Amy covers the anticipated relaunch of radical magazine ‘Agitator 2.0’ at the LSE
An exclusive investigation reveals no discplinary action was taken against any LSE sta a er 202 reports of misconduct since September 2024
FEATURES
Tomas investigates just how legitimate university rankings truly are
6 12
OPINION
Hana argues against the claim that boys are ‘falling behind’
Meet the Team
Executive Editor
Janset An executive.beaver@lsesu.org
Managing Editor
Lucas Ngai managing.beaver@lsesu.org
Flipside Editor
Skye Slatcher editor. ipside@lsesu.org
Frontside Editor
Suchita !epkanjana editor.beaver@lsesu.org
Multimedia Editor
Sylvain Chan multimedia.beaver@lsesu.org
News Editors
Amy O’ Donoghue
Jack Baker
Features Editors
Vasavi Singhal
Angelika Santaniello
Opinion Editors
Shreya Gupta
Aaina Saini
Review Editors
Jessica Chan
Iman Waseem
Part B Editors
Shahzaib Ali Khan
Zara Noor
Social Editors
Amelia Hancock
Aashi Bains
Sport Editors
Emerson Lam
Harry Roberts
Illustration Heads
Vivika Sahajpal
Laura Liu
Website Editor
Natasha Pinto
Philippa Park
Photography Head
Yuvi Chahar
Podcast Editor
Salma Abuletta
Formatting Editor
Oliver Chan
Social Secretary
Isabella Liu
Social Media
Sophie Alcock
Yashve Rai
Anika Balwada
Anisha Shinde
Khushi Khandelwal
How do You Write Like You’re Running Out of
Sylvain Chan
Multimedia Editor
Sorry for the Hamilton reference in the ‘Big 2025’ but the ‘non-stop’ pace I’ve been working at lately has – to my chagrin – been my de ning character trait … and it’s only Week four.
To compensate for a summer slump of unemployment, I’ve lled myself to the brim with tasks and side quests. Describing it as overwhelming is an understatement, as I write this on my walk back home at 10:30pm, having spent my sole ‘free day’ hunched over on campus.
As I always do during my darkest times, I turn to my reliable and vaguely parasocial
source of comfort: Brennan Lee Mulligan. I watched his interview with Pedestrian.TV recently, where he addressed his status of being ‘the most employed man in the world’ – a title popularised following his contract renewal with the streaming service Dropout, working as dungeon master for season 4 of Critical Role, and being a father. To many, it looks like he operates on a di erent 24 hours than the rest of us.
What really stuck with me, however, was how he described his packed schedule as simply “honouring all those years [he] spent waiting” for opportunities to let his work shine. !is may be unique to those who seek emotional ful lment and are genuinely
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!e Beaver is issued under a Creative Commons license. Attribution necessary. Printed at Ili e Print, Cambridge.
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passionate about their careers; god knows if an IBanker would willingly work overtime ‘for the love of the game’.
But as someone who yearns to pursue something in the creative eld, I really understand Brennan’s drive –I, too, would “run as hard as [I] can when [I] get that little bit of sunshine”.
!e obsessive hustle culture at LSE can be really daunting when ‘success’ seems to be solely de ned by having a $60k starting salary. But a$er a co ee chat with a multihyphenate in uencer I’ve admired for a while (teaser for my next multimedia feature), she reframed my idea of being ‘career-driven’ as a matter of self-determinant ambition. It’s
Time?
not bad to be a workaholic so long as it contributes to paving the path for your future, even if it may be an atypical one.
Of course, it’s important to draw boundaries and recognise when you need a break. But maybe I would rather be constantly occupied and dancing in lost-productive limbo than be doomscrolling and inert.
It’s funny how similar this editorial is to my springtime one last year: gloomy and stressful buildup with a somewhat hopeful turnaround. I guess this just goes to show that a$er every trough in life, what inevitably follows is well-needed, relative contentment.
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NEWS
News Editors
Jack Baker Amy O’Donoghue news.beaver@lsesu.org
Investigation Reveals No Disciplinary Action Taken Against LSE Sta a er 202 Total Reports of Misconduct on Support + Report System
Jac k Ba k er News Editor
Following an exclusive investigation by The Beaver, LSE has confirmed that not a single member of staff received any form of disciplinary action for any complaint made using the Report + Support tool since September 2024. A Freedom of Information request showed that there were over 202 reports made using this tool between then and 31 August 2025.
Of this total, 28 were designated ‘sexual misconduct’, 76 ‘harassment’, 46 ‘hate incident’, and 29 ‘assault’ incidents. Multiple categories were able to be selected, and other cases were spread between various other
Not a single one resulted in any disciplinary action against a member of LSE sta
categories. Not a single one resulted in any disciplinary action against a member of staff. There were less than 5 instances of disciplinary action taken against LSE students, with the exact number not shared due to privacy concerns.
LSE Report and Support is the School’s online reporting tool for students, staff, and visitors, though reports can also be made through HR and legal teams. This data is not included in these statistics.
When pressed for comment, a spokesperson for LSE told us that this has “no place in the LSE community” and that “many [reports] led to informal action”. When stating what informal action is, they listed “an individual [being] made aware of the impact of their behaviour or recommendations for
training are implemented”.
This investigation comes in the wake of an article published by The Beaver last year that examined the School’s mishandled sexual misconduct investigation into an LSE professor. In this case, individuals involved told us that the “complaint system at LSE seems to be set up to protect the faculty and does not just let these abuses happen, but discriminates against the people who complain”. These recent findings seem to suggest that a lack of disciplinary action is systemic across LSE.
The information received from our investigation shows that since 28 March, 29 complaints have been made about staff and 20 against students. A breakdown of data into staff or students before March was not shared – the reason for
this is not currently known.
Aliyyah Tahir, President of Hands Off LSE – a campaign group of the Student’s Union dedicated to tackling sexual violence on campus – stated that
this “points to a persistent and troubling pattern of institutional inaction, re ecting LSE’s ongoing failure to take reports of sexual violence and harass ment seriously”.
LSE publishes an insight re port each term, with details of complaints made at the aggregate level. During Autumn Term, 6.9% of cases were reportedly referred for disciplinary action. However, the results of our investigation suggest that none of these resulted in any action taken. LSE’s publicly available reporting suggests that 13.2% of individuals in Winter Term 24/25 chose to remain anonymous due to fears of repercussions
LSE Students Launch New Personal Finance Society
Sylvain Chan
Multimedia Editor
Oliver Chan Photography
LSE students have formed the Personal Finance Society, aiming to empower peers to achieve their own personal nancial goals concerning “saving, budgeting, investing, managing credit, and more”.
In conversation with the society’s co-presidents, Aanya Jain and Sophie Anker, they comment on university as a critical developmental stage for students towards ‘adulting’, yet note the lack of practical knowhow and su%cient support for handling nances.
In a recent study by Santander UK, only one in four young adults (ages 18–21) leaves school having received nancial education. Aanya re ects on the frequently perpetuated
advice of needing to ‘invest early’: “Everyone at LSE wants high-paying jobs, but what after?” Speaking from personal experience, Sophie recognises that the process of opening an account, paying bills, obtaining a national insurance number, maintaining an investing routine, and beyond can be “really scary … [and] a lot of work”.
Without adequate guidance, almost a third of young adults turn to in uencers for nancial education. While easily accessible, Aanya suggests that relying on ‘Fin uencers’ and direct advice is the “wrong way to go about personal nance”. Attempting to seek right or wrong answers about “what stocks to invest in” overlooks the fact that there is no nancial strategy that ts all needs and behaviours. As Sophie describes to e Beaver, the end goal of personal nance is “not what brings ... the greatest returns, but what brings [one] greatest happiness”.
e society primarily aims to provide workshops such as ‘Invest, Save, Spend 101’, speaker events, and other resources necessary to demystify personal nance. A er developing con dence through education to take the rst step, Aanya and Sophie state that students will then be free to make their own informed decisions.
Aanya and Sophie acknowledge the important role educational systems play in providing the framework for students’ nancial literacy. LSE o ers various nancial resources, such as the LSESU Advice Service, and has partnered with Blackbullion, a nancial wellbeing app. However, they allege that utilising these resources requires initiative that may be absent for students who grew up in households that “did not talk about money” or lacked connections. Aanya also describes how women may be discouraged from approaching these top-
for themselves and others – a response reminiscent of the investigation done by The Beaver.
When approached for comment, LSE stated: “All forms of harassment, bullying, discrimination and sexual misconduct are wholly unacceptable. There is no place for this kind of behaviour in the LSE community.”
They stated that a “large proportion of reports were anonymous” and that this “cannot, generally, lead to a direct follow-up”. They further stated that “of the remaining cases, many led to informal action”. The examples of what constituted informal action were listed as where “an individual is made aware of the impact of their behaviour or recommendations for training are implemented”.
Read the full article and LSE’s response online.
ics, considering the dominant “toxic masculine lifestyle” of risk-taking investment in the ‘Fin uencer’ sphere. Whether due to cultural, social, or class strati cations, these structural inequalities can impact one’s relationship with money and mental health by extension. rough the society, Aanya and Sophie claim to strive to create a judgement-free space where students can have casual conversations about nances, thereby improving their independence.
Events planned include col-
laborations between the Personal Finance Society and other LSESU communities, such as the Feminism Society, to address intersectional inequalities in nancial literacy, and the LSE Blockchain to unpack the world of cryptocurrency. e society also expects to invite people who have built their wealth sustainably.
You can nd more information about the new society on their Instagram: @lsesu.personal nance
Agitator 2.0: e Relaunch of a Radical Magazine at LSE
Amy O’Donoghue News Editor
Sylvian Chan Illustrator
Students at LSE have launched a new edition of the Agitator, a self-proclaimed “revolutionary pamphlet” rst created in the 1960s by the LSE Socialist Society. e magazine, led by members of LSESU Students for Justice in Palestine, combines academic and creative work highlighting what they describe as LSE’s “complicity in overseas colonial regimes and its repression of student movements on campus”. On 3 October 2025, students, sta , and alumni gathered to promote the release of the new issue and discuss its contents with a panel of contributors.
e event began with Anna, an outgoing Master’s student and an editor of the Agitator, discussing its history and relevance today. e rst ever issue, published in 1966, criticised the links between Walter Adams (then-director of LSE) and white-minority rule in Zimbabwe. Alumni who were involved with the formation of
the very rst issue were in attendance at the relaunch.
e new issue highlights that LSE invests “£72 million in egregious companies andnancial institutions involved in crimes against the Palestinian people”. Anna described the death and destruction in Gaza and the repression of the Gaza Freedom Flotilla. She called everyone to “ground ourselves in this reality, not to lose ourselves in despair, but to honour the martyrs and remind us of what is at stake”.
e panel consisted of contributors to the Agitator 2.0, such as Professor Kumar of the Social Policy department, Professor Salem, and Professor Taha of the Sociology department, and Sociology students Nihal Yaldir and Dan Brown. ey proceeded to discuss their speci c interests in Palestine and the student movement.
Brown claimed that LSE has £2 million invested in BP, which owns an oil pipeline that is the “key source of oil for Israel” and what he describes as the “lifeblood of the Israeli economy and the Israeli war machine”. LSE also has historical links with BP, such as a profes-
sorship scheme which was established following a donation made by BP to LSE. He stated that “wherever BP does their work, it involves violence and suppression”. LSE emphasised to e Beaver that their investments are not direct.
Salem and Taha then discussed the contents of their piece in the Agitator 2.0, entitled ‘What is a University For?’. ey talked about how...
whilst people question whether a university should even be a space of politics, it is now more important than ever to push the university as “a space of inquiry and radical refusal”.
ey questioned why tuition fees are “being invested in the arms trade” and highlighted that whilst sta may want to organise in protest, it’s hard to build a community of resistance when people are “destabilised by casualised contracts”.
