Monday, May 12, 2025
Blog Page 48

Lights, camera, Liaisons

Georgia Campbell
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Lights, camera, Liaisons

If you were looking for a single emblem of Clarendon Production’s mammoth staging of Les Liaisons Dangereuses at the Oxford Playhouse, you wouldn’t be hard-pressed for impressive options. Maybe it would be the palmful of butter beans in the orchestra pit, gently sifted to imitate the sound of rainfall. It might be the several onstage (and offstage) cameras, manually operated, live-projecting otherwise hidden moments of the performance. Or perhaps it would be the 60 plus members of cast and crew, who have worked intensely over the space of just a few months to construct the show from the ground up.

In short, there is nothing ‘low-key’ about this production. 

Christopher Hampton’s Olivier award-winning play, based on the 1782 epistolary novel of the same name, is a tale of deceit and seduction amongst the upper echelons of 18th-century French society. Letters and secret communications take centre stage: at one point a character’s lower back is used, naturally, as a writing desk. In this new student rendition, however, the play’s themes of perspective and specularity will be amplified by the use of live cinema. 

Liaisons represents, for Clarendon Productions, a natural progression from their previous production of Amadeus – also set in 18th century Europe. Director and Clarendon co-founder, Lucas Angeli, states the incorporation of cinema emerged organically from the content of the play itself – what he calls ‘the ultimate play of surfaces’. The cameras will capture and broadcast actors’ expressions and movements in detail usually impossible with ordinary theatre, allowing the audience to close in on the most intimate and tense moments of the show. But it is no small feat. Beyond the people operating the cameras, there will also be a team behind a switchboard performing live edits, deciding in real-time which camera will be streaming and when. On this point, the company had input from celebrated theatre director, Katie Mitchell OBE (alumni and Honorary Fellow of Magdalen College), one of the pioneers of this form of live cinema. The show has also been produced in collaboration with the Oxford Playhouse itself, a partnership that Sonya Luchanskaya, Coordinating Film Lead, stated was a ‘massive gift…we’ve been able to work with people who really really know what they’re doing’.

Through the tension between the realism of this onstage film and the layers of artificiality created within the theatre itself, the team hope to capture a ‘postmodern’ approach to 18th century drama. Costumes and set design will ‘gesture towards’ period without being beholden to it (going ‘full period’ is also, notes Angeli, ‘bloody expensive’).

It is a production that, through every possible outlet, pushes the envelope of student theatre. The entire performance will be accompanied by an original score composed and conducted by Musical Director, Lou Newton. It is the first time the orchestra pit of the Playhouse has ever been used for a student production. The music was written completely from scratch over the course of the summer, and is timed down to the second to ensure that it matches up with the actors’ dialogue (the speed of which, of course, changes with every performance). The music is so closely bound with the drama that it’s now almost impossible to imagine how the play is ever performed without it. With over 26 orchestral musicians and a percussion section that includes, amongst other things, sandpaper, cellophane, and the aforementioned ‘rain beans’, it is an incredibly impressive set up. This blending of foley (sound effects usually added in post-production) into the live score aims to, as Newton states, ‘gradually challenge the audience’s ears…I wanted it to feel like there was a boom mic over the scene’. Though it would have been simple enough to find a decent audio file of, for example, rain or crackling fire, ‘short-cut’, it would appear, is a term that this team has never heard of. ‘The show just requires’, jokes Angeli, ‘a real commitment to the bit’. 

Now, just a few days out from opening night, all of the play’s many moving parts – cast, film team, orchestra, crew – have begun to slot into place. It will undoubtedly be one of the most all-out, technically spectacular shows that Oxford student drama has seen in a long time. So, is there anything the production team would like an audience to know in advance? 

Angeli is keen not to kill the mystery: ‘I don’t love the idea of the audience knowing all our tricks’. In a leaf out of protagonist Valmont’s playbook, apparently some dramatic scheming is best left under-wraps. 

But, then again, the story of Liaisons teaches us not to trust the middle-man (or any man – or woman – for that matter). Who can know what’s real in a play so doused in secrecy? 

The public’s only option, then, is to experience the drama for themselves. 

Les Liaisons Dangereuses will run from 7-9 November  at The Main Stage, Oxford Playhouse.

Alan Johnson on his time as Home Secretary, raising tuition fees, and why he loves Harold Wilson

Hassan Akram
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Alan Johnson on his time as Home Secretary, raising tuition fees, and why he loves Harold Wilson

Alan Johnson was an MP from 1997 until 2017 and worked in various shadow Cabinet positions under both Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, including as Education Secretary, Health Secretary and Home Secretary. He has written four volumes of memoirs and three crime fiction novels, as well as the biography Harold Wilson: Twentieth Century Man. He is currently Chancellor of the University of Hull.

Cherwell: Could you tell us a bit about your early life and career before you went into politics?

Johnson: Yes, it’s all documented in a memoir called This Boy, my childhood memoir that ends when I was 18. Born in North Kensington, which was a pretty run down area of London, and still is. It’s where Grenfell Tower is, which is tragically now the best way to locate where North Kensington is. Very different to South Kensington. The life expectancy for a boy born in North Kensington, as I was, is 16 years less than a boy born in South Kensington. So that’s one London borough which demonstrates the obscenity of these health inequalities. So I went to school there, passed my 11-plus and went to Sloane Grammar School in Chelsea. Left when I was 15. Didn’t have a happy time at school. By then, I had no parents. My sister, who’s a couple of years older than me, was bringing me up. So she was 16 and I was 13 when our mother died, with my father having done a moonlight flit many years before. Thankfully, a social worker got involved, kept us together and actually got us a council flat, which was pretty difficult for a 16 year old and a 13 year old. The age of majority then was 21. I’m told by social workers that it just couldn’t happen now. 

I was in a couple of bands, playing guitar with The Area, and then The In-Betweens, made a record when I was 16. Thought that was going to be my future, but all our gear got nicked, and when I was 18, I joined the Post Office, or the GPO, as it was, then became a uniform civil servant, because the Post Office was part of the Civil Service. So I actually signed the Official Secrets Act when I was 18, becoming a postman, and then rose through the ranks of the union of Post Office workers. It was originally called the Union of Communication Workers, and then the Communication Workers Union, and became its general secretary. Then went into parliament in 1997 to be the MP for Hull West and Hessle in that great landslide Labour government. I was a Parliamentary Private Secretary to the Paymaster General by the end of that year that I went into Parliament.

Cherwell: What was it that inspired you to go into politics?

Johnson: I was in politics in the trade unions. I suppose what inspired me to become interested in politics was probably my English teacher at Sloane, a great man called Peter Carlin, who I dedicated my first novel to, because he encouraged me to write. He saw that I was a voracious reader, then got me reading on Bennett and Dickens and all kinds of authors that he thought I’d enjoy, and I did. And he also got all us boys to read Animal Farm by George Orwell. And he explained the subtext about the Bolshevik Revolution. I read everything that Orwell wrote then, probably by the age of 22, and Orwell was a great tutor, he was democratic socialist that was warning the world against totalitarianism in Animal Farm and in 1984, his two best known books. And that to me was a political education. He died before I was born, but he was my tutor.

