Wednesday, May 21, 2025
Blog Page 850

X-Rated?

Recently the fashion team has been increasingly interested with the taboo on everyone’s lips, sex. Sex is back in fashion, in a way it never has been before. Sheer lace, nipple tassels and leather have been seen on the YSL runway, but while that may be disregarded as the showmanship of the catwalk, there’s also been a sudden arrival of all things sheer, mesh and netted onto the clubbing scene. Club pictures are dominated by statement bras showing through clothes, slip dresses which look like lingerie, and at times lingerie itself being displayed, tucked into jeans or over other tops. This movement doesn’t only rear its head in the midnight hour—we’ve seen it all over celebrity Instagram’s from Lily Rose Depp to Gigi Hadid. However, the nature of going-out adds new levels to the connotations of sex and expectation.

In conjunction with our fashion shoot this week we decided to interview the models about their experiences of clubbing and opinions about this type of fashion. We found that one of the biggest issues is the relationship between the pressure to bare all in an attempt to be accepted in society as an attractive woman compared to the agency of women in reclaiming their sexuality and embracing more revealing clothing as a source of empowerment.

Despite the separate opinions of each model, something that we could all agree on is that to dress up in this way feels ‘good’. While potentially a simplistic sentiment, feeling good about yourself and your body can be quite a ground-breaking achievement for young woman. We are still in a society which pressures girls to self-deprecate, especially when it comes to their physical appearance. Francesca draws from her experience performing on stage to reinforce how fulfilling the sensation of being in control is: “So when you’re on stage everything about you is sassy and confident, and that is part of the illusion…I’m like me 220%, I’m like me squared. [This type of clothing] gives you that sense of being a slightly different person, and a more confident person. I don’t think that in itself is a bad thing, I don’t think that’s vain, I don’t think it’s anything other than a healthy exercise of presenting an identity you don’t have during the day.”

This freedom to value and show off your own skin is not just about having fun in clubs and on stage however, after years of being taught to feel ashamed of your body growing up, being able to express yourself through clothes can be incredibly empowering. Liv tells us about growing up with her larger bust, and feeling the need to cover up, while all her slighter friends who were still working with pre-pubescent bodies dressed as they pleased for parties. She also related an anecdote about being shamed by persistent catcalls and beeping while wearing a bikini top outside a water park when she was 13. Now she can embrace and enjoy her body, ignoring comments and showing as little or as much as she likes. Fliss agrees “I felt very vulnerable going through puberty, realizing that my body would be something subject to the male gaze”. Now she has more control and body-confidence her attitude has changed “I feel like in some ways it is a way of taking control of the male gaze yourself, you know they’re going to look at you, because they’re probably going to do that anyway, so you might as well own it.”

Nicole, however, questions the motives behind wearing such revealing clothing, highlighting that perhaps the main reason women are dressing up in this way is simply to please someone else and attract the opposite sex: “Everyone wears crop tops, everyone wants to show a bit of cleavage, everyone wants to show a bit of a stomach, that’s just become the norm…And because it’s become such a norm, we don’t actually see through that. I think the lines are blurred between what is empowering and what is just revealing.” When the clothes are this revealing it can become hard to discern where the line between self-empowerment and self-objectification due to internalised misogyny lies: “We are kinda being objectified, guys are interested in us, guys like it and we get confused.”

Fliss on the other hand sees this as the most empowering thing about these new movements in fashion; women can demonstrate they are interested in sex, and not shy away from attracting men. A big issue in people’s perceptions of these kinds of clothes seem to stem from the prejudiced idea that women don’t enjoy and desire sex, which is certainly not the case. In fact then this wider range of choice in clothing gives women greater freedom and sexual agency. Fliss suggests “I feel like we’ve embraced what would be considered the masculine idea of going out to pull. Now my friends will support each other and be like yeah do it, go back with someone, have fun, it’s funny.” Francesca agrees and stresses the sense of power behind the feeling of being attractive: “It feels massively empowering and it becomes empowering when you can do something and invite a certain interest from someone if you want it.” Perhaps this fashion is opening peoples’ eyes to female sexual desire through giving young girls more freedom to talk honestly about it. Fliss berates the way culture at the moment views sex from a male point of view : “I found that, before my friends from college, I never really talked about girls feeling pleasure, I don’t think I ever heard anything about it the whole time… that’s the kind of culture which makes people more objectified than anything that you can wear, when girls are participating in sexual activity with guys, and the guys are the only ones that anyone thinks about …Sex education in schools just makes me so angry because it just feeds into all the misogynist narratives, it’s just terrible.”

While this kind of clothing does enable women to take the reins to an extent, and be proud of their bodies, the models were also aware of the negative body pressures it produces: all the potential positives do not overshadow the ever present notion of the ‘ideal’ body to which everyone should ascribe. Francesca explains that “fashion is now more to do with how to accentuate your body than it is to do with the garments themselves, it’s all how to look good, how to make your waist look tiny and your boobs look big as opposed to anything else… you’ve got clothes now moving towards being body elitist, and the lack of choice in fashion at the moment means that if people don’t have the ‘ideal’ body they can’t get involved, and the ‘ideal’ body currently is hypersexualised.”

