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Five of the best pubs and bars in Oxford

Ethan Croft
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Five of the best pubs and bars in Oxford

From Cherwell‘s guide to Oxford freshers’ week 2017, Keep Off the Grass.

The Kings Arms

The King Arms claims the title of Oxford’s most famous pub. Like many a metropolitan watering hole, ‘the K.A.’ (as it is affectionately known by some) succumbed long ago to the clutches of the gastropub chain Youngs. Yet it still does a pretty good job of masquerading as an independent ale house, with dark wood panelling, rich leather sofas, and pictures of the Queen Mother pouring a pint. The pork pies are good, and the scotch eggs better. But don’t expect a great deal more in the way of food if you’re arriving late at night.

Drinks will seem relatively more expensive depending how far north of London you come from, but moaning about the price of a pint can sometimes be an effective conversation starter in first term. And don’t worry too much about your overdraft; the high cost of a night at the KA is only remunerated with their Sunday night entertainment. To be more specific, the Conservative Association’s Port and Policy after-party. Sit back and relax as the suited and booted MPs of the future get pissed on half a cider, and fall into a coughing fit after bumming their first cigarette from a proletarian.

The Turf Tavern

The Turf Tavern. Flickr.

While the King’s Arms sits proudly on the corner of Holywell Street, Oxford’s second biggest central pub, Turf Tavern, is a tad harder to find. Hidden away behind Hertford College, with a secret entrance under the Bridge of Sighs, the Turf claims to be the city’s oldest pub. Though the Kings Arms’ famous visitors are displayed on its walls in 35mm glory, the Turf uses the slightly dubious method of writing about celebrities and their exploits on chalkboards around the pub. With quite a bit of “allegedly” and “apparently” thrown in, it claims to be the place where Bill Clinton “did not inhale” cannabis.

The tavern’s rather pokey interior is made up for with its charming outdoor veranda, which importantly includes overhead heating in the winter. Don’t expect to stay long though—Turf closes at a measly 11pm.

The Half Moon

If you’re a pubber not a clubber, life can be difficult. While your happy go-lucky (and often lightweight) friends brave the cold of the Bridge queue and dance into the early morning, you might find yourself being kicked out of the pub before you’re ready to call it a night.

But despair not. Make your way over Magdalen Bridge to the magical Half Moon (its main mystical quality being that it stays open until 2am). It will take you back in time, in a good way. There’s a jukebox for punters, and don’t bother flashing your AmEx at the bar staff. They only take cold hard cash for their bizarrely named craft ales. Though you might not be able to smoke inside, the doorway in which you’ll puff away is so narrow you won’t be able to tell the difference.

Chequers, High Street Oxford. Photo: Ben Sutherland/Flickr.

The Chequers

Oh, High Street. The place where everything seems to be both a little bit more expensive and a little bit shitter. Chequers is another early closing pub, which is only accentuated by the fact it will take you an age to locate the alley it’s hidden in. This is a pub with few student regulars, but at least while in there you and your friends can play a game of ‘spot the college crest’. Beware though: the renditions vary in quality.

 

Four Candles

Otherwise known as Wetherspoons, or ‘Spoons’ for short. £2.40 lager? Yes please. Nobody knows how they do it, but this nationwide gastropub franchise manages to provide cheap ale for all, and Oxford is no exception. In The Four Candles, a delicately preserved townhouse, you can touch base with townies, eat a lukewarm £5 burger, and drink G&Ts on the cheap. But good luck finding a seat in here at the weekend.

Photo: Matt Brown/Flickr.

This piece is from Cherwell‘s guide to Oxford Freshers’ Week 2017, Keep Off the Grass. Pick up your copy from your freshers rep or pidge room at the start of term.