Cherwell: You were an MP for 20 years between 1997 and 2017, and held three major posts as Education Secretary, Health Secretary, and Home Secretary. What would your proudest achievement be from each post?

Johnson: On education, probably lifting the education leaving age from 16 to 18. That was something I’d seen work in Canada, and I convinced both Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, and you had to convince them both because it was like a duopoly leadership at the time, that it was the right move to make. In the end, it was my successor at education, Ed Balls, who took it through Parliament. But that’s something I would claim as an achievement. 

On health, we did loads of things, in which I was just one of a team. I went to Health in 2007 and the increase in investment was already showing, we were recruiting more nurses and doctors and waiting times were coming down. When we came into government, people waited two years for elective surgery. We brought that down from two years to eight weeks, which was a tremendous achievement. And by the time we left government in 2010, satisfaction with the NHS was at record levels. I would say my biggest achievement there was the introduction of something called IAPT, which was Improving Access to Psychological Therapies, recruiting 1,600 psychological therapists which I was very proud of.

At the Home Office, crime had halved, neighbourhood policing was a reality, satisfaction with the police was at its highest level ever. So without naming one single achievement, I would say that all in all, Labour’s record on crime and antisocial behaviour was very good.

Cherwell: One of the policies that you pushed through was the raising of tuition fees to £3,000. Do you think that that might have set a precedent for endless increases in fees, warding off more and more young people who feel they can’t afford it? Recently, the government announced plans to rate it to £10,500. Would you change anything if you could go back?

Johnson: No, I wouldn’t. No, I’ve always thought that this idea that higher education should be completely free for one group of students, undergraduates, is ludicrous. Free education is absolutely right when everyone can participate in it. I left school at 15. I was paying taxes at 18, so that basically meant I was paying for people from much more prosperous backgrounds than me to have a free university education. I saw that as regressive, not progressive. Tuition fees are like a graduate tax. I found it was students that were the least opposed to this. It’s a great system. I was proud to take that legislation through, though the fees have been frozen virtually since 2014. When higher education is in crisis, fees are part of the solution, not part of the problem.

Cherwell: Do you regret never becoming party leader or prime minister?

Johnson: No, not at all. No, never. The regret would have been if I had become party leader. I mean, I didn’t want to do it. And you know, if you don’t want to do something, you shouldn’t do it, because you certainly won’t be very good at it. So I never wanted to do that. I was always more of a team player, I think. And I admire the people who do want to do that. What I wanted to do was write books, which eventually, thank God I did.

Cherwell: And so you start your first memoir, you start publishing in 2011 – your first memoir came out 2013 and that won The Orwell Prize. And did you feel a drive to write about your experiences?

Johnson: It won the Euro Prize and the Royal Society of Literature Ondaatje Prize. So I was very proud. In fact, all my memoirs won prizes. I was very proud of that. I’d wanted to be a writer and never thought the opportunity would come. And of course, it wouldn’t have come had I not been a government minister. So when the electorate dispensed with our services in 2010 and the coalition came in under Cameron and Clegg, I was suddenly a shadow minister rather than a minister. There was a lot of interest in an Alan Johnson book, but I didn’t want to write the kind of usual, boring political memoir. I don’t read them, and I don’t find any excitement writing them, but my agent suggested that I write about my childhood, which was an opportunity to write about my mother – who died very young – and to make her live again on the page, which was a privilege to be able to do, and to give full credit to my sister, who virtually brought me up despite her youth, because my mum was in and out of hospital before she eventually died of the heart complaint that she had.

So this book ended when I was 18, just getting married. I thought that was it, but it did phenomenally well. Still is doing well, by the way. And you know, there was an interest in what came next, hence, Please, Mister Postman, and then an interest in what comes after that, where it gets to the political memoir stage. And then it ended just as I was appointed Home Secretary. And that was enough memoirs, although I did write a music memoir about my love of music and my time in the music industry called In My Life. But that was enough writing about me. I was sick and tired of writing about myself.

Cherwell: Why did you turn to novel writing, and which of your three novels is your favourite?

Johnson: I turned to it because I wanted to continue writing but I made that dramatic switch to fiction. Some politicians have attempted it and failed. If anyone wants to read Boris Johnson’s novel, they’re welcome to. It was terrible. And he’s a good writer, you know, so people who can string a sentence together and write elegantly sometimes struggle with fiction. So that was my mountain to climb, that was my big challenge, and The Late Train to Gypsy Hill was the result. It’s currently being dramatised by BBC studios as a television series. You heard it here first. It was a three-book deal with the publisher, and I wanted to write a trilogy with my detective Louise Mangan, and completed that with Death on the Thames.

Cherwell: So now on to your latest book, Harold Wilson: Twentieth Century Man. Why did you choose Harold Wilson, of all the prime ministers to write about?

Johnson: Well, I was commissioned by the press who were doing this series of concise biographies of great prime ministers, of which I think Harold Wilson was one of the greatest. And so they approached me. I had to write it at the same time as writing the thriller, Death on the Thames, and, you know, I had such fun doing it. I remember Harold Wilson, he was as much a part of the 60s, when I went into my teens, as the Profumo scandal and Twiggy and The Beatles and all of that. Wilson was a very significant political figure, but his reputation was traduced after he stepped down, and although he had a brilliant mind, he was hit by dementia, and he found it impossible to defend himself for very long, and it’s about time his reputation is restored.

Cherwell: Did you ever meet Wilson personally?

Johnson: No, and I wish I had. I met his great nemesis, Ted Heath. For 10 years, Wilson led the Labour Party and Heath led the Conservative Party. In fact, it’s arguably the case that it was because of Wilson that Heath was elected. The Tories always elected public school boys. Harold Wilson was Queen Elizabeth II’s fifth Prime Minister, but the first educated at a state school, because when Harold Macmillan stood down, she appointed the 14th Earl of Hume, Alec Douglas-Home. Wilson played on that to an enormous extent to say he was an Edwardian-style gentleman who was holding back the country. And because of that, and because of Wilson’s popularity, when Alec Douglas-Home was beaten, which is 60 years ago almost to the day, 15 October 1964, Wilson became prime minister, and the Tories didn’t put an old Etonian into 10 Downing Street, or as head of the Conservative Party for another 30 or 40 years. Wilson’s success to a large degree influenced the Conservative Party.

Cherwell: What do you think the current government could learn from Wilson?

Johnson: Oh, goodness, every government of whatever political persuasion. He was a master of the political arts. Wilson’s great credit was keeping the two parts of the Labour Party which I think are more important than right and left, which is the intellectual wing, Gaitskell, Tony Benn; and the proletarian wing, Stafford, Morrison, Bevan, Cripps, etc. That’s what he kept together. And he did that superbly.

