Sunday, April 27, 2025
Blog Page 950

Clothes with a conscience

0

When faced with the scale of injustice and corruption in the fashion industry, why try? Why would a group of students sit in the middle of Queen Street on a standard Saturday morning, attempting to sew new clothes from second hand fabrics? Because each time we make a purchase, we can choose either to support slavery, or to take a stand and say that human lives matter more than cheap clothes.  Last Saturday, October 22nd, Just Love (a Christian student justice organisation) hosted a Sew-In, where students met for a few hours and made all sorts of garments – tops, slippers, a bag, a dress, shorts. We modelled these in a street photography style to comment on the way in which the fashion industry glamorises garments which may be beautiful, but may still have a very ugly story behind their creation.

In our globalised society, we rarely think about the people that make our clothes and other textiles. The supply chain is concealed and we only see the finished product.

Arjun, a child weaver in India, explains about the conditions in which he was enslaved, forced to work for no money: “Most days we were only given one break for eating and one break for toilet. If we tried to sleep, they would beat us. Sometimes they gave us pills so we can work all night. I felt so tired I cut myself often. If the blood from my fingers came on the carpet, they would take green chili and rub it on my wound for punishment.”

There are more than 45 million people in slavery in the world today, and many more working in conditions that are too terrible for us to imagine. Every time we buy something carelessly, we essentially say that their lives do not matter to us. Living ethically is important for many reasons, including person ones, but our choices also have the collective power to catalyse structural, long-term change. A senior executive from a big high street clothing company told the Guardian that shoppers ‘don’t care’ about conditions, and research that both reflects and dictates the current market shows most ‘prefer inexpensive items over respect for human rights’. For companies to change the way in which they work, we need to show that, as shoppers, we do care about human rights. Over the last few years significant steps have been taken, both by campaigners and companies, to expose exploitation and to improve working conditions throughout the supply chain, but there is still so much to be done. We need to join together, raising awareness, empowering and informing people and ultimately transforming the horrendous injustice that many of us unthinkingly propagate.

Our sew-in was in no way an attempt to imitate the horrific conditions that workers face. It would be insensitive short-sighted and patronising to draw comparisons. Rather, by sewing clothes in a public space, we wanted to remind shoppers of the hidden people behind the clothes that hang on rails.

We want to stand together in peaceful but uncompromising protest to say that we do see through the poor ethics of much of the fashion industry and, furthermore, the glamorisation of these clothes through publicity and the media, which come at an unacceptable cost to so many individual lives and communities. We want to bring people together in this stand against injustice and hold each other accountable for the many times that we fail and put our convenience above the lives of others. We want to change our habits, motives and expectations in the way that we live and shop, and challenge you to join us as we pursue equality, dignity and true beauty for our global neighbour.

Folk, it is a-changin’

0

When the Nobel Committee awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature to Bob Dylan, they justified Dylan’s eligibility due to his “creating new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition”. But what exactly is the great American song tradition? In Dylan’s case, its rather clear—folk music. But that only raises another question—what is folk music?

At first, it seems like the answer to that question is self explanatory—folk is what common folk sing and pass on from generation to generation, without any composer. Yet obviously that isn’t what Dylan or other great folk singers do—they may each do a cover of ‘Bread and Roses’ or ‘We Shall Not be Moved’, but Dylan’s real contribution is due to work he did himself, such as ‘Tambourine Man’ or ‘Like a Rolling Stone’. Instead, the folk Dylan is a part of is a product of the great mid twentieth century revival of folk music in the United States.

In the beginning of the 20th century it looked as if folk music would die away in the United States. Jazz and Ragtime music were crowding out the market for traditional American folk music, and most musicians seemed to be convinced that folk music would go by the wayside by the end of the century.

That Americans didn’t appreciate their own culture worried one particular Polish Jewish immigrant, Moses Asch. Asch was the son of the great writer Sholem Asch, and had come to America in 1915. In the 1930s, after recording a plea for German Jewry by Dr. Einstein, Asch had a conversation with Einstein. The great physicist told him that it was up to Asch, a Polish Jew, to let Americans appreciate their own musical culture.