A spokesperson for LSE told e Beaver: “We are committed to strengthening our approach to responsible investment in line with the Environmental, Social and Governance (ESG) Policy, which was recently reviewed.” ey highlighted that a “thorough
assessment” of the School’s investment policy has been carried out in the past year.
ey also told e Beaver that freedom of speech was of the “utmost importance” to them and asserted that they only intervene in a protest if it crosses the line into illegality or violence.
Referencing the most notorious instance of protest being sti ed on campus, which involved seven pro-Palestine students being suspended after a protest in July 2024, LSE stated: “ e action was initiated a%er we received multiple complaints from sta – who observed rst-hand and heard from students seeking to register – that the protesters, with
covered faces, physically obstructed their work and e orts; used loud megaphones in an enclosed inside space; shouted in people’s faces; and behaved in a manner that intimidated and frightened people.
We could not responsibly ignore these complaints and allegations, which required us to initiate an investigation and disciplinary proceedings, even if some who were present may not have been upset or may have a di erent perspective.”
Backlash a er Israel Society Hands Out ‘I SUPPORT THE IDF’ Merchandise at Freshers Fair
LSESU’s stance on Gaza has again become a battleground of student opinion in light of a recent incident between ‘Jews against Zionism’ (JAZ) and Israel Society. A formal complaint was laid down to LSESU by JAZ in response to Israel Society handing out ‘I support the IDF’ wristbands on September 25th, the Thursday of Freshers Fair.
“It’s important not to be surprised by the things these people are doing, but I was completely shocked,” said Oli, one of the members of JAZ in the stall directly opposite the Israeli Society during Freshers Week.
A member of Israel Society confirmed to The Beaver that they were handing out ‘I support the IDF’ wristbands alongside leaflets, waterbottles, and powerbanks on the day.
As ‘Cultural Day’ had been scheduled for the first day of Rosh Hashanah – the Jewish New Year, Jewish Society, Israel Society, and Jews against Zionism all had to postpone their stalls from Monday to Thursday. After seeing that Israel Society was handing out their wristbands, members of JAZ complained to members of LSESU staff, after which the Israel Society subsequently
put the remaining wristbands away.
After the fair had ended for the day, Ben, President of Israel Society, approached the JAZ stall to speak. Speaking to The Beaver, his key complaint relating to JAZ was their turn away from discourse, stating there is “no need for this back and forth – complaint, meeting, complaint, just come up to me and have a conversation”.
Following the event, JAZ launched their petition in tandem with an Instagram post, ‘condemning the distribution’ of the wristbands. The petition itself calls for LSE not to tolerate such actions and calls for signatures. It also asks signatories to ‘share any thoughts’ on the wristband distribution.
In addition to the petition, a formal complaint was privately lodged to the SU by members of the group. Welfare and Liberation Officer Isabel Howe confirmed that the SU had received the complaint and was in the process of drafting a response to the group.
Though LSE as a whole was targeted by the petition, members of both JAZ, Palestine Society, and Israel Society have placed the crux of the matter with the Students’ Union, seeing this as the vehicle of change. The Students’ Union has acknowledged the ongoing genocide in Palestine after a strong referendum result, with...
of students voting in favour.
Many staff and associated individuals have also expressed support in private.
The president of JAZ, Dylan Watts, stated that, with regard to the SU, it was the case that “generally they are sympathetic but a bit weak, because they like to play this two-sides narrative that both sides need to be listened to, but one side are literal genocide deniers.”
Ben also pointed to this crucial tension, stating that he hopes “they will allow freedom of expression to continue … They should allow these conversations to be had, and I sincerely hope they don’t dampen freedom of expression at LSE.”
Members of JAZ said that they had multiple private conversations with staff who voiced their frustration at such actions more broadly.
On one occasion, JAZ member Oli had spoken to one member of staff who called the distribution a “disgusting” act.
88.6% “ ey’re on the right side and they have goodwill, but maybe a lack of political will on some occasions,” said Dylan.
In an interview with The Beaver, Welfare and Liberation officer Isabel was quick to dismiss suggestions that staff could voice an opinion on the issue, arguing that while sabbatical officers had some scope to speak following the referenda results, “In terms of staff, their opinions can’t come into their work … they all understand it’s important not to do that on a moral level.”
Isabel said that the referendum result in favour of recognising the genocide provided some scope for working with students on topics such as divestment but the platform was also limited. “I understand this sounds quite vague but what it means is we can work better with students,” she said.
Key to the SU’s approach, according to Isabel, is “facilitating and creating as many places as possible for campaigns to exist … it’s on the Student Union to balance and follow the law while at the same time encouraging students”.
An LSE spokesperson told The Beaver: “Academic freedom and freedom of expression underpin everything we do at LSE. Students and staff are strongly encouraged to discuss and debate the most pressing
issues around the world in a mutually respectful manner. This is enshrined in UK law by the Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Act 2023, [which states] that LSE has an obligation to adhere to via our Code of Practice on Free Speech.”
“As an institution, LSE does not take a formal position on political or international issues. Instead, it endeavours to provide a platform to facilitate discussion and critical debate, within the law, where the views of all parties are treated with respect. is includes the expression of views that are unpopular, controversial, provocative, or cause upset, but are not unlawful.”
FEATURES
Do University Rankings Matter? And Should ey?
Tomas Corej Staff Writer
For years, university rankings have been criticised as subjective, inaccurate, and even unscienti c. Despite growing doubts about their purpose, they remain a popular tool for employers, the media, students, and universities themselves.
Recently, the London School of Economics (LSE) celebrated being named the number one university in the United Kingdom by e Times and Sunday Times Good University Guide. Per LSE President Larry Kramer, the ranking exhibits "the dedication and talent of our faculty, sta", students, and global community". Simultaneously, LSE only nished in 52nd place according to the international Times Higher Education ranking.
At rst glance, this seems to be a rather bizarre situation. How can there be such disparity between di"erent university ranking outcomes?
ere are two main large groups of academic rankings: international and national.
National rankings use "a greater variety of indicators" compared to international rankings. While criteria di"er, they usually include student feedback, expenditure per student, and student-to-sta" ratio.
So, how important are these rankings?
Chen-Ta Sung, doctoral researcher in the Department of Psychological and Behavioural Science at LSE, claims that rankings "can be useful", depending on what one is looking for.
then choose the ranking table that best re ects those priorities," he tells the Beaver.
Sung explains that rankings may be important for those seeking their rst professional job. When he worked in a corporate setting in London and was involved in hiring new graduates, "the university someone attended was one of the factors we considered during the initial screening process”.
is opinion resonates with some students. Yifei, an exchange student from the United
Yet whether international or British, some researchers are sceptical of their usefulness.
Among the critics is Berend van der Kolk, Associate Professor in the Department of Accounting of Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, who has published a book on the contemporary preoccupation with performance metrics.
"I do not recommend any rankings at the university level," he tells the Beaver.
As Van der Kolk explains, the
States, tells the Beaver he monitored rankings while choosing to spend a year at LSE. Similarly, he considers rankings to be important for his future career prospects. However, he clari es that he looks “at the subject rst and then at the overall ranking", prioritising departmental performance.
At the same time, he does not consider any ranking inherently superior to another. "It really depends on which factors matter most to you – and you can
rankings "impose a competition frame" and enable the private sector "to dictate what universities should do and be". He is convinced that they ultimately lead to what he calls "indicatorism" – a focus on improving rankings while losing sight of universities’ original goals.
"Rankings come with a feel of objectivity but are highly subjective"
at said, researcher Sung emphasises that the perceived usefulness of university rankings "can vary across cultures”. He illustrates that "credentialism" is dominant in some societies, such as India and China, which may have unintended consequences such as exacerbating inequality.
"... the rankings 'impose a competition frame' and enable the private sector to dictate what universities should do and be."
such as Scopus display sharp increases in the yearly number of publications," Van der Kolk claims.
is sentiment is echoed by several LSE students. Leo told the Beaver that, according to them, many universities scoring highly in rankings tend to not be "good at teaching", as they place excessive emphasis on research: "Faculty have so much pressure and competition to get funding."
Still, Leo candidly remarks that their decision to choose LSE was ultimately in uenced by rankings: “ ey do matter because of ‘networks and employers’ perceptions’.”
Alongside other concerns, some claim that ranking universities hierarchically is wrong per se. For example, Jelena Brankovic, Senior Researcher at the Robert K. Merton Center for Science Studies at the Humboldt-Universität in Berlin, noted in her LSE Impact Blog that the "carefully calibrated" methodologies used to evaluate quality of universities are designed "to convince us that rankings are rooted in logic and quasi-scienti!c reasoning."
While methodological di"erences between di"erent rankings are large, many of them –especially the international ones – emphasise not only quality, but also the quantity of research.
"Unsurprisingly, universities press academics to publish more papers, and citation databases
e Beaver reached out to Brankovic, who did not dismiss the usefulness of rankings altogether. "If students nd them useful, then they are useful, even if they are misleading. If some students don't nd them useful, then they are not useful for those students."
So, do students nd them useful?
Stefan never considered rankings when applying to LSE. "I did consider LSE's reputation, but I don't have any interest in speci c rankings," he summarises.
On the other hand, Christine explains that, due to her interest in research and academia, she found rankings useful. "I got into SOAS as well, but SOAS has a lower ranking so I decided to come to LSE.”
"If students nd them useful, then they are useful, even if they are misleading."
At the same time, she emphasises the importance of other criteria, including networking opportunities and programme length.
To sum up, rankings keep having a great deal of in uence, leaving a lot of students little choice but to consider them. But at the time when even their defenders admit their shortcomings, and most experts caution against their unwanted societal e"ects, their purpose indeed deserves further consideration. Such continued debate is greatly needed at LSE, too.
Read the full article online!
Inside LSE’s IR Department: Where eory Meets the Real World
Shreya Gupta
Opinion Editor
Yuvi Chahar
Photography
When I received my o er to study International Relations (IR), I found myself torn between LSE and the University of Edinburgh. Having lived in London all my life, the idea of studying here seemed dull –too familiar, too close. But the more I thought about it, the more a question lingered: how does studying IR change when you’re based in a city where so much of it takes place?
With its location in the heart of London, its global community, and the sheer breadth of resources available, LSE arguably o ers a unique academic environment for studying how the world works. To understand what makes this experience so unique, I spoke to fellow students and faculty members across the Department of International Relations.
on your way to class.
During my very "rst term, I was struck by the sheer range of opportunities LSE had to o er. One moment that stood out was attending Professor Peter Trubowitz’s ‘Food for ought’ event just before the U.S. presidential election. We discussed the possibility of a second Trump administration – the conversation felt timely and deeply relevant. It was one of the "rst times I realised that what we study in class isn’t just theory; it’s unfolding in real time, and it matters.
A Department Built on Its Own Legacy
Nowhere is this advantage clearer than within the IR Department itself. Much of the discipline’s foundational theory has deep roots at LSE.
Rushil, a fellow IR student, reminded me that “a huge portion of seminal IR scholarship – Buzan, Lawson, and the Eng-
“... our lectures have to be restructured to keep up with the turbulence of the international system.”
To explore the connection between theory and practice, I turned to Professor Toby Dodge, my Foreign Policy Analysis lecturer, whose extensive work on Iraq and Middle Eastern politics bridges the gap between academic studies and lived geopolitics.
A recurring theme quickly emerged – as Professor Dodge put it, “LSE’s position between government and the city allows for supplies and expertise.” From in uential decision-makers delivering public lectures almost daily, to the proximity of internships, NGOs, embassies, and think tanks, the university’s location gives students a front-row seat to the practice of international a airs. It’s one thing to study foreign policy, but it’s another to walk past a foreign embassy
who bring lived experience to the academic space.
