Thursday 17th July 2025
Blog Page 845

‘SiX’ at the Fringe review – “the best hour of comedy I saw all week”

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One of the many charms of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe is getting to watch superb theatre in the unlikeliest of venues. My week had already taken me from Methodist churches to pub basements, so why not the venue known as “Sweet Grassmarket”, which turned out to be the conference rooms of the rather posh Apex Grassmarket hotel?

Recommendation seemed to have spread by word of mouth, and there was quite a buzz around the first original musical toured by Cambridge University’s Musical Theatre Society. The slightly surreal premise of SiX – Henry VIII’s wives form a 6 piece girl band – had me, and the audience, racking our brains for any previous knowledge.

I imagine that for most of us, it boiled down to the saying we all learnt in primary school: “divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived”. Even at degree level (as fellow historians might attest), there’s not much written about Henry’s wives beyond their infamous endings. SiX flipped all of that around with their hilarious opening number, “Divorced, Beheaded, Live!”

Drawing on familiar reality TV tropes, the wives announced their intention to battle out for the title of most suffering wife, who would subsequently become the leader of the band. This was all about the queens, Henry no longer the subject, but object of their mockery, vitriol (and occasional) sympathy. The musical not only debunked tired historical stereotypes with enthusiasm, but was the best hour of comedy I saw all Fringe.

Megan Gilbert as Catherine of Aragorn and Ash Weir as Anne Boleyn oozed sass as implacable archenemies, united by their common loathing of their ex-husband. But perhaps it was the other four wives – the ones often forgotten about – whose personalities were given a greater chance to shine. Generally remembered by posterity as “the one with the son”, Jane Seymour (played by Holly Musgrave) sang heartbreakingly of a missed life with her newborn baby.

Poor Anne of Cleves has the misfortune to be labelled as the “ugly one”; here Matilda Wickham played a strong, independent woman who enjoyed using her royal pension to the full. Annabel Marlow was a defiant Katherine Howard, unapologetic in her sexuality, while Catherine Parr (Shimali de Silva) recounted a tragic choice between love and duty.

Behind all the one-liners was a relevant message that was skilfully delivered without ever sounding preachy. Six women sang about replacing “history” with “herstory” – a struggle every gender historian knows well, and one every historian needs to engage in.

The show’s writers, Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss, deserve credit for sparkling, witty lyrics that wore contemporary references lightly on their sleeve. “Come on ladies, let’s get in Reformation”, sang Anne Boleyn – and surely she would have channelled Beyoncé way back in 1536?

Perhaps my one criticism would be a lack of staging, but the production team did well to overcome the unglamorous surroundings, with eye-catching costumes that captured the individuality of each wife.

The choreography was a tongue-in-cheek tribute to every Noughties girl band and performed with amazing energy for a 60-minute running time. To quote a favourite reality show phrase, they really did “give it their all”. Part revisionist history, part Spice Girls “Girl Power”, SiX had all the hallmarks of a Fringe classic.

University Challenge – the insider’s story

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Have you seen the film Starter for 10? I have, and it formed the basis of my interest in competing on University Challenge. Like Brian Jackson, the film’s protagonist, I would sit at home ticking off answer after answer – don’t we all? Bellowing answers at the television is one thing, going on the show is quite another.

But, unfortunately, I lack Brian Jackson’s charm and dress sense. The journey from sofa to studio is quite a leap, and, unlike in Starter for 10 (set in 1985), there always exists danger of becoming a meme.

Getting on to University Challenge was almost as challenging (pun intended) as getting into Oxford in the first place. I exaggerate, of course, but the process is a long one. Believe it or not, lots of people want to go on television and make fools of themselves – as I did just this week.

Not one but two stages of internal selection – let’s call it bootcamp – lay between me and my dream of becoming an Internet meme. Two rounds of quizzing done and we had a college team, but we were still not on the show by any means. There was more to come.

Next, the interview, in which we met the people who would decide whether we were telegenic enough. Add to that more quizzing (no idea why). Somehow we got chosen for this thing – it must’ve been my bright red cords which convinced them that we’d gain traction in the Twittersphere.

That and the fact that, unlike the goliaths of this competition (*cough* Magdalen *cough*), Trinity – despite its three Prime Ministers and world-beating deep fried brie – hadn’t competed on the show since 2006.

