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.

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.

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.

I recently learned something extraordinary: the life expectancy in Scotland is 756 days. At least that period spanned the “once-in-a-lifetime” independence referendum and Sturgeon’s announcement of draft legislation for another. I jest, of course. Although, we do seem trapped in a spiral of tedious perpetuity.

In true demagogue fashion, the self-proclaimed lodestar of the Scottish people has beguiled the masses. The Geiger counter of look-at-me delirium has gone zoink off the scale and downhearted Scots have lapped it up.

The whole premise of her argument is that Brexit is being foisted on the Scottish people, who in the majority voted to remain. But the question was clear: should the United Kingdom remain a member? The home nations’ verdict was irrelevant.

It is also undeniable that Scots knew an inout EU referendum was a possibility two years before the independence poll. Even as Holyrood passed the Scottish referendum legislation, support for Brexit was six points ahead.

Later, during the campaign, it was clarified that a sovereign Scotland would be jettisoned out the EU. However, if independence was rejected, Scotland’s single market access would be conditional on UK membership. It is spurious to now claim this was tantamount to an indefinite EU guarantee.

I believe the Scottish Government has a dual mandate: to remain within the UK and the EU. Seeing as it is impossible to reconcile both, which commitment is stronger? While 1.6 million supported EU membership, over 2 million were against independence.

Logic would have her commit to the latter, but you would be mistaken. Kiboshing any faith in Sturgeon’s fairness of judgement, she has declared her cabal of remoaning Holyrood mandarins will prepare the necessary legislation for a second referendum. After all, while 250,000 jobs in Scotland depend on EU membership, over a million depend on the UK. Revenues from North Sea Oil have collapsed by 97 per cent since 2009 and the Scottish fiscal deficit is now more than double the UK’s as a percentage of GDP.

A nation on the cusp of independence? Utter hogwash. In any case, the decision-making influence of Scotland in a post-Brexit EU would be zilch; utterly subservient to the Franco-German axis. What Sturgeon claims is in Scotland’s best interests is ostensibly the case.

Clearly, the view of Scottish voters must influence negotiations. A Denmark-style arrangement (unlikely as it may be), could necessitate a hard border and tariffs with the UK, the nation to which Scotland exports 64 per cent of its output.

Sturgeon knows only too well now is not the right time for round two. She is successfully agitating the Westminster nomenklatura whilst simultaneously appeasing her activists. She should instead devote her efforts to securing the UK’s best deal, and therefore Scotland’s, as although she may find the Tories uncomfortable, merely 37 per cent of Scots favour a second referendum. Besides which, a third of her own supporters voted for Brexit.

Complacency and the perception of self-interest is what crushed Labour in Scotland. She would be wise to tame her chutzpah and not make that same mistake. Nicola Sturgeon cannot risk calling a referendum and losing again.

Brexit Britain is coming—and Theresa May’s showboat will bring it. For her first hundred days, our second female Prime Minister has done nothing but show off. This wasn’t exactly expected from the woman who presented herself as the sensible, practical alternative to Andrea Leadsom and her vision of Britain as a Stepfordesque 1950’s idyll. Before her (un)planned rise, Theresa May was that nasty Home Secretary who kept banging on about immigrants. Now she’s joshing with Boris on stage at the Conservative Party conference as though she too were a ‘celebrity politician’—never mind the banter she’s been having with Jeremy at the dispatch box. She’s even got her own Thug Life parodies now. But why the show? Why has boring old Theresa suddenly become such an extravert?

It’s because she hasn’t actually done very much. The first hundred days of any premiership are vital and whilst it may all be smiles and jokes now, yet to come are the cold political realities that our new Prime Minister must confront. She is still in her honeymoon period, bathing in the glow of Corbyn’s ineptitude and the perception that she is the Conservative’s, and the nation’s, unity candidate. But she has won no general election. She has no manifesto to implement. Her entire basis for government appears to rest on the unspeakably grating tautology that ‘Brexit means Brexit’.

Yet, it’s not that she hasn’t been able to do anything. There simply hasn’t been anything to do. Normally, the first months of a new government are its most dynamic, pushing through its most ambitious legislation. After only a week in power New Labour had already given control of interest rates to the Bank of England, one of the cornerstones of that government’s legacy. Yet, apart from Heathrow—a decision which should really have been taken years ago —not one major policy has been agreed upon.

But what about grammar schools, I hear you cry! Whilst grammar schools are indeed a bold policy, they have only been hinted at, with no firm proposals in sight. And I don’t think there ever will be. This is one of the most important facets of our Prime Minister’s newfound showmanship. In creating a national debate of gargantuan proportions May has cleverly distracted the public and the media from the far more pressing and difficult task of Brexit. The Grammar School act of the show will end as suddenly as it started.

Maybe you think I’m being harsh on Theresa. After all these are exceptional circumstances. The PM is simply doing the best she can. And I agree, the circumstances have been exceptional and so too has the Prime Minister’s performance. At the same time as bragging about how quiet, humble and hardworking she is, Theresa May has spun better than Blair, manoeuvred better than Brown, and charmed more than Cameron. In this hyper-normalised, post-truth society, only a politician with such attributes is capable of being Prime Minister. Or at least a politician who can appear to possess them. To judge an administration merely by its policy success would be like choosing a car solely on how efficient its engine was. Important but at first of little concern. In her cabinet appointments, like any good salesman she garnished the car with exciting extras.

Causing controversy when there was no need, again to draw attention away from Brexit. By sharing the stage with Boris and his Band of Brexiteers she not only created another useful distraction but provided the ideal supporting act for The Theresa May Show. May can brag about giving the Brexit audience what it wants and reap the rewards from this group’s capacity to exhilarate some her less-enthusiastic supporters. All the while, this potentially difficult but gaff-prone bunch of MPs could commit an act of political suicide at any moment. By putting them in the cabinet the Prime Minister has given them all the rope they need to do just that.

This gives her the room to appeal to the centre, which she did with aplomb in her speech on the steps of Downing Street, transforming her public perception. Thanks largely to the significant shift in tone the speech represented. “The government I lead will be driven, not by the interest of the privileged few but by yours.” She continually showed off about how she understood the anxieties of normal people unlike other politicians. Yet these boasts, these changes in persona are all part the show. Like the best performers, Mrs. May’s true personality remains hidden from view. We knew what Brown, Blair and Cameron were like. But even after a hundred days under the media spotlight we still know remarkably little about Theresa May.

But sooner or later the tough decisions will have to be made. No amount of jokes, gusto and spin can cover up the difficulties that will follow. It’s true that a Prime Minister should not immediately be judged by what her government does. Yet in the annuls of history this is all anyone will care about. During her first hundred days Theresa May has given a strong performance, enabled by her supreme confidence.

But as with the car, you can only know what it’s really like under the glossy exterior after driving it for a few years. I think the same will be true of the thus far slick and capable Prime Minister. In years to come, we might reflect on May’s first 100 days as an insubstantial period: one barren of policy, and unfocused on the issues that matter.