Asch took this to heart, and began a career that would end up reviving folk music not just in America, but would end up being instrumental in saving folk music globally. Working with musicologists and anthropologists, Asch sought out traditional folk singers and recorded them. It was Asch who brought into the American musical mainstream musicians such as the Oklahoman Woody Guthrie and the Louisianan Lead Belly.

But Asch didn’t just record folk singers that already existed; he also influenced a new generation of folk singers. The most important of these in Bob Dylan’s tale is the son of a Harvard educated musicologist Charles Seeger, Pete Seeger.

Pete Seeger came from a traditional WASP family which could trace its family back to the revolution, and which had for generations gone to Harvard. But influenced by his father’s work and by Moses Asch, Pete Seeger entered the world of traditional folk singers. With the Almanac Singers, he recorded songs from the unionization struggles of the turn of the century, and became a singer of protest. A kindly man, Pete Seeger became the grand don of generations of folk singers, including the likes of Joan Baez, Phil Ochs, and Bob Dylan.

Dylan himself was born Robert Zimmerman, in Duluth Minnesota. In 1960 he moved to the center of the American folk scene—New York City. There he met the giants—there was a young Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, an aging Woody Guthrie, a ravishing Joan Baez, and of course, Pete Seeger. Within the decade Dylan would have expanded his range from just folk, but the early influence of these folk singers would stick with Dylan for the rest of his musical career, including his current work in his Never Ending Tour.

Dylan wasn’t just the most versatile folk singer of his generation—he is likely one of the most versatile folk singers ever. His generation of folk singers, the tail end of the great folk revival, have a good claim of being the greatest generation folk has ever known. He may have not excelled in any one area of folk—Phil Ochs, Utah Phillips, and Joan Baez were better at protest folk music, and John Denver was better at conveying genuine country songs (Take Me Home, Country Roads), and as he was equal to Willie Nelson. But Dylan was a preeminent figure in all of these genres of folk, ubiquitous in all areas of folk.

And he was influential. Before Dylan, for all the popularity of folk, it was for the most part still relegated to a slightly nostalgic section of the American public. Dylan was the man who broadened the appeal of folk with songs such as ‘Tambourine Man’, and who managed to make it mainstream. Without Dylan, there would have been no Kris Kristofferson, no John Prine or any of the multitude of folk genres that have spawned since Pete Seeger introduced Bob Dylan to the Newport Folk Festival in 1964.

Dylan created new expressions in the American song tradition—that is undeniable. There is a bridge from Moses Asch collecting traditional music from old men in Kentucky Valleys, and the modern powerful institution of folk music that makes millions of year. And Bob Dylan is that bridge. He was the future of the American folk tradition, but also a link back to its past.

Review: Michael Kiwanuka at the O2 Academy

0

For a musician signed to Communion, a label with definite folky origins, Michael Kiwanuka’s opening at Oxford’s O2 Academy is undeniably spacey. ‘Cold Little Heart’ begins with just the keys player onstage. The chords he plays are straightforward, but a close ear to delay and reverberations ensures these sounds bounce around the room in an oddly psychedelic manner.

When Kiwanuka leads the rest of the sixpiece band on, they seamlessly join in on this meandering instrumental, the opening to the eight minute–long track. The track soon steadies into a bluesy groove. It’s a startling opener on record, too, particularly since it follows an album made of tracks of just three or four minutes. 2012’s Home Again was a well-received debut of catchy, well thought-out melodies which established Kiwanuka as ‘one to watch’ on the North London scene. July’s Love and Hate reached number one, a serious sign of public recognition for the Muswell Hill-born artist who worked as a session guitarist before taking centre stage. The “critics” were impressed too—Love and Hate was shortlisted for the Mercury Prize this year, no small feat when set next to musicians including David Bowie, Radiohead and 2016’s winner, Skepta.

