The Oxford Student - Week 7 Trinity 2025

O XFORD S TUDENT

Jewish faculty urge Oxford to drop disciplinary proceedings

On the morning of 10th June, 11 Jewish faculty and staff of the University of Oxford sent an open letter to the Vice Chancellor Irene Tracey, Proctors, and Chief Diversity Officer Tim Soutphommasane. Titled “An Open Letter from Concerned Jewish Faculty at the University of Oxford”, the letter details the individuals’ response to the University’s arrest of student demonstrators who occupied the University administrative building on Wellington Square on 23rd May 2024.

Following the arrest of student demonstrators in May last year, the University’s official investigation into the matter commenced in early September, following a decision by Thames Valley Police to “take no further

action” on this investigation in August.

Specifically, the letter from the faculty calls on the University to “drop disciplinary proceedings, commencing today, against the 13 students who occupied Wellington Square on 23 May 2024”. The letter also condemns the University’s investigative processes as “drawn-out” and “secretive”, referencing their decision to involve Thames Valley Police and the release of an “ill-advised statement that smeared participants with unfounded accusations of violence”.

The statement in question –released by the University in response to the sit-in last spring –had claimed that the protesters engaged in “violence and criminal action”, and alleged that some of the protesters had created a “deeply intimidating en-

vironment” for Jewish students and staff at the University. “We objected then and now to this misleading and reductive allegation,” the faculty’s letter emphasises, “which threatens to prejudice the outcome of the current proceedings.”

“Antisemitism is a serious and ongoing threat, but there is no credible evidence that the encampment, in which Jewish students were also actively involved, led to a rise in antisemitism or that it was experienced in a uniform way by Oxford’s highly diverse Jewish community.”

The letter further details the “extensive harm” that the students have suffered as a result of the University’s handling of the matter.

Oxford Pride bans political parties

chester events.

Oxford Pride, which campaigns for LGBTQ+ rights, has banned political parties from attending in light of the Supreme Court ruling in April, which defined the term “woman” in the Equality Act according to the individual’s biological sex.

Oxford Pride has said that while any individual may attend the event, they were not allowed as part of a party and could not wear party branding.

Similar bans have been announced at the Birmingham, Brighton, London, and Man-

The aforementioned organisations are four of the UK’s largest Pride organisations. They have suspended the involvement of political parties in their events to express “unequivocal solidarity” with the transgender community, and would not amend their decision until political parties demonstrated a “tangible commitment to trans rights”.

In a joint statement, released on 12th May 2025, they clarified that the suspension was not a “symbolic gesture”.

Continued on page 4

101 things to do before you graduate

After taking a look at MIT’s 101 things to do before you graduate, I decided to look up if Oxford had one…and unfortunately we don’t. All we have is a six month-old Reddit thread highlighting activities such as visiting the Magdalen deer park and exploring the libraries –but I bet I can do better.

As an Oxford local of 12 years now, the RadCam had been a

staple I’d walked past without much care, but now that I’m a student, the Oxford playground has expanded greatly from just Uni Parks and Westgate. Going from Town to Gown, donning the subfusc uniform I had always questioned and watching my friends graduate – it all feels so surreal. It’s the small things that we overlook that I find the most beautiful about this place so here’s my collection of them so far!

Continued on page 17

The Radcliffe Camera. Credit: Yunzhang Liang

The sit-in at Wellington Square last May. Credit: Cameron Samuel Keys

Yunzhang Liang

Yunzhang Liang

Azka Adziman

Somehow, impossibly, we’ve come to the final print issue of the term. It truly is the end of an era!

Comment

In defence of the spoilt brat: observations on classism

Identity

lieve that even at the university level, student journalism is so important in providing students with a platform to publicise their voices and opinions – as cliche as it may sound. I hope the paper has done justice to the stories you tell, the stories you read, and those that stay with you.

ADoes FemSoc really need a men’s rep? 23

I have enjoyed my tenure as Editor-in-Chief in spite of all the sleep that I’ve lost, and I must say a huge thank you to everyone who’s written, edited, illustrated, or simply read along with us this term. To my co-Editor-inChief Yashas and Director of Strategy Ananya – it’s been a real pleasure working with you guys, and I could not have done this without you. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to lead a student publication. My friends always tell me “it’s not that deep”, which is true – we are not the BBC, after all. But I be-

Ican hardly believe we are publishing the last issue of Trinity Term. The entire OxStu team has been wonderful to work with, and huge thanks to Department Editors Christina, Harry, Isobel, and

Editorial Team

Editorial Board

Yashas Ramakrishnan and Yunzhang Liang (Editors-in-Chief)

Ivett Berenyi and Ekam Hothi (Associate Editors)

Ananya Parakh and Tod Manners (Directors of Strategy)

News

Aamna Shehzad and Canqi Li (Heads of News)

Abhipsa Panda, Caitlin Clarke, Chaewon Kang, Christine Savino, Dalia Berkani, Devika Manish Kumar, Fenja Tramsen, Iona Mandal, Maya Prakash, Will Lawrence (Section Editors)

I suppose we’re in the end credits of the fever dream that was Trinity term 2025. It’s been a good run, with just one more week until everything dissolves into suitcases, goodbyes, and rushed promises to “stay in touch” over the long summer ahead. As exhausting and overwhelming as it’s been, I’m also reluctant to let it go. There’s a beauty in the adrenaline rush and chaos, the late-night editing sessions, the frantic WhatsApp messages and phone calls, and the unfiltered joy of seeing your name in print.

I guess this is it! Time for my well-deserved nap.

Yunzhang Liang Christ Church

Hannah for letting me explore topics near and dear to my heart. Although it sounds hyperbolic, working with this newspaper has truly made TT25 a very special time for me.

My own perspective aside, the team has covered so much recently. On our website you will find a range of updates about life within and outside the borders of Oxford. The News section covers Oxford Union debates, the banning of political parties from Oxford Pride, and

Investigations

Manon Graham (Head of Investigations)

Cora Partridge, Abhipsa Panda (Investigations Team)

Comment

Harry Aldridge (Deputy Editor)

Ellie Apostolidi, Arun Lewis, Iona Davies, Chaehyeon Moon, Devika Manish Kumar, Isheta Ahmed, Yassin Hachi (Section Editors)

Profile Mariyah Saddique (Deputy Editor)

Cora Partridge, Iona Davies, Isobel Wanstall, Maya Prakash, Meira Lee, Sofia Mollona (Section Editors)

nd just like that, Trinity draws to a close. We’ve powered through essays, tutes, elections, boat crashes, and the kind of weather that veers between summer in Tuscany and Caribbean maelstrom within a 12-hour window.

Exams are around the corner for some, and others are already in the thick of it - add the standard end-of-term drama to the mix and it’s no surprise that tensions are a bit higher than usual. Maybe it’s exams looming. Maybe we’re all just slightly frayed around the edges, or high on library fumes. Either way, it’s a reminder to be kind and understanding, and just take a deep breath (ideally somewhere far away from the Rad Cam).

recent SU developments. I must highlight the splendid Culture section as well, as reviews of books, films, and student productions are rolling nearly every day. I have had the pleasure of editing many of them; it almost felt like I actually watched these films and plays instead of jumping from one deadline to the next.

As ever, I must recommend you check out our Features and Comment sections for deep-dives free from the pressures of a tutorial office.

Features

Isobel Wanstall (Deputy Editor) Chaewon Kang, Esme Thomson, Isheta Ahmed, Lola Forbes, Maya Prakash, Meira Lee, Nicole Wong, Sofia Mollona (Section Editors)

Culture

Christina Scote (Deputy Editor)

Esme Thomson, Hannah Stewart, Iona Mandal, Jack Wharton, Meira Lee, Nicole Wong, Sam FieldGibson, Sophie Harrison (Section Editors)

OxYou

Will Lawrence (Deputy Editor)

Arun Lewis, Louise Guy (Section Editors)

This edition has its share of life: personal pieces that touch on identity, culture, and what it means to find your footing in a place like Oxford. There’s also some excellent satire, sharp and unserious in just the right ways. One of the pieces even takes a light jab at me, which I read with both horror and amusement.

With summer around the corner, this is your sign to celebrate. You’ve got through term, even if some bits were messier than planned. If you’re staying in Oxford over the break, I highly recommend walking down Cornmarket wearing a college polo or rugby tee - the looks you’ll get are priceless. It’s been a real pleasure serving as EiC this term. And it’s been a privilege to platform voices and publish writing that matters; here’s to a brilliant team that made the sleep deprivation worth it!

Yashas Ramakrishnan

I hope most of you are preoccupied with plans, trips and internships during the Long Vac. However, do keep The Oxford Student in mind for the next academic year. A new term can offer an amazing opportunity for you to join the newspaper and broaden your horizons beyond your degree, or explore this beautiful town through the lens of an aspiring journalist.

Ivett Berenyi St. Hilda’s College

Identity

Hannah Stewart (Deputy Editor)

Iona Mandal, Iona Davies, Isheta Ahmed (Section Editors)

Sport

Tod Manners (Deputy Editor)

Ava Doherty (Section Editor)

Science

Yuhan Wang (Deputy Editor)

Nicholas Gan, Nicola Kalita, Omer Mihovic (Section Editors)

Creative Youran Luo (Creative Director)

Bethan Wallace, Kate Bansmer, Tess Cottin (Photographers)

Luke Gillespie (Puzzles)

Balliol College

Errol Musk in post debate interview

Errol Musk in the Oxford Union. Credit: Canqi Li

Canqi Li

Elon Musk’s father Errol Musk advised Oxford students to “read some books” in an exclusive interview with The Oxford Student at the Union in the early hours of today.

The interview followed Musk’s speech during the Union’s debate on whether Africa must evict its colonial masters earlier in the evening. Arguing on the opposition side, Musk faced loud booing from the audience right at the start of his speech.

“ Reflecting on the debate, he told The Oxford Student: “The whole proposition was somewhat flawed, because there are no colonial masters to evict.”

Reflecting on the debate, he told The Oxford Student: “The whole proposition was somewhat flawed, because there are no colonial masters in Africa to evict.”

He was also highly critical of the debate’s motion: “It was very flawed and made no sense at all.”

Musk believes that foreign influence on African countries is an inevitable aspect of private investments. “You’re not going to get private people to invest their money in Africa otherwise,” he remarked.

According to him, these investors would not risk their income and livelihood without laying down conditions to those they lend the money to.

“Some speakers said that the recipients of the money should do whatever they want with it and that the people who give the money must not ask any questions – well, that’s ridiculous,” he said. He then went on to state his views on East Asian investors: “Chinese people and people from the oriental side don’t give money away for anything, and they want something in return.”

Regarding the Apartheid in South Africa, Musk noted: “Apartheid has been gone for so long that perhaps 40% of the nation in South Africa has never even known it.” He also said: “Some of the people in the country stuck with it because they are very old-fashioned and conservative.”

As for Rhodes Must Fall, a movement in South Africa

Open letter from Jewish faculty

Continued from page 1

The letter points to the “rough treatment by police, bail conditions restricting on-course students’ access to University buildings and facilities…[and] the exceptionally drawn out and uncertain timeline of the disciplinary process”, amongst other disadvantages experienced by the student protesters under arrest.

Irene Tracey, Proctors, and Chief Diversity Officer Tim Soutphommasane to “sever the University’s financial and institutional entanglements with Israel” with immediate effect.

“

since 2015 with goals to remove a statue commemorating Cecil Rhodes on the University of Cape Town’s campus and decolonise education, Musk said: “That’s really old –people were doing that maybe 20 years ago. There is nothing like that anymore.”

“ “Apartheid has been gone for so long that perhaps 40% of the nation in South Africa has never even known it.”

Apart from expressing his disappointment in multiple aspects of the debate, Musk also touched on his family life during the interview. He told his son Elon Musk: “Get some rest!” However, he added: “Elon won’t listen to me, so I’m wasting air.”

He also mentioned that he had a difficult time recalling memories of Elon Musk that he was particularly fond of. “I have too many fond memories to mention – I have a lot of fond memories of all my children, and these memories keep coming.”

“ The letter calls on the University to “drop disciplinary proceedings, commencing today, against the 13 students who occupied Wellington Square on 23 May 2024.”

“In short, the University seems to have pre-judged the case and adopted a needlessly hostile, punitive, and adversarial stance toward its own students,” the letter concluded.

Finally, the letter highlights the failure of the University to “grasp the extreme moral stakes of the current moment”, and urges the Vice Chancellor

“In short, the University seems to have prejudged the case and adopted a needlessly hostile, punitive, and adversarial stance toward its own students”

The letter was signed by 11 signatories who are either current or former staff at Oxford University, who collectively describe themselves as Jewish faculty.

They are: Oreet Ashery, Reuben Binns, Richard Caplan, Robin Cohen, Laurence Dreyfus, Katherine Lebow, Avner Offer, Mar A Rodda, Graeme Segal, Avi Shlaim and Bernard Sufrin.

A spokesperson at the University of Oxford told The Oxford Student: “The student disciplinary process is confidential and the University will not comment on ongoing procedures or their outcome.”

The Wellington Square sit-in last May. Credit: Gaspard Rouffin

Editors: Will Lawrence, Fenja Tramsen, Caitlin Clarke, Iona Mandal, Maya Prakash, Abhipsa Panda

Study at University of Oxford reveals cause of global tremors

Between September and October 2023, extraordinary and at-first inexplicable tremors shook the globe. A new study led by the University of Oxford has revealed the cause: namely, two mega tsunamis in Greenland that became trapped standing waves.

The global seismic signal appeared every 90 seconds over nine days in September 2023 This pattern was then repeated the following month. A Danish military vessel, which sailed into the fjord where the first seismic event was reported, did not discover the source of the wave.

9 months later, two scientific studies have suggested that the cause of these tremors, or seismic anomalies, were two mega tsunamis.

The tsunamis were triggered in the Dickinson fjord in a remote part of East Greenland. They were caused by two large landslides, which themselves were caused by the warming of a glacier. It is speculated that the waves were trapped in the fjord, forming what are known as ‘standing waves’, which moved backwards and forwards, causing the global tremors.

The glacier itself was due to melt as a result of the effects of global warming. Thomas Monahan, the lead author of the study and DPhil student at the University of Oxford’s Department of Engineering Science, said: “Climate change is giving rise to new, unseen extremes. These extremes are changing the fastest in remote areas, such as the Arctic, where our ability to measure them...

Read the full article at www.oxfordstudent.com

Diane Abbott expresses support for OA4P protesters

Will Lawrence

Labour MP for Hackney North and Stoke Newington, Diane Abbott, expressed support for Oxford Action for Palestine protesters who are currently undergoing disciplinary measures within the University despite not being charged by Thames Valley Police.

Hearings for the more than 12 protestors involved in the occupation of Wellington Square are set to take place this June.