Max and Ivan at the Fringe review: ‘Laugh-out-loud hilarious from start to finish’

Izzy Smith
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Max and Ivan at the Fringe review: ‘Laugh-out-loud hilarious from start to finish’

Max and Ivan’s Edinburgh Fringe show is laugh-out-loud hilarious from start to finish. The pair have fantastic chemistry, skilfully embodying a whole cast of wonderful larger than life characters, from obnoxious Swedish boyfriend peddling (literally) fishy alcohol, to the protagonist’s jaded best friend. These at times clunky transitions between characters are used to excellent comic effect, such as when an actor’s movement continues on from one character to the next. During a proposal scene, where both partners are played by the same actor, the boyfriend asks his girlfriend to stop talking, as she’s making things difficult to stage.

The show follows Brian, a sweet but challenged character who is allergic to pretty much everything, as he navigates a school reunion, also dipping into the stories of others at the event. These stories combine and intertwine hilariously, and often disastrously.

I found particularly tickling the way in which the same anecdotes were repeated from different people’s perspectives. Brian, hoping to infuse a gig with excitement, once set free a lion at a house party, and other characters reminisce about how when they lost their virginity together a lion bounded through the bedroom. One character declares that ‘playing the French horn is like making love to a beautiful woman – it’s much more fun if you have a butt plug in,’ and another character later mentions, disturbed, that this boy is teaching her the French horn.

My favourite scene depicts the meeting of a Geography teacher and past mature student, who had previously had an affair. The pair’s flirtation through Geography facts and innuendo is rib-achingly funny, the scene charged with utterly ridiculous sexual tension.

This ability to create scenes and characters imbued with just the right degree of silliness is perhaps Max and Ivan’s greatest strength. Another fantastic example of this is a fight that takes place in the school’s music room, during which the opponents combine musically punning insults with physical blows by the corresponding instruments.

A recurring joke which I personally found more distressing than funny involved a past student whom nobody remembered. While this premise could have worked well, the joke is taken in uncharacteristically dark directions, with the threat of suicide building, and finally only just being avoided. The stories of the people who had forgotten him are also rather harrowing at times: one bully had forced him to jump off the science block several times, and his legs were still badly damaged to this day.

On the whole, though, the show was extremely funny and entertaining, with no moment wasted.

‘It’ review – the most purely entertaining horror movie of the year

Jonnie Barrow
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‘It’ review – the most purely entertaining horror movie of the year

“Have you seen ‘It’ yet?” “Seen what?” “Y’know, ‘It’?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” This has been the most common conversation I’ve had with friends in the last week, itching to talk about a movie with an irritatingly ubiquitous title. More frustrating than its title, though, is the fact that I’ve had no-one to talk about it with. Because while we’ve already seen future classics of the horror genre ‘Get Out’ and ‘It Comes At Night’ this year, IT may be the most purely entertaining horror movie so far.

‘It’ takes place in Derry, Maine in the summer of 1989, and follows seven outcast kids, self-titled ‘The Losers’ Club’, who begin to see visions of a terrifying clown preying on their worst fears. They soon make a connection between their visions and the extreme number of disappearances in Derry, and set out to stop Pennywise the Clown/It and halt his reign of tyranny over their sleepy town.

In a year where ‘The Dark Tower’, one of the most abortive attempts to adapt one of Stephen King’s works has graced the screen, the success of IT should not be understated, and its successes mostly stem from two really smart creative choices: a script that retains the best parts of its long development process, and applying the lessons learnt by the other great Stephen King adapted film starring children, Stand By Me.

Lets start with the script, which initially was significantly shaped by Cary Fukunaga, one of the creative geniuses behind the first season of True Detective. The script bears many traits of his handiwork, sharing the show’s deep sense of place and strong, rounded characters which lend a resonant tangibility to even the broadest story strokes. While these elements have been retained, director Andy Muschietti (whose only other film is 2013’s hauntingly beautiful and extremely underrated horror hit Mama) has clearly spruced it up with some great comedic touches and often imaginative jump scares.

The other intelligent aspect of the script is that, instead of adapting the whole 1000+ page novel in one go, the filmmakers have decided to adapt only the childhood-set portions, resulting in a tight, self-contained story that sets itself up perfectly for a sequel covering the adulthood era of the novel.