We hadn’t reached the final since 1971 either, so you can see why we had cause for optimism as we headed to MediaCityUK, Salford.

So we arrived at that concrete jungle, MediaCity, home to ITV as well as two BBC departments. All the clichés I’d heard about Manchester being a rainy place were not belied by our trip that day – the weather seeming more than ominous.

The hour or so before our match, we met the opposing team. It was surreal, sort of like interviews where you want to make small talk but are keenly aware of who your rivals are.

Then we met him – Paxo. With the light of the studio beaming down on us, Paxman entered coolly. “Shall we give this a go then?” he asked, almost sanguinely. The following 30 minutes were the greatest adrenaline rush you’re ever going to get.

This was where the class of 2017 had sat (Eric Monkman, even Freddy Potts). We were standing (or, rather, sitting) in the shadows of giants.

Memes were made – I’ve even been compared to Postman Pat. Apparently my facial expression is one you have only when someone isn’t sharing a box of Maltesers with you. My floppy hair being compared to that of University Challenge presenter Bamber Gascoigne. Jokes aside though, it was a fantastic experience, and something I would wholeheartedly encourage you to apply for.

‘It’s even kind of morale boosting, in a Lana kind of way’

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Lana Del Rey has always reminded me of the taste of flat lemonade. She’s bitter yet blunted, the dampener of her own acidity, and best consumed with some naivety. I’ve always loved the taste. In 2012, Born to Die pronounced Lana Del Rey as the self-crowned queen of melodrama. Since then, three albums have passed. Through grainy vocals and emotionally battered narration she has become the glamoriser of the depressive, and yet simultaneously forced smiles in the face of the shattered American dream. Lust for Life marks the fifth studio album of this narrative.

Some have gone so far as to say that Lust for Life marks the beginning of a new age of Lana. She’s grinning on the album cover for a start. A radical statement given that her last three album covers, when arranged horizontally, create a triptych titled The Headshots of the Despondent.

So, what’s new? Firstly, there’s the long guest list – this is not the one-woman Lana show we’re used to. A synoptic duet with The Weeknd is a title track which, amid all the engineered catchiness and electric beats, exudes a degree of genuineness and gold. Appearances from A$AP Rocky and Playboi Cati help lift Lana out from bottomless melancholic chasm of video-gaming, and give her tracks a bit more substance. Sean Lennon features too. As does a wealthy scattering of nods to music’s past – ‘Lust for Life’ is stolen straight from Iggy Pop, “Don’t worry baby” from The Beach Boys, and “I’ll be your tiny dancer” from an embarrassing teenage journal amongst other places.

But this album isn’t just Lana crooning over vintage vinyl, doing what she’s been known to do best – singing sad songs, thinking about sad boys, taking sad drugs. In Lust for Life, Lana seems to look beyond internal angst for lyrical inspiration. Somewhat watery and self-indulgent vibes dissipate, dejection and cynicism remains.

‘God Bless America – And All The Beautiful Women In It’ is a call for unity. It’s a milky folk-like ballad, an anaesthetic for 2017 (a pretty grey year all-round for women and politics). Whilst penned before the Women’s Marches, Lana taps into the defiant fervour and solidarity that populated our streets last January – “I could tell they [the marches] were going to happen” she says. It’s a far cry from the women that starred in the chorus of ‘This Is What Makes Us Girls’ of 2012, who viciously proclaimed: “we don’t stick together because we put love first”. Her ode to women is followed by ‘When the World Was At War We Kept Dancing’. It’s a lingering melody, with sinister light percussion, and a warning to stay alert during disorientating times – “Is it the end of America?” she asks. Copious amounts. More dazed and drugged each time.

Lust for Life ends on a chirpy note. The barebones piano track ‘Change’ doubles as an anthem of personal empowerment and, with a calm and danceable vibe, ‘Get Free’ is a modern manifesto, encouraging one to to stay positive and not turn into a gloomy piece of fruit. Something like that anyway. Whilst apprehensive about the future, Lana is resilient in taking a positive attitude towards it. It’s even kind of morale boosting, in a Lana kind of way.

