Two new papers, the BioMedical Sciences Aptitude Test (BMSAT) and the Ancient History and Classical Archaeology Aptitude Test (AHCAAT) have been announced by the University of Oxford for the 2025 admissions cycle, set to take place next month.
For Biomedical sciences applicants, the BMSAT will replace the BioMedical Aptitude Test (BMAT) after exam provider Cambridge Assessment announced it would be discontinued earlier this year. The new test will broadly assess applicants’ scientific knowledge, consisting of 80 multiple choice questions, across biology, physics, chemistry, and mathematics at UK GCSE level. In comparison, the multiple choice section of the BMAT contained 27 questions and spanned content studied during the first year of A-levels as well as GCSEs. Further, unlike the BMAT, the BMSAT will not contain any “thinking skills” or “writing task” sections.
One current second year Biomedical sciences student expressed concern over the removal of the “thinking skills” section: “you could have had a really deserving applicant who just simply hadn’t had the opportunity to be taught some content, but then the critical thinking section gave them an opportunity to demonstrate their skills.” These concerns are heightened by the disparity in the quality of GCSE teaching offered during the Covid-19 school closures. A 2023 study by the social mobility charity Sutton Trust found that 76% of surveyed year 11s believed that their academic progress had suffered due to Covid-19.
Medicine applicants, who previously also would have been required to take the BMAT, will now sit the University Clinical Aptitude Test (UCAT), a standard across nearly all UK medical schools.
The AHCAAT will be taken by applicants for Classical Archaeology and Ancient History (CAAH), who were previously not required to take any admissions tests for the subject. This two-part, essay based assessment will ask candidates to critique the evidence and argumentative rigour offered in an academic passage, before exploring the historical value of a given artefact from the ancient world.
One current second year CAAH student explained that whilst she had appreciated the relief of not sitting an exam during her own application process, she recognised that the format of the AHCAAT compliments well the nature of the course: “it is structured in the form of a ‘gobbet’ and a ‘picture question’, both of which form key parts of the later interview as well as our prelims and finals. They can be quite fun to answer as no previous knowledge is technically needed so you can be quite creative.”
The University told Cherwell that the AHCAAT has been put in place, “according to the usual approval process which includes SU representation”. Additionally, the new exam will undergo a two-year trial period, during which applicants will not be denied an interview or an offer to study based on their performance, but their results may positively inform the outcome of their application.
Like so many, my first year at Oxford was spent trying to conquer imposter syndrome. Despite getting through the interview process unscathed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t what Oxford actually wanted.While passion is imperative, there are few things that this university loves more than confidence.
When the options open to us are either to give in to crippling self doubt, or buy into Oxford’s glossy cult of confidence, it comes as little surprise that the term that flies around Oxbridge students is a far less admirable one: entitlement. Though the average Oxonian might be afraid to admit it, we are constantly told that we are special and that we are, in fact, ‘worthy’.
Think back to matriculation day. Newly gowned in sub fusc, after being chanted at in Latin, you are free to run around the city, champagne bottle in hand, feeling as if you own the place. That is only the beginning—next comes the long list of formals and weird Oxford traditions, intimate tutorials and post-exam trashing. Rightly or wrongly, you undoubtedly feel special. The city of Oxford itself falls away, your world becomes a complete bubble.
For people like myself, living in a world so different from home, the ‘Oxford bubble’ is only too real. I entered into spaces I had never entered before and was told by the university that I deserved to be there. It cannot be avoided that confidence, especially in such spaces, is social currency. It is a valuable commodity within an institutional culture obsessed with achievement and success — a place where LinkedIns are exchanged across the table at formal halls. Egoism goes hand in hand with such a culture.
Looking back at my fresher self, though I am embarrassed by her actions, I can’t help but feel a sense of pity. Unconsciously, I began to morph into this world. My already English accent began to take on a posher edge; and I would return home to Wales and feel like a sellout. Instead of dealing directly with it, I buried my imposter syndrome by conforming to what I thought was the Oxford mould.
So no, you do not have to be an entitled narcissist to apply to Oxford, far from it. Yet, in an institution that has rewarded and cultivated such self-assurance for hundreds of years, it is all too easy to slip into arrogance. The ‘Oxford bubble’ is real, people get trapped within it, and some never manage to escape. Although it may appear to be the perfect system, where all your success comes directly from yourself, Oxford is complicated by layers of unspoken privileges. It’s a culture severed from normalcy, the same old machine that historically upheld the egoism of upper classes. It’s a place where spending six figures on a college celebration seems reasonable in the name of tradition; a tradition that links such extravagance with ‘intelligence’. Oxford, like it or not, is a place that breeds entitlement.