As a first chapter, then, what lessons does this film have to learn from the resolutely standalone classic Stand By Me? That casting the right kids, and giving them the right dialogue, is everything – and the casting of IT is spot on.

The Losers are led by Bill, played superbly by Jaeden Lieberher, who has the most personal connection to Pennywise after his little brother is gruesomely caught by the dancing clown in the film’s stellar pre-titles sequence. Sophia Lillis plays Bev, the only girl in the group, with an enchanting mixture of vulnerability and stoicism, and she plays off Jeremy Ray Taylor’s Ben beautifully. Finn Wolfhard, of ‘Stranger Things’ fame, is absolutely hilarious in the comic relief role of the group.

Wolfhard is not the only element seemingly borrowed from Stranger Things – both share a commitment to evoking not just the era of the 1980s itself, through its stellar production design, but the films of the period too, through the charmingly Amblin-esque score and a combination of homage-y and inventive camerawork.

Though the film suffers a little in the scares department due to a slight over-reliance on jump scares and loud noises, Bill Skarsgård’s turn as Pennywise is terrifying enough to compensate. Muschietti rightfully lets his deliciously evil performance reign supreme within the often-hectic scary scenes, keeping his supernatural origins vague while keeping his threat to the children horrifyingly present. Seriously, this film does not skimp on its “children getting brutally maimed” quota.

Despite the scares and the laughs, the true pleasures of IT lie in its assured direction and wonderfully committed cast. Though not all of the central characters are as fleshed out as they could be, and the pacing occasionally stumbles under the weight of juggling seven main characters, Pennywise and The Losers more than earn their right to their inevitable sequel. I say, bring IT on.

Oxford refuses to reconsider Aung San Suu Kyi honorary degree

Jack Hunter
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Oxford refuses to reconsider Aung San Suu Kyi honorary degree

Oxford University has called on Aung San Suu Kyi to “eliminate discrimination and oppression”, in light of the expanding humanitarian crisis in Myanmar, but has said it is not reconsidering her honorary degree.

A number of UK universities and institutions have withdrawn or suspended honours given to Myanmars’s de facto leader, after the displacement of around 400,000 of the country’s Rohingya Muslim minority, which the UN has described as a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing”.

In a statement to Cherwell, Oxford said Aung San Suu Kyi’s honorary degree, awarded in 2012, is not currently under discussion, but expressed the university’s “profound concern” about the treatment of the Rohingya community.

“Since the country established its first democratically elected government for more than 50 years, in 2015, Oxford has expanded a wide-ranging programme of assistance to  universities in Myanmar, in particular the University of Yangon,” the statement said.

“The institution’s goal is to support peaceful and inclusive democracy, strengthened rule of law, and the provision of greater economic opportunities through higher education.”

It called on Aung San Suu Kyi, who graduated from St Hugh’s College in 1967, to act on the growing crisis. “The University remains committed to these ideals, and hopes the Myanmar administration, led by Oxford alumna Aung San Suu Kyi, can eliminate discrimination and oppression, and demonstrate to the world that Myanmar values the lives of all its citizens.”

The statement stopped short, however, of reviewing the honorary degree bestowed on Aung San Suu Kyi in 2012, one of the University’s highest honours, awarded to only a handful of international figures each year.

In recent days, a number of institutions have suspended or reviewed awards given to Myanmar’s leader. Yesterday, Oxford councillors announced they could reconsider the freedom of the city of Oxford awarded to Aung San Suu Kyi in 1997.

“If nothing changes, I think it is very likely that the city council will be stripping her of the freedom of the city,” councillor John Tanner told the Oxford Mail.

“It’s something that we very much regret but clearly the reasons for giving her support have now changed.”

Bristol University, one of several UK universities to have awarded Aung San Suu Kyi an honorary degree, said it was reviewing its award.