Live, the reworkings of album tracks, stretched-out and heavy on instrumentals, show Kiwanuka as a talented guitarist. On record his skilful playing is too often lost underneath swaying backing vocalists and thundering drums. In front of a live audience, stretching out across the strings of his guitar with a slide, Kiwanuka does not play as if at ease. He isn’t one to make his skirmishes up and down the guitar’s neck look heartless. Instead, he pulls faces, and wears a furrowed brow all evening. It’s rare to see a performer putting so much soul into every single note.

It is in his voice that his soulfulness is most apparent. While he may play with bluegrass guitar techniques, rock ‘n’ roll style riffs, and the emotional sentimentality of folk, the notes Kiwanuka strains out of his throat are of a raspy charm. Like the gruffness of the voice of label buddy Nathaniel Rateliff, the tone of these notes comes from somewhere inside Kiwanuka you can only imagine him finding whilst practising alone in a dark room.

His lyrics come from the same place. In ‘Rule the World’, he sings “I don’t understand the game/ Or who I’m meant to be/ It’s driving me insane/ The way you’re playing me”. On paper these sound twee, but as his voice lilts above heavy keys and guitar effects Jeff Buckley would be proud of, the texture suddenly thins, leaving these heart wrenching lyrics to waver, poignantly, alone in the air.

Imperatively his voice can be gentle, too. ‘The Final Frame’ is a smooth number in triple time which sees Kiwanuka rein in the huskiness of his voice, leaving a rare delicacy. ‘Tell Me a Tale’ was once Kiwanuka’s signature track, played steadily with the warmth with which it first appeared on the Tell Me a Tale EP in 2011. Now, with the accomplishment of his richer second album, he plays it as a freewheeling jazz number. The drummer plays with brushes and a second percussionist rustles around his kit and the side of the stage.

As a frontman, Kiwanuka is appreciative of his audience, but says little more than “thank you” between each song. Until, that is, he announces the last song of the night, to an array of sounds of disappointment from the crowd. “There’s a club night in here afterwards—they want us out”, Kiwanuka explains, one of the few things he can get out in breaths between his brooding song lyrics, “it’s Calvin Harris after us.”

Review: A Woman Killed with Kindness

0

Theatron Novum has transformed Thomas Heywood’s 17th century domestic drama A Woman Killed With Kindness into an intense, emotional character study. This works especially well in the Burton-Taylor Studio, where the audience almost sits amongst the actors in the intimate space, and props and set are kept to a minimum. The black box theatre facilitates total immersion, allowing stellar performances to take centre stage.

Director Eleanor Sax chooses to omit the sub-plot, and in doing so loses out on a thrilling story line involving a bet gone wrong, incarceration and a brother who pimps out his sister. This original narrative provides a valuable social exposition of the misogyny of Heywood’s society. By bypassing it, Sax’s production is less politically impactful and misses out some of the potential of the original script. However, what is lost in socio-political message is gained in emotional impact. By focusing on the hapless Frankford this production becomes an unflinching examination of lives falling apart.

The first half of the play captures Heywood’s rotten, bourgeois world of falsity and pretences. Marisa Crane’s set design effectively consolidates the themes, as it is revealed how Anne and Frankford’s love is as unsubstantial as the red satin wall hangings that are eventually stripped away. This rich colour evokes the “scarlet sins” that Frankford will go on to lament, and Anne’s matching gown marks her out as the nexus of this evil. As the play goes on, Anne swaps her elaborate dress for plain white nightwear and the props used to portray a middle class manor house are taken away. By removing the accruements of the period as the play becomes more emotionally affecting, director Eleanor Sax has found a perfect way to maintain a sense of the Elizabethan setting, whilst making sure that it does not become a distraction. The set design choices change our attitude in the second half of the play, ensuring that we focus less on the differences between this society and ours, and instead recognise and identify with timeless human pain.