The truth is, I am still not quite sure what it means to be ‘worthy’ of this place. I can be proud of my achievements, confident within myself and academics, while recognising that it is important to step back and actually consider why we are made to feel so special.
Last weekend, a friend and I went for a coffee and a catch up on a Saturday in a packed café. We ordered our drinks, only to realise moments later that the café was completely full and every single seat was occupied. We predictably began to complain about the number of people sitting and working on their laptops (something I am definitely guilty of doing) and from there arose the question – under what conditions is it socially acceptable to work in a café?
This conversation spiralled into a full analysis of general café etiquette. I argued that if you buy a drink, you should be allowed to stay as long as you like provided there are still tables available. My friend, however, was sure that you should be allowed to stay as long as you like (even if there are no other seats free) but only if you continue to buy drinks.
This kind of “first world” problem is particularly common in Oxford, where all the cafés are constantly packed full of students hard at work. Except, one proper glance around a busy café reveals that at least half the people inside are actually just browsing Instagram, reading the latest Oxfess posts, or, a personal favourite of mine, playing GeoGuessr.
So, having spent a ridiculous amount of time working(ish) in Oxford cafés, these are some of the top tips and tricks I have learnt about attempting to navigate Oxford café culture:
1. Arrive early! This is much easier said than done and definitely isn’t a tip that I regularly implement. However, this is pretty much the only way to guarantee a good seat which you are more or less doomed without. A lot of cafés also enforce no laptop policies at lunch time, which means that arriving early is definitely worthwhile if you want to do more than an hour’s work.
2. Sit near a plug. I have made the mistake of sitting miles from a plug and having to very quickly migrate to the nearest library far too many times- which is particularly painful after paying at least £3.60 for an overpriced oat latte. This tip is especially relevant if your laptop is anything like mine and dies after approximately 30 minutes of work.
3. If you don’t think that tip number 1 is at all realistic, your best bet is to head out of the centre. There are actually plenty of really nice cafés outside the centre of town that are generally much quieter, and as an added bonus tend to be much cheaper!! This is also a nice opportunity to get to know some different parts of the city that you wouldn’t usually come across.
4. Bring a reusable cup. Loads of cafés around Oxford tend to have a discount if you bring a reusable cup, and if it’s a KeepCup you can even get a coffee to take into the libraries. Obviously this is more eco friendly but also any savings on coffee are surely a major bonus now that Pret have cancelled their subscription…
5. Try to avoid weekends – especially if you are in the centre of Oxford. Not only does this mean the cafés are all going to be busy and loud, but the owners probably aren’t going to be particularly happy if you’ve been there three hours and there isn’t space for any of their other customers to sit down..
6. Bring headphones. I feel like this really doesn’t need too much explanation, but they are definitely useful to have!
If you are new to Oxford this year, I hope these tips give you a bit of a head start in finding the perfect study spot. However, the best piece of advice I can give, and something that I am still learning myself, is that if you actually have any work to do you are probably better off bypassing the café study session and just heading straight to a real library.
In 2023, Oxford University’s 43 colleges boasted a total endowment of £6.4 billion. This figure is nearly four times as much as that of Oxford University itself and well over ten times larger than the endowment of all other UK universities, excluding the University of Cambridge. The sheer magnitude of Oxford’s collegiate wealth is no secret; yet the ways in which colleges use their extensive resources remain far less transparent.
While all colleges do put aside millions of pounds for student care, this is often only a fraction of their wealth (figure one). In investigating the financial patterns of 15 of Oxford’s richest and poorest colleges, Cherwell found that the vast majority of colleges’ endowments are far more inaccessible and inflexible than we might think.
Figure one
College Disparities
An eighth of the wealth of all Oxford colleges is held by St John’s College alone, bringing its current value to £790 million, well over 20 times the size of some of Oxford’s least wealthy colleges. This inconsistency is a familiar issue to all Oxford students; college disparities have long been a discussion of national debate, student union campaigns, and Cherwell reports.
Yet it is perhaps surprising that these gaping disparities in resources have a relatively low direct financial impact on students. Indeed, a college’s endowment does not predict spending on students. Colleges spend enough money to cover student-related costs: staff wages, subsidising the tutorial system, rent and accommodation, and more. But once they have spent enough to allow their collegiate functions, they are left with large sums of money students never see.
Each Oxford college’s spending on their charitable aims, namely education, varies little. Apart from All Soul’s College, whose ten students naturally generate a very high per capita expenditure, in 2023 St John’s College spent the most per student at £51,000. This contrasts the lowest expense of £13,300 per capita at St Edmund Hall.