LSE’s student union said it would be stripping the former political prisoner of her honorary presidency.

“We will be actively removing Aung San Suu Kyi’s honorary presidency as a symbol of our opposition to her current position and inaction in the face of genocide,” said Mahatir Pasha, the union’s general secretary.

Among her critics has been fellow Nobel Peace Prize winner and incoming Lady Margaret Hall student Malala Yousafzai. She wrote on Twitter that “the world is waiting” for Aung San Suu Kyi to condemn the suffering of the Rohingya community.

Aung San Suu Kyi studied PPE at St Hugh’s College, gaining a BA in 1967 before studying for an MA in Politics.

In a televised address yesterday, Aung San Suu Kyi said: “There have been allegations and counter-allegations. We have to listen to all of them.

“We have to make sure those allegations are based on solid evidence before we take action.”

Richardson’s indefensible pay is a product of the marketisation of education

Daniel Villar
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Richardson’s indefensible pay is a product of the marketisation of education

Louise Richardson has recently come under fire for a comment perceived by many to be defending homophobia. However, the real scandal of what she said was not that students should not complain about homophobic professors, but her defence of her own £350,000 salary, and similarly high salaries of vice chancellors across the UK.

Over the last thirty years, the number of academic positions relative to PhDs, and the remuneration of those who get those positions, has declined. A generation or two ago the standard practice for a newly minted PhD was an academic career path, almost certainly culminating in a full professorship. Today, less than a tenth of newly minted PhDs are likely to become full professors, and even formerly safe branches such as mathematics and biology have a conversion rate of less than half.

At the same time academic salaries have stagnated, even as the price of living has increased – at our own university, the highest a full professor can be paid is £67,827, with a yearly increase below inflation. This salary in real terms is much less than what Oxford professors were paid thirty years ago, with the city much more expensive than it was in the past.

Yet one branch of the academic world has seen a rapid increase in both salaries and positions: administration. Not so long ago, heads of departments, wardens, and even vice chancellors were not paid much more than the professors they oversaw. Indeed, it used to be the norm in the whole Anglophone world for university presidents and vice chancellors to be elected for a fixed term from amongst the current academic staff, and to be paid one and a half times, or at most double, the salaried professor. The administrative staff was small, and most people employed by a university would be either teaching or doing research. Today, however, there is an entire class of people in universities who contribute little to research and teaching, but instead administer, adding needless cost for not much value.

Richardson defended her salary as vice chancellor on the grounds that, compared to some US university presidents, she was modestly paid. That is true: her salary may be over five times more than an Oxford professor could ever hope to earn without entering administration, but it is paltry compared to salaries for university administrators in the US.

Richardson’s £350,000 pales in comparison to the £570,000 earnt by Drew Faust of Harvard or the £3 million earnt by Mark Wrighton of the University of Washington, St Louis. In a global market for vice chancellors, Richardson probably could earn more in the United States.

If emulating America is the goal, then vice chancellor pay in Britain shows we’re well on the way. If, however, we seek to resist the rampant marketisation which characterises the United States, higher education must stand at the front line.

Academia is a land of contradictions. At one end is the vast army of underpaid academics, many of whom have to work on short term contracts with no job security, or slave away as post-docs. On the other end are the university chief executives—an almost parasitic group that no longer research and simply live off their past careers.

Richardson’s comments on homophobia, deplorable as they are, will have no impact: the tide is already well in favour of equal rights. Her defense of gross levels of executive pay for vice chancellors, however, can have lasting ramifications. The trend towards marketisation of the British higher education system is already starting to damage our universities, and Richardson’s comments will only help accelerate this trend.

By all means be angry about Richardson’s comments on homophobia – but remember that the real controversy is her defence of a burgeoning academic system whose influence would hurt everyone save a self-serving class of academic administrators of which Richardson is a part.

How to survive Oxford freshers’ week

Eimer McAuley
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How to survive Oxford freshers’ week

From Keep Off the Grass.