Joe Stephenson plays Frankford as painfully earnest and innocent, utterly undeserving of his wife’s betrayal. Yet no one in this production is truly villainized—even Wendoll is sympathetically portrayed by Tobias Sims. His soliloquy, where he decides whether or not to pursue Anne, is one of the most powerful moments in the play; Sims captures a man wrought by lust, physically shaking with the force of his internal struggle, as he tries and fails to overcome his desire. His performance is nuanced enough to reveal how Anne is the victim; he becomes predatory, towering over her, so that when she finally acquiesces and kisses him, it seems she is submitting to external force rather than surrendering to her own lust. Victoria Gawlik’s performance is unexciting up until the point where her husband finds out about her betrayal. After this Gawlik comes into her own. She portrays Anne as if she is descending into mental illness, wringing her hands and pulling at her clothing to reveal how she literally cannot contain her pain. This effectively draws attention to the interpretation that sees Anne’s downfall as one of the first recorded cases of anorexia.

Special mention should also go to Christopher Page and Han Whitmore, who play the servants Nick and Jenkin with wit and aplomb, providing essential light relief. The dark subject matter calls for an outside perspective, which is skilfully provided by Page’s Nick. By having him perform the prologue, he is from the beginning associated with its wry, tongue-in-cheek commentary on the verisimilitude of the theatrical space. This perhaps contributes to the fact he comes across as the most level-headed character in the play, despairing at his naive master and poking fun at the obsequious Jenkin. Focalising events through his eyes is a masterstroke, and it ensures that the play remains grounded, despite taking its characters to the emotional brink.

Preview: The Nether

0

An Oxford Playhouse show is pretty much as serious as it gets in university drama. The size of the budgets, the complexity of the staging, the sheer volume of tickets to be shifted, competes admirably with the scale of a fair proportion of real life professional theatre. I was thus expecting, when I went into the rehearsal room on Monday, to find a stressed and amped up cast and crew, fairly disinterested in the inane questions of a low quality student journalist. What I found instead was one of the most passionate, enthusiastic, welcoming, and quite frankly talented groups of actors that I have ever had the pleasure of watching in rehearsal. It is worth noting that the play covers some concerning themes of a sexual nature, which I will be explicitly discussing in this preview.

The Nether, a 2013 Jennifer Haley Sci-Fi thriller, opens at the Playhouse in 4th week, and its fundamental premise is initially a little bit overwhelming.

It is set in a near future where the development of virtual reality has proceeded at such a speed that it becomes difficult to distinguish between the being in the ‘Nether’ (basically the internet) and being ‘in world’ (real life). Our narrative centres on the character of Sims, and his online persona of Papa (both portrayed by Rory Grant).

Sims has made the most realistic and sophisticated Nether server ever made, called the Hideaway, a gloriously rendered, lush slice of Victoriana which tastes, feels, looks and smells just like the real world. The small caveat to this sublimity is that it is a server primarily dedicated to simulated sexual relations with minors; when I say ‘simulated’, what I mean is in the virtual reality, with someone who has the online persona of a child, but is in fact a consenting adult in the real world. It is from the moral quandaries that underwrite this concept that the drama and violence of the play stem. ‘In world’, Sims and the users of the server are being investigated for their online actions, and we see a string of interrogation scenes where detectives and characters fight back and forth over whether what they choose to simulate online is or isn’t illegal, and more pressingly, whether it is moral.

Speaking to director Livi Dunlop about this production really made me realise how pertinent some of these questions are. As they reflected, we are the first generation to not really remember a time before the internet—virtual reality has arrived, and is in its infancy, but the leap from dial up connections and chat rooms to Oculus rift and an increasingly all encompassing social media, seems so vast a growth in our lifetime, that ‘The Nether’ seems frighteningly imminent. Also, many of people of our generation are utilising online space in different ways—forming identities, livelihoods and lives online, the line between ‘in world’ and ‘online’ is more blurred now than it has ever been before.