Yet the majority of colleges do spend roughly the same amount (graph one). The median amount spent on students in 2023 sits at £19,500, the expenditure of University College. Therefore student spending between wealthier and poorer colleges remains largely the same and nearly all colleges cap student expenditure at roughly the same point.
While some of the richer colleges, such as Christ Church College and St John’s College, do allocate larger amounts of funds for their students than others – both spent around £34 million in 2023 – this is still not proportional to their endowment. This £34 million expenditure, for example, only accounts for approximately 4% of the total endowment held by these colleges.
Indeed, most of the time student expenditure is only a small chunk of a college’s wealth (figure one) and on average over the last five years, the amount colleges have spent on their students has been 6% of their overall endowment.
Furthermore in 2023, The Queen’s College spent £22,800 per student, only 1.5 times more than the £16,000 spent per student by Hertford College, despite the fact that The Queen’s College endowment is five times larger.
These figures suggest that a college’s endowment is not proportional to how much money students actually receive. In fact, when colleges only spend small fractions of their funds on students, the vast majority of their endowment wealth has little interaction with their students at all.
Graph one
Inflexible endowments
The fact that Oxford colleges spend only small fractions of their endowments on their students is not in itself a negative thing. However, analysing the expenditure patterns of 15 colleges over the last five years exposes some problems. Since 2019, there have been two significant times of need – the COVID-19 pandemic of early 2020 and the cost of living crisis of late 2021. During both crises, students were under more financial and academic stress and thus, in need of more economic support. Yet in 2020, the average amount colleges spent on their students fell.
When asked if St Anne’s College felt times of crisis should mean increasing expenditure on students, Treasurer and Finance Director, John Ford, agreed telling Cherwell: “Yes. And we saw that during COVID.” Yet in 2020, St Anne’s College decreased student expenditure from £11.5 million in 2019 to £9.6 million in 2020.
Moreover, Iris Burke, Bursary Manager at St John’s College told Cherwell that during the pandemic the College “minimised increases to student rents and charges and absorbed much of the inflationary pressures” in order to financially support their students at the time. However, students told Cherwell they were “charged the full rent amount each term, despite limited access to [shared] facilities.” Students further described a time “when we were told on more than one occasion, bluntly, that the college would not be considering any rent reduction.”
While St John’s College provided additional funding “in the form of higher academic grants”, students overall expressed how they felt “as though the College was apathetic towards our concerns, with more effort placed in ensuring it maintained the income it would otherwise have collected from the student body wherever possible.”
Increasing investment
Not only did colleges not increase their spending on students during times of economic difficulty, such as the pandemic and cost of living crisis, but they also chose to increase the amount of money they put into investments. In addition to decreasing student expenditure, for example, St Anne’s College put an additional £1.7 million of new money into their ‘other investments’ in 2020.
As a whole, since 2019 the average net amount of money put into ‘other investments’ by 15 colleges according to their last five Charity Commission annual reports has increased (graph two). A college’s ‘other investments’ refers to investments that are usually part of their endowment. Colleges also invest in ‘property investments’ and ‘parent and subsidiary undertakings’, yet these might not always form a part of their endowment.
Although money put into ‘other investments’ plateaued between 2020 and 2021, it was still an increase from the previous financial year of 2019 and it went on to rise again after. These investment behaviours and patterns of colleges are not reflective of the times when students needed more financial support and help.
Graph two
Why colleges can’t spend more
Investment is an integral way that Oxford colleges use their endowment to generate a return that can be used to fund their charitable objectives, namely education, in the long term. But this focus on future maintenance and growth must be balanced with the immediate funding and care given to colleges and their current students. Ford explained the importance of achieving this balance to Cherwell, saying “we cannot put all our income into investments, there would be nothing to fund current expenditure, similarly some funding needs may be short term and funded through current income.”
However, this balance seems to have become skewed with investment being prioritised over students and most of the endowment being inaccessible to students. The large sums of money left unspent in endowments are an unavoidable consequence of the system as a whole. Contrary to how it may seem, endowments are not accessible pots of money that colleges can hand out to their students.
As charities with permanent endowments, colleges are obligated by Charity Commission regulation to “keep rather than spend” this endowment. This helps to maintain colleges in the long-term, allowing them to ensure care for future students; it is by no means an inherently flawed policy.
However, colleges have increasingly adopted protective financial policies that, for better or worse, place the possible needs of future students above the real needs of current ones. The handling of endowments does not prioritise student cost, and in many ways is entirely unrelated to and detached from current student life.