In her letter, Abbott said that “It is neither fair nor reasonable for a university to treat principled protest on urgent moral and humanitarian issues as misconduct warranting punitive measures.”

She also said that it threatened to endanger the “moral leadership” of the next generation, and undermines freedom of speech.

“

In her letter, Abbott said that “It is neither fair nor reasonable for a university to treat principles protest on urgent moral and humanitarian issues as misconduct warranting punitive measures.”

The University has asserted that the protest was not a “peaceful sit-in” but rather a

“violent action”, and said that its investigation is “confidential”. According to the BBC, the University is refusing to comment further.

Abbott was Shadow Home Secretary for four years under Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership, and both her and Corbyn are

known for their pro-Palestinian stance. Corbyn was suspended from the Labour Party and subsequently expelled for downplaying the extent of antisemitism within the party. He contested the 2024 general election as an independent.

Political parties banned from attending Oxford Pride

Continued from page 1

“It is a direct call for accountability and a refusal to platform those who have not protected our rights…We need every political party to stand unequivocally with every member of the LGBTQ+ community, and to centre the voices of trans people in policy, practice and public life.”

Similarly, the organisers of Oxford Pride said that while they believe in “engaging with local officials and political representatives”, “Pride Day is not that day”, citing the purpose of Pride as “community, solidarity, and protest, not political promotion”.

“We must keep the focus firmly where it belongs: on the growing inequalities and targeted attacks faced by our trans siblings here in the UK,” the statement emphasised.

The Oxford Labour Party has reportedly been removed

from this year’s main site and given a refund for its stall fee.

The Liberal Democrats – the only party to register for the parade – have also been directed not to march under their party banner.

The Oxford Liberal Democrats have also released a statement calling Oxford Pride’s decision “regrettable”. “We understand and respect why the decision was taken. In response, we pledge to listen, reflect, and act,” the statement continued.

The statement ends with an affirmation of the Oxford Liberal Democrats’ support for the movement: “Today we pledge that while we can’t be a visible presence on pride day, we will make ourselves visible year-round in campaigning for LGBTQ+ people, in the press, in the council, in parliament.”

This year’s Oxford Pride will

be its 22nd rendition, and will take place in South Park for the first time following concerns of overcrowding in the city centre.

In a statement to The Oxford Student, the Oxford Pride Committee said: “Oxford Pride has always strived to be a welcoming and inclusive space for the whole LGBTQIA+ community. Our 2025 policy to exclude all political parties, regardless of ideology or affil-

iation, from having a formal presence at Pride was a carefully considered response to the increasingly hostile political climate for trans people in the UK, especially in light of the April 2025 Supreme Court ruling that narrowed the legal definitions of “woman” and “man” to biological sex only.”

The Committee explained that their decision was taken... Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

A pride parade. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Diane Abbott. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Oxford University Sikh Society hosts third annual Langar

The Oxford University Sikh Society (OUSS), along with the Rhodes Trust, hosted its third annual Sikh Langar at the McCall MacBain Hall in the Rhodes House on 29th May. The evening was met with celebration, music and joy.

Langar refers to Sikh community kitchens, where meals are served free of charge to all visitors, regardless of religion, caste, gender, economic status, or ethnicity. People sit together on the floor as equals and break bread together, building community, breaking barriers, and highlighting equality while the kitchen is maintained and serviced by volunteers. This tradition was established by Guru Nanak, the first Sikh Guru, around the year 1481, and it aims to uphold the principle of equality among all people.

Upon entrance, guests were invited to sign bandanas and cover their heads with them

as a commemorative memory to the sense of community and belonging the event pieced together. Guests were also prompted to remove any footwear before entering the hall.

“

The langar is a historic tradition spanning over 500 years since its initial fruition

The evening began with a melodic rendition of traditional “kirtan” music by a band of customary harmonium and tabla players along with the singing of prayers. The old and young alike all took in the moment of sanctifying prayer with some singing along while others sat in peaceful silence.

Following the kirtan, guests were invited to sit on the floor where they were served a va-

riety of Punjabi dishes that are typically served at a Sikh Langar. These included “roti” (a flatbread), rice, “daal” (lentil or bean stew), “sabzi” (vegetable curries) and to end off on a sweet note, some “kheer” (rice pudding).

In addition to enjoying the delicious food together, attendees had the opportunity to learn more about the Sikh faith and its values through various stalls. These included a free merchandise stand stocked with stickers and bookmarks, a book display with texts about the Sikh faith, and a highly popular “Tie a Turban” stall.

At the turban stall, guests were invited to have turbans tied around their head in a traditional Sikh fashion known as the “dastar” or “pagri”. Attendees from many different cultures excitedly had their turbans tied, with many experiencing the tradition for the first time.

Among the many attendees was Saji Subin, a photog-

rapher capturing moments from the evening. “Everyone is so helpful,” he said in conversation with The Oxford Student. “You don’t even need to say thank you—it’s kind of built in, like saying thank you is almost offensive, because of course you help.”

For him, the highlight of the night was the warmth of the people—and the “kheer” (rice pudding). Pawlin Marwah,

an MSc in Taxation student from Worcester College, said: “The highlight for me tonight is definitely the sense of community and belonging.” She added: “The langar is a historic tradition spanning over 500 years since its initial fruition by Guru Nanak and it’s lovely to see so many people gather in one place, celebrating this long standing tradition of good faith and equality.”

History degrees in the age of ChatGPT

Skye-Jane Ingram is a first-year History and Politics Student at Jesus College.

Iam sure humanities students at Oxford have either heard — or half-jokingly said themselves — that they are “jobless” and destined for unemployment. It is easy to feel this way when comparing ourselves to the first year computer science student who has attended 3 spring weeks and well on their way to a six-figure “normal” graduate role at Jane street. Students of english, history, philosophy, law and theology alike wonder if the yearly fees of £9,535 are a worthy investment. This is especially the case when we are told our future jobs may be lost to AI, all while we endure the intense demands of an Oxford degree. This fear is not completely irrational. After all, the UK Graduate job market is more competitive than ever. Third years in “jobless” degrees

scramble for a limited number of elite roles, particularly in law and consulting. In 2023, 30% of graduates aged 21-30 were unemployed or underemployed (working in roles for which they were overqualified). Accordingly, this makes the ascent of AI seem all the more concerning. The potential of AI to lead to 8 million job losses in the UK alone seems almost like an existential threat to humanities students, whose prospects are already precarious.

But a conversation over coffee — horsebox coffee, to be precise — made me reconsider . We reflected on how AI alone is, frankly, quite useless. If you simply asked ChatGPT to “write my next tutorial essay”, you would almost certainly get something calamitous. Worse, even, than

a caffeine-fueled, last-minute draft churned out at 1am in the morning. The ideas are unclear, references fabricated, and above all, ChatGPT often “hallucinates”, making up claims that are not there.

I am sure many of us, me included, have begun to become more adept at using AI. Instead of viewing AI solely as a threat, perhaps it is better to see it as an opportunity to improve your job prospects. Mastering the art of AI prompting allows us to really take advantage of AI and allow for improved idea generation, instant feedback and the automation of mundane admin tasks, such as email correspondence and grammar checking. Arguably, the process of essay writing — instead of abstract logic and maths problems — actually leaves humanities stu-

dents better placed to learn to prompt. In my last politics essay, for instance, I asked an AI chatbot to assume the persona of a tutor and critique my argument. That immediate feedback — from an artificial “tutor” — actually helped me sharpen my argument and ultimately improved the quality of my essay. My friends who do STEM subjects, on the other hand, seemed to emphasise how the “general” training of LLMs proved a limitation in subjects where there is a greater emphasis on a “right” or “wrong” answer. Learning how to, in effect, “hack” AI is something humanities students will only become better at — though perhaps to the detriment of University regulatory boards.

Read

The Langar at Rhodes House. Credit: Abhipsa Panda

Abhipsa Panda

OxFOE hosts “Party for the Planet”

On Thursday 5th June, Oxford Friends of the Earth organized a “Party for the Planet” on Broad Street supported by Community Action Groups (CAG) Oxfordshire; an openair celebration marking World Environment Day and launching the UK’s Great Big Green Week.

Oxford Friends of the Earth organized the “Party for the Planet” to bring awareness to climate issues and local climate action groups in Oxford. The event featured samba drums, ceilidh dancing, DJ sets, and environmental advocacy; bringing together students, locals, activists, and passersby.

The event featured 12 local organisations; setting up stalls and creating... Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Oxford buses back plans to reduce traffic

Oxford Bus Company has welcomed the plans of Oxfordshire County Council to tackle congestion in the city. The council cabinet, recently elected, have announced new traffic filters with the goal of easing traffic, lowering emissions, and ensuring that public transport becomes faster as well as more reliable.

Managing Director of Oxford Bus Company Luke Marion had said last month that congestion at Oxford had hit “emergency levels”.

The Oxfordshire County Council rolled out plans to introduce traffic filters on various roads throughout the city last autumn, but they were delayed due to the Botley Road closure.

Luke Marion said he was “encouraged by the announcement”, and that “to further enhance the appeal of travelling by bus, we need journeys to be faster and more reliable than is currently possible.”

“Present levels of congestion

are having a devastating impact on our city which we’re keen to help resolve through positive discussion.”

“ The council cabinet announced new traffic filters with the goal of easing traffic, lowering emissions, and ensuring that public transport becomes faster as well as more reliable

However, Labour councillor Brad Baines argued that administration of the council’s plans by the Liberal Democrats “do not answer questions about affordability of

bus services”. At the beginning of January of this year, the bus fare cap was increased by the government from £2 to £3.

Councillor Susan Brown, the Leader of Oxford City Council, said in a statement on 9th June that the Council is “concerned that this scheme allows people who can afford to do so to buy access to our streets”, adding that “those who can’t will struggle.”

“ Journey times on Abingdon Road have increased by an average of 17% since the closure of Botley Road in April 2023

According to Oxford Bus Company, journey times on Abingdon Road — the main arterial road to the south of

the city which merges into St. Aldate’s Street past Folly Bridge — have increased by an average of 17% since the closure of Botley Road in April 2023. Services between Blackbird Leys (just south of Cowley) and Oxford City Centre have slowed by 33% since 2013.

The planned traffic filters would affect St. Cross Road, which joins South Parks Road to where Holywell Street and Longwall Street meet, as well as Hythe Bridge Street, leading to the station. Drivers will

face a £70 fine for using these roads without a permit.

“

The planned traffic filters would affect St. Cross Road and Hythe Bridge Street

Oxfordshire County Council aims to reach a 100% net-zero travel and public transport system by 2040.

Ekam Hothi

The event on Broad Street. Credit: Abhipsa Panda Credit:

OU votes Africa must evict colonisers

On Thursday 29th May, the Oxford Union debated the motion “Africa must evict its colonial masters”, voting in favour of the motion 227-25.

Focusing on the pros and cons of neocolonialism across Africa, the debate covered topics ranging from the independence of people from Africa and the interpretation of freedom to the practicality of the eviction of foreign influence imposed on the African continent.

Speakers for the proposition included Master’s student in Global Governance at Worcester College Lughano Kabaghe, South African entrepreneur and author who has appeared on South Africa’s Dragons’ Den Vusi Thembekwayo, and activist, psychologist, African history expert and motivational speaker Dr Umar.

Opposition speakers involved Master’s student in

Public Policy at Regent’s Park College Charles Shachinda, in-house tax professional Batanayi Katongera, and South African businessman and politician and Elon Musk’s father Errol Musk.

Lugano Kabaghe opened the case for the proposition, followed by Shachinda, who set the stage for opposition.

Continuing the case for the proposition was Kabaghe.

“Colonialism is a system,” he declared, “one that has morphed itself so that it is palatable for the times in which we live.” The chamber responded with finger clicks and approving nods.

He criticised the hypocrisy of modern Western economic systems – where global best practices and trade policies are written in London and New York but enforced in West Africa – as a new face of colonial domination. “We don’t want to be participants in the game,” he said. “We want to decide how the game is played.”

He further remarked, “They will send one of us to kill one of us, just to say it was one of us.” which was met with a burst of applause and cheer from the chamber.

In reference to the historic significance of the moment –debating colonialism in the Oxford Union under its first Black female president – he said: “Here we are, in the Queen’s English, debating the fate of a people who probably won’t have the opportunity to sit here.” This line was met with audible approval across the floor.

He closed his argument by reclaiming the right of African people to self-determination, however imperfect: “Even if Africans fail when left to their own devices, it is our God-given right to do so.” The chamber rose in response, offering him a rare standing ovation – one of several that evening from an audience that was visibly aligned with the proposition. Continuing for the opposition was Batanayi Katongera, who started off on a humble note by acknowledging... Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Oxford Union votes that no one can be illegal on stolen land

On Thursday 5th June, the Oxford Union debated the motion “Oxford Union believes that no one can be illegal on stolen land”, voting in favour of the motion 98-82.

Focusing on the legacies of colonial dispossession and its impact on modern immigration policies, the debate explored themes such as indigenous sovereignty, the mo-

rality of border enforcement, and how historical injustices should shape contemporary ideas of legality and belonging.

Speakers for the proposition included Union President and PPE student at Magdalen College Anita Okunde, Union Director of Media and Master’s student in Refugee and Forced Migration Studies at Reuben College Yeji Kim, American professor and author of “Undocumented: How Immigra-

tion Became Illegal” Dr. Aviva Chomsky, Deputy Leader of the Australian Greens and the first muslim woman to sit in the Australian Parliament, Senator Mehreen Faruqi. Opposition speakers involved Union Standing Committee member and Master’s student in Latin American Studies at St. Cross College Victor Marroquim-Merino, Resident Fellow in Law and Policy for the Centre for Immigration Studies in Washington D.C Andrew Arthur, President of the National Immigration Centre for Enforcement R.J Hauman, Leader of New Zealand’s ACT party and Minister of Regulation Cosmos (World’s largest debate platform) The Hon. David Seymour MP. Anita Okunde opened the case for the proposition by challenging the legitimacy of borders drawn in “nothing but blood”. She criticized the hy-

SU sabbatical officers retitled for “understanding and engagement”

In the latest move on the transformation of the Oxford SU, the four elected sabbatical officers will be given new titles as part of a bye law update which will be announced at next week’s Conference of Common Rooms meeting.

This change will see recently elected officers Seun Sowunmi, Wantoe T. Wantoe, Alisa Brown, and Shermar Pryce retitled President for Undergraduates, President for Postgraduates, President for Welfare, Equality and Inclusion, and President for Communities and Common Rooms respectively.

A joint statement released by the Presidents’-elect described the changes as “more than symbolic”, affirming their belief that “these titles more accurately communicate the significant leadership responsibilities we undertake”.

pocrisy behind colonial defamation of the colored while praising their own: “They’ve called themselves explorers, we call them invaders.”