I think one of the greatest examples was the way he found a solution to the European problem. Back in the 70s, he took us into Europe. It was hugely controversial. In those days, Labour were basically against it, and the Conservatives were basically for it, in those very broad brush terms. And Wilson, when he came back into government in 1974 – he’d been out of power since 1970 – came back convinced that Britain’s future was as part of the European community, but he had the Labour conference having decided 10 to 1 against it, and decided to solve the issue by a referendum. How Wilson navigated his way through that to a successful referendum where the public voted overwhelmingly in every nation, in every region of England, by at least 66%, the way he engineered that and saw it through, took a political mastery that I don’t think we’ve seen either before or since.

Cherwell: What were his greatest legislative achievements?

He did more for the happiness, the serenity of individuals and their families than any other prime minister. I’d put him much higher than Churchill. Churchill was a great war leader, but he didn’t do much aside from that. What Wilson can point to is the changes to the Divorce Act that meant that unhappy couples didn’t have to stay together; legalising homosexuality just 10 years after Alan Turing, the great war hero of Bletchley Park, had been chemically castrated by the state for being homosexual; giving women control over their own fertility by legalising abortion; and giving them equal rights through the Equal Pay Act and the Sex Discrimination Act. He introduced the first protection of people from ethnic minorities, the Race Relations Act. When I used to walk to school, past those signs in shop windows: “Room to let – no Irish, no blacks, no dogs” – it was perfectly legal to do that until Wilson changed that through the Race Relations Act – an amazing record that he had as prime minister.

Cherwell: He also had a very witty and appealing personal style. My favourite moment is from a clip of him at a public meeting when a heckler yells, “Why do you support savages?” And then he retorts, “My friend, we do not support savages, we just allow them to come to our meetings, that’s all.”

Johnson: That was typical, and he taught himself how to do that. Originally, he wasn’t a very good speaker. In fact, when he was in Attlee’s government as President of the Board of Trade, the youngest cabinet minister since 1804, his speeches were described by a critic as “mountainous sandwiches of tedium.” It was Nye Bevan who said to him, “Forget this: learn repartee.” And he went out to these town hall meetings and all that and, gradually, taught himself how to relax more and how to make those kind of spontaneous remarks. He was also, by the way, and politicians today will sympathise with this, upset at the way he was treated by the press. He was having a drink on the House of Commons terrace one night and said to the person he was talking to: “If I was to jump over this wall, and walk across the Thames to St Thomas’s Hospital opposite, the headline in the Daily Mail would be WILSON CAN’T SWIM.” 

Cherwell: What was Wilson’s career at Oxford like?

Johnson: He was a Huddersfield lad, a grammar-school boy. Went to Jesus College, Oxford, and at the time, all the Labour intellectuals, like Gaitskell, Tony Crossland, Roy Jenkins, they were all Balliol people. He went to Jesus, but became the outstanding student of his generation. He went there to study modern history, and, at the Christmas break, he decided to switch to what was then called Modern Greats and is now PPE. His tutor would only allow him to do it if he acquired a second language. He was told he had to learn German. And so during the six-week Christmas break, he took a kind of teach-yourself German manual home, came back and passed the equivalent of an A level in German. That was his amazing brain. He was the first student ever to get an alpha plus in economics, he won the Gladstone prize with an 18,000 word essay with 400 footnotes on the railways. He then got the Webb Medley scholarship, which meant he could go to New College, where he studied under G.D.H. Cole and became a don at Oxford, aged 21, so he was incredibly successful at everything he did because of that incredible brain.

With that incredible brain, he was entitled to be a little bit arrogant, and yet everyone who knew him, no matter what political persuasion, all say he was a man totally without pretentiousness, totally without pomposity, decent and kind. It’s quite easy to become pretentious, as you’ve probably found talking to former politicians, but not Wilson. I’d have loved to have met him, to have worked with him in Parliament.

Cherwell: And I think your book will help spread the Wilson legend.

Johnson: Yeah, I hope so. It’s concise, and when you distil all of Wilson’s life into 33,000 words, it shows just how remarkable his achievements were.

Alan Johnson’s sharp, pacy, and informative book, Harold Wilson: Twentieth Century Man, is available now in hardback from Swift Press.

For good free speech: Listen

Conor Walsh
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For good free speech: Listen

Wherever you turn to in Oxford, the words ‘free speech’ or ‘freedom of expression’ never seem too far away. Following the disbandment of Oxford Action for Palestine (OA4P)’s encampment and the revision of university-wide free speech guidelines, you’d be forgiven for being cautious about what you say, or more prudently, don’t say, on university grounds. Nonetheless, free speech is an integral part of democracy. And as intellectual power-houses, encompassing diverse student bodies who are often politically organised and politically motivated, universities are at the heart of free speech and social justice. If you can’t speak freely on a university campus, all hope seems lost.

During her annual Oration, the Vice-Chancellor, Professor Irene Tracey, announced plans for the ‘Sheldonian Series’. This new, termly event seeks to explore “the big questions of our age,” representing a variety of views from across academia. The discussions will be guided by the ‘Free Speech Tips’ devised by students and staff at Worcester College, as well as Heads of Houses from Balliol, Brasenose, Mansfield and Somerville, and hope to tackle difficult or otherwise controversial topics. The tips provide guidance on organising and orchestrating controversial events, upholding the right to disagree, and the importance of “respect for the individual.” Yet they’re only the tip of the iceberg – if you’ll pardon the pun – when it comes to fostering inclusive, civil debate. In a time of heated, geo-political tensions – a world shrouded in war, violence and humanitarian crises – it seems almost impossible to reconcile humanity’s deep-rooted, complex divisions. “Free and inclusive speech” requires balancing freedom of intellectual exploration with respect for all identities and beliefs. But in 2024, the ability to hold a conversation about Gaza, trans rights or reparations for slavery in which everyone feels equally heard and free to speak is but a naive dream. Such polite disagreement is more akin to a utopian vision than an achievable reality.

Like much of our political language, free speech finds its origins in ancient Greece, arising from two, quite distinct concepts. The first, isegoria, refers to the idea of equal speech in public, as practised in parliamentary chambers. Whilst the second, parrhesia, is about speaking freely and frankly: think die-hard Trump supporters. Over time these two concepts converged to denote what we now call freedom of speech. But there is a tension here between these differing terms: the former expresses equality, whilst the latter is concerned with liberty. This tension between liberty and equality is as clear today as it was in ancient Greece. As seen in its origins, what we often think of as freedom of speech can have different, nuanced and misconstrued meanings. Much like an elephant and a squirrel on a seesaw, balancing freedom of expression with respect and sensitivity is impossibly problematic.