Thinking Critically, Speaking Freely
Professor Dodge also drew a distinction between the formal and informal sides of the course. “Teachers are merely there to facilitate thinking,” he said. “Students play [a] bigger role in channeling that thinking into a process that leads to [their] own thought[s].” It’s a philosophy I’ve seen in action every week. Seminars at LSE are more than spaces for discussion; they’re laboratories of ideas, where disagreement is encouraged, and non-mainstream perspectives are valued.
Because IR is a discipline de"ned by constant change, this openness feels essential. As Professor Dodge explained, “our lectures have to be restructured to keep up with the turbulence of the international system.” For professors, that means recognising that “we don’t always have the right approaches; our theories and case studies must evolve”. For students, it means learning to think critically, to question our assumptions, and to understand the limits of our own worldviews.
A Truly International Classroom
lish School – originated here.” at legacy is re ected not just in the readings, but in the people teaching them.
One of the Foreign Policy Analysis classes this year is taught by Andi Sparringa, a senior Indonesian diplomat currently completing his PhD at LSE. His presence in the classroom reminds us that theory and practice aren’t separate worlds, but are constantly in dialogue.
As Professor Dodge noted, there is a vital “interaction between what we study and what we try to impart; what’s been given to us and what we’re giving to students”. e department’s faculty are not only diverse in background but also in their approaches – scholars, diplomats, and practitioners
Expanding the Global Lens
One area where LSE has made vital progress is in encouraging students to study languages alongside their degree. For me, studying Spanish has been an invaluable complement to my IR courses. Language learning does more than expand communication skills – it opens new ways of understanding culture, diplomacy, and identity. I have had the opportunity to study both Latin American and Spanish Politics, broadening my knowledge of historical and contemporary international relations. In a "eld where empathy and cross-cultural literacy are as important as theory, this feels indispensable.
e diversity of LSE’s student body is o en mentioned, but it’s only when you sit in a seminar that you realise how much it transforms learning. Rushil described this perfectly: “ is is what IR is about at the end of the day.” Conversations about world politics come alive when they’re grounded in lived experiences – from students who’ve grown up in con ict zones, worked in NGOs, or moved between countries. Professor
gagement with the Grimshaw Club, LSE’s oldest society, has allowed me to do just this in both informal spaces, such as socials, and formal spaces, such as embassy visits or panel discussions.
Studying IR at LSE has taught me that understanding international politics isn’t just about theory or institutions; it’s about people, perspectives, and the willingness to listen. Whether it is through seminars, language learning, or conversations, the ‘LSE experience’ pushes you to think globally and empathetically. And that, perhaps, is what
"... it’s not just about observing the world, but learning how to engage with it."
Dodge summarised this: “You learn so much more in your seminars and amongst your fellow students than you do from us.” is points to some of the most formative lessons being learned at LSE not coming from textbooks, but from hearing classmates challenge, expand, and reframe perspec tives about the world. My en
makes studying International Relations here so special – it’s not just about observing the world, but learning how to engage with it.
LSE Media Relations were contacted for a comment on 16 October but have not replied.
FEATURES
LSE’s Widening Participation Measures: Too Little, Too Late?
As an institution with a net worth of over a billion and a 26% privately educated student population, LSE is perceived by many as prestigious and elite.
With such a level of wealth and resources, the School has a responsibility to ensure its students from disadvantaged socioeconomic backgrounds are not le behind. Despite recent changes to its Widening Participation measures, such as updates to contextual admissions criteria and bursary thresholds, many current students from lower-income backgrounds still feel overlooked.
Until 2025, LSE had primarily used the POLAR quintile system – a classi cation system which grades postcode areas based on rates of university
ceive lower grade requirements). Eligibility for Free School Meals (FSM) or household income is widely considered the most accurate indicators of someone’s socioeconomic background.
Yet, until the alterations made in the 2025-2028 Widening Participation Plan, these were not used to determine if someone was entitled to a contextual o"er.
e previous system le a lot of room for error. Tom, a second-year student, told e Beaver that despite being entitled to FSM throughout secondary school, he did not receive a
seem to make any e"ort to acknowledge” important factors that determine a person’s likelihood to progress to university, such as parental occupation and education.
LSE con rmed that the latest contextual o"er criteria now include FSM as a marker of eligibility, in a change from previous years. ey told e Beaver that the new Access and Participa tion Plan includes “ambitious targets to promote equality of opportunity at every stage from accessing university through to progressing to good graduate outcomes”. ey also highlighted that they have recently launched the LSE Navigate pro-
One anonymous undergraduate told e Beaver that upon learning that LSE expanded the bursary eligibility to more income categories, they entered into their deferred rst year of study expecting to receive £1500 – only to discover that since they had technically enrolled in the 24/25 cohort, they would receive nothing at all.
But this assumption overlooks those who don’t come from af%uent backgrounds. Grace, who attends LSE on a scholarship, told e Beaver that students who come from abroad may face "speci c challenges that LSE doesn’t really consider”. She highlighted that student overdra accounts, which may act as a temporary safety net for
“... the timeline on which they make the scholarship payments is not conducive to actual student life,”
"However, current students shouldn’t be neglected: the struggles that come with a lower socioeconomic background don’t disappear once a place at LSE is obtained."
contextual o"er. Meanwhile, he noted that other students in his cohort did receive one due to their postcode being classied as a lower POLAR quin
gramme “to increase support for contextual o"er holders”.
is seems to indicate a welcome – albeit overdue – change in LSE’s access measures.
But some current students remain dissatis ed.
One student told e Beaver that since they had not received a contextual o"er, despite previously being in receipt of FSM, they had been denied a place on LSE Navigate – a new scheme designed to help students from lower-income backgrounds ad just to university and make the most of the academic and pro fessional opportunities available to them.
Skye, a third-year law student, reported similar frustration with the fact that incoming students, in the same income bracket as her, would receive £2000 more. “My living costs are not minimised by virtue of having started my degree two years ago,” she stated.
A LSE spokesperson told e Beaver: “ e increased bursary values and household income thresholds will ensure that more of our students will receive nancial support and more funding than ever will be disbursed through the LSE Bursary.” ey also highlighted that LSE o"ers “one of the most generous bursary packages in the country”.
Whilst it’s a positive change that LSE is broadening its scope of nancial support for its pupils, as an institution with
It appears that incoming students will have more provisions made for them, which is undeniably a positive progression. However, current students shouldn’t be neglected: the struggles that come with a lower socioeconomic background don’t disappear once a place at LSE is obtained.
Present students have described the stress and dissatisfaction that comes with attempting to nancial support from LSE.
home students, are generally unavailable to international students, who “can’t really access credit in the UK”.
She also asserted that “the timeline on which they make the scholarship payments is not conducive to actual student life”, receiving less in the rst term than she does later on, despite needing more money to help with moving in and buying memberships on campus.
e nancial support LSE appears to o"er is evidently o en wrapped up in bureaucracy and practical barriers to access. If the targeted students are consistently struggling to access them, how can LSE claim it holistically supports its disadvantaged students? LSE has a responsibility to ensure all of its students are able
e "nancial support LSE appears to o er is evidently o en wrapped up in bureaucracy and practical barriers to access.
one of the largest endowments in the country, one wonders why it wouldn’t extend this help to all the students who need it.
Home students aren’t the only ones a"ected by LSE’s poten tial apathy to nancial hard ship. With a student popula tion consisting of over 70% international students, many of them having previously attended wealthy international schools, there is a common perception that most international students don’t neednancial assistance.
to thrive without barriers, and it certainly has the necessary resources. Failure to accommodate these students can only derive from apathy to their struggles.
Read the full article and LSE's response online.
OPINION
No, Boys Aren’t Falling Behind. ey’re Just Used to Being Ahead
Hana Reid
Contributing
Writer
April Yang
Illustrator
“Guys know that if they sit back and relax, something will get done by someone else,” one high schooler told Education Week when asked why boys avoid leadership roles. Brutal. But also, Exactly.
e internet is drowning in think pieces about young men in crisis, boys falling behind, girls surging ahead. Claire Cain Miller said in e New York Times: “School has changed in ways that favor girls, and work has changed in ways that favor women.” At rst glance, the numbers look grim for boys: women now outpace men in high school, college, and early employment. e narrative is simple – girls are winning, boys are drowning.
But if you look past the headlines, the truth tells a di%erent story: women’s wages are “rising faster” only because they’re still ghting to catch up. ey dominate many low-paid sectors, and even when they outperform men academically, they still earn less once they enter the workforce. Working
women in the UK do 50 hours per month more domestic labour than men, with mothers earning £302 less than fathers per week. Even female breadwinners usually take on the heavier domestic labour; one study found 45% do the majority of home/caring work. Even when women negotiate just as much for higher salaries, the odds are against them. Promotion? Recognition? Equal pay? Not a given. is doesn’t look like women “winning”. Meanwhile, men’s workforce
It looks like women carrying not just professional loads, but invisible burdens society refuses to acknowledge.
participation has slipped since the ’70s, but fewer full-time working men also means more men choosing caregiving roles. About 20% of stay-athome parents in the U.S. are now dads, double the rate in 1989. at’s not collapse. at’s change. Why do we treat men choosing the home front as a crisis instead of progress?
Economic shi!s tell a more complete story. Many manual labor jobs once held by men have disappeared. Service-sector roles – traditionally female – have boomed. Gen Z women
now make up ...
53%
of their generation in the workforce.
But a lot of that work is parttime or lower paid, while men o!en hold out for higher status or pay. So yes, women are working more, but working more for less money, power and recognition.
In education, similar patterns emerge. Women account for 57% of higher education. Rather than ask why boys might be checking out, we label education “girly”, “woke”, and “emasculating”. e tempting, faster-reward path? Hustle bros on YouTube selling alpha energy and dominance without discipline.
is is gender ight theory in action: when women start showing up in spaces of power or prestige, many men abandon them. Once women dominate a eld or institution, it loses prestige and perceived value, and salaries decrease. at pattern shows up everywhere from medicine, education and tech. Prestige is hoarded, then dismissed as “overrun”.
Response: In Defence of Charlie Kirk
Aiden Sanchez Romero Contributing Writer
Of all of Tyler Robinson’s bullet engravings, “Hey Fascist! Catch!” perhaps best depicts his motivations. Indeed, accusations of Fascism are commonplace in American Discourse, with many somehow accusing the Pro-Gun, capitalist, isolationist, civic-nationalist President of being one too.
Undoubtedly, Kirk was more right wing than most. As fringe le!-wingers celebrated
his death, mainstream media obfuscated the reality of the assassin’s political ideology, such as Jimmy Kimmel’s false insinuation that Robinson was a conservative.
Mislabeling Kirk as a Fascist or someone who created “a hateful, intolerant America” may give those politically conscious great anxiety, fearing a repeat of historical catastrophe. Who wouldn’t have pulled a trigger to kill Adolf Hitler, or Pol Pot, given the chance? In extraordinary circumstances, violence against political actors seems contemplable.
Powerful, perhaps overcompensating, Mark Zuckerberg has griped about the lack of “masculine energy” in the corporate world. Similarly, Donald Trump has said America has become “too feminised.” ese aren’t neutral observations –they’re dog whistles. ey shi! the blame for the outcomes of patriarchal leadership styles onto women’s progress rather than systemic inequality, bias, or power-hoarding.
Women o to be more quali taken seriously – but it’s not just a feeling. Studies show that women are hired based on ex perience and evidence, whilst men are hired based on poten tial. Even to be hired, you need to be called back a ting your resume, and with a woman’s name, that’s 30% less likely.
is is an expression of the “prove-it-again” phenomenon: the expectation that marginalized groups (women, Global Majority people) must continuously prove their competence, while default trust is a%orded to men. ese dynamics are structural: bias in evaluation, in networks, in investment, in promotion.