Connecting immigration policy to settler colonialism, from Australia to Palestine, Kenya to South Africa. “Detention centres,” she argued, “are modern reservations, where the same colonial machine grinds our black, brown, and indigenous bodies.” She concluded on a rhetoric note; imploring the audience to think about: “Who are the real criminals?”.

Opening for the opposition was Victor Marroquim-Merino who dissected the motion’s logic as a “luxury belief” a moral claim that collapses under practical scrutiny. He likened the motion to a slogan: “Slogans are not arguments”.

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

They went on to say that “Crucially, this proposal reflects the feedback received, the platforms campaigned upon, and the mandates delivered to us during the recent elections in Hilary Term, and represents a pragmatic compromise that maintains the spirit of an equal, flat leadership structure amongst all Sabbatical Officers.”

The Conference of Common Rooms on 10th June will be held at the H B Allen Centre from 6-8pm. University-specific items including the Common Room election platform, the fee model and water safety during trashing are set for discussion. Local topics include ceasing investment in arms companies and speaking out against the reopening of the Campsfield House Immigration Removal Centre.

The Union Chamber. Credit: The Oxford Student

Image of Africa’s silhouette. Credit: Etienne Swanepoel

Canqi Li & Abhipsa Panda Abhipsa Panda

comment@oxfordstudent.com | Deputy Editor: Harry Aldridge

In defence of the spoilt brat: An observation on classism

Classist outlooks are everywhere- in entertainment (with vague nods to Saltburn), luxurious events, clothing choices, and just about everything else. The frequent skirmishes between the, dare I say it, poor and notso-poor, the state and privately educated, the working class and the upper echelons are played out within the Oxford multiverse of moneymakers. And not to forget - because this was a word I unwillingly heard around the clock in first year - the ‘ghetto’ and non-ghetto camps have long since formed their opinions of each other.

I was considered ‘ghetto’. At first, it wasn’t uttered in the derogatory sense. The word introduced me into a safe collective: students who reached Oxford from unconventional backgrounds. If I was not thinking too hard, I saw the word ‘ghetto’ as a kind of affectionate term with a humorous and all-embracing undertone. It was subtly understood by those who could relate - those who struggled to become an Oxford student and those that blossomed academically under the radar of students who were facilitated by an easy transition to Oxford. It was for those of us who didn’t quite fit in. But, I soon learned how it could be wielded as an insult, even from the

mouth that used it knowingly. In an observation of classist conversations, I have found that classism from people of my own financial background is overwhelming. In my first Michaelmas, an old friend told me that I, a Crankstart Scholar and state schooler, ‘do not understand financial struggle’. I had never volunteered anything about my own finances, whilst I listened to them trumpet theirs at full volume. In another instance, I listened to my fellow, self-proclaimed ‘ghetto’ friends extend distaste to another student for being, unbelievably, ‘too ghetto’. Whilst this term allowed students like me an inviting portal into the Oxford social scene, it did not embrace all forms of poverty or disadvantage. The struggle of knowing who or what counted as ‘ghetto’, who fit into the collective and who was pushed to the fringes - this was more exhausting than simply navigating the pretensions of Oxford’s wealthy elite.

The polarisation of these classes exist quite naturally. These differences cultivate misunderstandings, as well as a nuanced relationship with money and lifestyle. The affluent and the underprivileged may walk on parallel paths, but rarely on the same one.

A year abroad, however, gave me the unique opportunity to examine the dynamic between these disparate backgrounds.

During my rustication, I travelled often to see my coursemates. Their strange dynamic slowly unravelled before me. I was not surprised by the divisions that occurred - the heavy scrutiny on certain individuals for their wealth or spending habits. I observed the struggling heat of complicated personalities that were, all at once, ensnared together in the beautiful maze of Amman. They depended and revolved around each other, living side by side, street by street, and class by class. Yet, in a way that felt forced, they forged independent lives. The commentary on each other’s class status ranged from obnoxious to absurdly untrue. Their numerous (and secret) sub-group chats appeared like microcosmic factions of one bigger, confusing entity: Oxford students.

‘She’s a spoilt brat’ I frequently heard my friends rant about one of the girls, Radia. As I tried to see what my friends were seeing, I only noticed similarities between Radia and I. She could not get away with what I could: complaints about the heating, enjoying fun night outs or spending a bit more on taxis here and there. Her privilege was under a magnifying glass. This was because she had the financial access, whilst my lack meant I was exempt from the court of public scrutiny. She was nothing but sweet to everyone, including those that demeaned

her for this assumed snobby nature. I failed to see the arrogance, the entitlement, or the detachment from reality that was amply expressed about her.

“ It was for those of us who didn’t quite fit. But, I soon learned.

Sure, she acknowledged her own privilege. Perhaps the difference between saving a little and spending a little more seemed stark to some, but that did not warrant Radia’s alienation from the group. Judgement seemed to seep from one direction, and it was not hers. Her status as ‘other’ reflected a herd mentality that aimed to compress her complex personality into a digestible ‘brat’. But a certain financial status is just one facet of the multilayered girl that Radia is.

In a quiet moment, Radia told me ‘they probably think I’m this spoilt brat, which might even be true’ with a casual laugh. As I looked at her, the blur of rants and gossip-laden conversations from times before circled guiltily in my mind. Her abrupt self-awareness, the very quality she was accused of lacking, softened me. Her silent tolerance was determined as

stupidity - judged by a moral framework built from the feeling of scarcity and justified by struggle. We were absorbed by class collectives that had nothing to gain except to isolate ourselves and alienate others. Her struggles were overlooked and wholly veiled with the smokescreen of money.

Deep in the recesses of my embarrassment is my complicity in stereotyping and shaming those with more money to the point of ostracisation. Radia was not the only target of this endemic moral judgement on the year abroad, but she, knowingly or not, tolerated the worst of it. Belonging is not easy. Finding a community among people who share your circumstances and class is a sacred experience, especially in the awkward daybreak of first year. Admittedly, I took the wrong people into my circle because of the failed assumption that we were the same. From the rampant unpacking in the first dorm to the anxious giggles with new neighbours, a glimpse into authentic relationships make Oxford feel like home.

As my time in Oxford develops, I find like-mindedness in people who are not necessarily in the same financial bracket as me. I refuse to be boxed up in the minefield of ‘belonging’, where neither rich nor self-proclaimed ‘ghetto’ remind me of home at all.

Section Editors: Anisha Mohammed, Arun Lewis, Chaehyeon Moon, Devika Manish Kumar, Ellie Apostolidi, Iona Davies, Isheta Ahmed, Yassin Hachi

Oxford’s Sheldonian Theatre acts as a reminder of tradition. Credit: SJPrice, Pixabay.

Isheta Ahmed is a Section Editor for Comment

Built on sand: The loss of a friendship

Arabella Cogswell is a firstyear at New College.

On the 7th of June, Donald Trump told NBC that his relationship with Elon Musk has ended. This followed Musk’s criticisms of Trump’s recent spending bill, which reduced EV subsidies that Musk’s Tesla benefited from. Musk responded by accusing Trump of appearing in files relating to the disgraced paedophile Jeffrey Epstein in a now deleted post on X, the social media company which he owns. How could this relationship, that so recently seemed unbreakable, fall apart in such a dramatic way, and so quickly?

The issue is that this relationship was from the start one of transactional political gain. Trump liked Musk’s money, $250m of which his 2024 Presidential campaign received, while Musk was subsequently gifted his very own government department, DOGE (the Department of Government Efficiency), through which to realise his own policy ambitions. On both sides a sweet deal, yet Trump no longer needs Musk’s election money, and Musk no longer has a ca binet role after it was cut after

just 129 days, and thus their relationship is no longer mutually beneficial.

“ Big personalities with bigger egos causing meaningless drama few understand.

It’s not too difficult to draw a comparison between this and Oxford student politics. Big personalities with bigger egos causing meaningless drama few understand and fewer care about? Comes free with a Union membership. The easy psychoanalysis of any hack is someone who sees human relationships as means to an end, valuing others only by the number of votes they can provide come 7th week. Yet while this philosophy is common enough in the Union, it’s vanishingly rare in those that make it to the top of Frewin Court’s greasy pole. What gives?

Transactional relationships are like a foundation built on shifting sands. When the times are good, the money is flowing, elections are being won, and celebrations had,

In defence of letter writing: a dying art

Ithey hold. But when the wind blows, the ground shakes, and the sand shifts, a relationship built on the favours one can do for another topples over. While these relationships can work in the short term, when inevitably conflicts of interest arise, and one can gain at the expense of another, they begin to tear each other down.

Humanity conquered the world not because of our strength or size but because of our ability to work together, not only when it was easy, but when it was hard. Our unique selling point over the rest of the animal kingdom is that we care for our weak, so that we may be cared for when we are weak. It is through this we are strong. Humans do not collaborate through mere utilitarian calculus but because we care for one another. A transactional relationship lacks this warmth, this human connection, and is thus doomed to fail the moment one side smells blood, and politics is a bloody sport indeed.

If any political actor or project is to succeed it takes a village, it requires people who believe in each other and who will stand by each other even as the going gets tough... Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

’m aware that there is a certain irony in a teenager finding comfort in an antique shop. And yet, they are one of my favourite places to visit. Every time I go, I find an interesting object that catches my eye, leading me to wonder who might have owned it and how many hands it must have passed through. However, there is a section in particular, not uncommon in such shops, that particularly fascinates me. Discarded in a dark corner or hidden in the drawers of an old cupboard, you will often find stacks of old letters and postcards. In fact, it is not uncommon to stumble upon hundreds of them piled up. They depict holiday resorts, exotic lands capes or even people, dressed in the fashion of their time. On the back, you will find little texts, written in small cur vaceous print, carefully spaced lines about events and well wishes that have long been forgotten. They are the last voices of people not dissimilar to us who lived their lives have long passed. All that remains of them are little postcards, a letter to a friend or the odd Kodachrome slide. Stumbling across these, I often feel strangely moved. Over the past years, I have become a quiet collector of these pieces that once meant something to somebody and which once touched them, if only for a brief moment. Throughout their lifetimes, people used to write hundreds of letters, engaging in regular correspondences with others. Many of these letters have been lost, discarded by their owners or their descendants. Some have managed to survive, sold off at flea markets or

junk shops to strangers, like me- traded as odd curiosities. they would benefit from them. In a world that prizes minimalism and constantly urges us to let go of clutter, keeping hold of things like letters can be hard to justify. Yet my little collection has led me to wonder what it is that people of our generation will be leaving behind one day. The thought that my letters might end up in an antique store in 100 years, destined to be bought by eccentric teenagers, carries an unnerving sense about it. And yet, it is still preferable to leaving behind no trace of me at all. The more we invest of ourselves into our digital existence, the less of imper sonal text messages, the art of writing a letter requires care and attention. Since the speed at which you are writing is limited, you have ample time to reflect on what you want to communicate and how. Letters have their own form. They allow feelings to be expressed in a clear and orderly manner whilst imbuing them with a deeply personal quality that reflects back on their author. They are a way of preserving our thoughts that give not only us, but also others, joy. The feeling of receiving a letter is entirely unique and moving.

Read the full article online at

A depiction of Musk and Trump outside of the Oxford Union. Credit: Youran Luo

Richard Kuehl is a student from Keble College

Landmines: How the UK Supreme Court has stumbled into partisanship

Arun Lewis is a Comment Section Editor at The Oxford Student

In 1832, the US Supreme Court ruled that state governments did not have the power to regulate relations or access between Native American tribes and US territory, as they were nations which could not be controlled by state-level politicians. President Andrew Jackson said (later revealed to be apocryphal), “John Marshall (then Chief Justice) has made his decision; now let him enforce it.” For years, the US Supreme Court has been embroiled in political issues, such as attempting to preserve slavery before the Civil War in consort with Southern Democrats in the Dred Scott decision, ruling that African Americans could never be citizens, and were never free regardless of their location. In recent years, the Court has remained the subject of such bitter contention, from determining the outcome of the 2000 election, regulating campaign finance, and ruling that a President can, in fact, do anything he

wants as long as he declares it an ‘official act’. It is a political body – its justices resolve political questions in an increasingly polarised environment: it has never been a neutral arbiter.

The UK Supreme Court has

“ For years, the US Supreme Court has been embroiled in political issues.

been different. Founded in 2009 amidst the buzz of BlairBrown constitutional reform, it has been seen as a nonpartisan, primarily judicial body, free of the political influences apparent with its American namesake. For example, in HM Treasury vs Ahmed, its ruling was based on the government simply lacking the power to institute such asset freezes under current statutes

“ Why are we attempting to resurect a ship whose historic significance rests on its sensational sinking?

2016 Referendum was such a seismic shock to the entire parliamentary system, constitutional kerfuffles were almost inevitable.

capacity to clip the wings of government without excessive fear of repercussions.

“ It has been seen as a nonpartisan, primarily judicial body.

True, it has increasingly been embroiled in controversy, brought on by Brexiteer challenges to its insistence on following the law throughout the UK’s exit from the EU. In both cases brought by Gina Miller, in 2016 and 2019, the Court ruled that the government had acted unlawfully: in 2016, by activating Article 50 without a vote of Parliament and, in 2019, by proroguing Parliament upon questionable advice to the monarch. These were instances where the government failed to follow the law, or in 2019, attempting to move so fast that it could not be challenged. They were not instances where the Court asserted judicial power in a blatantly partisan process: the

This shifted with the Court’s ruling on the long-running dispute between the devolved Parliament in Scotland, and the national government in Westminster over proposed devolved legislation to make obtaining legal recognition of transitioning easier. The Court ruled that the Gender Recognition Certificate which would facilitate this does not constitute a legal change of the subject’s gender under the 2010 Equality Act, upon which many of the UK’s laws regarding gender, sex, race, sexuality, age and other ‘protected characteristics’ rely.

The Court has not suddenly become political – its members are not former staffers or party acolytes, devotees of narrow ideological inclinations as has become the situation in the US. It is a broadly non-partisan grouping, with minimal ministerial interference. But the Court has, as it perhaps was destined to, grabbed a politically contentious livewire with both hands, and bitten into it. Regardless of what the Supreme Court intended, by wading into this issue, it has attempted to resolve a political issue without being subject to the checks imposed on elected politicians. Voters can complain to politicians, they can utilise the media to criticise them – they can vote them out for wrongdoing, perceived or real. Justices cannot be subject to any similar criticisms in order for our democracy to be more than just majoritarian rule, so judges have the

But if the Court continues to stumble into political issues, groping and stumbling around in the dark as the government refuses to lead on the issue and set a clear narrative, it will continue to fall onto political landmines. The solution to this is government leadership. Labour has tiptoed around the issue of trans rights, wary of alienating progressives or otherwise-Labour voting small ‘c’ conservative members of the middle class. But the government’s current pantomime dance around this issue is unsustainable. As long as it refuses to lead, other institutions – lacking the moral and political authority to impose a truly lasting settlement- will attempt to make up for their shortfall.