The conservative financial approach also establishes an inevitable level of inflexibility. Colleges adhere to different investment policies to help them maintain and grow their endowment. University College, for example, chooses a policy whereby they withdraw 3.5% of the average real value of their endowment over the last three years. This proportion does, and did not, change, regardless of the performance of their investments or current student needs.
While they aim to strike a balance between spending for the students of the present and the students of the years to come, colleges favour funding the future as a result of inflexible investment policies. Their increasing prioritisation of investments to accumulate and preserve their endowments is more reminiscent of businesses with colleges attached rather than institutions of learning. Although this allows colleges and the University of Oxford as a whole to prosper and survive, it neglects those currently within its walls.
Transparency
It is also important to mention the lack of transparency surrounding college endowments. Although all colleges submit financial reports to the UK government’s Charity Commission, these often remain vague, especially for those without accounting literacy. Furthermore, they often explain large sums of money with ambiguous terms. In their 2023 annual finance report, for example, Magdalen College lists £6.5 million of its ‘Property Investments’ under the vague umbrella label “other”.
Even at a more direct level, college expenditure is not made clear or properly communicated. A JCR Treasurer told Cherwell: “The College is transparent to the extent required by law, but they fail to take a proactive approach to ensure students are aware of its expenditure…This means that the formal transparency does not necessarily translate into effective scrutiny by its members.”
Where does the money go?
The endowment is seen as an Oxford college’s greatest asset: a vast amount of money they can use to achieve their charitable aims and serve their students. Yet in reality, their inaccessibility and inflexibility means they are, by nature, almost entirely detached from student life. The constant focus on the future means these endowments are never truly used to their fullest capability. Student expenditure is confined to only a fraction of a college’s overall wealth and colleges are rendered unable to freely respond to external issues, such as financial crises. Endowments are paralysed and inaccessible funds, both for future students as well as past.
St Anne’s College said in response: “The Covid outbreak occurred in March 2020 affecting four months of college activity. We had very few students in college accommodation, very little on site activity, very low utility bills and, perhaps coincidentally in those numbers, a £924k reduction in our pension provision. Income also fell by around £1.9M The £1.7M related to cash already set aside to repay capital on a loan and was quite separate. The loan was taken out to improve student accommodation. Student accommodation is subsidised and rents alone will not be sufficient to repay the capital, we therefore set up a sinking fund to help repay it. During Covid both the colleges and university dramatically stepped up their hardship support for students. This continued for several years after 2020.
“I think it is important to emphasise that spending on expenditure today, and investing today for expenditure tomorrow are essentially the same thing. Any investments we make are to create income for future student and teaching support. We are an educational charity not a fund management operation. Our endowment and investments are also some of the lowest amongst Oxford colleges.”
Christ Church College said in response: “Christ Church relies as to 54% of its income on the annual ‘take’ from the endowment. This is calculated as 3.25% of the 5-year historic average value of the endowment. We believe that this spending rule represents an appropriate forecast of the excess endowment return over inflation which we can expect over the medium term, so that we will maintain the purchasing power of the endowment. This will support our ability to maintain the wide range of activities which Christ Church undertakes including of course significant support for its students.”
St John’s College said in response:“The College’s endowment is used for both revenue and investments in capital projects in order to improve facilities and enhance the student experience. We have a significant capital programme underway to provide more graduate accommodation and to refurbish existing accommodation for undergraduates and postgraduates. In recent years returns of the endowment were used to fund the new Study Centre and refurbish the existing Library, which students derive direct benefit from.
“The College only charged rent to those students that remained in College during the Covid lockdowns. We also provided grants to those students that needed support with accommodation and food costs if they were in residence at the time.”
Last saturday was the college ball. And oh my God.
It is a funny thing to become a statistic. It all seems so binary before it happens to you. Are you the zero, or the one? Two distinct states of being, two entirely opposite sides. The “me” and the “not-me”. But what is unclear, is the wide expanse between – the grey area. The rose-tinted glasses, the nights spent crying over “nothing at all”, the times you felt like you never left that room where it happened. For those of you who find yourselves consumed by the “grey” – whether you perceive it to be an off-white or a charcoal grey, know that you are not alone.
They encourage me to text him, which I wasn’t going to do as he ignored me in Atik and Bridge in 7th + 8th weeks, and made out with another girl infront of me in 8th week Bridge. But still, I don’t think I was completely done with him as I wouldn’t have done it. So I call him, and he texts me, and I invite him over and he actually comes.