If girls are really “doing so much better,” why doesn’t it translate into power, pay, or investment? When women do get to the C-suite, female founders and female-led startups o!en receive less funding, are penalized more harshly for failures, and on average have lower valuations, even when they generate better returns.
So yes, men face challenges. But the system still stacks the deck in ways that “privilege” them –en invisibly – while women must play by di%erent, harsher
Read the full article online.
However, Charlie Kirk was not an extremist by virtually any parameters, and his death was as futile as it was tragic.
He was a Man who fought extremists such as Nick Fuentes, with Fuentes stating he was “complicit in the Israeli capture of the right wing”, whilst Kirk called Fuentes a “bad faith actor”.
He was a Man who described January 6th as “the dark night of the soul for the conservative movement.”
He was a Man who fought
“Mislabeling Kirk as a Fascist or someone who created ‘a hateful, intolerant America’ may give those politically conscious great anxiety, fearing a repeat of historical catastrophe.”
against Lawlessness, such as the roughly 10 million illegal aliens who migrated to the United States under Joe Biden.
the word empathy, then, seems more nuanced than a dislike of feelings.
He would not have applauded violence against ideological adversaries, acknowledging that “When you stop having a human connection with someone you disagree with, it becomes a lot easier to want to commit violence against that group,”
He didn’t oppose emotion –he simply preferred the word Sympathy to Empathy, a minor semantic point misused to further demonise political adversaries as immoral. Kirk was a devout evangelical Christian, claiming “Jesus saved my life” – hardly the words of a violent reactionary. His opposition to (Continued on next page)
OPINION
and “Violence is not an option”.
Many views and policies on the le wing of American politics are what I would consider radical and divisive. Joe Biden’s calling of 77 million Trump voters as “garbage” wouldn’t have united the nation. Kamala Harris’ support of taxpayer-funded transgender surgeries for illegal immigrants is divisive, yet her 2024 opponent faced far greater safety concerns, including three assassination attempts.
Zohran Mamdani, candidate for NYC Mayor, has repeatedly
On the Fragmentation of British Politics
Joe Card Staff Writer
Since taking o ce, Keir Starmer’s government has disappointed much of the British-le by seeming to continue a dri towards the right which began during his time as Leader of the Opposition. What was perceived as a strategy to win the 2024 election and end 14 years of Conservative government is increasingly looking like a centrist muddle appealing to no one in particular. With approval ratings on the %oor, Starmer’s Labour Party has undeniably lost its role as the electoral vehicle for the vast majority of le -wing voters.
Instead, a range of alternatives are springing up. e Liberal Democrats arguably went into the last election with a more le -wing manifesto than Labour, which saw their best result ever, with 72 MPs elected. e Greens similarly saw their best result, with four MPs elected – especially in seats ranging from urban Brighton to rural East Anglia. In the most direct threat to Labour, Jeremy Corbyn and four other independents won in traditional Labour strongholds, with a number of very close calls in other places. ese independents and Zarah Sultana have since tried to set up a new party, provisionally called Your Party. Despite unedifying public scraps over trans rights, a membership
But if these di erent parties arrive in West minister, following the election scheduled for 2029, how will they coordinate a cohesive programme for goverment?
portal, and sexism, this party may well become yet another alternative to Labour.
OUR TWO PARTY SYSTEM
e conventional wisdom in British politics says that the UK is a two-party state. Political scientists argue that this is the result of our rst-past-thepost electoral system, where candidates only need a plurality of votes to win, rather than an absolute majority. is leads to the inescapable conclusion that when parties fracture, their prospects inevitably decline, and new parties have almost no chance of gaining traction – unless, like Reform, they can jump to the top of the polls. is means that the le of British politics faces a major structural disadvantage.
However, this narrative misses an important point. Unlike the US presidential election, our general elections are instead 650 local, constituency elections. In each constituency, the electoral battle is realistically always going to be a two-horse race – but there is no reason for each local election to be between the same two parties everywhere. For instance, at the 2024 election
refused to condemn the “Globalise the Intifada” phrase, yet many on the le are complicitly silent in promoting political violence which supports their cause.
Charlie Kirk did believe his political opposition should have human rights, and he died bravely debating those he disagreed with. He knew that it is war, not politics, which asserts that ‘Might makes Right’.
As his Christian Conservative movement su ers a major setback, genuine Fascists have emerged, attempting to ll the
in rural North Herefordshire, the Greens’ Ellie Chowns decisively beat a Conservative incumbent. Four independent MPs elected last year won on the basis of support for Gaza, defeating Labour in urban strongholds with large Muslim populations.
In the next election, we could easily see this go further, with a range of smaller le wing parties re%ecting the concerns of local voters, challenging Reform and securing seats across the country. But the same parties wouldn’t be able to win everywhere–ending the traditional picture of the two ‘broad church’ parties, Labour and the Conservatives, competing for every seat.
THE IMPACT OF SOCIAL MEDIA
Nationally successful parties, however, still have some advantages. ey can deploy far more resources – in terms of both campaign funds and activists – and can capture media attention in a way smaller parties cannot. But in the 21st century, this is becoming less signi cant as social media allows politicians to bypass traditional media, such as national broadcasters and news-
void on the right. Will le ist phraseology moderate such a void, or will it further defeat their own goals? Reductio ad hitlerums have drastically increased in the past decade, yet the Republican Party has continued to dominate politics.
Charlie Kirk understood that “you can tell a lot about a person by how they react when someone dies.” He was controversial and opinionated, yet massively popular. Are we to presume our opponents are bad people, or those trying to build a better world?
papers. Evidence already suggests that many more people in Britain – and across the world – turn to social media for the news, as TV and print media see their relevance decline.
is has profound rami cations in practice. In Zohran Mamdani’s campaign to be the Democratic nominee for New York City mayor, we saw how an insurgent, anti-establishment candidate can use social media to drive a campaign.
If smaller parties in the UK can use these same techniques to build a social media presence, traditional media’s focus on the major parties will become irrelevant, and various lewing groups will be able to win across the country.
PARLIAMENT IN 2029
But if these di erent parties arrive in Westminster, following the election scheduled for 2029, how will they coordinate a cohesive programme for government? We have already seen serious ruptures in Your Party; divisions in the Greens were laid out in full view during their leadership election; and even the Liberal Democrats saw concerns raised over their leader’s tactics at the party conference in Bournemouth. If le -wing parties are not even on the same page internally, there seems little chance of them agreeing a formal coalition.
Indeed, all three political parties come from very di erent ideological positions. For example, the independent MP and potential Your Party leading gure, Adnan Hussein, does not support trans women accessing women’s spaces, putting him at odds with Zarah Sultana and the Greens. e new Green leader, Zack Polanski, suggests Britain ought to leave NATO, a signi cant departure from the Liberal Democrats’ more supportive approach.
However, where le -wing MPs do agree, they have already demonstrated their ability to work together. For instance, they have dra ed a bill calling for an independent public inquiry into UK involvement in the attacks on Gaza. If large numbers of le -wing MPs from di erent parties are elected at the next election, perhaps rather than a formal coalition, they could continue this more %exible arrangement. By working together when they agree and sticking to their principles when they don’t, they may be able to deliver real change while remaining true to their values.
East German Women – More an Just the ‘Losers’
Lizzie Dacombe Contributing Writer
Laura Liu Illustrator
Discourse about the East German legacy reiterates the same themes: the lingering economic and political divide, whether women “had it better” under the East German Regime (GDR), and the portrayal of East German women as the “losers” of reuni cation. Such narratives reduce East German identity to a teleological story of decline spiralling towards 1989, and cast individuals as valuable only for understanding the state’s collapse.
is perspective renders women as passive victims of reunication. Rather than debating which system was better, I want to look beyond such one-dimensional views to explore how East German women expressed themselves politically and culturally outside the state framework.
THE SITUATION OF EAST GERMAN WOMEN IN THE 1970s
By the 1970s, the Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED) had shi ed from increasing women’s employment and education to addressing the friction between motherhood and women’s employment. ese policies, ‘Muttipolitik’ (Mommy policy), hoped to counter low birth rates and the continued labour shortage by making motherhood more attractive. Women were guaranteed a year of maternity leave with the ability to return to their jobs, as well as leave for housework and to provide care. State daycares also expanded. Indeed, these policy interventions did push women and mothers into the workforce: by 1989, the East German workforce was 49% female, despite around 91% of East German women being biological mothers.
East Germany had made leaps and bounds in the econom-
ic emancipation of women: they no longer had to choose between a career and motherhood. Interestingly, the reforms encouraged women to be less dependent on men due to the expansive welfare state.
FEMALE AUTONOMY AND COMMUNITY BUILDING
It was in the 1980s that women began to organise themselves, initially under the auspices of the Protestant Church.
One of the better-known wom-
that their calls for equal rights could be hijacked by the state to justify increasing militarisation and hostility.
at same year, the rst independent lesbian group in the GDR was founded. Lesben in der Kirche (Lesbians in the Church, LiK) was the rst effort to increase visibility and normalisation of female ho-
It
for education and open discussion on various themes, but perhaps most remarkable was the 1987 festival in its theme of ‘power in relationships’. rough these Women’s Festivals, attendees could access the language and framework to discuss sensitive topics like sexuality and violence, which remained highly restricted by the state.
community and space for exploration and self-expression.
CONCLUDING REMARKS
Of course, there is some explanation for the neglect of East German women from the historical narrative. In the years following reuni cation, many East German activists retreated from political activity, feeling increasingly disillusioned with the absorption into the newly uni ed Germany. is was particularly true for women and lesbian activists.
East German women in particular have been unfairly labelled as “losers”, ignoring how they existed alongside, in opposition to, but most importantly, independently from the state.
en’s groups that grew was Frauen für den Frieden (Women for Peace). Formed in 1982 as a women’s peace group, it emerged in response to the new military act expanding conscription to women. eir petition to Honecker, with over 150 signatures (a large number for the time), stated that female conscription was in “contradiction to their femininity”, not an expression of gender equality. It was a statement of refusal
was not just about outlining goals for the political movement, but a longer-term ambition to build a lasting community and space for exploration and self-expression. Read the full article online.
mosexuality. rough lectures, discussions, and even guest visits, LiK was crucial in the conception of lesbianism as a political identity in East Germany. eir work to connect queer women, who had suppressed their feelings as unnatural, was key in fostering a network of women who could realise the normality of their desires.
e Women’s Festivals in Dresden (1985-1987) were a space
Frau Anders cultivated the vibrant community of women that had developed in the 1980s through amusing illustrations, articles, readers’ letters, and event notices. Distributed from friend to friend, it deepened the personal networks that were the foundations of the East German women’s movement. e zine also represented a more light-hearted side of the movement in its role as a space for playfulness and to explore identity and its possibilities, as women, lesbians, mothers, and even as socialists. It was not just about outlining goals for the political movement, but a longerterm ambition to build a lasting
Only recently have we begun to reappraise East Germany as a society with autonomous people, culture, and history, rather than a monolithic police state. East German women in particular have been unfairly labelled as “losers”, ignoring how they existed alongside, in opposition to, but most importantly, independently from the state. ey were never passive, and although they did su er more than most in the reuni cation process, we continue to do them a disservice by retrospectively marginalising them from our understandings of both East German and modern German cultural and historical development.
THIS MULTIMEDIA SPREAD WAS DESIGNED AND CREATED WITH EACH
WHY DID YOU END UP GOING TO LSE?
