleagues and so inherently uncritical about Bell’s own life.

Perhaps to another reviewer this would not be an issue, since Bell unquestionably had her own difficulties to overcome as a woman. The film captures this well in the first fifteen or so minutes, focussing on the period of her life before she went eastwards. Shots of Oxford from the 1880s, when Bell arrived at the women’s only Lady Margaret Hall, of young men following the rowing along the river, and on their bicycles in the middle of town, are generous and so transport you to that time where considerably more students faced significant disadvantages compared to their peers.

Thankfully it is not overly sentimentalised, even though Bell achieved great academic success, leaving with a first-class degree in history in two years, at the age of 19. Snide, though possibly even bewildered or ‘concerned’, references to Bell’s “Oxfordy manner” and therefore ‘male characteristics’ see to this.

Her male contemporaries also thought of her as not a particularly suitable wife, and her decision to spend some time in Persia, where her uncle was a British Minister based in Tehran, and where she would become fluent in Arabic and Persian.

This part of the film also quickly establishes the film’s second greatest strength, after the restrainedeloquence of Bell’s writing: the lavish video footage from the period plays as the voice of Tilda Swinton, the academy award winning Scottish actress, reads Bell’s thoughts with perfection.

The collection of footage and Swinton’s intonation would perhaps be reason enough to go and watch this film. But importantly, as the film becomes more overtly political its colonial Eat Pray Love like quality quickly wears off, and we are allowed to appreciate her life in all its aspects.

In the middle of the film Bell speaks of the “well spent morning at the office” where she delineates the boundaries of the state that would become Iraq. Bell affirms a need to support the Sunni establishment in a country numerically dominated by Shi’a, and to install the Arab Hashemite prince Faisal as King of Iraq. If not enough time is spent on the terrible consequences of these decisions, we hear from Bell as she is being side-lined at the Paris Peace Conference where she speaks of the combination of compromise, venality and ineptitude with which the victorious powers were settling the boundaries of the modern Middle East.

Gertrude Bell was at the centre of epoch making events, and despite certain failings Letters from Baghdad compellingly shows what taking the initiative to live life in the midst of grand events entails.

The Polycephaly Monologues Review – ‘seamlessly combines the surreal with the naturalistic’

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It’s almost as if the cranberries represent something else… Writer Nick Smart’s The Polycephaly Monologues is an intense insight into three very different minds, all with their individual quirks and worries. Contextualised by a variety of fruits, this performance is high-energy, with the undercurrent of a very original style of writing, and seamlessly combines the surreal with the naturalistic.

The audience walk into the Pilch to find the actors already onstage, putting on make-up or scoffing the remains of a plum pudding. Instantly, we enter the atmosphere of the piece, and fall silent to watch the action before us. No time is wasted in making us uneasy, and slightly confused at the water-filled rubber gloves hanging from the ceiling. Cherona Chapman’s lighting keeps the piece fluid, and maintains this sense of unease throughout, though not so much as to overwhelm the audience. Ella Benson Easton’s set is used to great effect, though minimal, it does its job well, and the actors all master the space, keeping these long solo speeches from sagging.

We start with Robbie Fraser’s portrayal of a mentally unstable widower, tangential and deeply affecting. Though this monologue takes us through the erratic thoughts of a rambler, Fraser manages to hold our attention, through the talk of plum pudding to the darker, more gruesome talk of worms and decaying bodies. This is by far the strongest piece of writing, and Fraser carries it off with delicacy, moving between despair and elation in order to keep the audience focused and interested, with no signs of a struggle on his part. Progressing from one subject to another at break-neck speed, the chaos of his thoughts is brought to the forefront, though it does become difficult to decipher what the script is trying to say towards the end.

In the next monologue, we see weaker writing, but greater comic potential. Hannah Jaques’ character doesn’t take herself too seriously, and wonders what it would be like to have a lipstick baby grow inside of her. The absurdity increases in this section, and Jaques talks of crying out of her vagina, and whether her screams could bring down the roof over her head, and that of her boyfriend and his lover. Preoccupied by her make-up, Jaques is straight to the point, distracted, and in this we see a certain honestly arise from her words. As before, however, the script goes round in circles, and starts to lose direction, though the actor makes the most of her situation.