But, despite all of this, the album still radiates the Del Rey trademarks we’ve come to expect. Often set in a pastel and chewy paradise, Lust for Life is a sensory overload for even the moderate stoic – sweet, rich and corrupting. Set in a background of heavy strings and tap drums, ‘Cherry’ is an invitation to picnic in the paradise of “cherries, wine, rosemary and thyme”. The album also begins with a song titled ‘Love’. Whilst the sunny strings make Lana sound as happy as we’ve probably ever heard her, she’s still just drooling over some guy. Adios, wider world-view.

All in all, the album tastes positively of Lana lemonade. There’s a subtle reinvention in terms of content – this is not just a constructed line of internal emotion, left purposely exposed to a naked flame, and smoked by Lana for the length of an album. Lust for Life goes beyond that, has a bit more edge, and brings in some optimism. But, at the same time, the tracks (particularly those at the beginning) still do feel as if they’ve been dunked in a pool of sepia ink, caked with sugar, and left to painfully dry on a suburban mantelpiece. Nevertheless, it’s October. And, if someone’s going to bring the summer drinks and disillusion wrapped in a honeycomb glaze to the party, it’s going to be Lana.

My naked truth

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Who tells everyone she meets that she wants to life model in a desperate bid to sex up her meagre summer job prospects? Who clicks ‘interested’ on about seven life drawing classes a term and attends about one? Who sticks up their own shoddy life drawings on their wall?

Reader, it has been I. And probably will continue to be. The world and his wife seems to agree that life drawing is timelessly cool, and I intend to capitalise on this easy kudos until I am physically forced out of the studio for lack of talent.

Life drawing is one of those activities which has been appropriated by the smart set, from the art set, via, one assumes, shameless posers like myself. Yet in recent years, and this summer especially, the dignified purpose of life modelling has, it seems, been somewhat besmirched by such gimmicks as Bristol’s “absinthe-fuelled life drawing” and “mermaid life drawing” in Chelsea (Fishmonger’s offcuts? Cunning drapery? All suggestions welcome).

Ever since the heady car crashes of GCSE art (my final piece was a silhouette fashioned out of chopped up celery…) I’ve loved life drawing: the contained concentration on the model, the explosion of marks and shading on the paper, the still body, and the racing hands. Sure, I was no Da Vinci, indeed most of my drawings have been interpreted as the incorrect sex by encouraging observers, but gender norms are nothing these days, and I still drag myself to life drawing at Oxford more regularly than I do to my compulsory lectures. I’ve seen intricate sketches discarded as soon as the session ends. I’ve sat so close to the model I can practically smell them for want of room in the studio. I’ve battled a noteworthy lack of talent on my part to sporadically keep up this hobby while ballet, Brownies and piano lessons fell to the winds.

The next step, thought I, was to try modelling out for myself. Partly, I felt like I ought to give back what I was getting. Partly, I needed a zero hours job and naively assumed that life modelling more or less amounted to getting paid to be motionless (a specialty of mine) on my own terms, which was an attractive prospect. Beneath it all was my burning curiosity – what would it be like being looked at, but not really seen, by all those people? I’ve written before about how comfortable I feel being naked in front of friends – but the discerning eyes of amateur artists? I felt like I should test my limits.

Sadly, this is not an exposé on my experience of life modelling, because I never went through with it. The lightest spattering of research revealed to me that life models are in fact woefully undervalued, underpaid, and underrepresented in their profession. The Guardian categorised the profession under “wage slaves” in 2002, with Vic Stevens of the Register of Art Models confirming that “You’re not going to be asked to just lie on a mattress and fall asleep”. Woe is me: beyond this my skill set extends no further. Tales of health and safety nightmares, and lack of contracts, sick pay, and rules on touching models show a grim underbelly to what seems like a glamorous bohemia.

A further perusal of the ‘Register of Art Models’ quickly exposes dubious ads for models such as “looking for woman (aged 30+) for whom life modelling is an escape, a hobby and secret (or not so secret) pleasure that is separate from their daily responsibilities/job/life. This will initially be an interview which we will use to pitch for an advertising campaign documentary style short film for a chocolate brand.”