Liv agrees, and explains that the pressure to wear the new ‘sexy’ trends isn’t always healthy: “I really don’t like it though when people talk about the new sexy or the new confident because for me, I would never wear that kind of thing—does that mean I’m not fitting in to the new sexy look, because I’m refusing to buy one? By labelling it as this new thing, it always seems to target what you as woman must do to be feeling confident, which kind of defeats the point.” Fashion may be pushing the boundaries with these revealing garments, but are they just cashing in on a feminist trend and creating another set of pressures for young girls?

Ultimately of course the place for this type of clothing is on a night out clubbing. Our models have conflicting views on this space. Speaking especially from her experience of clubbing in London, Nicole highlights the superficiality of the entire thing: “Clubs have become this business, they’re just used to having the same kind of girls coming along and letting the same kind of girls…With high-end London clubs I feel like it’s always going to be a thing, image is everything, without the image there is no club.” She gives anecdotes of dressing up for a club as a group, and being ranked in the queue outside in levels of attractiveness: “We have kind of become passive puppets to clubs and just conform.”

For Liv on the other hand the club is a space of increased freedom: “I actually feel more comfortable with it in a club environment, because I’m feeling more confident anyway, but also when you’re on a night out people can be more experimental with the way they dress. I actually feel far less confident in things like basic t-shirts because they make my boobs far more obvious, and I’m far more conscious of that than I am in a mesh top and bra, especially as the sexualisation that then happens is even more annoying because they should just be on staple parts of your wardrobe, rather than something you have put forward on your own terms.”

Clearly there are conflicting views on the sticky dance floors, but Fransesca importantly highlights the singular nature of the clubbing space. The sexualized clothing has far more power in a club because it is naturally a hot-bed of sexual tension, as “there isn’t that much interaction with people verbally, it is another kind of performance. You go into that club space and it is a kind of stage, you’re dancing, you’re interacting with people non-verbally, you’re using visual cues…it is a weird space which suspends societal norms and rules which means that not only can people dress in this weird thing, but they behave towards each other in a very different way.” The experimental clothing that is adorns Cellar goers is certainly part of this ‘performance.’

It is clear to see that the main issue when it comes to these topics is freedom. Even with a select group of four models it is clear that opinions and experiences of club fashion and increased sexualisation in fashion differ widely. While the conclusion that women should be able to dress as sensually or modestly as they please should not be a revolutionary one, it seems to be the outlook most needed. For some the lace bralette is a source of empowerment, for others, it is simply a bowing down to pressures from the fashion industry and society. No new trend, garment or shoot can be named categorically empowering or even feminist, but one thing we can do is open up the conversation, consider the implications of these changes and above all push for greater freedom for women.

Does Oxford create a class of its own?

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When I first came to Oxford, I was introduced to the idea that the University is like a sausage maker. No matter what class you belonged to when you arrived at Oxford, you become part of the Oxford class when you leave and re-enter the world. Although this is reassuring in terms of employment prospects for working-class students, for me it raised anxieties about how my background forms a part of my identity during my time here.

I was told, in no uncertain terms, that everyone knows which fork to use for what by the time they graduate. My reaction was immediately defensive. I already knew about place settings–I’ve waitressed for three years. At the peak of my imposter syndrome, I was beginning to feel like a walking specimen of Oxford’s ‘look, we do let in non-privately educated students’ outreach mantra, and becoming a sausage wasn’t the most appealing alternative.

When I told my friends at school that I was applying to Oxford, the unanimous response was: “But won’t everyone be so posh?” Having spent a year here now, I can say the answer is both yes, and no. Everyone is familiar with the statistics: only 14 per cent of sixth formers attend independent schools yet, from 2012-2014, they made up 38 per cent of Oxford’s intake. However, even when we reduce the issue of social diversity at Oxford to statistics, it’s more complicated than that. One in five of the state school students admitted going to a grammar school, which otherwise only makes up five per cent of the population, and although children on free school meals account for 15 per cent of the population, they make up one per cent of Oxford’s admissions.

Oxford remains socially unequal, elitist, and unrepresentative of the UK’s population. However, these statistics simplify the issue. It means we take private/state school as shorthand for middle/working class or privileged/underprivileged. I’ve found that the reality of class integration and representation at Oxford is more complicated than this polarisation allows. To form a long term solution to access problems, we need to take into account the nuances of ‘privilege’ and what Oxford is really like for working-class students.

No one ever encouraged me to apply to Oxford, there was never a ‘hey, maybe this is for you’ moment. Coming from a working-class village and attending the local grammar school, Oxbridge didn’t factor into societal expectations. Grammar schools effectively replace private schools in Northern Ireland, claiming the top ten places in the region. Despite this, no one from my school in recent history had ever gone to Oxford. When I got in, it felt like a lottery win.