Finally, and most surreally, Alec McQuarrie comes into the spotlight, perplexed by the bare stage he has been left with. Before long, he goes off to the side, and brings back on a paddling pool, filling it with water and a mysterious red liquid, (later we find out this is, unsurprisingly, cranberry juice). His confusion is not at the stage any longer, but at the question of what it takes to become a cranberry. He needs to think like one, dipping his head in the pool, and trying to submerge himself as much as possible. Here, the script starts to fade from the forefront, and it is McQuarrie’s physicality which takes centre stage, dynamically following his threads of thought, using the space around him to his advantage. He takes the audience with him on his energetic attempts to turn into a cranberry, or to produce one in any way he can. This culminates in him ‘drowning,’ inventively portrayed as if the water is rising from the pool and filling the whole stage, probably the most exciting moment in the whole piece, the audience was held in suspense as he held his breath, uncertain of what was coming next.

The script attempts to be continuous, but it is unclear as to what each monologue is trying to say, both individually and as a body of work. Though misguided, this is an enjoyable show, and each actor is brilliant in their own right.

Makeup as personal empowerment?

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For anyone who knows me, my defining physical characteristic would likely be ‘eyeliner dots.’ A touch ironic, perhaps, that rather than any genetic feature it is my makeup that stands out. Yet for me this is brilliant; I am in control of the image I project to the world, and can assert my identity accordingly.

For my chubby pre-teen self, wearing makeup provided a much-needed confidence boost, a means of seeing my reflection and thinking ‘okay, that’ll do’. Whilst hindsight tells me that caking my acne-covered face in Maybelline Dream Matte Mousse was not the most sensible skincare move, this act allowed me to re-assert the control over my appearance that hormones taken from me. However, in a strict all-girls grammar school this approach to beauty was frowned upon. Teachers warned that wearing makeup would diminish the reputation of the school, because why on earth would an intelligent young woman waste time applying winged eyeliner?

You only need look around Oxford to see that this isn’t the case. Rather than a marker of vanity or ill-intelligence, the wide-spread consensus is that makeup is a means of expressing oneself. Our choices of self-presentation help construct individuality that we are so ardently encouraged by tutors to cultivate. It is a talking point, the start of a conversation. I bonded with one of my closest friends in college over an admiration of her electric blue lipstick, and our friendship is founded upon a shared love of both poetry and MAC cosmetics. What is more, the choice to wear makeup can be a political statement in the face of patriarchal standards that condemn it. Oxford’s drag scene provides strong evidence of this: groups of individuals expressing themselves outside of socially-constructed expectations of behaviour, displaying facets of their identity through makeup, clothing, and performance art.

The choice not to wear makeup may be equally empowering. Once again, this decision has no correlation to one’s intellectual integrity. It is time we regard these two as mutually exclusive and hold a mirror up to the society that enforces this very principle.

LGBT flags deserve more than a week

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It seems appropriate that the theme for LGBT history month this year is ‘Geography: Mapping the World’ when considering how large the international student contingent is here at Oxford.

This month we look to commemorate sombre events. For example, the 30th anniversary of the passing of section 28, which prohibited local authorities from disseminating materials that ‘promoted homosexuality’ in schools and the 40th anniversary of the murder of Harvey Milk, the USA’s first out gay elected councillor. But there is a lot to be celebrated too, as citizens in Australia and also 16 other Central and South American nations can enjoy same sex weddings for the first time.

30 years ago, it was stated in Section 28 that a local authority “shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality”, an act only repealed in 2003 in the UK. LGBT history is frequently littered with taboo and silence. I therefore see no more fitting way to commemorate LGBT history month by flying Pride flags in defiance throughout February.

So why do so many colleges still refuse to fly the flag for the entire month? Students at a variety of colleges have struggled to get the flag flown for the entire month with mixed results.