As I’m sure you can imagine, the rehearsal process for the Nether has been exhaustive— distinguishing between different characters, their online personas and their flesh and bone identities requiring extensive role swapping, and child’s play—notably a rehearsal spent by Madeleine Walker (the 11 year old Nether character ‘Iris’) building a pillow fort. In one particularly painful scene, the detective Morris (Shannon Hayes) painstakingly drags an unrepentant Doyle (Jonny Wiles), through his actions in the Nether, watching an increasingly frantic Wiles crash like waves against the steely calm of Hayes is quite frankly a sight to behold.

It’s pretty rare that I actually get genuinely excited about set design on a student production, however the plans to represent this physically impossible online space as a “Abstracted, Morris patterned, disintegrating Victorian house”, drawing on MC Escher and playing around with perspective quite frankly sounds incredible. I strongly recommend you head down to the Playhouse in 4th week, as it sounds like its going to be quite a show.

Review: Guys and Dolls

0

An eager fresher preparing for my first ever Cherwell review, I entered the Keble O’Reilly theatre not entirely sure what to expect. All I knew about the production was what I had heard from chorus member Dan Zurbrurgg—that the casting was only confirmed three weeks ago, that rehearsals had been intense, and that there are a lot of surprises. To an extent, Dan was right. ‘Surprised’ is certainly a word I would use to describe my reaction, but perhaps ‘mind blown’ would be more accurate.

The sheer detail in every aspect of production is what first impressed upon me. From the carefully designed set (a replica of the New York skyline made out of cards), which changes from a gambling den to a missionary Church centre within seconds, to the meticulously choreographed chorus scenes, the production flows seamlessly. The careful direction makes full use of the space provided by the O’Reilly Theatre, with cast members at times sitting among the audience on tables at the front, affecting a sense of intimacy that perfectly suits the size of the venue. Indeed, this sense of immaculacy extends to all aspects of the play, from the diverse casting—led by the immensely impressive Laurence Belcher and Emilie Finch—to the musical team, who execute delicate romantic pieces with the same ease as classic big-band show stoppers. The ensemble cast are also superb, and the overall impression is both professional and engaging—it is hard to believe the production is run by students as the standard is so incredibly high.

Perhaps most notable are some of the creative decisions taken that really give the production a certain joie-de-vivre. The decision to relocate the play to prohibition America (rather than the typical 1950s post-war setting) contributes to the unique sense we get that what we are seeing is something new, rather than a well-loved classic, and this sense is further enhanced by the personification of ‘luck’ as (incredibly talented) dancer Lena Schienwild,a creative decision that gives the show a stylised and artsy feel. Overall Issy Fidderman’s version of Guys and Dolls is exceptional in the way that it revives an old classic in refreshing and new manner, and after listening to the “oohs” and “wows” of the people sat around me, it seems clear that this opinion is universally shared by the audience.

Guys and Dolls really has something for everyone, whether you’re looking for an endearing love story, an outstanding musical score or just an evening of entertainment. The enthusiasm of the cast members is infectious and it is impossible not to leave the auditorium with a smile on your face. Overall, the cast, crew and musical team have all done a phenomenal job on Guys and Dolls, but tickets are selling out fast, with the final performance on Saturday, so my advice would be to act fast so as not to miss this gem of a musical.

Restaurant review: Moya, a taste of Slovakia

0

Moya: 97 St Clements Street, Oxford OX4 1AR (01865 200 111). Meal for two, including drinks and service: £40-£70

We arrived by chance—a cold wind and inadequate layering drove us into the invitingly lit Moya late in the evening, without a reservation. When the waitress informed us that the cuisine was Slovakian, we weren’t sure whether to be excited or anxious. Hearty, cabbagey and pig-centric was my pre-formed prejudice about Eastern European cuisine. But at Moya such stodgefests are only part of the story.

The décor, for one, is hardly traditional:whitewashed and with arty photographs of Oxford serried in rows along the walls, the space feels modern and sophisticated. Moya is rustic Slovakia with a metropolitan edge, showcased in the impressively large cocktail menu. Get there before the end of happy hour (8pm) and you can begin your meal with a Maker’s Mark Old Fashioned for £4.55. The food surpasses expectations: heavy flavours are treated with a light touch, the clever use of fruit and pickles giving a tangy edge to what would otherwise be unpalatably rich meat dishes. Our meal had the comforting quality of a Sunday roast, starchy and soporific, but with undercurrents of savoury sharpness.