So, after months of anticipation, freshers’ week has finally come around. Some of you will arrive loaded with paracetamol, fully prepared for a week that sees you bouncing from being absolutely hammered to hanging on a daily basis. Others may be daunted at the prospect of mass socialising and leaving home behind. No matter your expectations, aims, or anxieties about this week, this a fool-proof guide that will see you intact and fully functioning come 1st week.

First up, don’t get stressed about work

From the word go, this is where the Oxford experience begins to diverge from your average fresher’s week. Your tutors will call you to a meeting in the first few days and set you an essay due in a week. They will encourage you to hit the books from the off, cordon yourself in a section in the library, and come to terms with your new existence as a living essay machine. Whilst it’s a bad idea to leave that essay until the night before, there’s plenty of time for work during the year. This week is about having a blast of hedonism before that begins, so remember to relax and live a little.

Know your limits

Now that you’ve accepted that you’re going to have fun, it’s important to acknowledge the limitations of what your body is physically capable of—there’s a big night out and then there’s puking into a plant pot in the Bridge smoking area and performing a weepy public monologue to Kevin from the floor above you about how you just missed out on an A* in History. Kevin, who is of course your new soulmate, because somewhere between the last jaeger and tripping down the stairs you realised that you just really like get each other. Drinkers, don’t go overboard! Take refuge in a stodgy Hassan’s to keep the killer hangover at bay, and take at least one night off for the sake of your liver.

Get to know Oxford

When you’re not spending your time drinking, you should probably get to know Oxford. Take a walk, see the sights, go on the Harry Potter tour if that’s your kind of gig. You’ll thank yourself for doing a little sight-seeing when, in 1st week, you have a lecture in a college whose name you aren’t sure how to pronounce, followed by a class in the faculty building you haven’t yet located. Oxford is beautiful and ancient, so soak some of the scenery up before you begin a very busy year.

Freshers’ Fair: the baptism of fire

Freshers’ Fair is a baptism of fire into the societies and clubs the Uni has to offer. Navigate your way around the impressively maze-like trail of stalls and sign up for whatever catches your eye. Whether you’re interested in singing, comedy, politics, or pastries, there will be something there for you. The students behind the desks will be grappling for your attention and the atmosphere is somewhat like a noisy market, but it’s a great way to see what’s available. Oh, and there’s free pizza.

Budgeting

In the sheer hedonism of it all, you might find that—five days in—you’ve spent way more money than you meant to, and you’re already behind budget. Fresher’s week is a good time to learn how to economise. Eat in hall, buy a kettle and a clothes horse, and most essentially, discover boxed wine. This brings me to another key tip, remember to call your parents. Those people who dropped you off with teary eyes? It’s really awkward when your first call is due to the fact that you’ve ran out of money, trust me

It’s only the first week

Lastly, don’t worry if you don’t feel like you’ve found your best friends for life in the first few days. Freshers’ Week is really a time for first impressions and bonding experiences, but you’ll end up having great friends who you didn’t even meet in freshers’ week. Go to some of the meet and greet events organised by your freshers’ committee if you’re nervous about introductions, and remember that you’ve got a year to get to know people. This week is only the beginning of your experience here, it won’t define it. You’re in for three amazing years that will be as unpredictable as they will be rewarding, and no one could pack that into one week.

This piece is from Cherwell‘s guide to Oxford Freshers’ Week 2017, Keep Off the Grass. Pick up your copy from your freshers rep or pidge room at the start of term.

“Once again, I find myself applauding the Oxford Revue”

Saskia Thomas
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“Once again, I find myself applauding the Oxford Revue”

Having previously seen the wealth of talent in the Oxford Revue before arriving at Subway on Cowgate, I was excited to see what new material the trio would bring to the stage. I was not disappointed and neither were the rest of the audience, who seemed to lap up the majority of the jokes and characters effortlessly and seamlessly portrayed by the group. The opening verged on awkwardly cheesy, as one of the characters attempted to motivate the crowd with clapping, but the show soon gained momentum and the jokes finesse. What began as seemingly a series of stand-alone skits progressed as the story lines intertwined, and the blurb I had read before entering the theatre became apparent. It follows a journey to Australia made by an American, Scotsman and an Englishwoman in order to hunt down a fascist Youtuber with a number one single, which twists and turns with some hilariously random and seemingly unrelated scenes.