In many of the job proposals there was a demand for more than just the exposed body, but for an exposure of how the model felt about their body – even for a project as trivial as a chocolate advert. Unlike an actor, an athlete, a sex worker, or any other profession that requires the body to be shown in conjunction with character, art modelling is vague, as lacking in guidelines, and definitions as art itself. And while I do, of course, recognise the necessity for such ambiguities (though not the deficient legal, financial and health-related protection) I found myself unable to surrender myself to art: it might not require just my body, it seemed, but also my brain. I’d wanted life modelling to be, as that weird ad put it “a secret… separate from daily life”. And it clearly wouldn’t be.

This, and the gross yuppie art trends emerging left right and centre, dimmed the pre-Raphaelite glow of life drawing for me. I’ll continue my pursuit of poorly charcoal-ed sketches, but I’m yet to conquer my qualms of modelling. I’ll no doubt shout about it if I do, but I think it takes more than a few exhibitionist pretensions.

Oxford Reacts: The Vice-Chancellor’s Comments

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Katt Walton, President of the Oxford University LGBTQ+ Society

As the President of the LGBTQ+ Society, I was shocked and dismayed by Vice-Chancellor Richardson’s comments. I have experienced varying levels of homophobia as a student here from peers and staff which have, without doubt, affected my academic and personal life, sometimes to the point of not feeling safe within my own college, stopping me from using the library or going to dinner. Richardson’s comments expose a nefarious lack of concern for Oxford’s LGBTQ+ community which goes far further than students feeling “uncomfortable”.

As the President of the Society, I have a duty to LGBTQ+ students to safeguard welfare and make sure Oxford is as welcoming and inclusive as possible and as a queer student myself I have a right to feel safe in my home and place of education.

This is a reminder that homophobia has no place in this University because it endangers LGBTQ+ students and disadvantages them (under the Equality Act 2010). I am disgusted with Richardson’s attempt at rectification and I implore the University to realise the effect that homophobic opinions can have and not stand behind the words of Vice-Chancellor Richardson

Flora Pery-Knox-Gore, Bi/pan rep of the OUSU LGBTQ+ Campaign committee

I’m fairly sure Louise Richardson didn’t mean to endorse homophobia, or to dismiss the concerns of the LGBTQ+ community so flippantly, but I don’t think that matters anyway. The effect of her words on the LGBTQ+ community was immediate. I felt compelled to reassure freshers that their tutors were likely to be very tolerant – though the Vice-Chancellor stated she’d had many conversations with upset students – and that if any issues did arise, there are mechanisms in place to protect the rights and safety of students. Her comments show that she’s severely out of touch with the values of the student body. Every college recognises tutors ought to be held accountable for their treatment of minority students. This isn’t an issue of free speech – tutors can hold whatever opinions they want, but some sentiments just aren’t appropriate for a tutorial setting and students shouldn’t be forced to defend their right to exist on a daily basis.

To imply that LGBTQ+ students might profit intellectually from debating homophobes is ridiculous. When I get harassed on the street for holding hands with a girl, my first reaction isn’t gratitude for the learning experience. Just because hatred comes from a tutor doesn’t mean it’s any more rational. That Professor Richardson sees homophobia as something that can be debated shows a dangerous misunderstanding of the nature of hatred. It’s intellectually dishonest to suggest that the only reason people hate, based on sexuality, is that no one’s debated them properly. This issue is really troubling for me and my community, and we await her response eagerly.

Claire Heseltine, Oxford University Rainbow Peer

The idea that homophobia is merely a question of being ‘uncomfortable’ is what confuses me most about the VC’s comments. It’s almost as if she was looking the other way during last year’s vigil for Orlando that took place on the RadCam’s steps, or that she forgot to read the Equality Policy of her own university. Her suggestion that LGBTQ+ students should engage in debate with homophobic academics is naïve and ignorant at best, harmful at worst. She does not seem to realise that what she is asking these students to debate is whether the people who hate them have a point, whether their existence is ‘moral’, and whether they are worth protecting from homophobic violence and hate speech. I would encourage the VC to step out of her own comfort zone and listen to the experiences of LGBTQ+ students (both home and international students) at her University. As she clearly values education so highly, she should be happy to try and learn something.