INSPIRATIONS: JAPANESE BAUHAUS/ BRUTALIST ARCHITECTURE, INTERPLAY BETWEEN TYPOGRAPHY WITH PHOTOGRAPHIC ELEMENTS
OLIVER CHAN YEAR 3 LAW
There was an undercurrent belief among the interviewees of security in academia versus instability in the arts. Serena echoes her fathers words, “only the top 1% of the art world actually succeed in life”, which renders art as an unsustainable long-term career. Though Luoyi comments that the ‘starving artist’ trope is a “misconception”, its dominance in mainstream narratives, coupled with cultural stigma and the current state of the art industry, does not exactly act in its favour.
Serena expands on her father’s statement, stating that despite her French mother’s encouragement (having attended fashion school), her father considered “education [as the] only tool for social mobility” – an anxiety grounded in having grown up in rural communist China, compounded only by what Oliver describes as the stubborn, uncontestable nature of “traditional Asian beliefs” surrounding academic prestige. Recognising the privilege in attending a private school that her parents worked hard to pay for, Serena further felt she should be striving for “a good return on investment” by taking advantage of the opportunities academia opens up. Oliver expresses a similar flial piety, saying that “I do want to provide for my parents because I really appreciate the stuff that they’ve done despite their nagging” with a more ‘traditionally academic’ degree like law, promising job security to achieve these goals.
CONSIDERED STUDYING GRAPHIC DESIGN
Serena additionally refects on the signifcance of employment security in an era of AI proliferation, which, in her opinion, has stunted artists as they “have to adapt to AI” irrespective of their ethical and economic concerns. For Jessica, she comments on the necessity of being an ‘all-rounder’ if you want to get into game design: that needing to know how to 3D rig, illustrate backgrounds, and beyond was “too intense”. This underscores how creatives are doubly pressured to conform to overwhelming expectations just to be devalued by AI.
Another fear all the interviewees conveyed was that attending art school would corrupt their passion. Alongside dejectedly feeling they would ”just be average” or “not good enough”, they also cite various ‘art school horror stories’ as deterrents. Though Serena often feels envious of her home friends who ended up going to art school, she sympathises with their cutthroat environment where art becomes a matter of “fnishing assignments on time rather than expressing themselves creatively”. It can also become suffocating when “art is everywhere and defnes your career and personality”, as Jessica puts it. Art is constantly scrutinised and arbitrarily judged by a curriculum, or cheapened in meaning upon being monetised. Recognising the “detrimental impact” art school would have on her self-esteem, Luoyi sees her decision to study psychology at LSE as a healthy “combination” of her interests and academics in getting to “understand people and the mechanisms behind creativity and sustainability”.
INSPIRATIONS: CONCEPT ART FROM INNOVATIVE 3D ANIMATION EG. INTO THE SPIDERVERSE, ARCANE, THE BAD GUYS, PUSS IN BOOTS
Artists at LSE are like a amongst the sea of suit-wearing, sessed fnance bros. While aggeration, it does raise the creatively inclined tense, specialist social
In conversation with four at LSE, this spread aims to er and how they retain their amidst the tidal waves
Scan the QR code the full article more about the
SPREAD
BY SYLVAIN CHAN
LUOYI SHEN YEAR 3 PSYCHOLOGY CONSIDERED FASHION SCHOOL
a pearl in an oyster suit-wearing, career-obWhile this may be an exquestions about why attend such an inscience university.
four different artists to investigate wheththeir creative passions waves of academics.
code to read article and learn the artists!
HOW DO CONTINUE TO ENJOY ART WITHIN AND OUTSIDE OF LSE?
As a certifed “internet kid”, Jessica describes a thrill from participating in online fandom communities and drawing fanart for the “sheer love of the game”, despite no longer being interested in being a ‘big-name online artist’ as she once aspired towards.
Serena, however, refects on her wavering relationship with art. Having put art aside to focus on her conditional offer to LSE, art has since played a less prominent role in her life. She fnds that what was once a way to “decompress” has since become obsolete upon entering university, having evolved into spending time with friends, going on walks, and playing games. Now equipped with a different support system, she did not fnd the need to “retreat back into art” as she once did.
JESSICA CHAN
YEAR 2 ECONOMICS CONSIDERED GAME DESIGN AS A CHARACTER ARTIST
Luoyi struggled with adjusting to a predominantly non-artistic environment, missing how accessible the weekly studio sessions her high school had provided were – “the hard part is making time for it ... because it’s no longer built into your curriculum”. As such, she turned to exploring London and extracurriculars as stimuli: from visiting art galleries, to attending a short course on life drawing at the University of Arts London, to taking on marketing roles within societies - now currently the LSESU Visual Arts Society’s president.
Oliver expands on this by lamenting how his skillset essentially prepared him to become a valuable asset in university clubs, jokingly describing LSE’s social sciences environment as his “saving grace” as he may not have been able to compete as strongly in UCL with its more diverse artistic talent.
ARE YOU SATISFIED WITH YOUR DECISION?
Quite conclusively, all the artists said they were satisfed with their decision to attend LSE. In their eyes, pursuing an academic degree did not inherently mean abandoning the passion they had grown up with. Instead, it was a welcome challenge in adaptation, building networks of support, and seeking creative outlets.
To those whose heart and brain are in limbo, Serena recommends to “take the path that opens the most doors for you right now, (... as you) can always pursue art down the road”.
SPORT
EDITED BY EMERSON LAM & HARRY ROBERTS
Women On and O the Track in Formula One
Written by Chloé Cerisier
Women’s sports have surged ahead in recent years, experiencing considerable advancements across the eld. Yet, one arena remains stubbornly untouched by this progress — Formula One. e motorsport racing series is still principally male-dominated: in fact, in its 75 years of existence, Formula One has never seen a female driver compete for a full season, despite there being no rule that women cannot race alongside their male counterparts. But, with the formation of the female-only F1 Academy in 2023, rising numbers of women studying motorsport engineering and an ever-growing female F1 fanbase, there are promising signs that the landscape of Formula One may nally be shi!ing.
Formula One has always been an unforgiving sport, where the margin for error is in milliseconds, and even the most talented drivers can be failed by mediocre equipment.
For women, the challenges are compounded by other cultural and institutional biases. Securing sponsorship, crucial in motorsport, was especially di cult for female drivers. Teams were reluctant to take risks on women, and sponsors balked at the idea of investing in them. So, even when they did make it to the grid, female drivers found themselves in underperforming cars compared to their male counterparts and teammates. ey constantly had to prove themselves and overcome the stereotypes they were subjected to.
!is is where the F1 Academy, run by Susie Wol , comes into play. Founded in 2023, F1 Academy is the new female-only racing series for drivers aged 16 to 25, introduced as an entry point to get into Formula One. It o%ers 18 female drivers a platform to perform and nancially secure a future in professional racing. A liated with top Formula One teams, these drivers compete across 14 races on iconic Formula One circuits for a funded seat in the following year’s Formula 3 GB3 Championship. Beyond competition, the Academy also partners with schools through the ‘Discover Your Drive’ program, aiming to inspire young girls and address the sport’s gender gap. Following the launch of F1 Academy, there was an increase from 2.5% to 9% of girls competing in karting, which is where drivers get their start before the formula leagues.
Women are also involved in Formula One through fandom. Social media, the Net"ix program 'Drive to Survive', 'F1: e Movie', and other initiatives helped raise interest among women. Last July, Formula One released its 2025 Fan Survey, which revealed a shi! toward a young female fan base. Forbes also now estimates women to represent over 40% of the total Formula One fanbase. is trend is well understood by racing teams, who are now collaborating with brands like Charlotte Tilbury, La Roche Posay or Shark Beauty to appeal to this newfound audience. Just recently, as Taylor Swi! released her new album e Life of a Showgirl, many teams such as McLaren, Williams, and Mercedes went on TikTok to talk about the tracks or endorse its aesthetic.
Despite Formula One acknowledging and embracing this female fanbase, misogyny in the community remains prevalent, with women o!en dismissed as being super cial. For example, Christian Horner, former Red Bull Racing team principal, once said that:
Formula One is "bringing in a lot of young girls because of all these great-looking young drivers."
!e reality is, the history of women and the automobile is characterized from its earliest days by men deciding what they think women feel. Women were banned from various racing categories because they were considered emotionally unable to deal with the stress. ey were ignored by auto companies when asking for safer cars, and instead were given the Dodge La Femme, a pink car that came with a matching handbag and lipstick holder.
!ey are now ignored or ridiculed in the racing sphere because many men think girls actually don’t like sports. And it is time for these stereotypes to go.
Genuine equality in Formula One will only be achieved when women’s passions, talent, and expertise are recognized as legitimate and indispensable to the sport, on and o% the track. e road ahead remains challenging, but the growing momentum proves that women’s place in F1 is not a question of possibility, but of persistence.
Goodbye to the Klopp era: A Heartfelt Adieu to Liverpool’s Summer Departures
is gender disparity in Formula One is being recti ed beyond the driver position, with signi cant progress made on bridging the gap in technical and strategic positions. From 2021 to 2024, McLaren Racing and Mercedes went respectively from 5% and 6% to 10% of their team’s technical employees being women. ese statistics mirror a larger rise in the number of women studying motorsport engineering, with Higher Education Statistics Agency (HESA) data showing a doubling of the number of female students from 2019 to 2023. Even though these numbers remain low and barriers persist for women wanting to work in engineering, we are still witnessing some attempts at employing more women in the teams, and some on the 2025 season are worth mentioning. For example, this year, Haas has appointed the rst-ever female race engineer, Lara Muller, who is working with Formula One driver Esteban Ocon this season. e team also appointed Carine Cridelich as their Head of Strategy.
Written by EUGENE WONG
Illustrated by SYLVAIN CHAN
For veteran Rreds accustomed to Fenway Sports Group’s (FSG) tightpurse spending, Liverpool’s summer has been nothing short of a blessing. Splashing the cash in buying players from Hugo Ekitike and Alexander Isak to German superstar Florian Wirtz, Liverpool has le! rival fans lamenting about Liverpool’s excessive spending.
While it is true that the club has spent a fortune strengthening their champion-calibre squad, the media o!en overlooks the large number of summer departures who played a crucial part in Liverpool’s campaign last season.
With that in mind, this article hopes to re ect on the impact of these departures, showing gratitude for their roles and memories in front of the Kop.
Memories of the 20/21 and 22/23 seasons are unlikely to bring a smile on Liverpool fans’ faces, but this year saw the departure of many bright spots in what would have been otherwise quite gloomy times, as Liverpool failed to nish in the top three in both of those seasons. Nathaniel Phillips will be much missed for his past heroics, lling in Van Dijk's shoes when
the captain was out and joining the elite group of players having the honour of defending successfully against Zlatan Ibrahimovic. Kostas Tsimikas also served as the loyal understudy for Andy Robertson, earning the name “Greek Scouser” for his antics in Liverpool’s domestic cup double in 21/22. !is represents the di culties faced by players around the age of 26-30 in big clubs who are not guaranteed starters, with them hitting their ceiling for improvement while not being good enough to start games regularly.
Darwin Nunez and Luis Diaz were both brought in as replacements for Liverpool’s iconic front three of Salah, Mane, and Firmino, hoping that they would mould perfectly into the system. Luiz Diaz impressed in his debut season, propelling Liverpool to a Quadruple attempt, but his Liv erpool career will always be marred by his knee injury later in the 22/23 season, where he never regained the speed and he initially showed. Nunez had moments of ex cellence, such as the brace that li Liverpool over Newcastle, the brace against Brentford, and the assist to Elliot against PSG. !ere was no doubt that he had the passion, talent, and speed to make it on the big stage, but his lack of re nement and temperament ultimately le him as just another “what-if” in the rich history of Liverpool’s number 9's.