Unsurprisingly, when I arrived in Oxford for fresher’s week, it was a culture shock. People seemed to already know each other, or of each other, and ‘what school did you go to?’ was a go-to conversation starter. Yet, despite this start, my expectations of ‘posh’ private school kids were disproved by the friends I made—they were grounded and friendly regardless of their background. This doesn’t mean that I haven’t felt aware of my background as a part of my identity here. At times, the sense of being in an institution that perpetuates elitism is overwhelming.

It can be alienating when I’m watching student-written drama where students throw on a pair of Adidas superstars and play what seems to be a parody of state-educated students, or when I’m listening to someone— whom I really suspect has never stepped foot on a council estate—talk like an authority about benefits culture.

It’s the same feeling that arises when yet another person asks the dreaded ‘what school did you go to’ while in the Bridge smoking area. I have not felt like I have assimilated in terms of class, or lost my identity to the ‘sausage maker’ that is Oxford. Yet, I have felt like I’m participating in an elitist institution that is so painfully far removed from what I’ve seen of society.

I’m not suggesting that people who received a better education or come from a privileged background can’t get involved in the conversation about class in Oxford, but it’s important to accept the limitations of their privileged perspective. You might know the statistics off by heart, but, if you don’t know the people, it isn’t the same.

Class itself isn’t a black and white issue—it can’t be understood purely by looking at someone’s schooling. Although I’ve never received any kind of private tuition, and spent my childhood in a low-income family, I’ve enjoyed living in financial security since I was an adolescent. In contrast, some students have attended schools with significant fees and have simultaneously dealt with financial stress throughout their schooling.

Two students I spoke to both experienced having one of their parents declare bankruptcy while they were attending fee-paying schools. One second generation student at Oxford said: “My sisters and I went to school every day thinking it was our last. At times we missed weeks of school because we couldn’t afford the fees.”

The impact this could have on a student should not be underestimated. This same student said that her skeleton became “permanently changed due to stress in my back muscles, because I was constantly so anxious about money”.

Unfortunately, this story is not as uncommon as one would like. Another student spoke to me about her experience of when her parents became bankrupt. While her two brothers were immediately transferred to state schools, she stayed at her private school due to her ambitions to study medicine. This pressure caused her such stress that it led her to “lose chunks of hair due to the stress of having to get a scholarship”.

One feeling both students shared was the need to remain silent. Both spoke about feeling like they couldn’t talk about their financial struggles here as they felt “lumped into a category of extremely wealthy students, despite receiving the maximum student loan” and of their experience of being “made to feel ashamed of having attended a private school, whilst being silenced on my financial struggles”.

There is a complex hierarchy that goes beyond the private school versus state school view when it comes to the people’s privilege and its role in admissions at Oxford. It is a complexity that is rarely ever discussed.

Though many private schools supply their students with an invaluable social network when at Oxford, this is most obvious when looking at parts of the London private school network. The benefits of this network are most obvious in extra-curricular activities. When you’re running for positions in various societies, connections are invaluable. This can make working-class and state school educated students feel like outsiders who have to set off on the wrong foot simply due to lack of connections.

On this, one second-year said he had to get past “a lot of internalised anxiety and self-doubt compared to my middle class friends who were well-connected and so confident”. Another said that it is only at the Union that they have been made to feel aware of their class.

This issue manifests itself differently in student drama—it stems from the extra experience available at private schools. One thesp, despite doing “as much theatre as physically possible in school”, still feels disadvantaged when competing with people who were in half a dozen shows a year in school and have had opportunities to use high tech equipment. To them, it seems as though “it doesn’t matter how much effort you put into being a pink lady in year eleven, you’ll always be overshadowed”.

The class barrier at Oxford is evident not only socially, but also academically. Once you get past the process of interviews, the academic disparity between candidates of different backgrounds is still an issue at Oxford. Whilst the University can invest heavily in outreach, it has to be willing to invest more time in students from working-class/ state school backgrounds once they are here. The first issue is obviously one of confidence. Personally, I have been lucky enough to have a tutor who has ensured that I feel affirmed in my right to my place here, however my experience is by no means universal. As one English student put it: “You think the interview process should have been enough to prove you’re worth your place here, but I still felt like I had to prove myself to my tutors, because academically I have always been three steps behind.”

Yet, this isn’t the only issue. The experiences of many students suggest that Oxford, and its tutors, are catering directly for privately educated students. For example, one first year said that they have no idea what grammatical cases are for old English “because the tutor skimmed over them as all bar two of us in the class had studied Latin and already understood them”.

At my school, the suggestion of doing Latin would have got you laughed out of the room faster than you could say ‘Veni, vidi, vici’ (or ‘et cetera’, come to think of it). Another student, who recently sat their finals, said one of the questions was in Latin, despite this not being part of her degree. She says that, if she had been able to read it, that is the question she would have answered.

For the most part, discrimination from tutors towards students of less privileged backgrounds is simply in what they presume. One student described to me how her tutor had told her that Wordsworth’s ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ was probably his most widely read poem, but that her parents probably wouldn’t know of it. She responded: “I’ve been reading Wordsworth since I was six, we know who Wordsworth is.”