Eimer McAuley, Second year English student, St. Peter’s

Professor Louise Richardson became something of a role model for me when I read the headline of her Guardian interview: Tackling Elitism can be done, I mean, I went to a rural school in Ireland. Not only was she the first woman to hold the post of Vice Chancellor, she’s achieved it all coming from a rural, nationalist Irish background – not dissimilar to mine. Perhaps that’s why I found her recent remarks particularly disheartening, and the message she’s sent to not only Oxford’s queer students, but by extension all students who face discrimination at the hands of tutors. The message is quite clearly, it’s up to you to tackle homophobic, or any other discriminatory attitudes and not the institution.

This approach to the responsibility of an institution for the attitudes and actions of its representatives is far too reminiscent of what Ireland has seen so many times in the Northern Ireland parliament, it’s an approach which takes no responsibility for the damage those actions can do. The reluctance of leaders to condemn or take responsibility for the homophobic rhetoric of representatives in turn legitimises homophobia on a wider scale in society. From this perspective, the Vice Chancellor’s remarks are reminiscent of so many made by Arlene Foster. Their inability to condemn makes bigots feel comfortable, and the people they represent and have a duty towards, not only uncomfortable but alienated and put at risk.

Roan MacKinnon Runge, Former LGBTQ+ rep, Exeter College

What the Vice Chancellor fails to understand is that homophobia is more than just offending a student. Homophobia does not foster academic debate between an LGBTQ+ student and a homophobic professor. Rather, it shuts down the student’s feeling of being able to speak and their space for learning. No environment for learning is encouraged when one member of the debate is in a position of power and is asking the other—who is younger and less experienced in the adult and academic world—to justify their existence. The outcome is that the LGBTQ+ student feels frightened and invalidated. As the Oxford SU has so well outlined, this has awful impacts on the mental health of LGBTQ+ students.

As a former LGBTQ+ rep for Exeter College, as a person with intent to care for this community, these remarks are frightening. They set a precedent of dismissal of LGBTQ+ feelings and fears as trivial, of our identities as up for debate, of our safety as unimportant. I fear for the effect this will have on current and incoming students and their feeling of belonging here at Oxford.

Dr Eden E L Tanner, Postdoctoral Researcher in Physical and Theoretical Chemistry

I was dismayed to read VC Richardson’s comments at the Times Higher Education Summit. Whilst I understand that she was trying to make a comment on the nature of free speech in higher education, the example she chose to use was completely unacceptable. As an LGBTQ+ researcher at the University, I deserve to work for a University that abides by its Equality Act duties in keeping me safe at work. As a supervisor and a teacher, it’s essential that my students feel like their complaints about harassment will be taken seriously, and Richardson’s comments completely undermine that aim. The ‘apology‘ we were issued failed to take responsibility, and woefully misunderstood the nature of the harm caused.

Teddy Jennings, Second-year Classicist at St Hilda’s

Besides the obvious direct harm Louise Richardson’s comments cause for the LGBTQ+ community, what often is even more distressing is this trope of ‘challenging homophobia through intellectual debate is the best way to beat it.’ When I came out I remember people telling me that my sexuality made them physically uncomfortable, and I always asked them ‘why?’ and they always responded that they didn’t know. Homophobia isn’t a position or stance decided upon from critical thinking and intellectual rigour – it’s a knee-jerk response. Debating homophobia will give you about as much success as debating your gag reflex.

The tutorial system is meant to challenge you, yes, but in the sense of my tutor asking me about Plato’s theory of forms not in the sense of them invalidating my rights as a human being. That Louise Richardson would advocate putting LGBTQ+ students at this university in that position is so incredibly irresponsible, and her reduction of systemic oppression to a matter of feeling ‘uncomfortable’ also neatly lets her pretend that this has nothing to with structural problems within Oxford and the university elite, and everything to do with ‘easily offended’ university students.

Jenyth Evans, Access Rep, Jesus College

There is a whole generation of Oxford students who are excited to have just received their places. Many of them will be following Oxford prolifically on media and news, just as I did before I came to university. And, just like I did, many will face questions about their future at this university from friends and family at home. Personally, I have never felt unable to report anything, and the support from my college has always been fantastic, but the Vice Chancellor’s callous comments feed into harmful stereotypes about Oxford. Many potential applicants have concerns and worries, and I speak to lots from all sorts of backgrounds at Open Days and student tours. They ask if tutors in interviews will try and corner them, and they worry about fitting in when here. One to whom I recently spoke was an LGBTQIA+ potential applicant, who was so excited to hear of the campaigns, events and support for the community at our university. I can’t help but think of them now, and how it must feel to have a senior member of the University say she doesn’t care if a tutor discriminates against them. Her comments are destructive to much of the hard work put in by JCRs, Access Fellows and the outreach network at Oxford.