Kathy Maniura plays the rather less child-friendly JK Rowling, teaching kids that a cigarette and bottle of wine are the perfect complement to worldwide fame and fortune. And while I adore a wildly inappropriate Harry Potter joke with a beautifully subtle satirical twist, the American, played by Derek Mitchell, really stole the show. Dawn McIntosh, your stereotypical Christian mum, with her snickerdoodles and crossbow, had an intoxicating enthusiasm when played by Mitchell. Not only did he work the space and the character, he owned them. He plays the mum you’d never want to have while deep down you never want him to leave the stage. While the Scotsman (aka. Mary Macrel), played by Alistair Inglis, may have had some of the weakest material of the show, his characterisation, wonderful accent, and the fact he spends most of the show in an ill-fitting vomit-green ladies suit made him entertaining still. Inglis plays your hyperbolised politician, competing with JK Rowling for most influential woman. Kathy Maniura must also be commended for her musical abilities as well, as Ariel and JK she sings and plays guitar with skill and style. Not only are her musical moments funny and endearing, but a pleasure to listen to.

The humour itself is found in both the absurdity of this show and in the cracking one-liners all three of the trio perform; the humour hits more than it misses with some wonderfully creative forms of satire and ridiculousness. Credit must be given to Laura de Lisle for her wonderful technical work, the use of media to supplement the humour and give time for the trio to change wigs and costume, kept the pace of the show and the audience occupied. Furthermore, the sheer number of cues she had to execute was unbelievably impressive for one person.

This show is heart warming and had me tearing up with laughter, a show truly performed with flair by some incredible talent. Again, I find myself applauding the Oxford Revue.

A Thinly Veiled Story of A Damsel in Distress

Francesca Salisbury
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A Thinly Veiled Story of A Damsel in Distress

CN: Eating disorders

Starring Lily Collins, To The Bone is hard-hitting story of a 20-year-old girl’s struggle with anorexia. From an unconventional family and having received treatment for years, protagonist Ellen is persuaded by her desperate step-mother to enter a group recovery home, under the guidance of the supposedly ‘revolutionary’ Dr Beckham. Thrown together with a group of girls (and one boy named Luke) each of whom suffer from an eating disorder, Ellen is forced to confront her issue head-on.

Despite being based on the director Marti Noxon’s own experiences, To The Bone has come under fire for ‘glamorising’ anorexia, supposedly portraying the illness as desirable. However, after watching frankly harrowing scenes, episodes from Dr Beckham examining the yellow bruises on Ellen’s spine as a result of frantic calorie-burning sit-ups to a fellow in-patient’s tragic and purging-induced miscarriage, I can say that anorexia is portrayed as far from glamorous.

Instead, what left me outraged was this: Ellen’s journey to recovery is catalysed by two key figures, and both are men. Although Ellen doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with Dr Beckham, his advice (which boils down to “Life’s not perfect, get over it”) eventually gets through to her. An affable character, his role is essentially paternal, perhaps replacing Ellen’s notably absent father. While female doctors are the ones who actually cook for the inpatients and monitor their health on a daily basis, Dr Beckham only appears at random intervals to impart supposedly ‘gritty’, ‘real-life’ advice, yet is presented as a miracle-working saviour.