So whilst the University might want to increase its intake of students from state schools, it doesn’t necessarily cater to their needs when they’re here. At times, it can be the academics themselves—who are in a position of authority—compounding the feeling that people here, no matter how liberal or pro-Corbyn they are, ‘just don’t get it’. Though this statement is difficult to unpack, so is the feeling. It’s one of feeling as though your perspective here is assumed, and so not listened to or valued.

I think this is where the real risk of feeling like a product of the Oxford sausage factory comes in—when people feel that their identity as a working-class student is brushed aside, and their insight into working-class issues is trivialised. Classism does exist here in Oxford, and I can tell you that, based off the conversations I’ve had this week, it is not just a statistic. One student I spoke to said a friend had told her that she “couldn’t speak about working-class issues anymore”. By being at Oxford, she was “no longer working-class”. In contrast, another experienced a friend tell her that her parents were unfit because they didn’t have university degrees or ‘proper jobs’.

While it’s true to say that classism exists here, it does too in society at large. There will always be people who will put others down because of their backgrounds, but if people in Oxford feel they are being denied the right to a working-class identity, we face a much bigger issue. It’s horrible to feel underrepresented or alienated here because of your background. It is worse still to be told that your background is now irrelevant, and that a part of your identity has been erased.

The emergence of new initiatives such as OUSU’s Class Act are vital in providing students with a platform for their issues to be voiced and represented. It’s clear that such a platform is necessary given that Class Act has already revealed that over 70 per cent of respondents to a survey believed “your class was a barrier when integrating at University”.

Speaking to Cherwell on the need for the initiative, Jaycie Carter (Class Act co-chair) said: “Currently, the needs of students represented by the Class Act campaign—working-class, low income, state comprehensive school educated and first generation students—are neither adequately discussed nor addressed by the University or by our colleges.”

By bringing working class students together in campaigning, having a unified voice is legitimising in itself. Through campaigns like this, there is a chance that the voice of working-class students can be heard at Oxford. Through this, we can mobilise change.

In terms of ways of making the student body more socially diverse, I don’t think there is any quick fix solution. One JCR Access rep told me: “Though the University is putting in a load of hard work, it’s a long term campaign, so success can’t be immediately measured.”

I think a good starting point would be to demystify Oxford. It really isn’t as hard to get into as I was led to believe in Sixth form. Bright students from under-privileged backgrounds need to be told that Oxford is within their reach too, and that Oxford holds a place for them where their identity can be valued—it’s time to finally debunk the myth of the sausage maker once and for all. Only then can we really break class barriers.

“A fascinating interpretation of Racine’s masterpiece”

Full spoilers for Phèdre follow

Phèdre, Jean Racine’s carefully constructed and powerfully visual seventeenth century tragedy, is a text that is familiar to almost every first-year student of French at Oxford. Written entirely in Alexandrine verse, based on Euripides’s Hippolytus and incorporating elements of Seneca’s Phaedra, Racine’s poetry depicts a tale of dark human desires and motivations, in a way that brings the eponymous Phèdre’s fear and guilt to the forefront. The recent production of Ted Hughes’s English translation of Phèdre, directed by Sarah Houllion and Lily Begg, and performed in the New College cloisters, brings this tale of cursed fate, forbidden love, and dynastic crisis to life.

Phèdre is the wife of Theseus, King of Athens, but falls in love with her stepson, Hippolytus. Believing that Theseus had died while he had been away fighting monsters, Phèdre confesses her feelings to Hippolytus. After proclaiming her love, however, she learns that Theseus is in fact alive and on his way back to his family in their home town of Trozen. It also surfaces that Hippolytus is in love with Aricia, who comes from the family of his father’s political enemy. In a state of despair, Phèdre follows the advice of Oenone, her nurse and confidante, and lets her lead Theseus to believe a fabricated story that Hippolytus tried to rape Phèdre. In a rage, Theseus exiles Hippolytus and calls upon mighty Neptune to curse him. Hippolytus subsequently falls into the clutches of a vicious sea monster and perishes. Theramène, Hippolytus’s tutor and confidant, brings the news of the fatal encounter back to Trozen. Phèdre reveals the truth, proclaiming Hippolytus innocent and then dies on stage after taking a Medean poison, shortly after a remorseful Oenone has drowned herself. Theseus, horrified at his lack of judgement, vows to preserve the memory of his son and treat Aricia as his daughter.

From the minute one steps into the open-air theatre, ingeniously set up in the cloister of New College, an atmosphere of the supernatural is apparent. The slowly setting sun illuminated the beautifully intricate stonework with a hazy glow: the perfect backdrop to a play where the characters are descended from Gods, yet are subject to higher forces beyond their control. The mise-en-scene is minimalist, yet highly effective: a single pink chaise-lounge framed by two tables. The seat of many characters at the height of their emotional intensity, it also serves as the deathbed of Phèdre as the poison took its toll. The on-stage musicians, Claire Frampton and Patrick Hall, mark the transition between acts with skilful pieces, conjuring up an ominous sense of foreboding as the tragedy unfolds.