!is represents another major
A Meandering Story of in London
Written by JOE CARD
Life in London is a signi a campus in the centre of one of the world’s largest and most cosmopolitan cities, it's very easy to feel like a !sh out of water. One of the perennial top tips for Freshers is to take up a sport to help you settle in, meet people, and keep up with exercise, now that the routines of school P.E. are gone. But that’s easier said than done ...
step in the transition from Slot to Klopp, where many of the aforementioned players made up the bulk of Klopp’s nal season in charge. !eir departure, then, waves another goodbye to the remnants of Klopp’s tenure, along with the many memories they brought with them.
!e 23/24 Carabao Cup nal was undoubtedly the peak of Klopp’s youth strategy, one where Klopp’s kids played a crucial role in their ascent to champions, beating Chelsea once again in a Wembley nal. Homegrown talents such as Conor Bradley, Kelleher, and Harvey Elliot stepped in their mentors’ shoes, starting the game and forcing it into extra time a er a tight 90 minutes. With the bench being depleted due to the lack of starters, other Merseyside talents such as Jarell Quansah, Bobby Clark, James McConnell, and Jayden Danns came in, providing fresh legs as Van Dijk’s late header sealed the game for Liverpool. !is was arguably the zetrademark strategy of promoting and training young talents, moulding them into serving his philosophy of heavy metal football.
Unfortunately, most of these names have departed Merseyside this summer.
Read Eugene's full article online!
Even commuting can be a joy if you’re lucky enough to live near one of London’s cycle superhighways. A network of segregated cycle lines crisscrossing the city, they’re well maintained, relatively direct, and very useful routes just a world away from the meandering lanes I was used to.
!roughout my childhood, my favourite sport had always been cycling. I never really enjoyed the team sports we were forced into at school, but I always enjoyed myself on my bike – whether o" on my own, with friends, or with my Dad.. When lockdown came in 2020, cycling almost became a daily ritual, as it was one of the only reasons we were allowed to leave the house. Even once the world began returning to normal, I kept going, exploring the quiet country roads and farm tracks around my house. is ceased to be an option when I arrived in London.
!e infamous central London tra c meant that I never cycled further than the 10 minutes from Carr Saunders Hall to my lectures for most of rst year, dodging buses and weaving between taxis – hardly an enjoyable or relaxing experience. But, I soon learned there’s far more to cycling here.
Once you get out of the noise and stress of Aldwych and Holborn,
there are wonderful routes o the busy streets all over the city, from the Regent’s Canal towpath to the trail along the River Lea in East London.
!en, there’s the spectacular feeling of cycling over Waterloo Bridge late at night when there are no cars, just incredible views of St Paul’s and the Houses of Parliament.
If my sales pitch for inner city cycling isn’t working, just get out of London! I was recently dragged away from a peaceful Sunday bed-rotting to join a friend cycling down to Brighton. While the endless London suburbs were an inauspicious start, we soon reached the unbelievable viewpoint at the top of Farthing Down, just inside the M25. Surrounded by the gently rolling hills of Surrey, it was easy to forget London and the anxieties of returning to campus, instead reviving a connection with nature I’ve missed since my regular countryside rides at home over the summer.
Longer distances like that shouldn’t be taken lightly, though. By the time we arrived in Brighton, we were both thoroughly worn out despite taking regular breaks, and very ready to grab a takeaway to eat on the train back to London. Make sure you’ve done your research about the route you want to take, bring snacks, and have a backup plan in case things go wrong. !e route we chose, for instance, largely followed the train line, giving us multiple opportunities to bail and go home in the event of technical di culties.
Cycling around London and making the most of the countryside nearby is an excellent way to get some exercise and take a much-needed study break. !ere are lots of ways to enjoy it too, whether alone or with friends, for hours at a time or for a quick 30 minutes. But it’s also a way to stay in touch with a hobby many of us enjoyed when we were kids at a stage in life when it feels very easy to lose track of yourself!
SOCIAL!
EDITED BY AMELIA HANCOCK & AASHI BAINS
South Asian or ‘Scandinavian’ Fashion Under Scrutiny
Written by AASHI BAINS
Illustrated by LAURA LIU
Cultural appropriation in fashion refers to using elements of a culture in ways that misrepresent it, and this is by no means a new issue in the industry. Runway fashion has frequently been criticised for poaching elements of cultural dress and integrating them in ways that lack appreciation, o en to diversify new collections.
Over the last year, designs, fabrics, and jewellery originating from the South Asian region have dominated the biggest of stages, raising concerns of tokenistic cultural inspiration. During Milan Fashion Week in June 2025, Prada unveiled sandals that were strikingly similar to Indian ‘Kolhapuri chappal’ sandals. us, major fashion houses like Prada found themselves amid this long-running controversy: borrowing cultural ideas without proper attribution.
However, it’s no longer just runway fashion that is using cultural elements
Eat the Rich? Or Follow Them?
Written by AMELIA HANCOCK
Illustrated by SYLVAIN CHAN
Videos of Indonesian MPs dancing in parliament a er approving a rise in their housing allowance went viral on social media. e scenes of celebration are starkly contrasted with the harsh reality that the population faces, with 60.3% of the country living below the World Bank’s poverty line. is footage sparked nationwide protests against what many call a ‘corrupt elite’. Government buildings and police headquarters have been set ablaze, and o cials’ houses have been looted, leaving the country in a state of disarray. With housing allowances now more than ten times the minimum wage, and budget cuts and industry closures leaving thousands jobless, it’s no surprise that anger towards the rich is growing.
e phrase ‘eat the rich’ was rst used by French President Chaumette to criticise the nobility, and then gained greater popularity a er the French Revolution. Today, it is used in response to growing wealth inequality and food insecurity, fronting countless campaigns. During South Africa’s 2021 local government elections, it appeared as a campaign slogan, and in 2023, United Auto Workers president Shawn Fein adopted the phrase in the ght for increased wages and bene ts. e growing outrage towards the e%ects of capitalism is echoed in these phrases and movements. Yet on the same platforms we see this outrage, millions tune in to watch in uencers and celebrities aunt their luxury lifestyles.
If inequality sparks protest, why does wealth still hold our attention?
In her rst year on TikTok, Becca Bloom gained over 3.5 million followers. Her videos feature Van Cleef jewellery and caviar breakfasts, yet her comments are lled with praise, branding her as ‘humble’ and ‘lovable’. Maybe it’s her so -spoken nature, or perhaps it’s the way she explains nancial advice as dating scenarios that make her luxury feel relatable. e same paradox has fuelled the rise of reality television. ‘ e Real Housewives’ Franchise has been
to capture audience interest. South Asian-inspired fashion has become more widespread: from mainstream media to everyday online shopping platforms, cultural appropriation is hard to avoid.
e 2025 Met Gala was at the centre of this debate, as Punjabi singer and actor Diljit Dosanjh made his rst appearance at the festival. Dosanjh elegantly sought to recreate the attire of a former Maharaja of Patiala, from Punjab, India. e extravagant look was praised and dissected endlessly online, revealing historical details of the out t and crediting designers.
What was most interesting about these online discussions was the focus placed on a piece of jewellery that the Maharaja of Patiala had commissioned: the largest necklace that Cartier had ever created. Fans were quick to critique the absence of this necklace in his Met Gala look. Despite the necklace now being archived in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, it was worn a few years prior at the Met Gala by social media star Emma Chamberlain. Cartier reportedly used archival reasons for denying Dosanjh’s team the necklace. But learning about the decision to let Emma Chamberlain wear it as a brand ambassador makes me wonder about wider discussions of who is permitted to showcase culturally and historically signi cant jewellery.
It’s not just celebrity events that are at the heart of this debate; online fashion trends are also beginning to showcase controversy.
Continue reading Aashi’s analysis online!
ongoing for nearly 20 years, with 31 versions and 21 spino% shows, turning the lives of a uent women into entertainment. Likewise, the Kardashian family has kept their lifestyle as a spectacle, with season ve of ‘ e Kardashians’ reaching 3.9 million viewers within four days of its premiere on Hulu.
Our fascination with wealth isn’t new; it’s just rebranded. e Golden Age of Hollywood also entranced its audiences, celebrated for its elegance and high fashion. Stars like Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn became symbols of style, inspiring women to emulate Old Hollywood glamour through elegant dresses and sophisticated accessories. eir lives were made into public spectacles by gossip columns. Louella Parsons reported on the lavish parties they attended, detailing guest lists, out ts, and dating rumours. Her daily column appeared in over 400 newspapers and reached upwards of 20 million readers, giving her audiences a window into the exclusive lives of the elite.
While Hollywood was producing images of luxury and success, much of America was su ering from unemployment and uncertainty. ese two worlds couldn’t have been more distant, but for Americans they provided an escape and a dream. Social comparison theory, rst proposed by psychologist Leon Festinger, helps explain this fascination. Individuals instinctively compare themselves with people they perceive as superior to create a more positive perception of their personal reality. For audiences, comparing themselves to the rich o%ers them a vision of a better life.
e videos of Indonesian MPs dancing sparked out rising inequality, but even in anger, we keep watch wealthy. From Hollywood icons to content crea reality TV stars, audiences have long been drawn lives of the rich. So while ‘eat the rich’ has be come a political slogan in response to capitalism and corruption, it seems our fascination with the rich makes us follow them instead.
Autumn Fashion Around LSE Dating Across the Pond: Does American Boldness
Make the British Seem Too Polite to Flirt?
Written by RESTLESS NYU EXCHANGE STUDENT
Illustrated by LAURA LIU
Dating in the city is not for the weak. A er experiencing dating life as a university student in two of the biggest cities in the world – New York City and London – I have come to my favourite student publication with re ections on both. In NYC, every waking moment is an opportunity to nd your next situationship – whether that is casually catching the eye of the cute volleyball player in Central Park or grabbing a co ee with the tall guy in your astronomy class. London, on the other hand, is a city of politeness and reading between the lines – you wouldn’t know if you were on a date or just having a polite conversation over a pint. If irting were an art, the Brits have created the minimalist movement. My rst month in NYC has been more eventful than my entire last year in London, feeling like a sh out of water pursued by every man who was too bold for his own good.
In the city that never sleeps, American men are just as restless, always looking to buy you your next drink. With pockets as deep as my trust issues, they are seemingly willing to empty their entire trust funds to take you out on a nice sushi date or charm you on their Upper East Side roo ops and dive bars.
And damn does it work. %ough some British men are capable of doing just the same, they prefer to be a lot more casual on their dates, with a cute co ee or one drink and calling it a day. From the consensus of the people around me, Brits are not willing to inconvenience themselves and go out of their way to treat you; Americans, on the other hand, very much are. %e di erence does not lie in material wealth, but rather in generosity.
%e nature of American colleges enables their boldness in irtation, with frat parties forcing brothers to invite girls as their dates and nights like Champagne and Shackles’ forcing you to be zip-tied to the cute engineer junior. And being at NYU doesn’t even scratch the surface of what traditional colleges like ‘Bama’ have to o er. American college students are experiencing ‘exposure therapy’ to irting on a daily basis, shaping a bold bunch of serial irters.
To give my home uni its credit, LSE is not without its fun, contrary to what the other unis may think of us. On the topic of dating, more people nd their dates through friends of friends, casual pub nights out, and drunkenly irting on a Sway night out. People are more reserved, focused on internships, and meeting someone happens once in a blue moon. But when you do, it’s unexpected and all the more exciting.
Maybe it’s the element of studying abroad that makes me take on more opportunities than I usually would – a er all, my grades do not count towards my degree, so why not indulge in some reckless dating? At the end of the day, dating is what you make of it, and being in a certain country doesn’t mean you’ll automatically meet the right man. In the meantime, I will be sitting in my tiny NYU dorm room, decoding my roo op boy’s “let’s do it again soon” text with my roommates.