The second male character that catalyses Ellen’s journey is Luke, fellow anorexic inpatient who lives just down the hall. With his British wit and eccentricity, Luke acts as the stereotypical Indie film hero. Quirky in appearance and character, his cheerful spirit and humour quickly charm the more serious, broody-yet-beautiful Ellen in a cliché, The Fault in Our Stars-esque manner. Despite the five other girls surrounding Ellen, it is Luke who takes her out for a meal, it is Luke who manages to get her to eat a chocolate bar, and it is Luke who appears to her in a dream and tells her that “Your courage was a small coal that you kept swallowing”. Ultimately, it is Luke (or at least a vision of Luke) that persuades Ellen to give recovery another chance when she was at the point of accepting death.

When I was explaining why this bothered me to a friend, she said, “Well, I think you’re coming at it from a very feminist perspective.” Yes, I am coming from a feminist perspective. Because in today’s social and political climate, where patriarchy is so entrenched and accepted in everyday life, we need to tackle it head on. I am surprised and disappointed that a film involving so many powerful women essentially followed a clichéd, outdated and frankly sexist storyline of a knight in shining armour rescuing his damsel in distress. I am not denying the importance and necessity of highlighting eating disorders as a problem, and in fact I applaud the film for doing so, but to embed within such a sensitive topic yet another boy-transforms-girl’s-life plot is irresponsible and saddening.

To The Bone is amazing in some respects: it is beautifully directed and produced, and it highlights some genuinely harrowing issues that need to be brought to more urgent attention and enter the public’s consciousness more fully. So while the film takes great leaps forward in creating a dialogue around eating disorders and particularly anorexia, it unfortunately feels like a step backwards when it comes to dismantling gender stereotypes and patriarchal narratives. For once, could the damsel save herself from distress?

The future of AI is closer than we think

Walter Goodwin
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The future of AI is closer than we think

Difficult ethical questions have been raised this month after artificial intelligence (AI) was shown to be 91% accurate at guessing whether somebody was gay or straight from a photograph of their face. If a madman with a nuclear weapon is a 20th century apocalypse plot, climate change and AI are the two blockbuster contenders of the 21st. Both play to the tantalisingly ancient theme of humanity’s hubristic desire to be greater, bringing about their own downfall in the process. Barring recent political setbacks, the risks of climate change are no longer controversial. AI, on the other hand, seems to still be.

In Oxford, an ancient city of spires and philosophers, seemingly standing out against technological advance, there is the Future of Humanity Institute. The institute is headed by Nick Bostrom, a philosopher who believes that the advent of artificial intelligence could well bring about the destruction of civilisation. Meanwhile, in the New World, the top ‘schools’ are turning overwhelmingly to the study and development of artificial intelligence. At Stanford University, about 90% of undergraduates now take a computer science course. In Silicon Valley, the religion is one of self-improvement. Optimization (with a ‘z’) is their religion. With a strong culture of obsessing over their own ‘productivity’, it’s little wonder that the promises of AI, the ultimate optimiser, have such a powerful draw on so many brilliant brains on the West Coast.

Back home, Bostrom is a leading source of warnings against AI. His papers have titles like “Existential Risks: Analyzing Human Extinction Scenarios and Related Hazards”. It’s clear that he is a man not shy of staring back at the abyss, though I’m not entirely sure what ‘Related Hazards’ we need to be concerned about post-Human Extinction. He’s said that our work on artificial intelligence is “like children playing with a bomb”.

Bostrom extrapolates from the way that humans have dominated the world to highlight the risks of AI. Our brains have capabilities beyond that of the other animals on this planet, and that advantage alone has been distinctive in making us so overwhelmingly the dominant species, and in a relatively tiny amount of time. The dawn of civilisation could be described as a biological singularity, an intelligence explosion. If an artificial brain could be made more powerful than our own, why should we not see a second ‘intelligence explosion’? This brings up the technological singularity – a paradigm in which humans might come to have as little power over our lives as battery farmed chickens do now over theirs. The difference, I suppose, is that chickens didn’t inadvertently create humanity, so Bostrom sees a chance for us to control our creation – we choose how and when to turn it on.