Jeevan Ravindran shines in the role of Phèdre. Capturing every aspect of a character that is ailing in body and mind, a presence that fills the entire stage, Jeevan’s gestures and varying tone of voice embody Phèdre’s overpowering fear, guilt and paranoia, as do the powerful wide-eyed gazes at the audience. Particularly impressive was the scene of Phèdre’s death at the end of the play—despite having spent the past three hours watching the drama unravel, I was on the edge of my seat, transfixed on Phèdre as she took her last breaths. Oenone’s part in the tragedy is portrayed with skill and subtlety by Hannah Rose Kessler, who seems particularly influential over Phèdre when coaxing her into following her wicked scheme, although her version of the character is less conniving than my initial reading of the text suggested.

The role of Hippolytus is skilfully played by Arthur Wotton, conjuring up both his disgust at his step-mother and love for Aricia, whose determination as the sole survivor of the family feud is beautifully captured by Julie Dequaire.

Other impressive performances include that of Jon Berry, who masterfully took on the role of Théramène, both as a friend to Hippolytus and the bearer of the news of his death. His lengthy monologue, which describes the fatal encounter with the sea monster, is delivered with considerable power, but at the same time with a quiet sense of grief. Similarly, Theseus, played by Thomas Rawlinson, commands the stage as a powerful presence, showing particular anger when passionately invoking Neptune to harm his son.

All in all, I was fascinated to watch this interpretation of Racine’s masterpiece: it was one that I felt softened Phèdre’s literary image as the self-hating figure of shame, instead portraying her as the victim of the gods who control her. On a beautiful evening, in a perfect setting, this play captured me from beginning to end, providing a slightly new take on the character who has one of the most famous epithets in all of French literature: ‘la fille de Minos et Pasiphaé’.

“Precisely the kind of theatre I would like to see more of in Oxford”

With Finals and Prelims lurking around the corner for some, there is no better antidote to stress than ignoring your studies entirely and escaping into the fantastical realm of comedy. Jack Bradfield’s Garden not only delivers on escapism, but provides laughs in spades. The play is an absurd hotchpotch of ideas, blasting bass at the audience while the characters enter their virtual stasis, and referencing everything from Don Quixote and Super Mario 64 to the time-honoured tradition of Wetherspoons pubs, all effortlessly synthesised.

Garden’s premise alone demands attention: in the not-too-distant future, scientists are convinced that humanity is living in a simulation, “like the world is scripted […] running on a programme”. The audience follows a group of workers at a research centre where the study of phytology has been deemed obsolete and is to be replaced with a supercomputer. Everyone in Garden is looking to make sense of the nonsensical world in their own unique way—Elizabeth works almost ascetically, preferring to talk to plants rather than humans, while Jessica cannot comprehend jokes, so forces people to repeat them so she may record them. These individual methods only alienate them from each other, however, as they are wrapped in self-interest.

The production’s defining feature is its dry sense of humour. Characters lack any kind of filter to their speech and their bluntness makes them some of the most socially incapable (but immensely likeable) misfits on the planet. The acting on show is phenomenal, everyone demonstrating an adept sense of timing, holding comic silences with ease. Some lines are just so quotable that they will never lose their charm, “Kids shit in the Eden Project”, “You’re not a veggie spider”, and “You’ve dismembered my fucking aloe vera” being some of my personal favourites. The sense of irony is strikingly clever: viewers will delight at noticing that the aloe vera Elizabeth works so hard to protect is eventually blended into cocktails at her own leaving party. This party scene, incidentally, is also the most intelligently composed scene in the play, dipping in and out of individual conversations seamlessly, almost in the manner of a sitcom.

Much of this effect is evoked by the narrator-figure, a mysterious entity exercising full control over her subjects and flaunting that omnipotence before the audience. Her distantly scientific idiolect reduces human behaviour to its constituent components, further satirising the characters’ follies. The narrator always manages to find the most opportune moment to release the worst character possible from stasis at the worst possible time, normally when another is spilling their darkest desires. She replays characters’ pasts at will, forcing them to re-enact painful moments from their childhood at symbolic moments in the present. The narrator’s role in the drama raises the most stimulating questions about the world being constructed onstage, making her the greatest asset to its meaning.

Were that not mind-boggling enough, Garden throws a convention-defying curveball towards the end, drastically changing the tone of the play. What is supposed to be cathartic comes across as disturbingly ambiguous. The aftermath allows for an incredibly touching scene, but whereas the false ending denotes a masterful playing with form, the real ending feels like it struggles to actually end in the looming shadow of what has passed. Unfortunately, this is also true of some of the gags, some of which are strained, some having three punchlines, and which overstay their welcome. A minor complaint, and one which did not impact my overall judgement of the play, but worth mentioning nonetheless.