Some colleges have notably been successful. Students at Oriel have negotiated their way to flying it for the full month for the first time. But even at colleges that have agreed to fly the flag, for example my own college, St Anne’s, the prospect was not immediately welcomed.

Many ask whether a whole month is truly necessary, or even wonder if this fight is worthwhile, or merely a self-congratulatory show of support for a cause that is largely won. It’s first important to note that the flagpoles in Oxford are largely unused. Flying a flag is virtually costless to a college. The decision not fly the flag is just as active as the decision to fly it. Whilst the college loses very little, the lonely spires certainly look better with a splash of colour. Flash back to a younger version of myself, a closeted Oxford applicant, who was blown away when he first looked around Oxford and saw the vast number of flags hanging out of windows representing every identity under the sun. My closeted self could not wait to get here.

Flags do not just exist to congratulate ourselves, they stand as a signal of who we are and who we would like to be, a city that welcomes everyone. If colleges can show support, then why shouldn’t they. LGBT people are an ‘invisible’ minority and awareness is always positive, especially in LGBT history month. This is a fast and easy way to ‘flag’ up LGBT matters and spark discussion about the history of this community and the issues that pertain to them today.

Colleges have fought back, arguing that flying the flag for awareness and support purposes would open the floodgates, allowing hundreds of obscure flags needing to be flown. Others have raised concerns that the LGBT flag may be seen as a divisive political signal that the college should not engage with. Firstly, I think we can all agree that flying other flags to represent other minority groups is no bad thing. There is no reason why we shouldn’t support the flagpoles being used throughout the year to support a variety of groups. More importantly, every stance that we make may cause a division somewhere if we choose to look for it. Remaining ‘neutral’ in this case is not an option.

Failure to make a statement of support can be easily read as an endorsement of those who would disregard the LGBT community. Silence may seep through the history of the LGBT community, but it should not be our future. Engaging in politics is unavoidable and there is no better way to engage with it than as brightly and as boldly as possible.

Sia and her wig: disguise or clever marketing tool?

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Australian pop singer Sia is famous for her world-class vocals on songs like ‘Chandelier’, but her chosen attire gains her just as much attention: she chooses to only appear in public when wearing a wig that covers her face.

Her wig acts as a veil, concealing herself from her fans and allowing her to maintain an aura of privacy and mystery. She has expressed her dislike regarding the destabilising nature of fame, and the wigs give her a sound excuse to place herself out of the limelight. However, is she being deceptive, and creating mystery in order to sell albums? She said herself to James Corden in a Carpool Karaoke episode when discussing her wig, “I thought what doesn’t exist in pop music today? And it was mystery!”

Her Twitter bio does little to demystify the life of singer: “i am sia i was born from the bumhole of a unicorn named steve.” The majority of her tweets are signed off by ‘Team Sia’ rather than herself, and her profile picture is a photo of a young girl named Maddie Ziegler, who regularly appears in place of Sia at press events and in her music videos.

Her Instagram page, arguably the most personal of all the social media platforms, contains no photos of that morning’s brunch or cute dog snaps, but instead features mainly album promotion images. In a social media-obsessed era, this level of secrecy is unusual for a celebrity, who usually has to open themselves up to the public to connect with fans.

At 42 years old, Sia isn’t the typical young female pop star. Her wig could also be a clever marketing ploy to deceive people’s expectations and place an older woman in a predominantly younger genre, appealing to the audience by presenting her as faceless and letting her voice and talent speak for itself.

So what will happen next? Perhaps she will slowly unveil herself, creating a narrative of intrigue and letting her fans get to know her. However, once the wig has gone, the mystery will disappear and thus one of the main marketing features of her brand will have vanished. In an age where information is so readily available, an air of mystery and deception may be vital in order to survive.

A letter to: my future employer

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Dear Future Employer,

So, here we are. After the 18 spring weeks, 20 years of work experience and one Nobel Prize that it took to procure the entry level job advertised on your website, it seems that you have chosen me to join your prestigious, highly esteemed midmarket financial firm.