Richardson stands firm in homophobia row

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Oxford vice-chancellor Louise Richardson has distanced herself from ongoing criticism over her comments about homophobia on campus. 

At a Times Higher Education summit earlier this week, Richardson suggested that it was not her job “to make [students] feel comfortable”. 

Speaking at the summit, Richardson said: “I’ve had many conversations with students who say they don’t feel comfortable because their professor has expressed views against homosexuality. They don’t feel comfortable being in class with someone with those views.

“And I say, ‘I’m sorry, but my job isn’t to make you feel comfortable. Education is not about being comfortable. I’m interested in making you uncomfortable’.

“If you don’t like his views, you challenge them, engage with them, and figure how a smart person can have views like that.”

An open letter to the vice-chancellor strongly condemned her comments, and has gained over 2000 signatures from professors, students, and alumni. Several JCRs also filed individual letters and the comments were also criticised by the Oxford SU LGBTQ+ Campaign.

In a statement released yesterday, Richardson said: “I might have hoped that my track record over many years of speaking out against discrimination in all its forms would have answered some of those concerns.”

She added: “It is a matter of great regret to me that my words are being used to call into question this impressive, sustained endeavour to make Oxford a diverse and inclusive university.”

Richardson’s statement also called on Rebecca Surender, PVC for Equality and Diversity, and Kevin Coutinho, the University’s Head of Equality and Diversity, to explain the University’s position on the issue and its “commitment to tackling discrimination.”

They go on to say that the University is “proud to offer a place of study and work that is both safe and welcoming to Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Trans (LGBT+) students and staff” and that it is “committed to ensuring that LGBT+ staff and students are able to thrive and realise their potential at the University”.

Richardson’s response was criticised by the Oxford SU LGBTQ+ campaign. “The vice-chancellor’s statement seemingly accepts no responsibility for any harm caused,” they said in a statement made yesterday.

“Indeed, she seems keen to stand by her statement that it is not her job to make us feel comfortable, passing responsibility for the bulk of the response to Rebecca Surender… and Kevin Coutinho.”

They added that they do not accept the University’s commitment to diversity whilst the “Vice-Chancellor does not publicly accept and apologise for harm which her comments have caused”.

The campaign further accused Richardson of ignoring the uproar amongst students in particular, highlighting that she only mentioned “a number of colleagues from around the University” in her statement.

In a statement, the Oxford University LGBTQ Society also “vehemently condemned” her response. “This statement is simply a non apology, a way of pushing under the rug what she has previously said”.

St Olave’s Grammar, and the deeper problems with the education system

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On the 29th August, The Guardian broke a story about sixteen Year 12 students at St Olave’s Grammar School being removed from the school, possibly unlawfully, after they ‘failed to get top grades’ in AS level or internal exams. Within a week, the school backed down under pressure from parents, education lawyers and even MPs, and readmitted those students on the 1st September. But the Olave’s story has drawn attention to much broader issues with well-performing state schools throwing their students under the bus for a higher spot in the league tables.

I was a student at Olave’s for seven years, leaving in 2014. The school has highly selective entrance requirements to Year 7, high GCSE requirements to progress to the Sixth Form and, as was commonly the practice while I was there, further ones to continue to Year 13. It has had these requirements for a long time, and a couple of people I knew weren’t allowed back to finish their A-levels when I was there.

What the school did with these students, and the ones this week, was morally wrong, and possibly illegal. It was clearly not done in the best interests of students, but instead in the best interests of the school’s league table position. It is a lot easier to get 94%” A*/B grades if you cut out the bottom 10% of the cohort. These actions were part of the culture of the school, which pushed students hard and let some of them fall by the wayside.

Every student there knew the school was in a way an exam factory, and that it prioritised what it called ‘excellence’ – mostly academically, but also in music or sports. Aydin Önaç, the headteacher who taught us to pronounce his name ‘Önaç, as in, a natural talent,’ was obsessed with achieving good results. Anyone in my cohort or the ones around mine remembers the bizarre assemblies he gave, declaring not only that ‘Bs are not on our radar’ but also that St Olave’s students were ‘five times better’ than those at the local comprehensive.