All in all, Garden self-assuredly toes the stylistic line between sitcom and comic play. Its originality and vivacity are infectious, made even more affecting by its ability to hold a mirror up to our own antics and quests for purpose. This is precisely the kind of theatre I would like to see more of in Oxford, and I look forward to Bradfield’s future pursuits. For now, however, as I return to my study, I shall remember what Garden taught me, that “to waste time, it seems, is to be human”.

Oxford’s historic skyline will “absolutely not” be damaged, despite “high rise” plans

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Oxford’s historic college and university buildings will “absolutely not” be damaged despite new plans for “taller” and “continental-style” developments in Oxford, according to Councillor Alex Hollingsworth.

Councillor Hollingsworth, who is reponsible for Planning and Regulatory Services on the City Council, dimissed the “headline fantasy” of The Oxford Mail, who reported that “high-rise” buildings were set to be erected across the city.

New options from the Local Plan, viewed as the blueprint for new building developments, will be consulted upon during the summer.

Draft proposals by the City Council would “end blanket height restrictions” and “favour developments that use space most efficiently”, according to The Oxford Mail.

These changes are thought to be inspired by how other European cities such as Barcelona are planned and organised, and could help deliver 10,000 new homes over the next two decades.

Speaking to Cherwell, Councillor Hollingsworth said: “There’s no high-rise: that’s The Oxford Mail headline writer and not what the report has said.

“There’s a long standing rule in Oxford that buildings cannot be above a certain height limit. The issue with that is that there’s a lot of low buildings, and what we’re talking about is not tower blocks or twenty or thirty storey buildings—nothing absurd like that.”

Councillor Hollingsworth admitted that there would be “five, six, seven story buildings”, but these would be would be seen outside the city centre, in areas like Summertown, Headington, Cowley, Blackbird Leys and Littlemore, which are referred to as “district centres”.

He added: “What we’re doing is meeting a need for housing in Oxford which is huge, and one of the indicators of that is that it’s one of the most expensive cities to live in across the UK”.

Nevertheless, in the suburbs where the developments would be concentrated, there would be denser buildings—meaning that there could be flats or apartments above shops, while there would be community centres and transport hubs on the ground level. This form of structure is common in European cities such as Vienna and Berlin.

According to Councillor Hollingsworth, the response from the University has been “pretty positive” so far, with the University of Oxford “thoroughly engaged” in discussions about the future of the city’s building developments.

“Make space for us as we are”

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OUSU and JCRs across Oxford have voted to donate money to newly launched student campaign Common Ground, which aims to challenge institutional racism at the university and increase the numbers of BME and lower income candidates applying.

A motion passed last week by Pembroke JCR committed them to a donation of up to £150. It acknowledged that Oxford remains, “overwhelmingly middle class and white, both demographically and in terms of its curricula”, and that Common Ground will “examine Oxford’s colonial past in the context of its present-day inequalities and interrogate Oxford’s imperial legacy.”

Pembroke JCR President, Hope Oloye told Cherwell: “Common Ground sounds like a great campaign.

“Looking at the modern day manifestations of Oxford’s imperialist past is an incredibly worthy cause.”

She continued: “Pembroke JCR is committed to promoting the equality of all of our members and so providing funding for a platform from which we can discuss race that otherwise wouldn’t take place is the least we can do as a body to support our BME members.”

Further JCRs that have donated include Regent’s Park, Hertford, Balliol, Trinity, New, and St Peter’s.

There are also further motions due to be debated in coming weeks.The amounts donated range from £100 to £300.

Only Lincoln JCR voted against proving any money whatsoever.

Oxford University Student Union (OUSU) is giving £350 from its ‘project incubator’ scheme.

The money will come from a discretionary fund that totals £2,000 and that can be donated to any student run project at the University.

Common Ground plans to use the money raised to hold a symposium to debate issues such as the relationship between class, race and admissions, decolonising the curriculum, and what it means in 21st Century Britain to be “young, gifted and black”.

This will take place over the weekend of 10-11 June, alongside talks, poetry readings, film screenings, and art exhibitions.

The project has received national attention from Vogue UK.

In an interview as part of Vogue’s ‘Girl on a Mission’ series, Beth Davies-Kumadiro, one of the founders of the project, defined the project via four key words: decolonise, contest, engage, support. Speaking of decolonisation, she said: “When people from different backgrounds come here, Oxford should make space for us as we are, not just accept the “culturally acceptable to upper class and white” bits, and crush the rest.”

Expanding on the topic of “contest”, Davies-Kumadiro continued: “So much of the status quo is taken for granted as just “what Oxford is like” when freshers arrive.

“Honestly, a lot of elite networking still goes on at Oxford, and the gross over-representation of those from elite backgrounds makes for quite a bizarre social scene.

“You quickly get used to people calling anything they didn’t come across at school “edgy”; there’s some exoticisation of blackness and hair-grabbing; people who wear black-tie regularly also try to throw grime nights.

“At Common Ground we want to disrupt any idea that this kind of behaviour is “normal”. It isn’t. So, we’re calling out the stuff we don’t like, explaining why we don’t like it, and taking the piss out of it a bit.