It is also a strange thing to be so vulnerable in front of an audience of strangers. To tell you all a story that has previously just been known, in this detail, between me and him (and a few close friends, naturally). It feels strange to let you into my first year bedroom, to show you all this scene of the both of us on that single bed, a scene I now know by heart. It makes me feel vulnerable. My favourite teacher, Miss Oxlade, used to teach me Drama. She always said she could never imagine singing in front of a crowd – acting is different, you are playing someone else entirely, but singing is you. I used to like drama a lot, I never minded the crowd. In a lot of ways I feel more comfortable like that. Under the bright theatre lights where you can barely see the audience but you know they are there. It is nice to feel listened to. It is nice to have some distance.
I take Xto my room + we lie on my bed and cuddle and talk. I’m still in my dress and so drunk which he knows cuz I keep telling him he has 4 eyes and the first thing he said to me was “how drunk are you right now?”
… Anyways, we are in my room, talking. I learn his actual name,Xis just a nickname. He sprained his wrist in a boat crash and he has 6 meals a day (I keep trying to feed him breadsticks). He’s in my room from 2am-5am…
Whenever I play this scene back, which I often do, there are three of us in the room. It feels a lot like acting and less like singing, because that girl is not me. In the room, is him, the girl in the green dress, and there is me, the observer. I think about how lovely she looked that night. I envy her sweetness; the way she tried to feed him, to understand him, to show kindness in a way I haven’t quite been able to manage to since. But most of all I pity her, because no matter how many times I replay the scene I cannot save her. I still wear her pretty green dress though. After all, it wasn’t the dress’s fault.
We start making out (I initiate). He keeps asking if I’m ok with it. Then he takes off his shirt and asks again “are you ok with it?” and I’m confused + literally think “Oh I guess we are having sex now” which I did want. But maybe not then. I only initiated cuz he seemed like he was going to leave and I didn’t want him to. I never took off my dress – I think I was insecure about my body.
This is probably the time to say if you are a family member or a future employer – I would prefer it if you clicked off. I want to be able to tell this story, I want to get the words out and as far away from me as possible, and I can’t do that if I feel certain people are reading this. It will be easier for me if my audience is hordes of faceless strangers. Once, I sang a solo in school, in front of a crowd of my friends, in a room with too many windows. It was too bright, it was awkward, and it has been burned into some deep recess of my memory. All I ask is that you are a courteous reader and you don’t make me feel 8 years old again, singing “Hallelujah”.
After, he cleaned himself up and then almost looked like he wasn’t going to lie down again. But he did. He also gave me a hickey at one point which now means I am reminded of this bullshit whenever I look at myself. My mum only just noticed it today. She asked “what have you done to your neck?”. I don’t know if she knows what it is or not – probably does. I replied “I don’t know”. But I do. I know what happened and why I did it; that doesn’t make it any better that it happened.
I watched Bridget Jones’ Diary for the first time a few days ago – a super weird way to start this paragraph I know. But I felt so seen by the way that she felt noticed by someone for like 5 seconds and immediately imagined their entire future together. Not to say that I really saw a future with the boy I have been describing, but for a short time before this night he was undeniably important to me. He made me feel noticed, seen, desirable – in a way I hadn’t felt before. I suppose that’s part of why I thought for a long time that it was my fault, because he meant so much to me, because he came when I called. But this still does not excuse his behaviour – my crush did not force him to take advantage of me, my little obsession did not cause him to forget his decency.
After, he got changed and asked if he was the only guy I’d got with this term. I said something like “why are you asking?”. He tells me we aren’t going to become a “thing” as in a serious thing and that I shouldn’t text him sober. If I drunk texted him, I asked, would he reply? He said “I might” with a smile. So if I want to be used for my body I know who to call.
When he said to not sober text him I said “why would I do that?” because I never have, and I never will and HE IS THE ONE that came over sober when I was so drunk and took advantage of me in every possible way. But he did ask and I did say yes so maybe I’m so repulsed by him to hide how repulsed I am in myself that I agreed, that I even called him, that I decided, somehow, at some point, that it would be better to be disrespected and used than to be alone.
I hope for anyone that reads this and sees themselves in my words that you come to a resolution. I hope the endless ways you make it your fault fade away. I hope you see that your story does not have to be air tight – you are not in a court of law, you do not have to cross examine yourself. In truth, it doesn’t matter what you did. If you are in the grey area, then something has happened to you that you know is not what you wanted. That someone has hurt you, properly hurt you – and I hope you see that hurting yourself with these sharp words will not make it better.