Last week I attended a talk with Lord William Hague. The former foreign secretary was grilled on countless topics, including everything from war in Ukraine and the failings of the UN, to the future of the UK Conservative party and his bid to become the next Chancellor of the University. Amongst the many interesting insights made by Lord Hague was a comment on the tensions surrounding free speech. In reply to a question about freedom of expression on campus, he remarked that: “listening to views that make you uncomfortable is one of the most important parts of education.” 

Lord Hague’s comment has been rattling around my head for the past week, leading to the dawning realisation that, perhaps, we have been taking the wrong approach to freedom of speech all along. The impossibility of reconciling freedom of expression with respect and sensitivity seems less intimidating when we shift our attention from speaking to listening.

When it comes to freedom of speech, we’re so obsessed with being heard that we often forget to listen. Whilst liberty and equality of expression are naturally important, polite disagreement can only work if it consists of a dialogue as opposed to a one-sided speech or lecture. In times of heated divisions, especially when our personal ideologies are at stake, we can get lost in the heat of the moment. We can focus so intensely on getting our point across, on being heard, that we’re oblivious to the arguments and thoughts on the other end of the spectrum, or the other side of the debate. For all our good intentions, we end up talking past each other instead of to each other. We must ask ourselves, if we so long for freedom of speech, for polite conversation and civil discourse, shouldn’t that involve listening as much as speaking?

If done correctly, the Sheldonian Series might enable conflicting and potentially polarising views to be expressed respectfully in a publicly accessible forum. But, more fundamentally, the series can provide an opportunity for varying opinions to be heard as well as expressed. Specific details about what we should expect of the series — how it is to be orchestrated, the speakers it will invite and the views it will represent — are yet to be established. But the Vice-Chancellor’s endorsement of the ‘Free Speech Tips’ is crucial. Whilst listening is not the primary concern of the tips, they do well to highlight that speakers should be “listened to in good faith”. No guidance on free speech can ever be perfect, but the principle that attendees should “respect the speaker’s right to speak and agree to allow them to be heard” is an important point. If we wish to talk to one another instead of talking past one another, listening, even if we find something disagreeable or uncomfortable, is an important skill for attendees as much as it is for speakers. A public speaker is only as powerful as its audience – if nobody cares to listen, our words will only ever fall upon deaf ears.

Of course, listening alone cannot solve our problems. Reconciling the world’s geo-political tensions – cultural, ethnic and religious divisions – is not so easy. But it’s possible that a greater emphasis on listening might help this age-old tension in freedom of speech feel slightly less utopian and increasingly realistic. Providing a venue for polite disagreement, a safe space for debate and reconciliation, is a noble, if not challenging, endeavour. But if the Sheldonian Series embraces listening as much as it does equal representation and diversity of thought, there might be hope for freedom of speech after all.

Baroness Janet Royall: “We’ve got to always search for new ways of bringing people in and for breaking down those perceptions of elitism”

Madelina Gordon
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Baroness Janet Royall: “We’ve got to always search for new ways of bringing people in and for breaking down those perceptions of elitism”

Baroness Jan Royall is a British Labour Party politician and currently, the Principal of Somerville College. She has been an MP, a member of the House of Lords, and Leader of the House of Lords. Cherwell spoke to her about her candidacy for Chancellor of Oxford University. 

Cherwell: Being Oxford Chancellor is a curious job because in many ways it’s a figurehead, an honorary position more so than anything else. Why do you think that’s the next step in your career? Why is it that you want the job?

Royall: So as you know, I’ve been at Oxford for seven years, and I came here not really understanding the university. I didn’t come here as an undergraduate. And over that time, I’ve been able to better understand why this is a great university. And this might sound really bizarre, but I really esteem it. I’ve fallen in love with it in so many ways. I just think it is a fantastic university. And today, of course, for the ninth year running, we’ve become the top university in the world. Well, that is pretty damn good. It’s a good day to be being interviewed by a student newspaper. I’m very proud of that.

I’m also an insider. I’ve been living and breathing this place for a long time, and I think that that gives me a good understanding of the University, of its people, most importantly. That is, its students, its academics, its researchers, and its support staff. And I’ve got a notion of all the brilliant research that goes on. The teaching is phenomenal, but there’s also fantastic research, and it’s research that gives us the number one position in the world.

Yes, the Oxford Chancellor kind of is a support role. You’re not out there managing the University. I certainly would hate to do that, and I think the Vice-Chancellor does a brilliant job. But I think that the position has so many strengths that I would be delighted and privileged to be an advocate for the University. And still, there are some real and some perceived barriers, both in terms of trying to ensure that people from whatever background have the confidence to apply here if they’ve got potential, but there are also barriers, as we know, between the town and gown, and we’re breaking those down, but I’d really like to do some more of that, and I think the Chancellor can help with that.

Cherwell: Do you think there is a part or a feature of your upbringing, or particular experiences when you were younger that have shaped your politics today, or just in general, shapes the person you are today?

Royall: So I come from basically a working class background. I wasn’t poor by any means, but my dad was a chauffeur, and then had a corner shop, and then went on to do a social work course and looked after some kids, who used to be called ‘maladjusted’. My mum was a nursery nurse, and so I had a very kind of normal, very loving upbringing, but I was always aware of social injustices, I suppose. And I always wanted to bring about change.

When I was a kid, I didn’t have any confidence, and it was Girl Guides, actually, that helped give me confidence. But then when I went to university, I got more and more involved not in politics, per se, but I got involved in things like the Nicaragua solidarity campaign and anti-apartheid. So I came in from that angle, and then I got passionate about the European Union, and that’s what drove me into politics. I belonged to something called the young European left, and then I became a member of the Labor Party, and I’ve been in it ever since. I’ve always wanted to bring about change, because I think the world is in a perilous state at the moment, but there’s always been a need for change, and I’ve always wanted to help drive that change. And it’s always seemed to me that young people and education is where it all starts.

Cherwell: As a woman working in very masculine settings, in places like parliament, but in politics in general, how do you think your understanding of gender has been influenced by those experiences, and has that informed your perspective today?

Royall: It’s been hugely influenced. And there have always been women for me to look up to, such as Barbara Castle. I worked for Barbara for a long time, and she’s just this beacon of strength, and I thought, I want to be like her. And then there are people like Harriet Harman, just the most amazing women. And in Oxford, I’ve learnt more about the women, for example, at Somerville, like Janet Vaughan. But there are just incredible women in the world.

But there’s always been that injustice, in that women, for many, many reasons, haven’t been able to get to the top. They haven’t had their voices heard. There’s been so much, sometimes overt discrimination, but sometimes lack of confidence. And I’ve always wanted to be part of bringing about that change as well. And in the University, there are now, I mean, there are equal numbers of men and women students, which is great, but in terms of academics, there’s still not enough women academics, and certainly not enough women, academics in higher levels. Yeah. And it’s worse, I would say for black and ethnic minorities, absolutely.