After the obligatory cocktail to start, try the “devil’s toast”—sour bread toast topped with smoked sausage, vegetables and a shockingly delicious patty of grilled goat cheese. Follow up with a fiery Hungarian goulash, or the innocuous-sounding “pork-shank”, so enormous that it looks like a joint of meat from a cartoon. If you’re still going by desert and crave more things “stodgy but delicious”, have the apricot dumpling with poppyseed and butter sauce; if not, the liqueur coffee is excellent. Moya is not the flashiest international restaurant in Oxford. The wipe-down chairs give the otherwise modern décor a slightly dated air, and, however craftily prepared, Slovakian home-cooking is never going to be as hipster as sushi or tapas. Yet seated at Moya’s tabes are locals who come back again and again because they know they’ll leave fuller and happier.

Should colleges adopt meat-free hall days?

YES: The choice of reducing meat consumption has significant environmental impact

Michael Shao

It’s easy to pity a vegetarian. Not only for their incredible sacrifices made towards giving up delicious rashers of bacon we take for granted each morning, but also their ability to put up with, essentially, an assortment of “sides” for dinner. The vegetarian option is usually something that looks variably unappetising to vegetarians and non-vegetarians alike when dining in college.

Most of my vegetarian friends usually end up dining on a plate of side options at the end of each day. Meat-free-days off er an initial solution to the sub-par food that is already served to students who do not eat meat by dedicating a day or two to their preferences each week.

This could also help introduce higher quality vegetarian style diets to students who are otherwise led to believe that vegetarians live a life off of tinned zucchini, and thus are more likely to oppose propositions like meat-free days in the first place.

That being said, the core reason for adopting meat-free-days in hall is neither to extend options to vegetarians nor to introduce vegetarian meals and diets to students. It is something much more simple and blind to dietary preferences: the impact that eating meat produced by modern industrial farm practices has on our environment.

Divestment campaigns run well at Oxford and many are quite active, such as the one at St. Hilda’s, which seeks to reduce the college investment in fossil fuels. Few would question their actions, which are made in the effort to slow climate change.

People are constantly told to do their part to conserve water. We tell children to turn off the tap while they brush their teeth, not only to save water, but also to develop long-term habits of mindfulness around the conservation and efficient usage of water in a world where 2.8 billion people experience shortages.

The introduction of meat-free days is equally reasonable. I hardly believe that people opposing the proposition would oppose specific legislation that prevents sprinkler usage during times of severe drought. This question is no more than a more mindful proposition of the same logic used behind wasting water on keeping your lawns green while other people barely have enough water to drink. A pound of beef requires an astounding 1,799 gallons of water to produce while millions have access to potable water only once a week. Thus, it is no surprise that the Wadham College Student Union chose to adopt meat-free days two years ago.

Do remember as well that no vegan or vegetarian is shackling you to the dinner table with chains made of broccoli and tofu and forcing you to eat piles of lettuce. Most colleges at Oxford, unlike most American colleges, do have a pay-as-you-go system where funds are deducted from your college accounts each time you eat.

At many other universities, you pay for a term of unlimited dining for three meals per day through your total tuition fee. In those cases, the argument can be made that you are being forced to eat veggies for your buck, but eating at hall here is different. If you are rattled at the thought of eating a dinner without meat, you can at least rest easy that you won’t have to pay for it and opt out. Even at American universities, there is often the choice to go to another dining hall that is serving meat that day.

If steak is the light of your life, you can always eat out at the variety of restaurants that Oxford has to offer. For those concerned about protein deficiency—do not pretend that you aren’t already vigorously shaking a can of whey protein mixture, and that you once saw that video of the bodybuilder with a self proclaimed vegan diet and wondered how the hell did he do that?