That’s not to say it doesn’t take time to realise this, and you have to realise it for yourself. No matter how you choose to deal with it – spending an entire term in your bedroom because that’s where it feels safest, closing yourself off from anything difficult, and listening to the same songs on repeat, being irredeemably and uncontrollably angry that this happened. If that makes you feel better for a time then that is what must be done. But I hope you will see, eventually, that this fixation will not get you anywhere. That when you spend too much time lying down your joints seize up. That when you stop seeing your friends it makes you more miserable than before. That you have to live your life for you.
And, with time, you can reconcile yourself with the person this happened to. You can become you. In time, I hope, you will come to be proud of yourself and the way you acted. You will learn to love that person you try so hard to pretend isn’t you. For me, I am proud of the way I tried to show him kindness, I am proud of the way I tried to humble him and ask why I would even think to call him sober. And, ultimately, I am proud of the way I froze up, because it was me trying to protect myself in that impossible situation, and so I am proud of myself for having my own back.
So this article, for me, is what I hope to be the final words in a chapter of my life I would like to move away from. It will always remain a part of my story, and it will certainly affect the way I behave from now on, but I cannot linger here forever. If there is one thing I have learnt from this whole experience it is that I deserve better.
And a final message to you. You who has read this and thought this sounds oddly similar to a strange night you had in Hilary of your first year. Yes, you. You cannot imagine how many times I have thought over what I would say to you directly, if I could. But really it all boils down to this. I was drunk out of my mind and you were completely sober. I wasn’t, however, drunk enough to forget. While I know you have only ever met me drunk and ditsy, you don’t know the other side.
Because I remember exactly what happened. And I am not afraid.
Hertford College Principal Professor Tom Fletcher announced he will be leaving his role for a new appointment as Undersecretary General for Humanitarian Relief and Emergency Relief Coordinator at the United Nations, leading the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA). His last day will be 18th November.
In an email to Hertford, Fletcher recalled how his experience at Hertford “changed his life” in the years he’s been “blessed to see Hertford from every angle”: as a student of Modern History, a night porter, a barman, a JCR president, a summer school guide, an alumnus, an honorary fellow, and the principal.
After graduation Fletcher served as a UK diplomat in Nairobi and Paris, the foreign policy and Northern Ireland advisor to Prime Ministers Tony Blair, Gordon Brown, and David Cameron, and the British Ambassador to Lebanon. Upon returning to Hertford as an honorary fellow, Fletcher was elected as the youngest ever principal in 2020.
He wrote: “On Monday, the UN Secretary General asked me to take [the OCHA role] on. Millions are in dire need of protection and support, including in regions I know and love. I hope you’ll understand why I must go.”
Through two stories, Fletcher emphasised his commitment to accessibility at Hertford during his tenure. A first-generation university student who got the highest mark in Oxford and is now on the frontline of tackling the climate crisis told him last week that “Hertford is base camp.” Another masters student from Syria who got funding from an alumni due to Fletcher’s efforts told him that Hertford is her “sliding door moment.”
Fletcher continued: “There is a student, born today, who will come to us in 2042. They will have had every reason not to make it. But, somehow, they will. And we will be ready for them. And they will change the world.”
During his tenure as Principal, Fletcher oversaw the establishment of the Asseily Scholarship for a student displaced by conflict, persecution, or deprivation, as well as the Sibusiso Scholarship for five African graduate students.
Fletcher was commended by the UN for possessing “strong experience of leading and transforming organisations” and “an understanding of diplomacy at the highest levels”, as well as previous colleague Gordon Brown for his “creativity and resilience”.
As Martin Griffith’s successor, Fletcher will be the sixth successive British head of OCHA. Prior to his selection, over 60 diplomats and humanitarians wrote an open letter to UN Secretary General António Guterres calling for equal consideration of nationals of all member states in deliberation for the role.
Oxford University clarified rules for student protests, encouraging them in an email to “make Oxford a welcoming and inclusive place” and to keep demonstrations “within the limits of the law.” Oxford Action for Palestine (OA4P) argues that some rules have changed to suppress protest.
The rules prohibit protesters from interruption of teaching, occupation of University property, disobeying a reasonable instruction from Proctors, or failing to identify oneself to any University staff. Breaching any provisions may incur punishments such as warnings, fines, or suspension.
The University also published a Code of Practice on Freedom of Speech, which supersedes the Code of Practice on Meetings and Events. Previously events required a seven-day notification period, which has now lengthened to 20 days. The new code added that an event may be refused permission if speakers can be reasonably believed to express views “contrary to law” or “highly controversial” – language not found in the older code.
A University spokesperson told Cherwell that the change in language is only for clarification, so policies “remain unchanged and will be enforced”.
The spokesperson said: “The University has set out existing policies that govern how demonstrations and protests within our community should be carried out. This will ensure any protest can be conducted safely and within University rules. When protesters have breached our statutes the Proctors have taken, and will take, disciplinary action.”