And they will fail. Because only a majority government in a system like Britain’s can come anywhere close to touching the sides of this issue. It must be handled with care and consideration – but above all it must be handled.

If you have a view on anything you have read or an opinion on a univeristy, national or international issue, email us an article pitch on oxstu.comment@gmail.com!

The UK Supreme Court. Credit: Anthony O’Neil, Wikimedia Commons.

Profiles

of the week

“

In Conversation with Max Han

Meira Lee talks to Max Han about climate justice

&

When I meet Max, he’s in the midst of dicing garlic and onions in his kitchen. “I’m making tom yam bee hoon”, he says. It’s a classic Malaysian dish inspired by Thai cuisine –a fusion likely catalysed by the shared border between the two countries. In a way, the dish is an apt metaphor for the nature of his work, which sees him collaborating with people across Southeast Asia to advance environmental goals.

Max Han is the co-founder of the Malaysian nonprofit Youths United For Earth (YUFE), which mobilises youth for climate action through advocacy, storytelling and campaigns. At a national level, YUFE is one of the advisors to the Malaysian Ministry of Environment, working with non-governmental organi-

sations (NGOs) to campaign against environmentally destructive projects that displace local communities. Earlier this year, he was selected by the National Geographic Society as one of their Young Explorers of the Year.

To start with, I ask how he

decolonisation “ How much I didn’t know about my own local biodiversity.

first got involved with environmental work and climate activism. “During high school, I volunteered with coastal communities like ones in Langkawi and the Perhentian Islands. During the day, I’d work with young kids and

teach them about plastic pollution. During the night, I would go into the forests and do research on this endangered nocturnal mammal called a colugo. That’s where I realised how much I didn’t know about my own local biodiversity.” He soon discovered a love for working with children and teaching about environmentalism, which motivated him to start a small project with his co-founder to engage young people on environmental issues.

Over the years, this has grown into YUFE’s flagship programme – its youth mentorship scheme which connects youths from different parts of Malaysia with industry professionals within the environmental sector.

On storytelling as a method of advocacy, Max says: “We

can’t exactly do activism in the same way as it is done in Europe. Southeast Asia remains one of the most dangerous places in the world for environmental activism, or activism in general. It’s a place where you can get threatened, slapped with a lawsuit, killed or murdered for it. In some countries, it’s dangerous to do things like protesting and organising – you have to do a very different kind of advocacy.”

Because of this, YUFE has been working with the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) to draft Southeast Asia’s first environmental rights declaration, which Max hopes will be passed at the ASEAN summit in October this year. “What we aim to fight for are environmental rights – for the right to voice

concerns about environmental issues, the right to participate in environmental decision-making, and the right to have a safe, clean and healthy environment. We forget that our very existence depends on our environment, and so that right underpins all our other rights.”

The draft took over two years to materialise, and involved working with diplomats, United Nations (UN) bodies, and NGOs. Negotiations were not an easy process. “Politicians are not always receptive to the comments that we make.”

On what climate justice means, Max says it’s about “acknowledging that not everyone bears the benefits and burdens of climate change equally… climate justice is about understanding this inequality that persists, and

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Deputy Editor: Mariyah Saddique

Section Editors: Meira Lee, Sofia Mollona, Cora Partridge, I. Davies

Max Han. Credit: Sam Allard

recognising that the solutions must be reparative.”

Max acknowledges that he’s really lucky to be at Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar, which means he gets to pursue two master’s degrees – one in environmental change and management, and another in public policy. But like the Rhodes Scholarship, the university has its own troubling colonial history to confront. “I think Oxford can do much more to decolonise. People often forget that Geog-

raphy is a discipline that was founded from the colonial project.” For Max, the tie between the fundamentals of geography to colonisation is something that needs to be taught at and acknowledged in Oxford. Having worked closely with indigenous groups in Malaysia, Max speaks about indigenous knowledge and traditions with great respect. He tells me that for many indigenous groups, trees are not just trees, but kin; family members. The Jahai

tribe in Malaysia, for example, believes that when you pass away, your form goes into the

“ We forget that our very existence depends on our environment.

trees. “Imagine logging companies cutting down those trees – it’s traumatic. It’s re-

ductive to think about forests in terms of possible value for extraction; as land for plantations or crops for international trade. You completely ignore the spiritual and cultural significance that those trees have for people.” For many indigenous people, “It’s not just land – it’s home, it’s spirituality, it’s your whole identity, tied to a place.”

What Max hopes to be is a bridge-builder between local communities and policymak-

ers. “When I was involved with civil society, dealing with climate justice, we spoke a language of love and care. When I was in policymaking rooms, it was a lot of wining and dining; negotiating in air-conditioned rooms away from the realities of many people and their lived experiences. The people at the heart of these issues are sometimes lost in bureaucratic jargon. It’s hard to bring those two worlds together, but what I want to do is exactly that.”

Antonia Blocker and modern art

Sofia Mollona talks to Antonia Blocker about art and exhibition

Antonia Blocker is a curator and Acting Head of Exhibitions at Modern Art Oxford. It was founded in 1965 with the primary aim of ‘the advancement of education of the general public in the modern visual arts’. The gallery is tucked away on Pembroke Street, offering free exhibitions, student workshops, and other events throughout the year.

Antonia’s background is in public programming and exhibition making in London. She explained how what’s special about Modern Art Oxford is that the exhibitions revolve around a single artist, rather than a group, and that while Oxford’s audience is smaller in scale than in London, it is constantly changing, as students come and go while they complete their degrees here.

First, I asked her about how Modern Art Oxford’s founding aim of promoting an artist-led community continues today. “I think that’s balanced across our whole programme. We have our Exhibitions team, and then we have our CPP team, which is Communities, Practice and Participation. We foster and encourage relationships with external community groups, and with artists who work with those groups, across different age ranges and abilities.

Modern Art Oxford connects directly with art students across the University of Oxford and Oxford Brookes.

As well as group exhibition tours, students have paid internship opportunities, placements across the summer, and a graduate prize ‘Platform’. LIVEs also happen four or five times a year.

“LIVEs are events where we try and present as much performance, work in progress, screenings, things that aren’t necessarily accommodated in the exhibitions programme, and that’s a moment when we really try and connect to visual arts students in

“ We encourage relationships with external community groups.

the city, to say, we have this platform, please come use it.” And this isn’t limited to art students.

As well as the student demographic in Oxford, Antonia told me that there is a committed audience in the public who have been attending the gallery for decades. Modern Art Oxford holds events and workshops which target different age groups, to ensure the longevity of this dedicated public audience.

“We always have an option for people who can’t necessarily afford to pay the whole amount.”

I asked Antonia about her personal approach to curating exhibitions and about her

specific interest in performance art. “I try to think outside of the traditional ways of making exhibitions and is this the only way that we can present art to audiences?”. In the visual arts sector, performance is largely unsupported, and while there are some platforms for performance art, it remains very expensive to put on. Making VR, for instance, is much more costly than putting a painting on a wall.”

We spoke about some of her most important projects. Her recollection of curating a motion-capture performance in 2023 with artist LuYang at the Zabludowicz Collection cap tures this fragility and ver satility of the performance space.

“On the night, there were hundreds of people there, and it was really well re ceived. And then halfway through the performance, the entire computer sys tem crashed, and we had to start again. We made an announcement in the middle of the room, and I’ve never heard a response like it in an art gallery before. It was like they were like a rock star, like everybody cheered and was clapping and whooping.”

She looks forward to curating a performance programme called ‘Hot with Excess’ that was originally sched uled for March 2020,

which looks at how art and visual artists work with opera, “how they kind of co-op this idea of opera”. When I point-

“ There is no expectation of you having to know about art.

ed out how people tend to think of opera as inaccessible and elitist, she confronted my understanding of ‘opera’. “It has this kind of barricade, but I think part of what artists are

have to redefine what that means and what the expectations are.

What is the essence of opera then? “There’s usually a libretto, but not always, and there’s usually a theatre stage, but not always. And there’s music and singing, but not always. It’s pretty loose. I want to work with that looseness and find artists who pull on theatre, dramaturgy, music, song, lyric, and then combine them in ways that are bizarre and unexpected.” ‘Hot with Excess’ will be the 2026 edition of the London Contemporary Music Festival. Together, we also considered the various understandings of the role of ‘curator’. Antonia describes herself as an “institutional curator”. Rather than working freelance, she enjoys working in response to an organisation and figuring out where it might be made better. Perceptions of the curator’s role have changed in

At the end, Antonia and I discussed the value of the gallery as a space for all students. “Ultimately, at its foundation, it’s a space of discovery in which absolutely everyone is welcome. There’s no expectation of you having to know about art, or even like art. What we present here is just something that is a point of inspiration, and you might not like it, or you might love it. There are no expectations of the visitor, they can do with it what they will.”

Features’ Faves End-of-year special

The Features Team

Somehow it’s week seven already, and another year in Oxford has nearly passed. To help put the academic stresses of three more terms behind you, we at Features have taken it upon ourselves to plan the perfect Trinity weekend so you can celebrate the end of exams and enjoy your new-found freedom in this city to the fullest!

SATURDAY

Brunch - Chaewon

One of the underrated perks of having exams during what is arguably Oxford’s best season is the reward that follows: post-exam days that begin with a fresh, carefree brunch. You will be met with clear blue skies and a crisp breeze — the perfect setting to reclaim your time. Ease into the day at your own pace: linger in bed with a book, or head out for a quiet run along the river. Then, gather your friends and make your way to brunch.

The Oxford Brunch Bar is a go-to for a reason. Its menu is full of com forting classics: pan cakes, sandwiches, French toast, crois sants, and frumpets, to name a

few options. Grab a coffee, settle into a window seat, and take in the gentle buzz of George Street. Conversation shifts, too. No more talk of crashouts or cram-ins. Just the warmth of good company, good food, and the long, fun-filled summer days ahead.

Afternoon - Meira

What better way to spend a sunny Saturday afternoon than by punting down River

Cherwell with your friends?

This is the quintessential Oxford activity. Before heading down to either one of the boathouses, assemble a group of friends and pop to Tesco to grab some snacks and drinks. Strawberries, grapes and lemonade if you’re feeling cute, or a pint or two if you prefer. Being the person to punt isn’t exactly the most relaxing activity, but as long as you and your friends take turns, everyone will get a chance to sit back and enjoy the sun. It is a

someone who can actually punt to come along. Play your favourite tunes, wave to people along the riverbank, try not to crash into other boats, and look out for the adorable (sometimes menacing) ducks! Top tip: bring a digicam to capture all the lovely memories, too.

Pub - Lola

The Head of the River, though a bit of a walk away from the city centre, is the perfect place to day drink. Since exams are over and the sun is out, there are no more silly rules like ‘it is only socially acceptable to drink after 5pm’. Grab a seat that directly overlooks the River Isis and celebrate the death of late night library sessions with the revitalising chill of a cold pint. But if you’re looking for something more central, then head to Broad Street: The White Horse hosts lots of outside space, which is perfect for big groups.

Night - Esme

Saturday night and I like the way you move — but now I’m a sensible second year, much preferring a good old pub to Bridge’s booths. Oxford’s beer gardens vary wildly in quality (looking at you, Old Tom). It is a mighty toss up between The Head of the River, Turf Tavern and The Crown, but in my old, feeble heart it has to be The White Rabbit. Nothing better than great pizzas, cheap pints and a game of cards as the sun sets and the city buzzes around you. Don’t get me started on those heated seats!

But if you are feeling less sensible than I am – and you’ve still got the energy for it after an intense year in Oxford – you can’t go wrong with a boogie in Bridge.

“ It’s Trinity, the sun is shining, rain is a distant memory

SUNDAY

Brunch - Isheta

Before the weekend completely winds down, it’s of the essence to leave college just awake enough for the call of brunch. A favourite cafe of mine to go to, perhaps familiar with many students that live just past OX2, is The Opera Cafe.

Open between the hours of half 8am to half 6pm, there is just enough time to organise a late round up of your mates and choose between the outdoor restaurant and the inner seating area. Approaching the cafe, it is hard not to be overcome by the aromatic swathe of Mediterranean flavours and Middle Eastern dishes.

My personal food pick is the spicy chicken sandwich, a tasty blend of grilled chicken -

thentically enclosed in Moroccan wraps. While it is hefty enough to save for leftovers, the rollover of sultry spices will leave you wanting more. Having tried the coffees, Indian masala and matcha lattes, I can safely say they are worth every penny, not to mention the baristas have an eye for design when it comes to curating a swirly, pretty (and photographable) beverage.

Afternoon - Yashas

It’s Trinity, the sun is shining, rain is a distant memory, flowers are in bloom, and the chatter of the town permeates through the trill of gadflies and bike chains. The freshers are locked in libraries and the finalists are in the Kings Arms downing pints to celebrate the end of their exams. And where am I? Taking a walk in Uni Parks, with someone special or even just a couple of good friends, maybe a cup of Pimm’s in hand, chatting about anything under the face of the sun (or beyond!). That’s my afternoon, before we return to central for a bite. Usually a hot bowl of noodles, for the air does cool as dusk sets in, before we stay up late talking, sleep in, and do the same all over again the very next day.

Dinner - Sofia

Gino’s off Gloucester Green has become a favourite among me and my friends to mark occasions over the past two years. The pizzas are great, but even better is their selection of at least ten different authentic pasta menu items. In fact, part of the fun of Gino’s is the prospect of trying a new pasta dish each time, like collecting stamps. It’s affordable, the staff are friendly, and the interior decoration evokes your nonna’s kitchen. They’ve also got a great lunch set menu. Make the most of this gorgeous weather and end your perfect weekend in Oxford with the taste of pure escapism: an Aperol spritz and their Spaghetti Amatriciana.

Section Editors: Isheta Ahmed, Chaewon Kang, Esme Thomson, Lola Forbes, Meira Lee, Sofia Mollona | Columnist: Isobel Wanstall

Summer punting. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Suspended Students’ Survival Guide: everything you need to know

Isheta Ahmed and Isobel Wanstall use their experience

to give you

advice on how to deal with your year off.

With a combined three years’ suspension under our belts, take it from us experts: suspension is never simple. Whether you’re considering suspending, currently suspended or trying to put the experience behind you, we hope this informal yet insightful guide can help!