“Basically, instead of giving up on Oxford, we’re contesting what it can mean to be here.”

A second year student at New College said: “I’m so glad that students are organising to accomplish what the University can’t, or won’t.

“At my college and across the University there’s still a distinct under-representation of students from black and minority ethnic, and more socio-economically deprived communities.

“Clearly something must be done to encourage more people from these backgrounds to apply, and to help ensure that they are valued members of the university when here.”

A spokesperson for Common Ground told Cherwell: “We have had amazing support from most colleges and college reps at every college are organising an event at their [college] for the weekend of the symposium.”

But some in Oxford did oppose the donations.

One Balliol student told Cherwell: “I understand that Oxford is still too white and dominated by the middle and upper classes, but the University is working hard on this and runs a lot of outreach work. Why do we need to donate money towards it as well?”

The campaign follows revelations reported by Cherwell in January that Oxford made an offer to just 45 black applicants at undergraduate level in its 2016 round of admissions, compared to 2,050 to white applicants.

This meant that while 26.3 per cent of white applicants received an offer, just 16.8 per cent of Asian and 16.7 per cent of black applicants did.

Pembroke condom cock-up

Students at Pembroke College have been left embarrassed and confused after receiving condoms supplied to them by the JCR and OUSU that were much smaller than advertised.

Undergraduates who picked up the Manix Mates Conform condoms from the JCR contraceptive dispenser found them 20 milimetres shorter than the Durex Pleasure Max previously supplied, without warning from the JCR welfare team.

With a circumference twelve per cent smaller than their Durex counterparts, the Manix condoms have created some problems for members of the undergraduate body.

One Pembroke student, who did not want to be named, told Cherwell: “The condoms were hard to put on and felt quite uncomfortable. It was slightly embarrassing that it took me so long to put one on!

“This is not a problem I had had before, so it was a strange experience.”

Pembroke JCR Welfare rep, Immie Hobby, said she realised it was a “widespread problem” when she started to receive more and more messages complaining about the condoms’ size.

She later explained that changes on the OUSU welfare order form, seen by Cherwell, were to blame.

“We ordered as usual from OUSU, but they’ve got a different supplier.

“Messages start rolling in from people like: ‘have you tried the new condoms yet? Have you heard anything weird? Because they’re just a bit small. My girlfriend’s coming next weekend.’”

OUSU’s supplies have changed since Durex condoms stopped being sold to non-mainstream outlets, Cherwell learned.

“OUSU have ten different options— there are some thinner ones, bigger ones,” explained Hobby.

“But this is just the standard set that we usually get, and it’s the College welfare reps’ job across the University to fill in the supply form. OUSU decide what goes on the supply form.”

She added: “They were too small for […] a good number of people.

“They [OUSU] just put trust in the supplier, and this is what has happened. These are the direct consequences.”

Sandy Downs, OUSU Vice- President for Welfare and Equal Opportunities, told Cherwell that she was “concerned” about the issues at Pembroke College: “Good sexual health is very important and OUSU is proud of the work it’s done in supplying subsidised products to students.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this issue, but if you have any concerns please contact me or your welfare officer who can contact me on your behalf.

“OUSU did indeed change condom supplier this year, as the previous products ordered are no longer produced, but your welfare officers were notified of this change and all packets remain clearly labelled with their size and are of the same quality as before.”

The issue is yet to be resolved, with smaller condoms still on offer from the college’s vending machine.

“We’re going to go back to OUSU and say: there’s a problem here,” Hobby said.

“The larger men at Pembroke have been let down. For the time being, the welfare team are refunding members of the college who buy their own contraception, which is much more expensive for the JCR that using OUSU-supplied condoms.”

Oxford scientists to build world’s largest telescope

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Construction has begun on the world’s largest optical telescope, a crucial component of which is being built by scientists from Oxford University.

Situated in Chile’s Atacama Desert, the European Extremely Large Telescope (E-ELT) will provide images of the universe in unprecedented detail thanks to the HARMONI spectrograph, an instrument designed and built by Oxford scientists.

HARMONI is a fine-tuned instrument designed to take 4000 images simultaneously, each in a slightly different colour. The combination of a large number of images taken in both the visible and near infra-red spectrum will allow the imaging of planets, stars, and galaxies in ground-breaking detail.

Niranjan Thatte, Principal Investigator for HARMONI and Professor of Astrophysics at Oxford’s Department of Physics, told Cherwell: “For me, the E-ELT represents a big leap forward in capability, and that means that we will use it to find many interesting things about the universe that we have no knowledge of today.

“It is the element of ‘exploring the unknown’ that most excites me about the E-ELT. Equally, the E-ELT will be an engineering feat, and its sheer size and light grasp will dwarf all other telescopes we have built to date.”

Don picks up Royal Society prize

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Oxford University Research Professor Andrew Wiles has been awarded the Copley Medal, the Royal Society’s oldest and most prestigious award.

The prize is awarded annually for outstanding achievement in scientific research.