With a humanities degree, I started off as a dreamer. The impurities and imperfections of the world used to pain me enormously. I vaguely remember my sixth form essays which argued for nuclear non-proliferation, universal healthcare and even, frighteningly, a federal Europe. When I started university, I recall all the different ways I thought the world could change and how I could help change it. There wasn’t an issue too big or too small. Global warming, Palestine and polio – I was to solve, liberate and cure the world from all its woes. How misguided I was.

Alas, having gained an invaluable insight into the corporate world after the four day experience arranged by your firm, I realised how truly minuscule my previous aspirations were. The intricacies of bi-annual financial statements and miscellaneous administrative tasks are where my passion truly lies. It was through the professional, yet friendly, nature of your company that I truly understood where my heart lay, having received my offer letter informing me “with pleasure” that I had out-performed so many of my peers to attain this graduate role.

Sometimes, while clearing out my room, I rifle through my tattered school newspaper articles, politics essays and even my Oxford personal statement. I am reminded of the boy I once was. It would be remiss of me to say that these things do not occasionally cross my mind. At your firm’s four day Spring Insight programme, in the momentary lulls, away from the unanimous euphoria of the occasion, I looked out at the view. There was a stunning vision of the Thames Barrier and an assortment of Industrial Warehouses – it was then I recognised how misguided I truly was.

I realised how profoundly correct I was at all the key junctures of my career. In first year, when I flirted with the idea of an eco start up, I remembered that 90 per cent of start ups fail – how right I was. When I wanted to volunteer at a Microfinance Initiative in Bali, I knew that turning it down for a three week Hedge Fund experience, sorted out by my father, was the right choice. And now, as I am on the threshold of joining your firm, I know that the 30 years of processing and financial jargon that lay ahead of me are the right choice. As the Sufi poet Rumi said, “Set yourself on fire and seek those who fan the flames” – that is why I seek your firm and look forward to filling out the new Joiners surgery forthwith.

Yours faithfully,

Musty

Oxford SU votes to support UCU strike

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Oxford SU will stand with academic staff in their upcoming pensions strikes, following an ‘Extraordinary Council’ meeting last night.

Delegates passed a motion by 56 votes to 13, mandating Oxford SU’s sabbatical officers to issue a statement in full support of the University and College Union’s (UCU) strike action. It also called on the University to oppose the impending pension reforms which will impact thousands of University employees.

However, while passing with a large majority, several students expressed concern at the impact on teaching. One student told Cherwell that the SU “now supports finalists being left with potentially no teaching whatsoever for three weeks”.

The emergency meeting, held at St Catherine’s College, was called after a failure to pass an acceptable motion regarding the University and College Union’s (UCU) strike last week.

The SU had previously faced widespread criticism for their initial statement, which said it was “regrettable” that the proposed strike could adversely affect students’ education.

In contrast, last night’s motion offered a far stronger support for the academics’ industrial action.

It called on students to support their lecturers and tutors, even if that means not attending classes, with an exemption being made for compulsory assessments.

It also mandated the vice president for graduates, Marianne Melsen, to contact all graduate students and encourage them to join the UCU.

However, despite the amendment excluding compulsory examinations, concerns were still raised at impact the strikes will have on students.

One fourth year told Cherwell: “Tutors and academic staff are absolutely justified in being aggrieved by changes to their pensions.

“But, it’s also important that our student union supports the interests of students. Despite claims made about solidarity and long-term effects, the motion Oxford SU passed today – encouraging students not to attend classes, and offering support to strikers – means that the SU now supports finalists being left with potentially no teaching whatsoever for three weeks, which is deeply worrying.

“Oxford SU is there to represent students, and while we should show our support to tutors in other ways, we should not be supporting the strike.”

UCU’s planned walk-outs are a response to proposed reforms of the Universities Superannuation Scheme, the fund which provides the pensions to academic staff at universities such as Oxford.

Independent estimates suggest that the changes would cause a typical lecturer to lose £200,000 in pension contributions by the time of their retirement.SU votes to support UCU strike