Grappling with unexpected change

Now that you’ve done the hard part – the administrative nightmare of suspension – the first and most important step is to remember: there’s no right way to feel about it. It’s rarely ever a pre-planned process, and the sudden and un-

Isobel Wanstall is a second year Linguistics and Italian student at Balliol College who just misses her local pub quiz.

expected change brings about a whirlwind of feelings. You may be elated to escape Oxford and spend time with family, devastated that your life is now in ‘shambles’, or most likely somewhere between the two. Let yourself ride the rollercoaster of emotions: there might be plenty of regret, but there’s also a whole world of opportunity to explore in a year.

Uni life vs life outside Oxford

Life at home, away from the tutorial system, society meetups and the occasional Najars, can be starkly different from the academic joyride of Oxford. Students have told The Oxford Student that they were not allowed on college property ‘without written exception’, whilst achieving specific grades to attend balls was another mentioned requirement.

For some, retreating back home is a deep longing –alongside being spoon-fed delicious meals every night. This is undoubtedly expected and even desired for the suspended student –to spend

Iknow, I know. Oxford has an abundance of pub quizzes. How could I possibly miss them? Hear me out: they’re just... different. For the most part, they’re not the answer I’m looking for. Look, I’ve enjoyed the occasional pub quiz in Oxford. The Cape of Good Hope’s is corporate but reliable, The Gardener’s Arms has a great atmosphere (if you’re not shafted into the back room to strain to hear the questions, that is) and a quiz in your college bar is simple and cheap. But in a student city where no one is a local and everyone apparently has ‘more important things to

their sacred moments with family and everything that is a reminder of home. But for others, unfortunately, this ideal is not always the case. While I immensely valued the free things offered to me at home, I yearned for the personal freedoms that came

“

The great Oxford balancing act of work and hobbies doesn’t entirely go away

with college life, freedoms that were not always granted in my household. I realised the peace of a morning walk through uni parks on my way to classes was a treasure in comparison. Such freedoms are essential; in fact, a student told The Oxford Student how they frequently booked guest rooms at student rates in order to continue living in college. It makes sense as to why suspension breeds a homesickness of autonomy –

do’ week by week, scraping together a trivia team turns into a trial and tribulation, and no group holds the coveted title of ‘regulars’.

I have more of a personal stake in this than most: on my year out, my twin and I pioneered her local pub’s quiz in Canterbury. This may strike you as an odd hobby for two 20-somethings, but it was born of pure quizzing passion (...and a healthy dose of degree-procrastination). Yes, I’ve lived on both sides of the conflict: I have been both rowdy participant and question writer, host, sheet-marker, curator of atmosphere… I

independence, after all, pivots a student from dependence to individualism. But what this experience of suspension has taught me is that independence can be cultivated, solitude can be appreciated and patience, despite changes in environment, can grow.

Keeping up with friendships

Long-distance relationships always come with struggles, but where’s the guide on maintaining long-distance friendships? As some colleges ban suspended students from setting foot on college grounds, finding neutral territory to see university friends can become a real war. Don’t let this deter you from maintaining contact with people from college, however: if the friendships mean that much to you, the effort it takes to see your friends will always be worth it. But suspension is also the perfect time to rekindle relationships closer to home and break out of the Oxford bubble, which gives you a more rounded perspective of this strange place and the people in it. One thing not to

can tell you now you’ve never truly known annoyance until some middle-aged Trivial Pursuit addict starts protesting that the first person to play James Bond was Bob Holness on the radio, actually (when actually it was Barry Nelson on TV, which you rightly declared as the answer. You have done your research. He’s having none of it, the creep). But like it or not, this overly-competitive bickering forms an essential part of the pub quiz ecosystem. Here, in this city of Eton-inherited ‘sportsmanship’ and so-called ‘decency’, we seem to simply not care about getting too

worry about is losing friends by moving into a different year. To reiterate the above: if the friendship was real, it won’t be lost over something so trivial. Furthermore, a new year-group also makes for new people and possibilities for friendships you’d have never considered otherwise.

Employment, hobbies or boredom?

Once suspended, the great Oxford balancing act of work and hobbies doesn’t entirely go away: the deadline that is returning collections may not exactly loom, but it definitely lurks in the back of your mind. A key part of rustication, however, is escaping the immediate expectations of perfection on an essay or problem sheet, though you also need to make sure you’re spending your time keeping your mind active (but do carve out some time to wallow in self-pity, that also has its benefits). But what to do to stave off boredom?

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

passionate about anything at all. Have we put all our passion-eggs in our degree-baskets? Where is the healthy but ultimately pointless sense of competition? Do we think getting into the best university proves we can rest on our mental laurels? Should we concede to trivial injustices as regatta rowers do? No! The closest I’ve come to a proper pub quiz vibe in Oxford came from a rogue choice by a medic friend: The Masons Arms. If you’re a drinking devotee don’t be surprised if you’ve never heard of it. Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

My personal take on 101 things to do before you graduate

Azka Adziman gives some suggestions on how to make the most of the time you have at Oxford, from watching tortoise races to running half marathons

1. Visit all 43 Colleges and PPHs

2. Get involved in your college’s JCR or MCR

3. Visit famous pubs in Oxford like Turf Tavern, Lamb and Flag, etc

4. Play for a college sports team

5. Take – and pass – the swim test for rowing

6. Watch an Oxford United FC game

7. Visit all three G&D’s in Oxford

8. Visit the Ashmolean Museum

9. Take a selfie with a tourist

10. Try out rowing in a novice outing

in South Park and watch the fireworks display

29. Get college married and raise a college family

30. Volunteer with TSHA (Turl Street Homeless Action) and give food and supplies to the homeless around Oxford

31. Explore the Cotswolds

32. Try out a new sport that you’ve never heard of

33. Pull an all-nighter to finish your essay or problem sheet

34. Take a matriculation photo in front of the RadCam

35. Go from the Old Bod to the RadCam through the Glink (and feel the vibes of being a sewer rat)

36. Visit your sister College on an exchange day and make some friends from the Other Place

37. Watch a College garden play

38. Take a selfie with a College cat (Walter, Simpkins, etc)

39. Enjoy a game of Tiddlywinks at the Tiddlywinks society

40. Commit to a dry January (or any month for that matter)

41. Nominate your friends –or yourself – for your college’s Halfway Hall awards

42. Get a ticket for the Pembroke Pimms’ Party

43. Run the Town and Gown 10k – or if you’re feeling brave, the Oxford Half Marathon

44. Take a picture with the Brass Knocker at Brasenose

45. Attend the Freshers’ Fair (and maybe the Leavers’ Fair too)

46. Spend a vacation in Oxford and use Facebook Events to find local things to do here

Scriptorium

55. Make the trek to Summertown and visit the charity shops there

56. Take a nap on your college grass patch

57. Visit the top of the Radcliffe Observatory in Green Templeton College

58. See the inside of the Bridge of Sighs in Hertford College

59. Enjoy a music night at Jesus College Bar

60. Sing your heart out during karaoke at The Mad Hatter

61. Go to a Union debate or see someone famous speak at the Union

62. Climb to the top of the Oxford Castle Mound

63. Take a dip in the Oxford waters with the Oxford Wild Swimming Society

64. Take part in an Oxford parkrun at University Parks

65. Join a guided tour around Oxford or hop on the City Sightseeing Oxford Bus Tour and pretend to be a tourist for a day

66. Visit the Modern Art Museum behind Westgate and see the current exhibition (which changes every few months)

67. Go to the Magdalen Arms Flea Market on the first Saturday of every month and see why every local in Iffley seems to go there religiously

68. Get to know your porters

69. Ride the Tescolator

70. Unlock upper Covered Market by going to Georgina’s Cafe Deli

12. Take a trip to Bicester Village and go window-shopping

13. Go to Wadhstock

14. Take a stroll through Jericho and its many cafes

15. Go punting

16. Take a trip and go to an Oxford Blues away sports fixture

17. Get coffee with your college tutor

18. Visit all the kebab vans and pick your favourite one

19. Grab an infamous steak platter sunday roast from the Chester Arms

20. Obtain a Blue in a sport (or a Half-Blue?)

21. Take a language course

11. People-watch the many tourists in Radcliffe Square on the Exeter College Fellows’ Garden ledge presiding over them

for a term at the Language Centre

22. Explore Oxford’s green spaces: University Parks, South Park, Port Meadow, Christ Church Meadow and Worcester College grounds

23. Go to a college formal (and check off every single college if you want to)

24. Go to the Corpus Christi Tortoise Fair

25. Go to the Engineering Building top floor for a penthouse-like study spot

26. Stay up all night and go to Magdalen Bridge for May Day

27. Go ice skating at the Oxford Ice Rink, or try out Midnight Ice Hockey with ALTS on Wednesdays and Fridays

28. Celebrate Bonfire Night

47. Do Ceilidh dancing somewhere

48. Explore the Oxford Castle and Prison

49. Watch a student production by OUDS or another production company

50. Get some College or society stash and embroider your initials on them

51. Visit all 28 of the Bodleian Libraries

52. Go to the Oxford Botanical Gardens and take a bus to the Oxford Arboretum afterwards

53. Challenge your friends to a round of mini golf at Junkyard Golf Club in Westgate

54. Drop by Pusey Library for free lunch on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for

71. Visit Arcadia, a whimsical and beautifully adorned shop run by the sweetest shop owners you’ll find in Oxford

72. Buy an item from Unicorn on Ship Street, known as a treasure trove of everything and then some, all piled precariously together

73. Write an article for a student newspaper in Oxford

74. Take a cozy break with Oxford University Tea Society

75. Explore the wilderness and nature with the Oxford Ornithological Students Society, or even volunteer with the Oxford Conservation Society

76. Pick your favourite vendor at the Gloucester Green market

77. Visit the yearly Christmas market on Broad Street or the St Giles’ Fair

Read the full article online

Christ Church Meadows. Credit: Yunzhang Liang

Culture

culture@oxfordstudent.com | Deputy Editor: Christina Scote Section Editors: Esme Thomson, Hannah Stewart, Iona Mandal, Meira Lee, Nicole Wong, Sam Field-Gibson Columnist: Jack Wharton

Why impressionism continues to enthrall our generation

There are many things I love about my native Potsdam. Situated to the south-west of Berlin, the city attracts many visitors with its enchanting architecture and rich history. Yet there is one place in particular that always draws me in.

Opened in 2017, the Museum Barberini is situated just off the Havel river, overlooking the scenic old market. It houses a permanent exhibition on Impressionism, largely made up of the private collection of Hasso Plattner, who funded the museum’s construction. In total, the exhibition comprises 107 paintings by Impressionist and Post-Impressionist painters. Especially of note are its 38 paintings by Claude Monet, the biggest collection of the

Jack Wharton is a Theology and Religion student at LMH.

He reviews Grand Cru, a newly-opened wine bar on North Parade Avenue.

artist's work outside of France. What always strikes me when strolling through the white-walled gallery spaces is

“ In a world flooded with imagery dominated by photographic clarity, Impressionism's lack of definition is a breath of fresh air.

the number of young people intently studying the various pictures on display. Even outside of the museum, it is not uncommon to see teenagers in the city with phone cases or

North Parade Avenue is one I walk regularly. It offers a convenient - yet not mundane - route to many of the places I visit most frequently, and also happens to be the home of my favourite (and closest) pub. Given this fact, and my borderline insufferable obsession with all things wine, I challenge you to picture the look of ecstasy on my face when I saw the beginnings of a new wine bar on the street. I can assure you, it earned a dramatic eyeroll from my partner.

Given the high-quality nature of Oxford’s wine bars, my expectations were high. Dreams of stumbling a mere few streets home with a belly full of charcuterie and Puligny-Montrachet refused to leave my head, and I found myself very excited for this new place to open.

I’ve visited the bar twice since it first caught my eye,

key chains depicting Impressionist works by Van Gogh or Monet. There is something about the artistic style that simply seems to speak to our generation.

Part of this is undoubtedly due to Impressionism’s signature focus on an undefined rendering of scenery. In a world flooded with imagery dominated by photographic clarity, Impressionism’s lack of definition is a breath of fresh air. Instead of imitating reality, it engages with the viewer by having them imagine the scene and filling in details that might only be hinted at in the painting. Impressionism almost makes the act of looking at an image and immersing oneself in it a collaborative process. Beyond this, its focus on mundane subjects makes Impressionism more relatable to our generation. Unlike the

and while there was certainly a marked improvement upon my second visit, I still left feeling disappointed. As we entered the bar we were greeted with friendly smiles from the staff and shown to a comfortable table for two. The bar was welllit, with tasteful decor and a good pop of colour in the furnishings. There were perhaps two or three other tables in, but given that it was around nine o’clock on a Thursday, I think a bit of slow trade can be chalked up as par for the course. Serenading our evening was an eclectic mix of jazz covers of various popular songs from the last 40 years. Altogether, there’s little to criticise in regards to the atmosphere of Grand Cru.

Shortly after sitting we were presented with a wine list and some menus, which was when that first pang of disappointment landed. Laminat-

plethora of artworks centered around the representation of mythological or biblical subjects, the landscapes and portraits commonly depicted by Impressionist painters are more approachable to the average viewer. They capture a rapidly modernizing society that features many of the visual cues familiar to us nowadays. Steel suspension bridges, trains, urban landscapes, all of these

ed menus littered with corrective tape have their place, but it rings rather more of a beachside pub on the Costa del Sol than a relaxed-yetclassy wine bar in a decidedly upmarket area of Oxford. It must be said that the range of non-wine drinks on offer is commendable for a bar focused on wine, but the offerings on the wine list would be a let-down for any oenophile. Quite simply, there’s not that much range on offer. As we weren’t in the market for a full bottle each, we were limited to eight whites, six reds, one rosé, and three sparkling wines. Every wine available by the glass cost between £7 and £10.50, and while some wines were slightly more offthe-beaten-path than others, the vast majority of the wine list was made up of crowd pleasers. While I won’t doubt the efficacy of this as a business model, other venues in

things provide the viewer with a sense of familiarity. Yet simultaneously, many of these paintings were painted in the open and from life, giving them a sense of authenticity sometimes lacking in other styles.

This authenticity is combined with a focus on representing the emotions brought forth by a scene.

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Oxford offer a much more interesting array of bottles that appeal to the wine-loving crowds of this city. Wine preservation systems such as Coravin are becoming standard practice in many establishments, and I can’t help but feel that Grand Cru is missing out slightly by not putting this technology to use. Lack of range aside, the two wines that we ordered were pleasant. I opted for a Pinot Noir with a bit of age, and my partner picked out a fresh, floral Pinot Gris. Service was quick and with a smile, my only gripe came from the rather strange decision to serve both wines in the same style of glass. It’s not unknown for this to be the case in wine bars, but when a place is willing to splash the cash on some high quality Riedel glasses it seems like Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Woman with a Parasol, Claude Monet

Richard Kuehl reflects on the art genre's appeal.

Review: CRUSH by Hannah Eggleton

Meira Lee reviews the new play put on by Write Off Productions.