Cherwell: Given Oxford does have this history of being a bastion of elitism and class power, how do you think you can reconcile the emancipatory view you have with tradition?

Royall: It’s perceived to be a bastion of elitism, and I know it used to be, but I have seen great changes in the University over the last seven years in terms of widening access and participation not only in this college, but across the University. That’s been a great joy. So we are breaking down those barriers. There are so many initiatives which are bearing fruit, one of which is the Astraphoria foundation year, and not enough colleges are participating in that at the moment. I’m very glad to be part of that, because we’ve got to always search for new ways of bringing people in and for breaking down those perceptions of elitism. Because honestly, I don’t think that elitism is a reality in Oxford anymore. It is a perception, and we’ve got to break down those barriers of perception.

Cherwell: What do you mean by seeing elitism as just a perception?

Elitism exists as a perception in terms of people applying to the University. I fully support student organisations like Class Act, because I know that for some students from nontraditional backgrounds, and certainly some who come from ethnic minorities, when they arrive, they feel uncomfortable. It’s getting better. In all colleges across the University, great efforts are being made to make a more welcoming environment. I think for a long time, access was getting better, but when people got here, we forgot that they needed support, and I think that’s changing. 

Cherwell: What do you think the biggest challenge for students is once they are at Oxford? In what ways do you think the University can take action on this challenge?

Royall: Finance is a big issue for students. I think that colleges do a remarkable job in providing bursaries, and I’m very proud of what we do here at Somerville. We are one of the top providers of bursaries. So that’s important. I think the University, everybody in this University, or the advocates for the University, need to be making arguments in favour of a better deal for students, in a way, I completely accept that.

Tuition fees, I mean, they have been stagnant since, essentially, since 2012 that’s caused huge problems for the University, for the higher education sector, undoubtedly, they will have to go up with inflation, but that must mean the restoration of maintenance grants. And I would say that it should also mean that maintenance grants should be in addition to student loans, because that would really restore the local playing field.

Cherwell: You’ve said that you’re a passionate believer in the democratic values that university represents. And for that reason, I wanted to ask what would have been your response to student protests? How do you think Oxford as a university ought to exist to best protect freedom of speech, or else balance other interests that are at stake in issues of freedom of speech?

Royall: I think freedom of speech is fundamental in our democracy, including in our University. And I think that students, everybody in the University, should hear and should listen to all people from differing views. As long as it’s within the law, people should be open to hearing different views, even views which they find difficult. But I think that’s part of living in society. So I fundamentally believe in freedom of speech when it comes to protests and demonstrations. Demonstrations, a right to protest, that’s a fundamental right, but I think it has to be done carefully. I think that we have to be aware when we have protests of the way in which they’re conducted, because we don’t want to cause hurt to other people. I’m really, really worried still about antisemitism and Islamophobia, which have been on the increase for a long time, but especially since the abhorrent attacks by Hamas on seventh of October, and of course, the subsequent horrific wars in Gaza and now in Lebanon.

So we have to as a college, as a University, find ways of enabling people to bridge the divides, enabling people to listen to each other with respect to disagree agreeably, knowing that nobody’s going to agree. That’s okay if we disagree, but we’ve got to listen to other people’s point of view with respect.

Cherwell: You would be the first non-Oxford alumni to be Chancellor, since 1834 – the Duke of Wellington. But you’ve said that you think Oxford alumni can sometimes be misty eyed and lack objectivity…

Royall: I did say that. I really, really wish that I’d been to Oxford, okay, because I think it is the best sort of education. The tutorial system is extraordinary, and it gives you ,apart from the academic and scholarly input, it just gives you confidence. It teaches you to discuss, to debate, and to absorb information and then express yourself. And I think that’s brilliant.

So I suppose I’m jealous because I didn’t have such an education. But the fact that I didn’t have an Oxford education gives me a bit more clarity to be able to see it from the outside. What I find amazing is the relationship that alumni have with their colleges. I just think that’s extraordinary, and I love it. I admire it enormously. But for somebody who didn’t go to a collegiate university, the sort of relationships that have developed between alumni or between students and their tutors has my admiration.

Cherwell: So would you say not coming to Oxford is your USP?

Royall: I think it is a USP, yes. But I think my main USP is the fact that I’ve been here for seven years, living and breathing Oxford, and I think that gives you greater insight to the contemporary needs of the university and the future needs of the university.

Cherwell: In terms of balancing contemporary needs with the kind of past that Oxford has – I’m referring to its ties to imperialism and apartheid, for example – in what ways do you think Oxford should balance modernity and tradition? How can it remember its past without perpetuating those structures of injustice?

Royall: I think that many parts of the University are doing that very well. There are many discussions going on around the University about the injustices of the past and how we should consider them, think about them, and ensure that there’s nothing in our present and future that replicates those injustices. Those injustices are to be learned from, to be recognised, not to be hidden, but to be recognised and learnt from.

What I really like at the moment is the discussions going on in the museums about the various objects, for example, in Pitt Rivers, and you know, whether or not they should be returned. And I think that that’s a really healthy debate. And you know, when it comes to actual studying, I like the fact that in our library, for example, there are great sections of books now about the injustices. I think it’s important that people look at our history. History is not static. Yesterday was history. And so I think it’s right that we keep reevaluating our history, not changing our history. History is history, but we’ve got to keep reevaluating it and learning from it.

Cherwell: Going back to the Chancellor elections, it’s quite a unique election campaign in the sense that it’s a bizarre election platform where you have no opportunity to engage with your opponents, or formally present your policies. How are you running it, and how are you approaching the lead up to the election?

Royall: I’ve got a website. I’ve got some social media.

I’m doing much more on LinkedIn than I’ve ever done in my life before. I’ve always done a bit of X, and I kind of wish I wasn’t, because I can’t bear Elon Musk, but hey, it’s a tool for the moment. So I was getting to the point where I was thinking, I’m not going to use X anymore, but then I decided that for this campaign, it could be quite useful.

So I’m using social media and just talking to people. I know that many of the people to whom I speak to, certainly in Oxford, are quietly supportive, but understandably they don’t want to take a public position, and that’s fine. In terms of getting wider alumni to support me, I guess one of the best ways is to talk with people who you know support you, and then ask them to talk to other people to have a trickle down effect. But with an electorate of, I don’t know it’s supposed to be, like 29,000 plus alumni, that’s a hell of a lot of people to get to. I think name recognition is important. William Hague and Peter Mandelson have been interviewed on the Westminster programme on a Sunday night on Radio Four, and they’ve had no one else, so I’m going to try and get on there.

Cherwell: I’ve just got one final question, in comparison to these other candidates running for the chancellor position, why are you better than those candidates?

Royall: I’m better because I know Oxford and its people.

I think that one of the roles of the Chancellor is to be an advocate. I think I’ve got a record of being able to listen and to achieve consensus, not always sort of very visible consensus, but consensus behind the scenes. I’ve done that in various jobs, including as leader of the House of Lords, and so I think that I’d be very good at that. I think that I can do a splendid job.