What would my proposal be in an actual scenario where meat-free days in hall do not meet significant resistance? I would like to see one meat-free day in hall per week, which is a good place to start. The concrete, real-world effects of such a slight change in our eating habits far outweigh any pain we might receive from loss of personal preference. The real challenge lies in inducing students to see that what seems like a purely personal choice is indeed personal, but also happens to impact hundreds of millions of others on this earth. It is valuable to recognise the privilege that we have and try to do our part if it simply means making a deduction in our diet that in a global context is completely trivial and negligible.

 

NO: Meatless days represent the questionable tradition of universities enforcing lifestyle choices on students

Colin Donnelly

Arguments for meatless days invariably run along the same lines—meat production is bad for the environment, cruel to animals and a reduction in meat consumption is good for our health. Now the voracity of these claims, particularly the last two, can be disputed. However, attempts to debate the ethics and sense of eating meat rather miss the point.

If the arguments for abstaining are so good, people should be convinced on the merits of the argument. If any individual wants to have a vegetarian option, he or she is perfectly free to do so as vegetarian options are provided at every meal. But it is not enough for some campaigners to cleanse themselves of animal flesh-like evangelical preachers they are possessed by the need to purify others as well. This would be fine if they attempted to gain converts by convincing them, but instead they turn to JCR fiat to attain their ends.

This dictates to the entire college body what they ought to be eating, rather than allowing them to decide for themselves. It reeks of classic statist holier-than-thou snobbery. It is the worst form of elitism to imagine those who disagree with you must simply be misguided, and they ought to be coerced into cooperation for their own good.

There are legitimate disagreements to be had regarding the consumption of meat, and I have tremendous respect for vegetarians. However, I encourage anti-meat campaigners to have the same respect, part of which is recognising there are acceptable points of view outside of their own and allowing people to make their own choices.

This paternalistic desire to limit choice is a natural outgrowth of a worldview which attempts to pathologise disagreement. Those with whom certain groups disagree regarding policing are labelled racist. Those with whom they disagree on gay marriage and hate laws are labelled homophobes. Those with whom they disagree on abortion or maternity leave are labelled sexist.

It’s much easier to give someone a label and thereby write them off than actually confront their beliefs. This is not to deny that racism, sexism, and homophobia exist, but simply to say that all of these issues are areas of disagreement which should be settled through discussion and debate, rather than overly simplistic labelling and social censure.

The same is true of debates around vegetarianism. If the advocates of meatless days are so sure they can confidently impose their policy on entire colleges then why can they not attain their ends by convincing students to freely choose to give up meat, even for a day?

Supporters of enforced meatless days will argue people are unlikely to change their ways unless they are prodded to and generally a JCR motion has to pass in order for a meatless day to be instated. However, the first objection could easily be solved by creating a day on which the default option is the vegetarian, and those seeking meat can option to an animal based repast if they wish to.

The second belies a willful ignorance of both the way JCRs work in practice and a fundamental misunderstanding of minority rights. JCR motions are passed by a relatively small number of students who bother to turn up to the soporifically boring and usually irrelevant meetings, and supporters of meat free days generally pack the house for these motions. But even if the JCR does serve as a fair conduit of student opinion, if just one student doesn’t want to practice vegetarianism, they shouldn’t have to.

The purpose of university is to learn and develop intellectually and socially, not to have lifestyle choices thrust upon you. Meatless days are the latest iteration of a proud tradition of universities enforcing moral codes on students. In the past students’ sex lives and friendly associations were governed by authorities who also believed they knew what was best for their charges.

The extreme wing of the vegetarian left has quickly come to resemble the ideological ancestors they claim to despise—Victorian prudes. Meatless days are a cowardly exercise of those who could not attain their goals by reason alone, and therefore seek to impose their moral vision on unwilling victims by force. They are an affront to the basic values of higher education and of the university, and they must not stand.