Teenagers are strange creatures. I don’t know about you, but I was certainly a bit of an awkward, insecure mess in school. That turbulent, in-between phase of adolescence forms the heart of CRUSH – Hannah Eggleton’s debut full-length play. Set against the familiar backdrop of classrooms, homework and extracurriculars, the play captures the volatility of teenage emotion, packaging desire, angst and confusion into one riveting tale.

The premise is simple but effective. A group of students from St Margaret’s School for Girls is preparing to put on a production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream alongside a boys’ school, under the direction of their bright-eyed English teacher, Ms Evans (Georgina Cooper).

Annie (Juliet Taub), earnest and excitable, finds herself nursing a burgeoning crush on Ms Evans. When Ms Evans opens applications for the role

“ Eggleton's writing is brilliant, spirited, and thoroughly entertaining.

of assistant director, Annie leaps at the opportunity, eager to work with Ms Evans more closely. Jo (Hannah Eggleton), Annie’s best friend, is the more level-headed of the two, always bringing Annie back down to earth. The duo introduce us to Mary (Sasha Ivano-

va), the sullen new girl who hardly participates in class. When Ms Evans hands the coveted role of assistant director to Mary, the shock sends Annie spiraling. With each rehearsal, Annie grows increasingly jealous, suspicious and obsessed, convinced that something untoward is happening between Mary and Ms Evans.

Eggleton’s writing is brilliant, spirited, and thoroughly entertaining. The first half is delightfully silly – full of schoolroom clichés, teenage gossip and one-liners that can only be described as comedy gold. The dialogue feels natural; the pacing is brisk but just right. There is never a dull moment in the play. Annie and Jo often address the audience directly, breaking the fourth wall to share confidences and com-

mentary that create a vibrant dual world – one grounded in classrooms, the other in the characters’ inner lives. Fantasy and daydream bleed into the everyday. It’s immersive and theatrical in all the right ways.

The show boasted a stellar cast, with Juliet Taub giving a captivating performance as Annie. She nails the twitchy

energy of a student desperate to impress; a well-meaning goody-two-shoes who is mildly insufferable. Taub’s ability to switch moods on a dime –smiling, then aggressive (in her imagination), then smiling and nervous again – is impressive. Eggleton, stepping in last-minute as Jo, proves to Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

The Phoenician Scheme: a review

Richard Kuehl reviews the newly-released Wes Anderson film.

Wes Anderson used to be a disruptive force in Hollywood. His style is instantly recognizable. Since the major success of his 2014 The Grand Budapest Hotel, the general public has a clear sense of what to expect from the director: impeccable symmetry, dollhouse-like sets, pastel colors and stiff line delivery. All these aspects are present in his newest feature film The Phoenician Scheme. Nevertheless, it feels like a shadow of his earlier works.

Whereas films like The Royal Tannenbaums (2001), Fantastic Mr Fox (2009) and Moonrise Kingdom (2012) possess a genuine sense of humanity, The Phoenician Scheme is a contrived story, centered around a convoluted plot with forgettable characters. Although it is a step up from Anderson’s definite career low point, Asteroid City (2023), it is still plagued by

issues similar to those of its predecessor.

The plot of the film follows the wealthy businessman Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro) and his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), as they vis-

“ Wes Anderson films increasingly feel like parodies of Wes Anderson films. However, Anderson himself isn't in on the joke.

it various eccentric investors in order to woo them for their infrastructure project. The pair is accompanied by the newly appointed tutor and insect

specialist Bjorn (Michael Cera), who provides part of the film’s comic relief.

The latter is probably the greatest standout amongst the star-studded cast that includes Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hanks, Willem Defoe and Scarlett Johansson. The only weak link of the ensemble is Mia Threapleton, who clearly had trouble adapting to Anderson’s style and sticks out like a sore thumb.

Yet I have to give credit where credit is due: The Phoenician Scheme still retains much of Anderson’s technical brilliance. The minutely choreographed shots, painstakingly symmetrical composition and gorgeous set design deserve to be mentioned. For them alone, The Phoenician Scheme might be worth a watch. It is only in comparison to Anderson’s ambitious earlier works that the film pales.

If the film proves anything, it is the detrimental effect of excessive fame and unlimited artistic freedom have on creatives. Wes Anderson films increasingly feel like parodies of Wes Anderson films. However, Anderson himself isn’t in on the joke. The Phoenician Scheme is a work that caters to his own peculiar tastes and sense of humour. It combines repetitive, silly moments with its monotonous line delivery to create a kind of comedy that could at best be

described as childish.

For a supposed comedy, it barely got a few chuckles out of my audience. That in itself is a sign of the director’s aloofness. Somebody needs to bring Anderson down to earth again.

If you like Anderson’s more recent films such as The French Dispatch (2021) or Asteroid City (2023), you will undoubtedly enjoy The Phoenician Scheme. If not,then Anderson’s latest work will in all likelihood leave you cold.

Image credit: Thomas Fox

Screen grab from The Phoenician Scheme (2025)

What’s On?

Crocodile Tears. Labyrinth Productions puts on a student-written play by Natasha Norton. 10th-14th June, Burton Taylor Studio.

The Writer. Fennec Fox Productions puts on a student-written play by Ella Hickson. 11th-14th June, Pilch Studio.

Going Postal. This Terry Pratchett play is being put on by the Oriel student drama society. 12th-14th June, Oriel College.

Yuko Sano piano recital. The recital includes a 20-minute pre-concert talk by Emmanuel Sowicz introducing the evening’s programme. The performance will then begin at 7:00pm. Saturday 14th June, Holywell Music Room.

Piano recital by Tim Horton. Part of the Oxford Coffee Concerts series. Sunday 15th June, Holywell Music Room.

QUEER FEST. Oxford's queer new writing festival. 16th-21st June, Burton Taylor Studio

Picnic, Pimms, Playreading and Pals. OUDs offer the opportunity to unwind with fellow thespians at the tail end of term. Wednesday 18th June 2pm, Port Meadow.

"Oxford Trees". Oxford Festival of the Arts hots Emma Coleman-Jones in conversation with Arabella Warner. There will be some of Emma Coleman-Jones’ art on display. Thursday 19th June, Oxford University Museum of Natural History, Westwood room.

The Death of a Martini

Ava Doherty mourns the cultural fate of this drink.

Have you ever found yourself halfway through a third bottle of Château Margaux — nostalgic, slightly tipsy, and deeply concerned about the fate of the martini? No? Just me?

Well, someone has to care. Once the symbol of sleek rebellion and sartorial poise, the martini languishes on sticky bar menus like a faded starlet on a tragic reality show. Once upon a cocktail hour, it was all sharp tailoring, cold steel, and cooler glances. A drink that could carry a whole decade on a cocktail pick. Now? It just tastes like industrial decadence, London Fashion Week in a can. Or worse: a Tory fundraiser in a Pret. What happened? We used to be martini people. James Bond. Dorothy Parker. Early Madonna. The kind of drinkers who knew that elegance was not about excess but precision. One olive, not five. However, even Carrie Bradshaw, once

the spiritual patron saint of bar-top drama, has left those faithful olives behind. The cosmopolitan is cloying. The espresso martini is a cry for help. And the negroni sbagliato? Gimmick. Pure TikTok. It is not Sex and the City but Sex and the Recession.

I worry – deeply, genuinely, and with a mild hangover – that the 1920s elegance we tried to revive with Great Gatsby-themed balls has evaporated like vermouth on a radiator. We are not entering a second Jazz Age. We are marching, with disturbing coordination, into the 1940s. There is no jazz, no joy, just rationing, and an alarming number of men in double-breasted blazers working in finance who think hosting dinner is an act of moral resistance. The only swing is in the polls, and it is terminal.

The Martini Madam is dead. Found in a Soho cloakroom, face-down in an empty glass, surrounded by bad Tinder matches and unpaid bar tabs.

Recipe for the Modern Martini (serves one, reluctantly):

50ml gin (preferably distilled in a suburb of Toronto by a former tech entrepreneur who now makes spirits that taste like regret)

5ml vermouth (symbolic only – do not taste)

Ice (from your ex’s freezer)

Garnish with:

One desiccated olive

A rogue thought about that hot guy from Paris who ghosted you

And a whisper of national disillusionment

Shake vigorously as though trying to expel the memory of everything you said at the last department drinks. Strain into a glass you stole from a wedding. Sip thoughtfully while Googling: “How to move to Lisbon without speaking Portuguese?”

Postscript from the Future

Some say the martini will return — like vinyl, irony, or public trust in the BBC. However, it will not be in a speakeasy with velvet booths and an overpriced twist if it does. It will be at a party where some-

one plays Roxy Music, and no one has said the word “vibe” in three years. It will be poured by someone in a well-pressed suit who asks how you are doing and listens — a drink made by a grown-up for another grownup. Imagine!

Until then, we are all drinking punch from jam jars, trying to feel something. So next time you order a martini, remember:

You are not just choosing a drink. You are making a statement. One that says: “I may be spiralling, but I will do so… with glassware.”

Hymn to Dionysus: a review

Sophie Harrison is a Culture Section Editor at The Oxford Student.

If you grew up reading every Percy Jackson book, have a beloved copy of The Song of Achilles , listen to the Hadestown soundtrack on a loop, and run to the bookshop on hearing “beautifully developed queer romance”, this is the book for you. So Bloomsbury says, in marketing Natasha Pulley’s latest novel, The Hymn to Dionysus . Well, check, check, check, double check. And yet, the book is far from any mythical retelling I’ve read before. As one Goodreads reviewer puts it, “this book isn’t for fans of books about Ancient Greece, it’s for fans

of books by Natasha Pulley.” Fortunately, I happen to be one.

At first glance, The Hymn to Dionysus does resemble BookTok favourite The Song of Achilles, and not just in terms of their titles. Both are tender love stories between two men, in some combination of a fearsome warrior and one of (semi-)divine origin, set in

“ ...where The Song of Achilles ends is more like where Hymn to Dionysus begins.

Diego Caumont via Pexels

Ancient Greece. But where The Song of Achilles ends is more like where The Hymn to Dionysus begins. The protagonist, Phaidros, is already broken; he’s fought, lost everything, and gone on a whole vengeful, murderous rampage. Now, he’s got to find a way to go on living, waiting for something or someone that

might make it worthwhile. Suffice it to say, it’s not much of a happy tale. From the prologue, Phaidros warns us that he will “do what the bards always ask the Muse for” and tell us a story about “rage, and a complicated man”. Whose rage? And who is the complicated man? Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Karla Munoz Rosas via Pexels

I have watched all of "You"

Ivett Berenyi reflects on the Netflix show after having finished it.

Midway through Season 5 Episode 4 of 'You', I slammed my laptop shut. I grew frustrated because this is not how it was supposed to go. At that point, Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) was getting away with absolutely everything: murder, abduction, psychological torture and a love affair with Bronte (Madeline Brewer). Nevertheless, the second half picked up pace and I was locked in –thankfully not in Joe’s cage, as I was safe in my accommodation.

Where do you and I begin?

Over the previous seasons, Joe continuously interrogated his own identity, attempting to reconcile the murderer and the devoted hopeless romantic who is only protecting his love interests. Season 4 introduced a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde doubling trope through atmospheric elements and literary allusions. Season 5 completely internalised the trope – Joe’s sense of doubleness depended solely on nar ratives he created. As expect ed, he struggled to fix his real identity, the sincerity of his actions and attachments even as his internal mono logues obsessively insisted on the idea of ‘the real me.’ At first, I found this trend incredibly jarring but lat er realised the significance of this insistence. For the first time, viewers were not seduced by the psychological explanations and explora tions of the monologue. His detached ru minations of a “real” perso na alienat ed viewers, prompting them to view Joe’s actions as removed from at tempted psycholog

ical reasoning.

“ Decentering Joe from the narrative is essential: his victimhood is diminished

Bronte’s character brings nuance to this exploration. Episode 6 is centred around her testimony following Clayton’s murder (under her real name, Louise Flannery) where she traces the journey that brought her to New York. With some online friends, she wanted to investigate the murder of Guinevere Beck, Joe’s first victim (thought to be murdered by her therapist). This involves a great deal of her own narration. Hearing so extensively from a different perspective further removes us from Joe’s psyche and gives insight into the nuanced motivations of peripheral characters. Decentring Joe from the narrative is

between Louise and Joe. Over the previous seasons, Joe constructed his identity around love affairs and obsession with other women. In a way, he presented himself according to his notion of what women desired; nevertheless, his murders continuously reaffirmed the underlying criminal and antisocial tendencies of character.

Louise’s doubling as Bronte, the undercover pseudonym she uses to infiltrate Joe’s circle, helps to unfold the fallacies Joe falls in when he supposedly falls in love. He is entangled with Bronte – he barely refers to Louise by her own name, even after he learns this fact – which exposes the idealistic and unrealistic conception of love his internal monologues create. We are, however, disinclined to condemn her as she deceives Joe. Joe has been selfishly deceiving the object of his affection, while Louise intended to bring to light the actual history of Beck’s death.

Stages and pages of love

You Season 5 official poster, cropped

girl”, “punish me” and “control me.” Joe asserts that we have a problem as a society, and I largely agree. He is not convinced by those narratives and grows increasingly doubtful about his own.

The show mercilessly critiques popular modern romance tropes, with a particular focus on the dark romantasy subgenre. Joe fancies himself Bronte’s saviour and their affair as forbidden love. The easily consumable plotlines of forbidden lover and saviour stories become modern-day quixotic tropes. Louise and Joe both write dark romantasy stories, but it is only the female counterpart who is willing to release herself from fiction – Joe cannot let these fantasies out of his

In these terms, the last episode gains poignancy. Joe, now imprisoned, receives letters from his fans claiming they “believe” him. The letter he reads uses popular dark erotic romance phrases like “bad

“ The show mercilessly critiques popular modern romance tropes, with a particular focus on the dark romantasy subgenre.

The last love

I am somewhat conflicted about the presentation of Louise’s character arc. On the one hand, aspects I appreciated were her cutthroat analysis of Beck’s posthumous collection of prose and poetry (edited and supplanted by Joe). The way her suspicions start with a misplaced Ibsen allusion is noteworthy. One the other, her final message is just lacking something. Halfway through the season, she falls victim to Joe’s psychological and sexual manipulation, and, as many victims of such abuse, she has to learn how to see her abuser as such rather

than as a troubled romantic figure. She does manage to untangle herself, but her final message lacks the depth of psychological reflection that I was expecting. She decides not to let her life revolve around Joe and to find herself on her own terms. While the message is undoubtedly nice, it is also what you hear after breaking up with a non-abusive partner. Nevertheless, insight into Louise’s mind in the final moments still managed to broaden the horizons of the show, reminding us that Joe is not the only character with a complex interiority.