When the University put several Statute XI amendments to a Congregation vote in June, students circulated a brief that criticised the new rules as “illiberal, vague, and impractical” while academics submitted a resolution opposing the amendments. The University then withdrew the proposed amendments and are in the process of proposing new ones.
OA4P, which set up an encampment and organised months of protest last year, believes that some rules have changed with the new wording.
An OA4P spokesperson told Cherwell: “The University has now unilaterally implemented restrictions which were rejected by students, faculty, and staff – many of which are even stricter than those attempted in June. By ignoring community input, the Administration has failed its obligation to meaningfully engage with the University community and instead seeks to police student and staff freedoms of expression.
“Protest is a vital and historically effective way to enact change. It alarms us that the University would seek to suppress this central avenue for students to make themselves heard.”
The University’s email came amid further protest by Oxford Action For Palestine (OA4P) during the September Open Day, during which demonstrators held Palestinian flags during seminars for prospective students and demanded that the University “sever all ties with Israeli genocide”.
Meanwhile, the University has launched a new scheme for Palestinian students in support of “the advancement of learning and rebuilding of higher education in Gaza and the West Bank”. The Palestine Crisis Scholarship Scheme would see graduate students with an offer to study a one-year full time Master’s degree supported by a full scholarship, including a grant for living costs. The University has also extended access to the Bodleian libraries and University Press assets to scholars in the region.
We’ve all been there. The perfect opportunity for a night out, potentially foiled by the un-attempted essay due tomorrow at 4pm. An age-old Oxford conundrum.
I think there are three breeds of people at this University. The first – those who go out, have a blast, and wake up only to send an email asking for an extension. The second – the responsible, soon-to-be-running-a-magic-circle-firm-or-top-tier-consultancy student who stays in, throwing all plans out the window. Then, the third – the social butterfly slash academic weapon who will go out, enjoy their night, and will still get that essay done by 4pm. There is, admittedly, a fourth breed of student who just never gets in this situation, but that’s far less exciting.
The type-three-er is the paragon of Oxford studenthood. They occupy another dimension, whilst the rest of us walk among men. The question on my mind is: how? To edge us all along the trajectory of becoming student 3.0, I’ve done my research into what the perfectly seamless night out to essay crunch-time transition really is.
The suggestions, remedies and advice up for sale are their own kind of weird, and are usually not wonderful. They are all from students who, in moments, have caught a glimpse of the mountain top – a glimmer of the glory that the third breed of Oxford student typically basks in.
Student A, let’s call her, sets her alarm every two hours, and drinks half a bottle of water each time it goes off. An interrupted sleep in exchange for the vital subduing of a hangover. A pretty small price to pay, really.
Student B opts for instantaneous relief. A greasy, fried full English Breakfast; the greasier the better. Yet opting to soak up last night’s remnants in one fell swoop is often too good to be true. Though he’s able to get on the grind once the eggs and beans are down the hatch, B’s skin, stomach, and breath won’t be thanking him two hours later when the queasiness sets in.
Student C is a diehard green juice slash innocent-smoothie-er. Call it a placebo effect, say it’s psychological all you want, but once you’re halfway through the bottle, you’re already feeling lightbulbs turning on. Student C is incomplete without her best mate D, whose beverage of choice is caffeine, rather than anything natural. No food and three shots of espresso are bound to get you over any deadline you need to meet.
I wasn’t sure this was even a strategy, but according to Goop.com and Student E, bananas are pure gold for nausea and stomach aches. High in electrolyte potassium, they’re meant to subside the concoction of Hussein’s and alcohol sludging up your stomach from the night before.
The next revitaliser is probably the hardest to execute. Student F swears by the power of the mind, claiming that hangovers are an issue of ‘mind over matter’. A hangover is just a mentality – if you say you’re fine, you’re fine. Self-affirmations, manifestations and grit are Student F’s friends.
Along the same wavelength of rather brutal mental tactics, is Student G’s taste for bribery. Nothing good happens until that essay is done. This means, as soon as G is awake, they’re on the grind. In bed, pyjamas on, phone on silent, water only – they’re making things as unpleasant as possible until they can say their essay is done and dusted. G suffers no fools.
I’ve framed this article as a how-to guide, but on reflection, not one of these students really offers a flawless method for transitioning from play-hard to work-hard. These are more ‘bottoms-up bootcamp’ strategies for achieving what really should not be humanly possible. Perhaps I’m wrong and there is a healthy way to meet a deadline after having a brilliant night before. I certainly have not found it yet.