However, having said that, there are some great candidates, and I think that the future of Oxford is secure under Irene Tracy and the people working in this great institution, and I’m sure that whoever is elected as chancellor, they will be very privileged, and they will do a fabulous job. But I’d be the best.

2024 Nobel Laureate Simon Johnson reflects on his Oxford experience

Sureen Heer
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2024 Nobel Laureate Simon Johnson reflects on his Oxford experience

This year’s Nobel Prize in Economics has been awarded to Oxford alumnus Simon Johnson and his colleagues Daron Acemoğlu and James A. Robinson. Their research aims to answer the age-old question: Why do some nations flourish while others remain trapped in poverty? Their pioneering work reveals that the answer lies in institutions – both political and economic – and how they shape the prosperity of nations.

Simon Johnson studied History and Economics and later PPE as an undergraduate at Corpus Christi College from 1981 to 1984. Currently a professor at MIT, he has long focused on the role of institutions in shaping economies as he worked at Harvard, Duke and MIT. Johnson also served as the chief economist at the International Monetary Fund from 2007 to 2008. 

Johnson and his colleagues arrived at their award-winning conclusions by studying historical data, particularly focusing on settler mortality rates during European colonisation. They found that regions where settlers faced high mortality rates often developed extractive institutions – designed to exploit resources for the benefit of a few. These institutions continue to contribute to modern-day poverty and inequality. In contrast, regions where settler mortality was low saw the establishment of more inclusive institutions, which fostered long-term economic growth by encouraging investment, political participation, and the rule of law. Their research revealed a “reversal of fortune”, where less developed regions with  more inclusive institutions were better positioned during the Industrial Revolution to leverage technological advancements, driving rapid economic growth.

Cherwell asked Johnson to reflect on his time here at Oxford and how it influenced his career.

Cherwell: How did your time at Oxford affect your career and the accomplishment of this achievement? 

Johnson: In three years at Oxford, I learned to think and to argue. I also learned to listen and to take on board the perspective of others. I attended every lecture that seemed at all interesting, undergraduate and graduate level. I went to any seminar that I could fit into my schedule. And then I studied hard at some very different places – I have a master’s from Manchester and a PhD from MIT, I did a post-doctoral fellowship at Harvard; and I worked for 6 years at a leading American business school (the Fuqua School at Duke University), where an important part of my job was to set up a management education centre in St. Petersburg, Russia, shortly after the collapse of the Soviet Union. I ran research projects based in Poland and Ukraine, attempting to understand post-communist realities. Then I joined the faculty at MIT Sloan, where I worked on the ground during the Asian Financial Crisis, trying to figure out how countries like Indonesia and South Korea could get back on their feet, and helped build a global entrepreneurship program.

To return to your question: Underpinning my entire career – research, publications, and a wide variety of policy roles – is what I learned at Oxford.

Cherwell: What was your student experience like – did you enjoy it?

Johnson: Oxford was incredible. I took a year off between school and university and had a wide variety of experiences (including five months as an army officer and supervising the kitchen shift at a fast food restaurant in Sheffield). I started Oxford with a clear understanding that, if I did well, my life opportunities would improve. Everyone I met in my first week at Oxford was smart and articulate. My first history essay was entirely mediocre (I started in History and Economics). To swim in this ocean, I realised that I needed to work hard. The returns to that effort were immediate and rather amazing.

Cherwell: Is there anything about Corpus specifically that you found particularly special?

Johnson: Corpus was (and I’m sure still is) a brilliant place. The people around me were clever and thoughtful. Almost all of them were better prepared than I was. It felt intensely competitive but in a good way. The tutors were tough but extraordinarily kind, and they gave me access to top minds across the university, including for one-on-one tutorials (I’ve supervised budgets at a wide variety of schools, and the economics of this still blow my mind). As an 18-year-old, I was thrown into the midst of intense ideas and arguments. If you did the work, you were always treated as plausible equal by much more knowledgeable people. There are not many places in the world where that is true. I still can’t believe how lucky I was to spend three formative years at Corpus.

Cherwell: What was your experience studying under Mr Andrew Glyn?

Johnson: Andrew Glyn was a gentle genius. He taught us neoclassical economics, but as a toolkit, not as a framework for understanding the world. He was a Marxist, but he did not try to convince us to adopt his views. He challenged us to think clearly, even if that involved challenging him. And when you showed him a spark (like a perhaps surprising distinction in prelims in History and Economics in early 1982), he backed you all the way. I switched to PPE at his recommendation, so I could take more economics papers and he arranged for me to be tutored by some of the best minds at the university. And then he pushed me out of the nest – told me that I had learned what I could at Oxford and I should go to America to get my PhD.

From Andrew I had learned to argue, to follow the logic, and to think about what other people were missing. I vividly recall that after one long wrangle about substance, Andrew said I was “bloody minded”. For a long time, I preferred to think of myself as tenacious. But thinking back now about my 30+ years at the intersection of research and public policy, working around the world, getting tenure at a leading business school, rising to the top of the IMF, advising presidential candidates, testifying to Congress (including when committees are controlled by people who really don’t like you views), briefing G7 central bank governors (who also don’t necessarily like where you are going with your arguments), perhaps Andrew knew exactly what I was – and what I could become. I’m very sad that he did not live to see this moment. I’m sure he would have pushed me, even now, to do more – and to do better.

Cherwell: What in particular do you think Oxford gives its students to be able to succeed in their chosen careers?

Johnson: I can only really speak to my experience – History and Economics for prelims, and then PPE (with as much Economics as possible, and never any Philosophy!). In those programs, at least as run at Corpus 1981-84 (although I’m confident this part is quite general and still true), it’s the intensity of the tutorial system, the feedback on your thinking, the pressure to be coherent, and answer the question on two very different topics every week. It’s not easy to stay organised, to get enough sleep, and to keep that focus for an entire term. But if you crack the code and figure out to do well at that pace, you can do anything.

Cherwell: What do you miss most about being a student here?

Johnson: There was a protected and safe feeling about learning at Oxford. The tutors really cared and paid close attention to pretty much everything you said and wrote. I’ve never had that kind of feedback from (even excellent) teachers elsewhere. But I have experienced the same intensity of thinking and of developing ideas in much of my professional work, including in the intensely collaborative research with Daron Acemoglu and Jim Robinson that won the Nobel prize. Oxford was, it turns out, the best preparation possible. But, exactly as Andrew Glyn made clear to me, after three years it was also good to leave, and not to look back.

Cherwell: How has winning the Nobel Prize affected your life? 

Johnson: Winning the Nobel prize in economics is an incredible honour and a much greater accomplishment than I expected from my career. My current focus is on building a research and policy group at MIT, focused on how to develop technology (particularly AI-based) that will help boost the productivity and pay – and therefore improve the lives – of workers who do not have a lot of formal education. This work is joint with Daron Acemoglu and David Autor (of MIT Economics), and I hope that winning the prize will enable us to make progress faster in a way that is more relevant for people around the world.