I won’t deny that I enjoyed my time at Olave’s, or that the teachers treated me well and gave me lots of opportunities. But students who struggled to meet its tough academic standards were left behind, with no support. One of my old school friends is clear that he felt failed by the school for giving him neither academic nor pastoral support when he was having a hard time. If you had academic problems, it was obvious the school didn’t really care about you.

As Olave’s is a local authority maintained school, it is subject to Department of Education guidance that states that it is illegal to exclude a student for non-disciplinary matters, although there is some grey area regarding its applicability to St Olave’s Sixth Form. But what St Olave’s did would be completely legal for schools not maintained by local authorities, which account for two thirds of all state secondary schools in the country.

As Wadham’s SU president last year, one area I worked on was policy relating to academic monitoring and suspension. As it stands, it is in Wadham College policy – and the policy of many other colleges – that students must be maintaining “satisfactory academic performance”. Generally this means working at a 2:1 standard, and it is possible for students who have suspended their studies for health reasons to be refused permission to resume them if they do not achieve a 2:1 in collections before their return. Having spent many meetings with College staff and tutors discussing this, I am certain that the reality of Wadham’s suspension and readmission processes is one which is flexibly applied, takes into account the circumstances of the case, and where people do try and do the best for students. The provision is there, however, and tutors did defend it every time I objected on behalf of the student body, against the principle of throwing someone out on something that isn’t a failing grade.

I hope some of the academics who have followed the St Olave’s story in the news this week also consider it next time they are thinking about their own students, and their own academic policies. Equally, while the NUS has rightfully campaigned against the Teaching Excellence Framework and the marketisation of higher education, it is important to consider how these ruthless attitudes towards students, prioritising prestige and outward displays of achievement over learning and development, affect children and teenagers.

The new royal baby is a political mistake

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1981, 2011. Bunting, people in the streets wearing Chinese-made Union flag hats, and a public holiday. It has become a rule of modern monarchy that young royal couples excite euphoria, and the Windsor family knows it well. In times of economic depression and political discontent, the people in the Palace can be relied upon to instil a docile loyalty and vicarious happiness in the people. Their family is reported on as though it were ours, by lickspittle royal correspondents on rolling news channels. As the announcement of a third pregnancy came on Monday, television journalists kicked into royal reporting mode, making as much hay of an everyday event as possible. Before she could even work out how to pronounce Hyperemesis gravidarum (severe morning sickness), Victoria Derbyshire on the BBC’s morning current affairs programme told us the royal couple were expecting, and that everyone was very happy about it. Whether this was disclosed to her by strong powers of intuition, divine revelation, or some form of mass telepathy, I don’t know. I’m not so much striking at Derbyshire, but rather the television news style that makes all breaking stories glib and speculative. The question must be asked: is everyone really so happy about the new royal baby? Perhaps not.

To put it in the dispassionate (but altogether traditional) terms of the royal family’s biological snakes and ladders game, Wills and Kate have the Heir, and they also have the Spare. After a recent amendment to the Succession Act, female royals like Princess Charlotte now have the same rights of inheritance as their male siblings. The expected new child then, is somewhat surplus to requirements. Not that this should put off any loving couple from bearing children. Except actually, it might. Those many young families across the country struggling to buy a home, or afford a high cost of living, might think again before deciding to have more children. And those faced with Her Majesty’s government’s punitive two-child benefit cap have little choice – they are forced to draw a line under the idea.

Our recent general election, and the European referendum before it, showed the people are at this moment quite prepared to shake up or even shake off the ruling institutions they have grown accustomed to. Having just been treated to a week-long license-fee funded rehash of the 1997 Diana hysteria, I was reminded most of the speed and ferocity with which the country turned on Elizabeth II and her entourage as they hid away in Balmoral Castle. They were seen to have crossed the thin line from magisterial, to ‘out of touch’. The Windsor family might want to keep this in mind as its next generation rises to prominence.

Richardson’s comments are not just offensive – they’re dangerous

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Speaking at the Times Higher Education Summit, Oxford University’s vice-chancellor Louise Richardson spoke about encountering students who feel uncomfortable being in a class with professors who express homophobic views. The answer for them, she said, was to engage with those views and challenge them.