Picture Bali and you might conjure up images of white sand beaches, cliff-top temples and jungles inhabited with monkeys. Combine that with its legendary party culture, abundance of tourist hostels, and affordable dining scene, and it presents itself as a paradise for young travellers hoping to see a far corner of the world while never straying far from home comforts.
For the first week, the experience lived up to every expectation. We hiked the famous volcano, Mount Batur, to watch a breathtaking sunrise, learned to surf, and I even felt adventurous enough to try the local food. The local food then decided to try me. My friends and I had approached the trip with the motto ‘catch flights, not feelings’, and it appears we completely forgot to add ‘or parasitic infections’ to that list. A week in, I found myself completely caught out.
There was nothing to be done. After 5 days of refusing to eat or leave my bed (with the regular exception of a visit to the porcelain throne), my friends and I decided it was high time I fought back against the war waging in my stomach. It was time to visit… Nusa Medica.
The clinic was an oasis of air conditioning and while-tiled floors in the middle of the sweltering jungle. Stepping inside removed me temporarily from my suffering as I felt overwhelmingly reminded of the SSL – with the marked difference being that everyone around me had an intact will to live; this being a hospital. I’m also not sure any Bodleian library would have approved the blasting of Bees Gees’s ’Stayin’ Alive’ over a bluetooth speaker, but my friends are nothing if not top motivators.
I spent the night there with two other sorry looking folks. Together, we resembled a collaboration between Britts on Tour and 24 hours in A&E (the Balinese version). On the right side of my privacy-curtain was an elderly Geordie named John, who appeared to be in perfectly good health, other than the fact he was in hospital. Meanwhile, on my left side, there lay the unfortunate victim of what appeared to be a werewolf attack; he didn’t speak much, bled a lot, and had an alarming chunk of human flesh (yes, really) perched ominously on his sideboard. Despite his condition, he managed to win me over by sparing the odd sympathetic glance every time I walked past to answer the call of nature, clinging to my IV drip post like Gandalf with a bad back. Owing to the fact that this was a twice-an-hour occurrence, I found myself growing fond of him and rather missed him when he perished in the night. Kidding – he was moved to the Island’s main hospital. Mysterious bleeding man, if you’re out there reading this, I wish you all the best.
My hospital stint remained only a stint as, the very next day, my two friends burst into the clinic to break me out. Our flight was to depart that night at 9pm and they were determined that I was to be on it. Haggling is a large part of Indonesian market culture, but it was rather uncomfortable to see my health treated in the very same way.. The nurses – rays of sunshine – prophesied my demise at each turn and remained bewildered as my friends spoke at length of my vibrant energy and good health. I lay there watching the drip-drip of my IV, and wishing John wasn’t spending so long in our shared bathroom. At this point, due credit must be issued to our tutorial teaching system. With not a drop of medical knowledge between them, my friends waffled their way into persuading the healthcare officers to issue my release from Nusa Medica within the half-hour. Watch out, Downing Street.
Some friends offer a shoulder to cry on, other friends make you laugh. Some friends bundle you out of hospital into a cab, through security, onto a fight, onto another flight, and then onto a train home from Heathrow. A small, mature part of me recognises that difficult experiences teach us lasting life lessons, and I can safely say I now realise the importance of travelling with good company. Other departing wisdom includes taking out solid health insurance and listening to the advice of other travellers regarding which food is safe to eat. Also avoiding werewolves in the Uluwatu area of Bali.
Now is not a good time to be a nimby. With the return of compulsory housebuilding targets, it is the new government’s ambition to build 1.5 million homes by the end of the next parliament. These new developments must be complemented by infrastructure systems, local services, and a sense of place.
That’s where the Oxford-Cambridge arc comes in. Labour’s new houses have to go somewhere, and the arc that spans Oxfordshire, Northamptonshire, Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, and Cambridge is a good bet. Oxford and Cambridge are powerhouses of innovation in the UK, playing host to the two best universities in the world. Milton Keynes is the largest new town in the UK. There is an international airport at Luton. The arc contains six science parks, 17 research and technology zones, and 10 universities. Most towns have rail links to London in under an hour.
To not have a direct link between these economic assets is madness. East West Rail would reduce the Oxford-Cambridge journey to 1 hour 30 minutes, nearly halving typical journey times which require two changes in the capital. A new motorway wasn’t the answer, and the expressway was rightly cancelled. But an electrified railway, alongside a commitment to sustainable and sensible housing developments, such as on brownfield sites, continued local consultation, and funding for rewilding, can only be a positive. Investment in growth must be spread throughout the country, but this opportunity is simply too good to miss.