PART B
EDITED BY SHAHZAIB KHAN & ZARA NOOR
A Bankside Story
Written by RONAK MAITI
Illustrated by by APRIL YANG
Have you read this? says Hana. She holds up a copy of ‘ !e Brothers Karamazov’ from the shelf above my desk.
Yeah, I reply, sitting at my desk and opening my laptop. My Hinduism teacher recommended it when I was doing my GCSEs. Decent book. I leave out that I stopped reading it 200 pages in, having never really understood what I’d read.
!at’s impressive, she says. I’ve read ‘White Nights’. She moves closer to my chair, and takes out another book. Tell me about this one.
I look up. She’s holding ‘Gödel, Escher, Bach’. I bought that book in sixth form on a date with my ex. Don’t remember, I say. Never got into it.
She tuts knowingly. I watch her while my computer logs me in. Her hair is damp - she took a shower an hour ago. She’s wearing navy sweatpants and a Pacsun halter top. She looks good. She turns her attention to my desk, and her black hair hangs in thick strands over her pale face.
We had met on move-in day in the Bankside basement. We’d been going to the club nights together, and then to my room a erwards to talk and do the NYT games. It’s now the third night of Freshers’ Week; we didn’t make it into Lightbox because the line never moved forward. I prefer the later parts of the night, anyway.
You know, I say, you’re the only Japanese person I’ve ever met.
She’s also the rst non-English girl I’ve ever really spoken to. I’m from South Shields. My family were the only non-white people for miles, except for a Chinese takeaway in Westoe. In many ways, though, she was similar to Geordie girls. Every girl listens to Lana Del Rey and every girl drinks Sangria. We live in a global culture.
Really? she says, looking down at me and then ‘G.E.B’. She’s close to me now; looking up at her feels too intimate. !at’s so odd. To be fair, there was only, like, one other Japanese person in my school.
Bonn, right?
Mhm. Sie mochten die asiatischen Typen nicht, bro.
She speaks English with an ‘international’ accent; I wonder if her German accent sounds ‘international’ as well. I had been injecting GCSE-level Deutsch throughout our conversations and messages: ich kann dich nicht im club sehen rauchst du draussen??? It entertains her. I nd it fun.
I wish I could talk to her in German uently. Japanese, too. International students are so talented.
You know, you aren’t like other British guys I’ve met. Nobody liked the ones in my school; they were really weird.
It’s because I’m Northern. Most other English people are kinda weird. She laughs drowsily, even though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t understand what I mean by ‘Northern’.
My computer loads and opens on Trackr. I need to nish the OA for Macquarie. At dinner, we talked about some bloke in the year above who had got nine spring week o ers. I didn’t even know what a spring week was a month before getting here. It made me anxious.
At university, we start making lives.
I open JobTestPrep and click on a Korn Ferry numerical test practice. She sits on my bed and scrolls through reels on Instagram.
She yawns. Come and do the Mini with me.
I’m doing a test, Hana.
It’ll be quick. I average, like, 36 seconds. You shouldn’t be doing internship apps at this time, anyway. It’s so ethically reprehensible making kids stay up til 3am doing mental maths - Guter Gott.
Alright, alright.
She de nitely knows I nd her German endearing. I roll backwards in my seat until I’m next to her. She’s lying on her stomach and looking up at me and it makes me anxious. I don’t know where to look so I focus on her phone. We do it in 48 seconds. I get ‘Rolling Stones bassist’ (Wyman), and she gets ‘Sweet, in Calabria’ (Dolce).
Go, then, she says. She’s upset in a teasing way.
It’s pretty late. You might want to go back to your room.
It’s cold outside. Let me stay a bit longer. I’ll be quiet.
I smile and sigh very loudly. Course, Hana.
I start the test while sounds of reels continue behind me. What is the projected annual consumption of gasoline? It takes me a few minutes to notice that the sounds have stopped. A er nishing the test, I look back and see that she is curled up asleep.
I look at her for a few long seconds, before turning back to my computer.
My thoughts have cleared; it takes a minute to remember what I was doing. I nish another practice test, then realise I’m too knackered to do the OA. I look at her again.
Seeing her asleep stirs me. It’s really nice. Not in a creepy way - there’s just something entirely unfamiliar about a person falling asleep in my company. Trusting me enough to. I think my heart’s slowed.
Why does this make me so happy?
I’ll sleep in my chair tonight. I don’t take my contacts out or brush my teeth. I pull my chair up next to this person I barely know, and slump sound asleep beside her.
en we both jolt awake a few minutes later when the re alarm starts to blare.
Kestral Gaian: On Learning to Love London
Written by ZARA NOOR
Illustrated by SYLVAIN CHAN
It appears that student life in London is inevitably shaped by a love-hate relationship with the Tube: seemingly random charges from TFL, post-club eye contact with bankers on their way to work, and the pigeon somehow always inside Euston station. People from all walks of life are brought together, perhaps closer than they’d like at rush hour. It’s no wonder that every tourist and Londoner alike has a story to tell about the Tube.
Driven by the absurdity and diversity of the London Underground, Kestral Gaian’s new poetry collection, ‘Tubelines’, is both comedically sharp and deeply poignant. It launched in London on the 4th of October, and I had the opportunity to hear Kestral introduce their work. I was also able to chat with them about the queer poetry scene, their creative writing process, and most importantly, which Tube line is their favourite.
Growing up as a queer person on a council estate in the Midlands, Kestral’s writing is shaped by the desire for connection in a community that makes you feel di!erent. As many LSE students do, Kestral moved to London for the rst time as an adult and described the initial di culty in making friends and feeling connected to the city. As a non-binary poet, Kestral writes work that is “unapologetically queer”. ey hope through their storytelling and poetry, queer and marginalised people are able to “feel seen”, knowing that – as they put it – “poetry is for everyone”.
‘Tubelines’ is not only about the literal Underground, but also the experiences beneath the cold surface of London that eventually made it feel like home. In Kestral’s words, “the Tube is an amalgamation of people from all walks of life”, and also “a place where ‘people are [at] their weirdest’”, allowing moments of humanity, humour, and honesty. London, from an outside view, has a reputation as a daunting, glamourous city of gilet-wearingnance bros and designer handbags, but it is also true that one trip on the Tube can shatter this illusion. I, for one, have experienced the community spirit (and impromptu karaoke) on the Northern Line during Notting Hill Carnival.
Kestral’s writing is inspired by living experiences, and it is clear to see in their poetry. ‘Really Fucking Old Street’, an intensely funny rant about constant building work, is balanced perfectly with an observation that all of us are a work in progress, really. eir writing is able to transform the banal annoyance at construction into a powerful comment on human nature and change. It is in this incredible ability to nd the connection and wonder in ordinary moments that makes this collection so powerfully honest and de .
eir writing process consisted of carrying a notebook around London, noting down the tender moments, glances, tears, arguments, and fallingdown-stairs incidents that happen every day. Rather than over-formalising what poetry can be, Kestral explains: “I play with genres and forms and write what I feel needs to come out. People should stop gatekeeping
through stu ness. Art is messy and it’s best when it’s messy!”
O en, creative writing and the arts can seem inaccessible, particularly in the career-driven, competitive environment LSE is notorious for. Kestral’s advice is this: “ e absolute hardest thing to do is starting, especially when you’re coming from a results-driven place like LSE. e process is what matters in art, not so much the result, and you’re the only person to who the process should matter to. Writing sometimes is an act of self-care.”
Writing ‘Tubelines’, it seems to me, was an act of self-care for not only Kestral but every visitor and native feeling disillusioned with the city. Taken from the press release, this quote explains it all – “Tubelines is both a journey through a city and a journey through the self. It celebrates everyday magic, transforming ordinary Tube rides and city life into extraordinary upli ing poetry.”
It is a di cult time to be a minority in London, and it is worth remembering to look for the moments of joy in unexpected places.
What next for Kestral? ey’re working on a novel where, as they assured me, all the protagonists are queer, and all the evil characters are straight. Personally, I can’t wait to read it, particularly if it is as insightful, heartwarming, and full of laughter as ‘Tubelines’ and Kestral themselves.
Tear Drenched Towers
Written by TOMMY KING
I gaze on London’s tear-drenched towers, Skylines in the rain, Rivers drowned in pain, Knowing – to be good is to su er.
Your past resides in nameless streets, Today – upon my hood. Your future in the gentle breeze, From clouds of dismay, a droplet of good.
I bear your weight like Sisyphus his boulder, Your sugar-strung breath embracing my shoulder. The towers shrink, then plummet, Without you at their summit.
A tourist pulls her phone out— She saturates the image. Tear-drenched towers through a camera: Morally indi erent.
Wind cuts through my hand; I cannot grasp you here. Me the sieve, you the sand, We touch, you disappear.
Lost on the path between us, No hint, idea, or clue. Tear-drenched towers – hyenas, Mocking my distance from you.
I see a soul in the river. You swim on by, I think. I realise you are drowning, And as you drown, I sink.
My feet fall abruptly back on the land. I smoke by a corner my favourite brand. Exhaling love that time devoured, Goodness fallen like tear-drenched towers.
REVIEW
EDITED BY JESSICA CHAN & IMAN WASEEM
A Useful Ghost: Memory and Power
Written by VARISA SIRISOOK
What does it mean to be useful, and who gets to decide? Writer and director Ratchapoom Boonbunchachoke explores these questions in his debut feature ‘A Useful Ghost’ that took home the 2025 Grand Prize at Cannes Critics’ Week. !e lm blends fantasy and comedy to deliver a moving re ection on memory and a supernatural satire on !ai politics.
It is a stunning, stylised experience delivered by its dreamlike soundtrack and cinematography that holds the audience entranced; but what rst appears to be a charming, unconventional love story transforms into something darker. Strong performances from the cast carry the dramatic dialogue with air, but where the lm shines brightest is the conviction of its narrative and ideas.
‘A Useful Ghost’ follows Nat (Davika Hoorne), a ghost who possesses a vacuum cleaner to stay with her husband, March (Witsarut Himmarat), among the living. Her disapproving in-laws make numerous failed attempts to sever their connection, from an exorcism to electroconvulsive therapy meant to erase March’s memory of her, the source of her presence. Desperate for her husband’s family to accept their relationship, Nat uses her ability to enter dreams in identifying and subduing a vengeful ghost haunting the factory run by March’s mother, Suman (Apasiri Nitibhon). Now celebrated as a ‘useful ghost,’ her ability catches the government’s attention, who assigns her to investigate the general population’s memories for politically inconvenient gures: the victims of the 2010 Bangkok massacre.
Narrated by a mysterious technician (Wanlop Rungkumjad) and the self-identi ed ‘Academic Ladyboy’ (Wisarut Homhuan), whose vacuum cleaner he has come to x, the lm is an ambitious whirlwind through various problems in !ailand, from dust pollution to racism against people from the Isan region. While Nat and March are cisgender and heterosexual, the lm ly draws parallels between them and queer couples in the lm, as well as weaving the struggles queer people face in real life into the
morous jab at bureaucracy, comedy becomes tragedy when they are denied access to Nat’s frozen eggs, their dream of becoming parents seemingly dashed. Although !ailand’s Marriage Equality Act came into e ect in January 2025, this re ects the legal changes still needed to grant same-sex couples the right to fertility treatments.
Against this backdrop of discrimination, ‘A Useful Ghost’ criticises people who serve causes that marginalise them and their communities. While empathising with the desire for opportunities that dominant forces may provide in exchange for compliance, the lm emphasises their conditionality and makes a plea for solidarity. Although Nat initially refuses the government’s request, she agrees when a minister promises to help her and March have their own biological child in return. Her e orts result in scores of people tortured to erase the victims of political violence, both from their ghostly existence and cultural memory.