Richardson claimed: “If you don’t like his views, you challenge them, engage with them, and figure [out] how a smart person can have views like that. Work out how you can persuade him to change his mind. It is difficult, but it is absolutely what we have to do.”

If it isn’t immediately obvious why such a sentiment is problematic, I will spell it out. In essence, what Richardson is saying is that in place of understandable outrage, students should grit their teeth and interrogate the intellectual validity of homophobia. There is no such validity. The identities of those who form part of the LGBT+ community are not up for debate and it is not for anyone other than the individuals themselves to analyse their lived experience.

The sort of invalidation which is implicit in Richardson’s comments isn’t just offensive, it’s dangerous. A recent study found that 40% of transgender people have attempted suicide and research by the LGBT foundation found that those who identify as lesbian, gay or bisexual are two to three times more likely than heterosexual people to suffer depression. Oxford has one of the largest LGBT+ communities in Britain and therefore, shouldn’t the Vice Chancellor’s emphasis be on ensuring an inclusive learning environment in which all, regardless of their sexual orientation, are able to thrive?

Of course, we will all, at some point, encounter academic discomfort or a sense of intellectual inferiority at an elite university. But there is an important distinction between a tutor publicly dissecting and criticising one’s ideas and the same tutor promulgating homophobic bigotry. The former is an uncomfortable experience, but one which can be said to promote intellectual rigour, and the latter is prejudice, plain and simple.

Richardson is suggesting that instead of seeing such behaviour as offensive or intimidating, we should all have a long hard think about why clever people can also be homophobes, that maybe after racking our brains we will come to another conclusion other than the obvious: that such people are small-minded and discriminatory and have no place in positions of power in our institutions. Moreover, tutors and professors have agreed to undertake not only an academic role but a pastoral one, which ideally should ensure the safety of students of all backgrounds and identities.

Finally, one struggles to see how such a debate could be fruitful. Even if a student could summon the wherewithal to argue such sensitive matters with their professor, doing so would be counter-intuitive. The professor will, more often than not, be 30 years their senior and hold sway over their marks, their references and perhaps even their final degree result. The odds are stacked against students before they even open their mouths.

Richardson’s comments demonstrate a worrying lack of understanding, and show that she is apparently oblivious to the power dynamic which exists within an educational context. We should all be concerned by her remarks. To paraphrase one student’s remarks on a public forum: homophobia is not, and never will be, a valid intellectual position.

There is an open letter to the Vice Chancellor and Senior Staff which can be signed here if you would like to denounce her comments.

Oxford named best university in the world for second year running

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Oxford University has consolidated its place at the top of the Times Higher Education (THE) world rankings, fending off its historic rival Cambridge.

Oxford came first in the rankings for the second year running, with Cambridge rising from fourth to second. It is the first time that two UK institutions have come first and second in the rankings.

The two universities were followed by the California Institute of Technology, Stanford University and Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).

Oxford vice-chancellor Louise Richardson said: “I am delighted that Oxford has held its position at the top of these global rankings. Success in our field is never an accident; it is achieved by a relentless pursuit of excellence, creative brilliance and a deep commitment to our enduring values.

“To be judged the best university in the world for the second successive year, against the backdrop in which Britain’s role in the world is uncertain, and the place of universities in society open to question, will be a great source of pride for everyone at Oxford, and, I hope, for the whole country.”

Further down the list was Imperial College London in eighth, UCL in 16th and LSE in 25th. Overall, the UK saw 31 of its institutions feature in the top 200.

THE uses 13 different performance indicators to produce the rankings, grouped into five different areas: teaching, research, citations, internationalism, and industry income.

The Top Ten

1 – Oxford University
2 – Cambridge University
3 – California Institute of Technology
3 – Stanford University
5 – Massachusetts Institute of Technology
6 – Harvard University
7 – Princeton University
8 – Imperial College London
9 – University of Chicago
10 – ETH Zurich – Swiss Federal Institute of Technology

Second-year PPEist Sam Wycherley said: “It’s nice to have Oxford on top, but I wouldn’t put too much faith in the impartiality of a newspaper staffed largely by Oxford grads.”