Cherwell: What in particular do you think people should know about your research? 

Johnson: We won the prize for work that began about 25 years ago, and the seminal papers (according to the Nobel prize committee) were published in 2001 and 2002. But we have continued to build on these contributions – including by incorporating the amazing work of others – with the goal of providing constructive ideas about how to better share prosperity in societies at all income levels. Today, the accelerated arrival of enhanced Artificial Intelligence capabilities provides the world with a choice: Will we develop technologies that enhance the productivity and improve the life chances of everyone, or will we slip into another phase of excessive automation, contributing to further job market and social polarisation?

Cornmarket KFC re-opens after mouse sighting

Ekam Hothi
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Cornmarket KFC re-opens after mouse sighting

The KFC on Cornmarket Street has reopened following a week-long closure prompted by a hygiene concern. The fast-food restaurant closed on 18th October with a notice in the windows that read: “Really sorry…we’re closed at the moment. But don’t worry – we’ll be back at the fryers as soon as we can.”

A KFC spokesperson told Cherwell: “a mouse had been spotted near the front counter and so, in line with our procedures, the team immediately closed and co-ordinated a full investigation with our health and safety specialists to ensure the restaurant meets our high standards.”

He added: “We have strict processes in place to ensure the quality and hygiene standards of all our restaurants.”

The Cornmarket Street location was awarded a Level 5 (very good) food hygiene rating by the FSA (Food Standards Agency), with the last inspection taking place in June.

The KFC webpage for the Cornmarket Street restaurant states: “The safety of our guests and our teams remains our top priority. You can be assured we’re closely following the latest guidance and have all the necessary safety measures in place, including protective screens and increased sanitising in our restaurants.”

The KFC at the Oxford M40 Welcome Break service station, a 20-minutes-drive from Oxford city centre, was closed in June earlier this year after a cockroach infestation was discovered in the food preparation area. During the pandemic, the KFC on Cowley Road was fined £1000 by the Oxford City Council for breaking COVID-19 restrictions.

Researches funded for treating Type 1 Diabetes with ticks

Raakhi Bhagdev
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Researches funded for treating Type 1 Diabetes with ticks

Oxford University has been given £2 million funding from the Type 1 Diabetes Grand Challenge to research whether proteins in tick saliva could be used to treat the disease. 

Oxford’s Cardiovascular Medicine Professor Shoumo Bhattacharya told Cherwell that Type 1 diabetes is caused by inflammation due to chemokines produced in pancreatic islets. Bhattacharya said: “We have been intrigued by the anti-chemokine properties of tick saliva’s Evasin proteins. Evasins evolved over 200 million years to allow the tick to bite and feed without being destroyed by the body’s defence mechanisms.”

Bhattacharya’s team identified small peptides from tick Evasins that block most chemokines, and evolved them further in the lab to improve them. He continued: “These peptides could be turned into drugs. By targeting these peptides to the islets we hope to be able to block islet inflammation. These targeted peptides could protect transplanted islets and beta cells and also protect the native islets in the early stages of Type 1 diabetes.”

Director of Research Partnerships at Breakthrough T1D Rachel Connor said: “by exploring the unique properties of tick saliva, this research could […] pave the way for a future without the burden of daily insulin.”

Affecting over 400,000 people in the UK, Type 1 Diabetes has no permanent cure. The current treatment for type 1 diabetes involves lifelong administration of insulin. Alternatively, patients can have beta cell therapies to replace the destroyed insulin-producing cells. However, the immune system also attacks transplanted cells, meaning patients must take immunosuppressant drugs which have severe side effects. If successful, the tick research could increase the efficacy of beta therapies and alleviate the need for immunosuppressants.

Director of Research at Diabetes UK Dr Elizabeth Robertson notes the “transformative potential” of this research and shares its potential to “revolutionise the way type 1 diabetes is treated and improve the lives of those affected by the condition”.

The funding is part of a wider initiative supported by the Steve Morgan Foundation, Diabetes UK, and Breakthrough T1D. Imperial College London, the University of Exeter, and the University of Cambridge have also received money to pursue this research. 

Heritage group calls for Welsh skeleton’s return from Natural History Museum

Charlie Roberts
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Heritage group calls for Welsh skeleton’s return from Natural History Museum

The heritage group Gower Unearthed has called for the return of the “Red Lady of Paviland” skeleton remains from the Oxford University Museum of Natural History (OUMNH). To raise publicity, the campaign’s director Helen Nicholas and her friend completed a 200-mile run with 20,000-feet elevation from the museum to Goat’s Hole Cave this week.

The Red Lady was discovered in Gower, South Wales, by Oxford’s geology professor William Buckland in 1823. The remains were then transferred back to Oxford, along with other archaeological finds, where they have remained for the past two centuries.

The Red Lady gains its name from the red ochre colouring on the bones. Originally believed to be the remains of a Roman woman, it is now understood to be the skeleton of a young male hunter who lived around 35,000 years ago during the Upper Palaeolithic period. The site of discovery is considered to be the oldest ceremonial burial found in Britain, with the skeleton being buried with stone tools, burned animal remains, and carved ivory. 

Nicholas wrote on social media of the run: “We will pass some extraordinary landscape and will be seeking out some pretty amazing prehistory. We are running to shine a spotlight on the conversation around The Red Lady of Paviland as part of the Red Lady Futures campaign.

While Gower Unearthed have made their desire for the Red Lady’s return clear online, a spokesperson for the OUMNH said the museum has not been contacted directly by the group. They told Cherwell they follow “clear guidelines on human remains which include procedures for legitimate claims for the return of human remains to source communities.”

Calls for repatriation follow the recent return of other human remains from the OUMNH. Along with the Pitt Rivers Museum, the remains of eleven Aboriginal people were returned in 2023 as part of a larger project of repatriation between the UK and Australia.

First five co-educational colleges celebrate 50 years of women

Liya Sebhatu
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First five co-educational colleges celebrate 50 years of women

Five colleges at Oxford University – Wadham, Jesus, Hertford, St Catherine’s, and Brasenose – are celebrating the 50th anniversary of their admittance of female students and becoming the first co-educational colleges. Events are organised throughout the year to celebrate this milestone.

Hertford College plans to release a video series, Hertford Voices, to commemorate both the 50th anniversary of women’s admittance and the 150th anniversary of Hertford’s re-foundation. St Catherine’s College and Brasenose College have also scheduled talks or lecture series from their alumni. Jesus College held an alumni gala night to start their festivities, and Wadham College’s celebrations commenced with panel discussions by alumni from the early years of female admission.