Nat’s con ict resonates especially during a global rise in authoritarianism, where some members of marginalised communities may support the institutions depriving them of their rights. One example of this may be seen in the case of Kat Cammack, a Republican representative who blamed the reluctance of medical providers to terminate her pregnancy on le ist “fearmongering”, instead of the restrictive abortion laws she sponsored.
While Cammack eventually obtained the services she needed, how many people without her resources and connections are able to circumvent such legal barriers?
By weaving Nat’s tale through conversations between two characters, the lm’s structure reiterates that it is not about one useful ghost or the family she married into. Rather, it includes ordinary people who are rarely lauded for their service and labour, who do not make it into the stories o en told. Shi ing the focus onto these interlocutors, the lm does not end on the tragedy of Nat and March, but explodes in a climax that takes aim at those who silence others and displays the power of the people united.
roughout the lm, Nat and March are denied the rights their marriage granted them during the former’s life. While an early hiccup with visiting hours is played o as a hu-
!ailand’s tumultuous political history continues to be censored, especially when it involves military repression. However, ‘A Useful Ghost’ demonstrates optimism for transparency in discussions of politics and the past, along with solidarity in the search for accountability and change at home and abroad. Just as the lm describes haunting as the deceased’s “protest against their circumstances”, the same applies to the act of remembering those the establishment would rather disappear, ensuring our ghosts are not forgotten.
Saiyaara: A Cultural Reset for Bollywood
Written by SHREYA GUPTA
For years, Bollywood has struggled to deliver a true romantic hit – one with dazzling stars, addictive music, and that essential rollercoaster of emotions that leaves you wrecked and glowing all at once. Nothing will ever replace the lms I grew up on, such as Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, but Saiyaara comes close. !e name itself, meaning “a solitary wandering star” in Urdu and Arabic, captures the lm’s soul perfectly.
I’ll admit, writing this review was partly an excuse to rewatch Saiyaara for the fourth time. But I fully intend to convince you all to watch it, Bollywood lovers and newbies alike.
As the most-watched non-English lm on Net ix right now, Saiyaara marks the debut of Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda. And please, ignore the “nepo baby” accusations about Ahaan – I genuinely believe he has so much potential (and I’m not just saying that because he’s extremely handsome). !eir
on-screen chemistry makes it hard not to hope we’ve !nally found this generation’s Alia Bhatt and Varun Dhawan. e two have since con!rmed they’re dating in real life, which only proves how real that chemistry felt.
e !lm follows Krish Kapoor, an arrogant yet gi ed rockstar, and Vaani Batra, a shy but inspired songwriter. eir collaboration turns into both creative and emotional upheaval. Vaani’s song writing in the !lm is what I believe made this movie one of the highest-grossing roman tic !lms in Indian cinematic history. e !lm’s lyrics are pure poetry, easily the most moving since Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. (And yes, before any Saiyaara fans come for me – Dhun is the best song. No com petition.)
Without spoiling the huge plot twist, the kind that made the entire cinema gasp, I’ll admit the premise sounds familiar: tortured genius meets quiet muse, sparks y, chaos follows. But Saiyaara transforms that cliché into something deeper.
Disclaimer: I am a romantic, so the following statement may be incredibly biased: It’s a portrait of unconditional love and the devastating beauty of emotional vulnerability.
Critics have called the !lm slow, predictable, and even toxic. I disagree. Saiyaara isn’t about glorifying heartbreak – it’s about the process of making art that moves people. e !lm doubles as a quiet critique of today’s “mass-produced” pop, reminding us that music can still be personal and transcendent. At its heart, Saiyaara isn’t just a love story – it’s a reminder of Bollywood’s power to blend art, music, and emotion into something timeless.
e dialogue, especially Vaani’s description of Krish as a Saiyaara, captures this perfectly:
“A wandering star among stars, it travels as if it seeks something. The star is alone, but its shine brings light to everyone.”
Despite her own personal challenges (no spoilers, I promise), Vaani helps Krish rediscover purpose and self-belief, demonstrated by both of their sacri!ce and devotion.
In a time when too many !lms rely on spectacle, Saiyaara dares to slow down – to let silence, melody, and vulnerability do the talking. It’s not perfect, but maybe that’s why it feels so real. And this is precisely why I fell in love with Bollywood in the !rst place.
Now the only question is … Mohit Suri, when do we get Saiyaara 2?
Not an Audiophile: A Review of the Sony XM5s
Written by EMERSON LAM
Out of the many brands that produce headphones nowadays, from Apple and JBL to Soundcore and Nothing, Sony stands out as the producer of high-quality yet reasonably priced headphones.
Having used the Sony WH1000XM5s for a while, I agree with the high praise that many reviewers give it, considering its high audio quality and comfortable feel it provides. Yet, the downsides not only ruin its functionality, but also re ect the state of modern-day headphone use (and, to a larger extent, electronic consumption around the globe).
At a glance, the XM5’s uniformity in the design allows it to look like a standard pair of headphones, not trying to wow the buyer. Although it doesn’t have the foldable design of its predecessor, it still !ts in a neat case that can be decorated with stickers. e padding itself for the ear is also quite comfortable, clearly designed for extended usage. Looking deeper into its functionality, it continues to wow the user with its various technological improvements. e sound quality for playing music and videos is consistently high, with the speaker being able to accurately represent both high-pitched and bass sounds.
Yet, the real standout feature lies in its ANC (Active Noise Cancellation) abilities. Even with the many grievances I have with the product, I have yet to try any other piece of hardware that successfully does noise cancellation like this. It is to the point where when ying on a plane, the outside world is able to be successfully cancelled, and you can feel as if you’re in a concert hall instead of a 12-hour plane ride. is alone helps them stand out from other headphones, creating a substantial market of users.
Unfortunately, this pair of headphones is also plagued by a myriad of issues.
First, you have the pricing.
Listed by e Independent to be priced at around £380 in 2022, this is almost at the price of some mid-range mobile phones. Even though the features o er some explanation for the pricing, it is reasonable to assume that many customers would feel uncomfortable paying this much for a product that could be found at much lower prices.
is leads into the next issue, which is the now notorious problem with the hinges that connect the stereo to the main headphone itself. Even with its high pricing, swarms of users have complained about the hinge breaking, including myself. A er around 1.5 years of usage, the hinge on one side simply gave way, and I could no longer use the headphones. I managed to get it repaired a er bringing it to a repair shop deep inside a tech mall, but the risk of it failing bothered me enough that I simply le it at home and got a new pair of headphones.
To me, this is just one problem in a wider trend of modern-day technology usage.
Why can a product like this fail so easily? Why should we even allow these technology failures to happen?
Prior to these headphones, I had used a large variety of earbuds, from different brands and at di erent price ranges. Many of them o en ended up malfunctioning a er around a year of usage, suddenly being unable to play sound nor connect to my phone. Sure, you can blame it partially on my rough handling of these products, but they simply shouldn’t fail like this a er such a short lifespan. O en with minimal warranty and little repairability, these electronics end up creating large amounts of waste that our planet is simply unable to handle, causing even more problems.
If you’re reading this piece to see if you should purchase this pair of headphones, my advice honestly still ends up being “no”! e risk of breaking it, combined with the high price tag, simply isn’t worth the upsides that this device o ers. Go explore some other headphones in the ev er-expanding electronics market, and I’m sure you’ll !nd another pair that suits you better.
PuLSE: Music, DJing, and Community
interview by SKYE SLATCHER
In 2025, it sometimes feels like everyone is a DJ. But no one is doing it quite like PuLSE – LSESU’s o!cial radio and DJ society. Anyone who has ever set foot in the Media Centre (MC) will undoubtedly have heard someone in the booth playing music, whether on the radio or just practicing. I recently sat down to speak with some of the PuLSE team to learn more about the group the Beaver shares the MC with!
For most people, thinking of the London School of Economics does not exactly trigger thoughts of music, fun, and creativity. Rather, most would think of late-night library sessions or growing lists of incomplete readings. However, PuLSE has rmly planted itself as one of the core pillars of campus appreciation for nightlife and DJing.
Letho, this year’s President, joined PuLSE a er becoming a fan of electronic music during his gap year:
“I wanted a space to continue that in uni. So I remember finding the Instagram and seeing like, ‘oh, it’s really cool. They put on club nights, people DJ, people are into it.’ So it was one of the things that I was really excited about before I came to LSE.”
Suchir (Events Manager) was interested in DJing before joining LSE and said it was clear from Instagram that it was a well-run and cohesive society. And the reality did not disappoint: “It’s just a very lovely community of like-minded people. I guess for me, I didn’t come into it from a DJing perspective. I wasn’t really that interested in DJing when I started, even though I do DJ now … I was like, oh, this looks cool … I think this would be a good gateway into [techno and electronic], because I remember being over the freshers music.”
One of PuLSE’s major achievements has been cultivating a genuine music community at LSE. In a university known for its corporate pipeline, fostering a space for creative expression is no small feat. Letho said that PuLSE is in many ways a response to the wider uni atmosphere. “You can come here, even if it’s just to study here or DJ, or go to the event, or just speak to everyone, it’s a rest from the whole environment in a very unconditional way.”
The only requirement to join PuLSE is to be a nice person.
Abe’s experience, as this year’s Secretary, has certainly lived up to that description. He was most keen on nding a community that celebrated creativity in any way, whether that be music, art, or graphic design. Having grown up around music, he had always had a connection to the creative. In the rst few months of his time at LSE, he felt (as many of us do) that it was kind of hard to express that side. It was this that got him initially interested in PuLSE, but what made him stay was
the community: “We know that we’re all here to nd some sort of like, solace from the rest of LSE that might kind of be a bit dull sometimes.”
Camelia, the Treasurer, did not consider herself a particularly creative person before. She joined PuLSE as a space to meet people without expectations of networking. It is a space free from LinkedIn and spring week talk every ve minutes. It is also an incredibly inclusive space, which Abe emphasised. ey celebrate and welcome everyone.
PuLSE recently had their rst event of the year –a sold-out night at Corsica. Another incredible event and the ideal way to kick o the year. Abe’s rst time DJing at the iconic venue was understandably nerve-wracking, but as he played a set of his favourite music with his close friends next to him, his time on the decks went down a treat:
“We’re all enjoying the music together. That was what was most important. And a!er the set, people would come up to me and [say], ‘you did an amazing job.’ That was such a good feeling … I was just really happy with that.”
PuLSE will be back at Corsica towards the end of Autumn Term, with more events at di erent venues before then.
PuLSE also o ers workshops for those new to DJing. “Speaking to other unis and other like uni DJ presidents, I think that's the one thing we do that most others don't tend to do,” says Letho. For new members, there is space to practice, and as they gain con dence, they can then play smaller events before building up to something like Corsica or the SU’s Summer Ball. At its core, PuLSE gives new members a space to make new friends, explore their creativity, and feel deeply supported. Suchir emphasised that they are all just a bunch of friends.
Some quick questions...
What is your favourite show you’ve ever been to?
Abe: Honey Dijon at Drumshed (for my birthday)
Suchir: Acid Pauli in One Marylebone Church
Letho: First ever club night at TOYTOY in Johannesburg
Camelia: Parallel at Patterns in Brighton
What is your favourite venue in London?
Letho, Camelia, and Suchir: Corsica
Abe: The Cause
What about your least favourite?
Camelia: The Cause
Suchir: Simmons Leicester Square
Letho: XOYO
Abe: Egg
If you could open for any artist, who would it be?
Camelia: Conducta
Abe: horsegiiLl
Letho: MARRØN
Suchir: anyone in Dubstep
pulse’s recs
By the end of my time chatting with Letho, Camelia, Abe, and Suchir, I was definitely thinking about joining PuLSE. Inclusivity, creativity, and fun – the MC is full of those things. If you find yourself reading this and about to buy your PuLSE membership, I look forward to seeing you around the MC (and hearing your tunes while I am formatting a future issue).