However, AI need not be inherently malignant in order to destroy us. By illustration, one of Bostrom’s fun apocalypse scenarios (another of his light reads is Global Catastrophic Risks) is that of the end of the world by a runaway artificial intelligence algorithm initially designed to help a paperclip factory manufacture as many paperclips as possible. Within seconds, the machine has quite logically reasoned that this would be best achieved by wiping out the human race in order to make a bit more space for paperclip manufacturing, and cheerfully, obediently embarked on its task.

My engineering degree at Oxford is definitely a bit backward. Most of the course seems not to have changed since Alan Turing cracked the Enigma Machine at Bletchley Park. My decision to focus my final year on AI thus makes me – I would like to think – a dangerous maverick. Probably, the professors discuss me in hushed tones, fear mixed equally with reverence. I’m actually extremely grateful for this environment.

Away from the fervent centre of the Religion of Optimisation, it’s far easier to see the bigger picture, without being blinded by the light of enthusiasm. The Laboratory of Applied Artificial Intelligence which I just became part of sits within the Oxford Robotics Institute. The important nuance in this hierarchy is that at Oxford, artificial intelligence is more a prosaic tool to be applied to an end, than a quasi-religious holy grail in itself. Say, making better driverless cars. It is only in very specific, tailored ways like this that artificial intelligence is, and can be, currently used. This concrete embodiment of AI is called Machine Learning, and is nothing more glamorous than particularly clever statistics, run by relatively powerful computers.

It is these mundane algorithms that optimise all online ads to their audience, determine your sexuality from a photo, get your Über driver to you within 2 minutes, or even replace that Über driver altogether. Long before Bostrom’s artificial superintelligence surpasses the human brain and crushes us like ants, civilisation will be tested by the extreme turbulence in lifestyle and employment that will be brought by this far more mundane embodiment of computer intelligence. Besides a bit of philosophy and working out how to unplug a monster brain, we should be considering a far closer future, in which boring machines that can’t even hold a conversation will have nonetheless put most of us out of work.

Revues reviewed: the best (and worst) student comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe

Benn Sheridan
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Revues reviewed: the best (and worst) student comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe

Oxford Revue: ‘Triptych’ (★★★★)

The week before I arrived at the Fringe, my mother, passing through Edinburgh on the way to her sister’s, managed to catch a few shows. One of these was ‘Triptych’, the latest offering from the Oxford Revue. She sent me a quick Whatsapp afterwards: “Oxford Revue shocking I walked out. Xxx”. Naturally, I had to see it. The room was packed with middle aged, cardigan wearing women rather like dear mum – clearly word hadn’t got round. After a cursory introduction, the first sketch: I won’t ruin it, but from then on, for me the show was worth every penny – if only to see the look of shock on anyone expecting feel-good, easy going comedy. With monologues exploring the darker sides of laddishness, this ‘anti-sketch show’ made for an entertaining, albeit uncomfortable hour. Just don’t go with your mum.

‘Studio 9’ (★★★★★)

This two man show from Cambridge Footlights regulars Will Hall and Leo Reich must rank amongst the best sketch comedy offerings this year. It’s a shame that the premise of the show – a pilot recording of their sketch show (in the most cramped venue – sorry, ‘studio’ – available to them) – is just a fiction: superbly crafted and impeccably executed, the show weaves together excellent stand alone sketches whilst satirising the inanities of ‘showbiz’, sketch shows…and themselves.

Edinburgh Revue (★)

Edinburgh University alumni include some of the greatest writers and thinkers ever to have lived: from Conan Doyle to Darwin, pretty much every field is represented. The exception is probably comedy, and on this showing it’s not hard to see why. Having trekked 20 minutes to get to a pub in what felt like the furthermost reaches of Perthshire, we joined the audience of six to witness an extraordinary spectacle: I can now say with full confidence that there is no greater agony than unfunny comedy. If I were being kind, I’d say the cast were undermined by their tendency to corpse at crucial moments, but that would wrongly suggest that these sketches had some kind of vitality about them. Following mum’s example, I walked out.

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