The move to co-educational learning started in 1968 when Wadham’s JCR passed a resolution in favour of it. This eventually became a larger movement, involving the creation of a subcommittee to investigate accepting women. In 1974, the five colleges decided to open their doors to both genders. Previously, womens’ only colleges such as Lady Margaret’s Hall and Somerville College have been educating women since 1879, and St Hilda’s became the last women’s only college to accept men in 2008.

A Hertford College spokesperson told Cherwell: “Hertford is incredibly proud to have been among the first colleges to admit women – a testament to our progressive, inclusive, and academically excellent community.”

The first video of Hertford Voices features stories from Hertford’s first cohort of women. Hertford told Cherwell: “Cathy Shingler recalls the attention [the women] attracted, which sometimes bordered on harassment, though they didn’t use that term at the time. Another memorable story is from 1976 when the first Hertford women’s rowing team competed in Summer Eights. Though they didn’t win, the team symbolised women’s growing integration into college life.”

In a video released by Hertford, these trailblazers also recalled the college’s infrastructure challenges in accommodating women, including outdated facilities and long walks to showers and toilets.

This sentiment could be seen during the Five @ Fifty panel, where women of the first co-educational colleges spoke about their experiences. Francine Stock of Jesus’s third cohort said that the loss of the male rugby team was partially blamed on female students: “A little note was put under all our doors suggesting that women might not want to go down to the bar that evening.”

A Wadham spokesperson told Cherwell: “Wadham has a progressive history and remains true to its values of inclusion and diversity today. The College is proud to be among the first tranche of former men’s Oxford colleges to admit women, and of being the first college to be founded by a woman who was not a queen or an aristocrat.”

Wadham’s Diversity Project in 2016 led to the inclusion of portraits of women in Hall and around the College site; previously only men’s portraits hung in the Dining Hall with the exception of Dorothy Wadham. Other celebratory events included a panel discussion on issues of gender and power within the University.

Dame Sally Mapstone of Wadham’s second-year cohort, now an Honorary Fellow of the college, discussed the imbalance of female and male academic staff at Oxford. She said: “It would be a very big mistake to think that it is a level playing field. When you start to look at issues of intersectionality, the imbalances are still really severe.”

Although there are more female than male undergraduate students as of 2023, women made up only 22% of all Statutory Professors, and 33% of Associate Professors.

What’s your purpose? (In six words or less)

Amy Seal
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What’s your purpose? (In six words or less)

Describe yourself in 6 words or less. Find your passion. Find your purpose. Have you been thinking about your goals? What is the world issue you most want resolved? What are your hopes and dreams? Can they be succinctly described in 6 words or less? Can they be summed up on a Linkedin post? Can your passion become your career? Can you monetise this? Can we monetise this? Can you make us money?

Vacations for Oxford students more often than not mean dedicating a significant proportion of your time to an internship. Bleary eyed and exhausted by the term-time workload, we make space in our schedules to write endless cover letters, touch up our CVs, and find tutors who like us just enough to write the perfect reference. We send off our applications and, in short, beg for companies to allow us the privilege of being an entirely insignificant part of their workforce for a limited period of time. Alongside the internship itself will often come endless mandatory careers sessions and talks – motivational speakers with this or that book to promote, who stand up in front of us naive youngsters and promise the much-sought-after key to finding our place in the ever-elusive and seemingly impossible to break-into workforce.

This is an article, more or less, about these careers talks themselves; God knows I sat through enough of them this summer. For the lucky reader who has yet to experience this mind-numbing phenomenon, allow me to introduce it to you. The speaker begins by asking us if we know what our purpose is. Usually, internally answered by each member of the crowd who begins to panic, something along the lines of: “I didn’t know I was supposed to have a purpose. What is that? How do I find it? I wonder if everyone else knows their purpose and I’m already super behind?”. The speaker will then, graciously, offer to help us out. That’s right – by listening to one simple presentation, we will understand the very meaning of our lives, and how we can fit into this world! 

But here’s the catch. This is not a philosophical exploration, nor a valuable exercise in introspection, nor a spiritual awakening designed to find inner peace. No, this is watered-down psycho-babble mobilised along neoliberal lines. To help us discover our purpose, the presenter will ask us what we dream of. So what do I dream of, I think. I dream of a pretty house, with lots of natural light. A place where the one I love is just down the corridor. A house that is never quiet – that is brimming with the clattering of our many pets, and perhaps a few kids. A house that smells of the bread I will make fresh every week, and always has a supply of baked goods on the kitchen counters. My friends would come round often and their laughter would fill our halls. My parents and sister would be just a short drive away, and we’d meet often for Sunday lunch. I dream of a home. A place where I will feel calm, loved, at peace.

Oh, sorry, is this not marketable enough? Ok, then I dream of surfing in the icy Devon sea and feeling that rush of energy when you finally catch a wave. I dream of creating beautiful music, and even not so beautiful music, with my instruments or even my voice. I dream of writing; on my laptop, in a notebook, anywhere I can, I dream of entire days I could spend watching my ideas materialise on the page. I dream of a world and a life without pain, where there is no suffering, for anyone, anywhere. I dream of justice. I dream of dancing, painting, acting, running, singing, screaming, laughing. I dream of joy, pain, beauty, exhilaration, and peace. 

Oh, still not what you were looking for? Ok, a word I would use to describe myself is, Amy. I think of all the Amy’s I have been, all the Amy’s I have yet to be. All the Amy’s I am to the different people in my life, all the Amy’s I wish I was, and even the ones I wish I wasn’t. I think of how every year, month, day, hour, and even second I am becoming an entirely different person to who I was, but I am also, somehow, still the same me I have always been. I think about how none of this can be described in 6 words or less.

Neoliberalism feeds on hyper-individualism. As the government increasingly de-regulates the market and privatises public services, it becomes the individual’s responsibility to ensure their own security within this new world. Only the fittest survive – and to do so, you must only think about yourself. Yet, ironically, none of this serves you. You are told that through your hard work, your effort, your sacrifices, you will succeed. But at the end of the day, there is a reason only a few CEOs are household names. And in your tireless efforts to become the 1%, you instead become the product. When you put on your clothes in the morning to fit into this- or that- TikTok “aesthetic”, when you eat the breakfast cereal you’ve had for years because it came up on a TV advert when you were 5, when you visit the gym to conform to the “standard” of attractiveness propped up by multiple billion-dollar industries, when you go on social media and your data is farmed to advertisers, and finally, when you sit in a presentation and your inner most dreams and desires are hauled out of you – everything about you is bought, sold, and profited on. You are the product. 

So go on, look inside yourself. Find something within you. Oh but don’t look too hard, no don’t really consider yourself, your place in this world, and what you actually want out of this life. No. Find something marketable. Find something you could say in a job interview. Find a job. Find something your boss will enjoy. Find something we can incorporate into our company’s message. Find something we can profit off of. Find something that makes us look good. Find your place within this system, within this order. Become a cog in our machine. Survive on our terms. Make us money. Succeed.*

*This definition of success is rather rigid. 

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