The protagonist spends his last minutes of screentime still lamenting his failed relationships, struggling to articulate guilt, but his calm and collected tone brings him closer to us. That being said, I am not sure he deserved a final monologue. Rather than insisting on the sincerity of his flawed conscience, he condemns society for romanticising him in letters. This is an effective meta-cinematic moment, where the audience must reflect on how they approach criminal narratives and dark romance. However, in my opinion, a few minutes of silence, where Joe’s voice is finally cut off from the audience, would have been effective.

What I must applaud is the parallel action between the pilot and the finale: in both cases, Joe Goldberg addresses you.

Identity

Does FemSoc really need a men's

rep?

Hannah Stewart on the state of Oxford's Feminist Society

Iwant to preface this article by saying that I’m writing this as a self-proclaimed feminist. I also want to preface this article by saying that I’m not approaching this from some weird, TERF-y, gender critical perspective, so don’t get it twisted. As a woman and a lover of men (owner of a boyfriend and multiple male friends), I don’t see the appeal in pushing for a man on the committee of a student society made for women. If we really wanted to beat the patriarchy, why are we bringing it into and establishing it within our feminist societies?

Femsoc seems to make an art of milquetoast takes, inspiring questions on the amount of progress we’re actually making. Surely, the presence of someone who hasn’t had to live in the shadow of the double standard since they’ve turned 10 further dilutes the pur-

pose of discussion. From a society that raises the same deradicalised and moot points, prompted by motions that would be at home in the Buzzfeed articles your favourite 2016 commentary youtubers loved to hate, the presence of someone who can’t intrinsically *get it* smacks of a society that puts too little emphasis on being transgressive.

“ Now THAT is really putting the cat among the pigeons, or a cock among the hens!

While I’m not here to argue that men don’t belong at femsoc, picture your stereotypical performative feminist nice guy, sitting at the

identity@oxfordstudent.com | Deputy Editor: Hannah Stewart

Section Editors: Isheta Ahmed, Iona Mandal, Iona Davies

A Seitan-ic Panic!

Hannah Stewart is the Deputy Editor of the Identity section.

If you’re a student at Oxford, you’ll be familiar with a slew of plant-based food days. Vegan Thursdays, Meatless Mondays and the rest, Oxford Colleges now seem to be concerning themselves with what I would consider the ‘Righteous fight’. With at least one day of respite from serving meat products, the ever-so traditionalist college hall systems seem to be increasingly more accommodating of the plant-based lifestyle. And, while I don’t expect the average old Oxford Don to be sporting his Morrissey T-shirt and raiding battery farms with the A.L.F anytime soon, it’s a step in the right direction. However, one problem persists: the quality of the food is passable, at best.

‘is cheating feminist’ seminar, convincing you that it is, and especially with him. Now give him a role in the committee, and THAT really is putting the cat among the pigeons, or in this instance, a cock among the hens.

Men have sought refuge in every other powerful institution in the world; why must we now extend this privilege to men in a feminist space? Nevermind a feminist space in Oxford, one of the top universities in the world and an intellectual monolith! I mean, there are many other political societies for men to hold administrative positions in if they want to make a real political statement. Take OUCA and the Union, (which couldn’t be less feminist even if you stuck, for example, Hugh Hefner on Seccies.), for a good place to start. Why not do that?

It’s not like Oxford colleges are intentionally trying to poison us with their dreaded meat free alternatives, right? Most people on the street agree, when colleges manage to concoct a plant based meal without meat substitutes, it’s usually a lot better. Let’s face it, a hearty lentil tagine trumps a slab of beyond-whatever. Alas, it seems that college catering teams would prefer to serve us rubbery discuses of slop than get creative with their veggie foods. Considering the general state of hall cuisine, it’s clear we’re stuck with chewy tofu and soggy seitan for the time being. The message I’m receiving is that

‘chew-tang clan’ are something to fuck with, so make sure you’ve got a dentist at hand.I can recall sitting outside of Christ Church after an abysmal formal, talking to an alumna about the turgid seitan slab I had received in place of a steak during the course of the night’s blacktie meal. Gristly, tasteless and grey, it seemed apparent that plant-based meals in Oxford haven’t progressed much since the 90s. College Chefs seem to take a brutalist stance on plant-based cooking, with meat-free alternatives being utilitarian, colourless and, for some reason, always assuming a cuboid form (much like the Soviet blocks of the day). Further experience on my home turf, Keble, solidified my suspicions. Throughout my time working the telethon, I became subject to many exercises in plantbased mediocrity; Greasy breaded bean burgers, served with a sliver of vegan cheese and something which, in fitting keble fashion, could only be described as a brick of fried tofu. These culinary crimes, doused in enough grease to send Jamie Oliver into his grave and then make him turn in it, became the baseline for my experience as a plant-based diner in my hall. Multiple of these moments had me stumped, asking in true Seinfeldian fashion, ‘What’s the deal with the Plant-Based food in College Hall?’

A club of gentlemen. Image credit: Wikimedia Commons

Tales from the Himalayas Serene Singh on her experience meeting H.H. the Dalai Lama

Iwoke up at around 5:30 AM in Dharamsala, India. The night before, I had a briefing on what tomorrow’s meeting would be like. Selected to ask a question to His Holiness, I prepared my introduction and my question while sipping lemon and ginger tea at the Nobu House, where I was staying.

I had the rare honour of being invited to his private residence in Dharamsala, India, for a compassion program for changemakers titled “Compassion in Action.” Fifteen student leaders, friends, from around the world were selected for this gathering - each of us working on redesigning our parts of the world and cultivating compassion in totally different ways. My dear sister Ruchi is the founder and chief executive officer of HumanQind, a social design enterprise building equitable, kind, and compassionate cities. An architect and urban designer by training, she adopts a human-centered approach in her work, running design-thinking workshops focused on co-designing everyday spaces with the help of students as young as nine years old.

My dear friend Tim is the

Global Director of Implementation at the Contentment Foundation, where he is growing communities of care, connection and contentment through social-emotional learning in schools. He is also the Wellbeing Advisor to the Educat-

“ I had the rare honour of being invited to his private residence in Dharamsala.

ing for Lifelong Citizenship School in Bhutan and the Country Co-Lead of Design for Change Bhutan. These two exemplify what it means, to me, to be in community where compassion is the angle - the northstarthrough which someone not only works, but leads, and lives.

Each of us from around the world—Zimbabwe, Kenya, Bhutan, South Africa, Vietnam, and many more were all Dalai Lama Fellows, and among the fellows worldwide, we were selected as the 15 to represent the fellowship before His Holi -

ness at his personal residence in Dharamsala, India.

Before His Holiness entered the room, his kind staff gave us all cupcakes and tea. We were all seated, enjoying the incredibly hospitable hosts. But I vividly remember heading an audible gasp when His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama entered the room. As he sat down, he panned his eyes across the room, smiling and giggling while making it a point to see each and every person in the room, radiating a profoundly human and spiritual warmth. This person has lived through exile, injustice, and extraordinary pressure yet chooses joy, gentleness, and humility.

When I shared my question, “Your Holiness, I study in Oxford, United Kingdom where I run a nonprofit focused on empowering marginalized communities of women and also, conduct my research is focused on the experiences of women on death row in prison...”

“Your Holiness, my question is: Do you have any advice that might help inspire other people to choose service and practicing care to others as way of life?”

His Holiness reminded me and the audience listening that the point of humanhood gets lost as we become adults. We become fixated and focused on our differences, things that we want but never actually needed. He shared about returning to the most basic needs of a newborn baby - something every single person should constantly revisit in their lives to remember the point of humanity: a mother’s love, safety, and peace. Right as HHSL was answering a question that was asked, he pointed at someone’s cupcake and remarked, “I want that.”

Because of HHDL’s health complications and older age, he was given normal bread and water while the audience

had, as mentioned, cupcakes.

But upon requesting for someone’s cupcake, the audience member, a dear mentor of mine Dean of Virginia’s School of Leadership Ian Solomon stood up and handed the cupcake to HHDL. Seconds later, HHDL took a big bite out of a cupcake. HHDL’s worried and cautious staff swiftly came and took his cupcake away, but at this point the audience had a huge collective laugh about this moment, how pure, precious. Even HHDL remarked something to the effect of“See? Every human being is exactly the same, we all want the same things.”

At some point in the 45 min-

“ See? Every human being is exactly the same, we all want the same things.

utes or so we were sat with HHDL, us friends broke out into song, “Open my heart and let it overflow, open my heart and let it overflow, let it overflow with love.” HHDL smiled, giggled, and turned to his translator of many years and someone so crutcual to our trip and experience, Jimpa, asking “what are they saying” to which Jimpa described the

song and reminded the audience how much HHDL enjoyed listening to the tune and even more so, now he knows the words.

For me, the experience was not just a personal milestone. It was a return to my roots. As a Sikh American woman who grew up in a post-9/11 nation, I learned how to constantly defend my identity and faith as I firsthand saw the effect of ignorance leading to fear and then to hatred. I wanted to educate those around me long before ignorance ever could morph itself into anything else. My path has never been about blending in. It has been about creating spaces where others no longer have to justify their existence. Whether that means organizing Oxford’s first Sikh langar, coaching incarcerated students, or bringing the first turbaned Sikh speaker to the Oxford Union, my work is rooted in what Sikhism teaches us: Sarbat da Bhalla, the well-being of all. And this continued to follow when I became a Dalai Lama Fellow in 2018.

I continued to be deeply committed to work grounded in compassion and justice. In Sikhi, a central principle is of Oneness, or Ek Onkar, and for me, this Oneness has created a lifelong mission in me to help show that no one is irredeemable. Our society’s obsession with vilifying brokenness and

Shaking Hands with HHDL. Image credit: Serene Singh

HHDL tries a cupcake. Image credit: Serene Singh

wanting to shame, eradicate, destroy those who have been broken is what shows me how much more compassion our world truly needs. My doctoral research at Oxford focuses on the material experiences of women on death row in the United States. These are women often erased from public consciousness, judged solely by the worst moments of their lives, and left to disappear behind concrete and wire. My work is about humanizing what society has forgot-

ten and reimagining what justice can look like when we center empathy. I have always known I will

“ As a Sikh-American woman, I learned how to constantly defend my identity and my faith.

not be satisfied with climbing a career ladder for its own sake. I want to create, heal, and see brokenness not for it’s cracks alone, but for the ways it can be made whole again. Over the past two years i have served as a Compassion Peer Coach, helping up and coming fellows develop passion projects that energize them and heal their communities through the Renee Crowne Institute at CU Boulder, my alma matter.

Being in Dharamsala, sur-

“ Being in Dharamsala reminded me that I am not alone in this mission.

rounded by people who live their lives in service to others, who see strangers as kin, and who believe in a world shaped by kindness and courage, reminded me

that I am not alone in this mission.

Meeting His Holiness for me was truly not just a moment in time. It felt like a homecoming to my soul, a deep part of myself that always knew what journey was aligned for my life and what values guided me but perhaps something was wanting assurance.

It reawakened something in me that I know it will never go quiet again.

English is my second language, and I sound like AI

Iremember vividly how it was born.

It was a sweltering afternoon in my Vietnamese boarding high school, the kind of heat that makes even the ceiling fans feel apologetic. I had just woken from a midday nap and was trying to focus on a Physics mock exam when my teacher burst into class, breathless with excitement.

“You won't believe what happened while you were asleep,” he said. “It was born. Artificial intelligence. We’re entering the 5.0 era.”

That weekend, back home for a brief visit, I opened my laptop and typed "ChatGPT" into the search bar, still sceptical about the new technology, and fed it my IELTS writing homework: “Some people think that high school students should not waste time studying literature. Do you agree or disagree?” Seconds

later, it returned a perfect, polished essay.One. Two. Three. And here it was. On the screen in front of me, a well-composed essay with seamless grammar and a great thesis statement with valid arguments popped up.

I took a deep breath as if I had seen a ghost. Perhaps I had seen a ghost. I saw the power of it.

The essay was written lavishly, precisely as I was taught in my English class: the use of parallel structure, the dash and em dash, the “not only...but also," the paraphrasing techniques, and so on. Everything. It wrote exactly the way I had been taught, only better.

I felt numb. It took me 12 years to study a language and learn how to compose an argumentative essay with constructive ideas, but it took ChatGPT three seconds to do the same. And better.

After that, AI spread as rapidly as a virus, and soon we could easily encounter AI-generated text in every aspect of our lives: advertising billboards, LinkedIn, social media, arts, books, research papers and so on. Not long after, the AI detector was invented, and when

From that point, I began reading literature, from Walter Scott to Dostoevsky, then read hundreds of college essays written by native English speakers, followed by anthologies and various literary magazines, and finally journalistic pieces from a wide range of newspapers, spanning the UK to the US.

and, above all, humanely. In the competition against AI, I won.

But did I?

Now, perhaps yes, but next year, perhaps not.

AI feels like a rocket, trailing behind humanity. Since its emergence, not only have I, but also many

“ It wrote everything exactly the way I had been taught, only far better! “ I turned every sentence into a test. Could AI have written this?

I tried feeding my handwritten essay to the machine, it came up with the shocking answer: over “70% AI-generated.”

Over the next three months, I read countless articles to answer the big question: “Why?” and “How?”. Specifically, why does my writing sound like AI, and how can I stop writing like an AI? I feel that AI hates me, would love to take my credit and then take my place.

I could no longer trust my old textbooks, as they taught me the same language that AI wrote. I must be better!

I wasn’t just reading to improve anymore, I was reading to prove that I was still human. That I could still write something no machine could replicate. That I was still worth reading. I begged every piece I read to answer one question: “Why? Tell me why I did not feel human enough on the paper?”

I turned every sentence into a test. Could AI have written this? I wanted the answer to be no. I wanted every paragraph to scream: “I’m still here. I’m still human.”

The AI detector score I received decreased month after month, and last year, I got my very first “0% AI-generated” result. Since then, I have written multiple pieces, with very few being identified as AI-generated, and even so, with a very low score. I figured out how to write beautifully

international students found ourselves constantly racing against it. To remain readable, we must remain unmistakably human. And that means writing better, faster, and with more soul than ever before.

But I know that soon, even native English speakers will have to join this race. AI is advancing rapidly, and one day, not far from now, it may write as seamlessly and artistically as a seasoned English literature author.

We are left with no choice but to learn to keep up with the technology.

Welcome to the 5.0 era!