Trudeau: a liberal’s nightmare

1

If you’ve been on social media at any point in the past few months, there’s a pretty high chance you’ll have seen a post about how great Justin Trudeau is. Canada’s 23rd Prime Minister has won a great deal of affection from British millennials for his good looks, support for equal rights and feminism and his sympathy toward Syrian refugees to name just a few. The overall perception is that Trudeau is a really great guy. However, once you look beyond “15 Times The Justin Trudeau Thirst Went Too Far” and “Here’s Justin Trudeau Saying ‘Yaaas’ On A Loop For Eternity” as sources of information or the pictures of him hugging a refugee or cradling young animals, it becomes clear the hype surrounding him is not to be believed.

Indeed, his record in government so far has been poor. During his election campaign, Trudeau and the Liberal Party admitted they would run a budget deficit, but suggested they would be able to keep it to $10 billion per year. In March 2016, just six months into office, Finance Minister Bill Morneau announced the budget deficit would in fact be $29 billion a year. Of course, excuses can be made – this catastrophic failure to meet a policy aim was only due to the low oil price, right?

Progressive values were again ignored in September, when Trudeau’s administration approved the Pacific NorthWest LNG project in British Columbia, which will directly lead to 5.3 million tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions. Not only will this clearly have bad environmental effects, it also compromises the rights of British Columbia’s large indigenous population and ignores Canada’s need to diversify its economy. This project only furthers the nation’s strong focus on fossil fuel extraction as the basis of the economy, which is clearly unsustainable, and Trudeau’s continuation of this does little to prove that he is in control of that issue.

For those charmed by promises surrounding refugees, it should be noted Trudeau did indeed manage his promise to take 25,000 Syrian refugees into the country, albeit three months behind schedule. However, whilst it is admirable to bring thousands of impoverished families into the country, Trudeau should also prove he is working to tackle the preexisting issue surrounding poverty in Canada. It may be a cynical view, but it certainly seems like this is another case of Trudeau’s identity politics coming to the fore yet again: he would rather be seen as a charitable, generous man in the media than actually address key issues.

Finally, on his record on equal rights, it is true that Trudeau is a staunch supporter of gay marriage and labels himself a feminist, but even in this fi eld he is guilty of hypocrisy. After all, despite their awful human rights record, Saudi Arabia remains a trade partner of Canada, and the Liberals were accused of misleading the population earlier in the year by claiming they were unable to cancel the $12 billion arms deal between the countries in 2014.

Clearly, Justin Trudeau is not everything he is made out to be. Whilst it is hard to deny that he is an attractive man who may well hold good values close to his heart, his governmental record is the stuff of nightmares for any true Canadian progressives.

One thing I’d change about Oxford… Drinking culture

6

Oxford can be a hellish place today, and the pervasive drinking culture is partly to blame. We made freshers’ week into one long booze-up. We hijacked matriculation, ensuring that a dignified ceremony would find itself subject to criticism in national newspapers. When you hear that a fellow student was found unconscious and had to be “looked after” for fear they may choke on their own vomit, you can’t help thinking “something must be done”.

It is not drinking that is so shocking, but the extent of it. I was appalled to find my own college Trinity had made it into the Telegraph due to its students’ penchant for heavy-drinking. Maybe I’m being a bit prudish, allowing my own experiences to colour my view, but there is something slightly degrading about your college, being subject to criticism in a national paper. This, combined with student newspapers’ coverage of the story, serves to somehow vilify my college in a way. We are not all like that, but it does serve to scratch the surface of what I think is a university-wide problem.

It has become a widely-held view, that consent classes and other such methods of public education are beneficial. I’m in no way saying that passing out due to heavy drinking is comparable to sexual assault. It isn’t. But I do think that if we are going to educate students about the rules of consent, then we should do more to explain the effects of heavy-drinking. Having seen the consequences of a lifetime of heavy drinking for members of my own family, university is a formative experience. It should also be an educative one where drinking is concerned.

This is an opportunity to inform people of the consequences of drinking to excess and to reassure those who don’t drink that it is no way obligatory. We have the power to make a difference and raise awareness of the consequences of drinking to excess, I propose that we use it.