Wiles is one of the world’s most prolific mathematicians, known for his proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem.

In 1993, after seven years of intense private study at Princeton University, Wiles announced he had found proof. In solving the puzzle of the Theorem, he created entirely new directions in mathematics.

Since then Wiles has won many prizes, including the Abel Prize in 2016—the Nobel Prize equivalent in mathematics.

Speaking about his latest award,Professor Wiles told Cherwell: “It is a great honour to receive the Copley medal and to join such a distinguished group of scientists and mathematicians.

“Although its history does not quite reach back to the age of Fermat it does include Gauss, Weierstrass, Klein and Cayley all of whose work I have used many times in my career as well as in the solution of Fermat’s problem.

“It is a particular pleasure to accept the award now that I am back researching in Oxford where I was a student.”

Martin Bridson, Head of the Oxford Mathematics Department—who got to know Wiles in Princeton in the early 1990s—said: “The award of the Copley Medal to Sir Andrew Wiles is a fitting recognition of the profound effect that his work has had on modern mathematics.

“He has received many other accolades following his proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem in 1994, including the Abel Prize in 2016. But it is particularly pleasing to see his name added to the list of winners of the Royal Society’s oldest and most prestigious prize, alongside Benjamin Franklin, Dorothy Hodgkin, Albert Einstein and Charles Darwin, as well as two of our illustrious emeriti, Sir Michael Atiyah and Sir Roger Penrose.”

Wiles studied at Oxford and Cambridge, before holding a professorship at Princeton University for nearly 30 years. In 2011, he moved back to Oxford as a Royal Society Research Professor.

The UK education system needs to evolve

Nothing in Biology makes sense except in the light of evolution” as Theodosius Dobzhansky once said. And it still rings as true as ever. Without an understanding of evolution, observations and experiments on organisms could never be satisfied with reason. We would be blind towards explanations of why organisms are what they are and behave the way they do. The intricate delicacy of a mammal’s circulatory system; the cooperation of eusocial insects; the artistic, profound nature of a peacock’s tail would all remain merely phenomena without purpose.

Evolution provides reason and explanation behind these phenomena and to all adaptation across the natural world. So why is it that this principle, upon which the rest of biology is built, is so deeply neglected by the UK education system? I have had to wait until the second year of my undergraduate degree course to thoroughly delve deeper into Darwin’s theory of natural selection. The teaching of evolution in schools does not fairly represent its keystone importance in biology.

Let us consider an example. In the OCR GCSE Biology B course, 48 topics are covered yet evolution is only explicitly taught in two of them. The vast majority of the topics are taught with a disregard to evolutionary thinking even though it underpins their logic. Consequently, it is hard to believe that students who choose not to pursue further education will possess even a basic understanding of evolution. Students are exposed to the fundamental principles of maths, chemistry and physics in a manner suitable to their importance, but this isn’t the case with biology. Why?

The human-centralised view of biology found throughout our society has perforated our schools, making it clear that the current teaching of biology is aimed at future medical students, rather than any sort of practicing scientist. The importance for schools to inspire new doctors can’t be stressed enough, but for some reason, this currently appears to be a trade-off, limiting the teaching of evolution. This is flawed: a greater understanding of evolution through a more fair representation in school teaching would be helpful to everyone, especially doctors. This is highlighted when we consider the problem of antibiotic resistance, now recognised as one of the major crises facing our species. A better, general understanding of how evolution works across society would help to combat antibiotic resistant pathogens, as the current misuse—stemming from ignorance of the consequences—would cease. People are much more likely to do something if they understand why they should do it. Doctors would be more inclined to stop over-prescribing and people would be more aware of the importance of finishing their prescriptions.

The other major point as to why evolution is not currently taught to a respectable level is probably the one you expected as you began reading this article. As a former Catholic school student, I speak from personal experience when I say the teaching of religion hindered by progression as a biologist. The hypocrisy from lesson to lesson and teachers who wouldn’t listen made my time at school both frustrating and alienating. Religion has long enjoyed manipulating facts which are detrimental to its stature and somehow shoe-horn them into aligning with religious teaching. The lifespan of the earth, the big bang and now evolution all have alternative explanations from a religious point of view. I don’t want to suggest removing the teaching of religion from our education system. Religion is deeply ingrained in the history of our species, something which students should be taught about. However, I propose that it is time to stop allowing religion to hitch-hike with facts that it contradicts. It makes no logical sense to counter argue something with evidence with an alternative with no evidence. Our education system needs to accept that evolution is fact and ensure that religious education here in the UK doesn’t interfere with its teachings.

A lack of evolutionary knowledge is not a fault of the individual in our society, but the fault of our education system. We are all undoubtedly ignorant to phenomena. It is guaranteed that our lists of ignorance would be longer if it weren’t for the principles which were introduced to us at school. Evolution must be one of these principles. Just as our first experience of learning about the solar system allowed us to answer the questions of where we are in the universe, let us make the why we are here more accessible. Understanding evolution is the path towards this goal.