Image Credit: Deltaworks on Pixabay

Ngoc Diep (Alice) is a visiting student at Keble.

science@oxfordstudent.com

How microbes talk

Omer Mihović discusses quorum sensing in bacteria

A simple quorum sensing system in A. fischeri. LuxI protein triggers light production. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

In the deep sea, a single bacterium floats in the dark, utterly alone, and it drifts past corals and past hydrothermal vents and silt-covered rocks. It is silent and unseen. But then, it senses something. A sign. It is not alone. More of its kind are nearby. And with that knowledge, a decision is made – it lights up. This glowing behaviour, known as bioluminescence, is no accident. It’s a calculated response triggered by a remarkable system of communication known as quorum sensing. Yes, bacteria can communicate, and they make decisions, plan attacks, build biofilms, and even commit collective suicide when it suits

them.

“Quorum sensing” (QS) is the scientific term for how bacteria coordinate their behaviour based on population density of their kind around them. When enough of them are around, i.e. when they reach a quorum, they change their behaviour en masse. It’s democracy at a microbial level. The basic mechanism is relatively simple: first, each bacterium produces and secretes a signalling molecule called an autoinducer. The more bacteria there are, the more autoinducers accumulate in the environment. When the concentration of autoinducers passes a certain threshold, bacteria send a signal into the

environment.

Quorum sensing was first discovered in the 1970s in Aliivibrio fischeri (formerly known to the scientific community as Vibrio fischeri), a sea-dwelling bacterial species that glows in the dark. These bacteria colonise the light organ of the Hawaiian bobtail squid but only turn on their bioluminescence genes when they detect enough of their kind nearby, via a protein released by other bacteria. It was a revelation: gene expression triggered not by nutrients or stress, but by social interaction. Bacteria, long considered solitary, were revealed as surprisingly gregarious.If bacteria can coordinate to glow together, they can coordinate many other things, such as pathogenesis. Pseudomonas aeruginosa, a dangerous pathogen for cystic fibrosis patients, the flagbearer of AMR, uses quorum sensing to coordinate the release of toxins and enzymes that damage host tissues. Many bacteria form dense communities known as biofilms, slimy fortresses stuck to surfaces like catheters, teeth, or river rocks. Inside, bacteria are shielded from antibiot-

ics, immune cells, and other threats. QS helps them decide when to build and maintain these structures. Some species use quorum sensing to turn on genes that pump out antibiotics or neutralize them, but only when resistance becomes truly necessary.

Quorum sensing isn’t just a fascinating quirk as it has profound implications for human health, agriculture, and even technology. Traditional antibiotics aim to kill bacteria. But this causes resistance. An alternative approach is quorum quenching, which interrupts bacterial communication so they can’t coordinate attacks or form biofilms, sowing discord among enemy ranks. Scientists are testing QS inhibitors against pathogens like P. aeruginosa, Staphylococcus aureus, and Vibrio cholerae. Early results are promising, with reduced virulence and enhanced susceptibility to antibiotics. QS systems also influence how plant pathogens invade roots or form protective communities. By targeting the bacterial quorum sensing systems, we might develop eco-friendly pesticides or growth promoters. What if we could engineer

bacteria to form patterns, build structures, or even compute? Researchers are using QS circuits to make bacteria perform tasks in a synchronized way, like switching fluorescence on and off in rhythmic waves, or dividing labour in bioproduction systems. Bacteria with engineered QS systems could one day act like living computers, sensors, or factories.

When we imagine complex societies, we often look up and see bees, birds, primates, or humans. But perhaps we should also look down, into the hidden world beneath our feet and inside our bodies. Bacteria have been holding chemical conversations for billions of years, forming alliances, waging wars, and evolving social structures, all without a nucleus, let alone a brain. Quorum sensing reveals them not as solitary invaders, but as communicative organisms shaping their world through cooperation. Next time you feel alone in a crowd, remember: even bacteria wait until there’s a quorum before making their move.

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Tuberculosis and the anthropocene

Nicola Kalita reviews ‘Everything is Tuberculosis’ by John Green

Tuberculosis (TB) is a disease that has quietly shaped human history in more ways than one, and Green sees it “as a form and expression of injustice”. This is the central theme of ‘Everything is Tuberculosis’. Rather than following the structure of a popular science book, describing the molecular mechanisms of pathogenesis in lengthy detail, Green focuses on people. The pathogen that causes TB, Mycobacterium tuberculosis, discovered by

Robert Koch in 1882, is indeed biologically unique. It has a slow growth rate, and begins to form ‘tubercules’, a fatty, thick wall that is not penetrable by the immune system. As it continues to feast on dead cells and tissue in the tubercules, it can continue to spread elsewhere once the immune system is unable to produce enough white blood cells. However, Green argues it is more than just a disease - it is ultimately a disease of inequality and global indiffer-

ence. His writing style lends perfectly to the theme, as it feels more like retelling of human history through the lens of TB, rather than a ‘cut and dry’ scientific retelling. Green begins with human stories, particularly those affected, such as Henry from Sierra Leone. He notices the eerie connections to the disease, hence the title, everything is tuberculosis, and how it disproportionately affects individuals from low-income countries. Sierra Leone, for

example, often reduced in global discourse to a “poor country”, continues to bear a heavy TB burden. The legacy of war, colonisation and epidemics like Ebola has weakened the country’s capacity to deal with persistent illnesses. Rather than criticising the very systems in place, the burden transferred to the individual - fighting stigma alongside the disease itself is very hard, and it is often a mark of disgrace, associated with poverty, perceived choice and moral

Deputy Editor: Yuhan Wang

Section Editors: Nicola Kalita, Nicholas Gan, Omer Mihović

Henry, recovering TB patient from Sierra Leone. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

failures. This is tied with “patient non-compliance”; instead of deeply evaluating the structures of social order that make compliance difficult, cost, living conditions, un-

managed side effects, societal stigma, it’s easier to blame the patient.

By the mid-20th century, highly effective treatments, formed the backbone of TB therapy. It should be noted that BCG is the only effective TB vaccine, and while it remains an important tool for prevention, it cannot stop TB alone. TB rates dropped due to implementation of this treatment, as well as preventative measures, however the cure did not reach everyone though, and TB rates remained high in new nations developing from colonisation due to malnutrition and poverty.

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Black Holes on High Street, Oxford

Cici Zhang explores the connection between science and language

Credit: Cici Zhang

As mass is packed into a small, dense volume of space, the energy of a too-bright star collapses on itself, creating a gravitational void that even light cannot escape. We call this a black hole. There are a million fascinating things to be said about black holes: that they can warp space-time, that at their center we may find a singularity where the known laws of physics break down, or that the measure of entropy in a black hole’s event horizon proposes the Holographic principle, which may allow for parallel universes to exist. But among all this excitement, I wish to draw attention to a linguistic fact: that the phrase ‘black hole’ is a metaphor. Black holes, specifically, are not openings or ruptures in the cosmos. These are not literally holes. They are huge concentrations of matter, taking the form of astronomical objects—in some cases—after a massive star runs out of fuel and explodes in a supernova. They do not, as far as we know, lead anywhere. A black hole’s force of gravity is the only thing we detect. To refer to this phenomenon as a ‘hole’ is, crucially, metaphorical.

No scientist likes to believe they’re speaking in metaphors. But they are. In the lan-

guage of astrophysics, phrases such as ‘black holes’ are no longer considered features of figurative language. This is a phenomenon that linguists call conventionalised metaphors. We use them when we say that your heart is ‘broken’, that your mind is ‘blown’, that someone has been ‘under the weather’, or that someone has ‘passed away’.

Scientific vocabulary often involves conventionalised metaphors. We refer to light and gravity as ‘waves’. We refer to quantum ‘ripples’ and quantum ‘foam’. Our galaxy’s inflation field is a contributor to a possible ‘bubble’ multiverse. In such, the language of

“ What would language be without the experiences of space, distance, and time integral to human existence?

particle physics often shows semantic relations to water.

Thinking of the ‘black hole’ in terms of its shared features with a literal hole — a concave space that may hold things—

helps us understand how black holes can both store and release energy, like containers. As a black hole retains the mass and the angular momentum of the original star, every time it absorbs something, its mass grows. This particular property also demonstrates similarity to how a hole may ‘contain’ matter inside it. Metaphors in science help us understand the properties of a certain phenomenon by appealing to similarities between different things.

Cognitive linguistics explain metaphor as the notion of mapping between conceptual domains: the movement from a source domain to a target domain. The source domain is a feature of everyday language often related to our individual, ‘embodied’ existence. Because of our dependence on metaphor, scientific theories are inseparable from ‘embodied’ experiences. Scientific discourse is defined by the social context in which the scientist works.

In the discourse of science, figurative language has rhetorical, heuristic, and cognitive value: it improves the communication and education of scientific concepts, facilitates discovery of new hypotheses, and enables internal analogical reasoning. This imaginative exercise performs what Theodore L. Brown calls ‘metaphorical entailment’: where an inferential relationship between accepted knowledge and conjecture is constructed upon a background metaphor. When we refer to some cell transport proteins as ‘channels’ in biology, for example, we transfer experiences in the macroscopic world to make sense of something in the microscopic world, in acknowledging the permeability of these proteins to certain ions.

The ‘act of naming’, Brown writes, constructs intellectual

parallels through the metaphor’s power to direct experimental thinking.

But language is untamable. It metamorphoses, shifts. Ingrained metaphors with scientific meaning persist in everyday speech. When we refer to the pull of gravity left behind by a collapsed star as a black hole, we employ figurative language to express a scientific idea. Yet over time, we’ve also begun to use the same phrase in ordinary social contexts. The term an ‘emotional black hole’ is com-

“ But language is untamable. It metamorphoses, shifts

monly employed in the language of pain.

What are the similarities between a feeling of sadness and a gravitational pull light-years away from our orbit? Although the metaphor seems simple, I find it poignant. Shared features between the two, I think, are a lack of boundaries. By drawing an analogy between an emotional struggle and an astrophysical black hole, we acknowledge that both are overwhelmingly opaque. Both are invisible to the naked eye. Both convey something that appears to have limits but, in fact, has none. We fall back on the language of science when we want to describe emotions and experiences that feel too big to fully express. The phrase emotional black hole performs a case of what Andrew Goatly calls the ‘literalisation of vehicles’, where a lexical item that has been used literally is then used as a source term, in the aims of imparting ‘a symbolic

value to the literal inference’ (2007:13). The fact that a black hole’s existence is detected only through its gravitational pull, its effects, almost parallels our own struggle to process the pain of a mental illness. How can we cope with pain that isn’t externally visible? How can we identify the source of a feeling that is only known by its effects: the racing heartbeat, the lightheadedness, the nausea?

What would science be if we didn’t have the language to express and understand it? What would language be without the experiences of space, distance, and time integral to human existence? Certainly, in science it matters that we find analogies to aid understanding. But what about for us? For the laymen, the casual borrowers of words, what does it mean when we say that this depression, this loss, is a ‘black hole’?

Who knows if loss feels more like being in a box, or in a crater, or in a cylinder? If the primary features of grief implies experiencing a spatial absence, how far does this emptiness take us? Does pain have boundaries? Do we pound our fists against its borders, begging to be set free, or is hurting—grieving—a limitless drift, nothing but spin?

The sun sets over a sloping roof. I walk down a sidewalk that’s mostly empty. I am surrounded by people who, like moving voids, exert gravitational pulls that stem from our innate desires to be acknowledged, seen, cared for. We are, each of us, walking around with holes in our hearts.

We have to find new ways to say these things, don’t we, so that we don’t risk sounding

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

The OxYou

Deputy Editor: Will J. L. Lawrence | Section Editors: Arun Lewis, Louise Guy

Dear Future Freshers: A Letter For October

Future freshers at Lazarus College - your future college parents have some things to say...

As the ducks waddled around the fountain in our front quad, preening themselves in the sun, my college husband and I began writing our letter to the unfortunate souls who will be our children in Michaelmas. My initial intention (who knows what he was thinking), was to write something short and sweet, making them feel welcome in the cult that is Lazarus College. Somehow, the Academic Office was not convinced we succeeded…

‘Dear Freshers, We are Lucifer (law) and Beelzebub (PPE), and we are delighted to be your college parents, namely your guides through the nine circles of Oxford. That is, we will be delighted if we find you as diabolical as we hope: Lazarus College is no place for the faint-hearted or the virtuous. For what it’s worth, here is some advice we would have received from our own parents, had they not promptly disowned us when they saw what had been thrust upon them.

The nine circles of Oxford: Limbo - everyone from an inferior college, i.e. not Lazarus, dwells in this circle, eternally separated from sal-

vation. They are more to be pitied than censured.

Lust - this is located mainly at the sharking door in college, also in some of the better nightclubs.

(Personally, I would advise you to give this circle a miss, as the number of attractive Oxford men is deplorably low. Only worth it if you can use them to climb the ladder in political societies - L. How dare you! - B)

Gluttony - traverse this circle quickly in freshers’ week by drinking an extraordinary amount of alcohol, then performing certain unspeakable rituals. It’s called initiation.

Greed - Port and Policy on a Sunday. You can try bribing the Junior Officers to give you more than a miniscule glass, or just keep emptying it quickly. Sadly, even OUCA is in for a time of austerity, mainly because no respectable venue will consent to their presence within 5 miles.

Wrath - student journalism: the pen, or these days the google doc, is mightier than the sword. Bloodshed frequently occurs at lay-ins when the computer refuses to work. Nobody ever wins, but the thrill of conflict never flags.

(This is how I get back at my

college husband when he annoys me: put him in a satire. - L. Oh so your last one was about me! I should have stabbed you with the OUDS sword in the garden play - B)

Heresy - the foolish souls who dared to express an honest or principled opinion, in utter defiance of Union policy, regret it eternally here. Don’t make their mistake: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it. Backstab your supreme slate leader, but never criticise him.

Violence - this includes violence to others, to the self and to nature, or in other words, being on Standing Committee.

(Everyone will hate you at this point, especially your fellow committee members, but don’t lose heart, for if you can get RO world on your side, your enemies will be crushed under the hammer of Rule 33. - B).

Law - during your first term, you will read cases about cannibalism and sadomasochism, both of which will serve you well in student politics. Also take Lord Hailsham’s words to heart about ‘elective dictatorship’, which you Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

A bulletin

Things are getting a bit serious. All around us, are people we want to see grace the front pages of a Times exposée but by god, they’re not famous enough to be tweeted about in lowercase. Oxford is essentially a giant blender that some bored housewife empties her food waste bin into, buzzes for 35 seconds, and pours out a soup of allegations. Therefore, to encourage a little bit of artsiness (and to get around libel laws), here are a few limericks about the stereotypical characters we see in and around this little city of ours.

Good Manners

No-one could say he lacks manners,

But goths have a good eye for damage

And behind his fringe

A deep fear sings

That he’s empty and destined to vanish

Looker-Uppers

Named after some constellation

But gives victims no compensation

For end of night touching

In good heart, and rushing

To pretend to have read ‘Sex Relations’

A

Jaundice So Bitter

A young man at some Turl St College

Is now grappling with the knowledge

That those that he chased

Now sit in The Grapes

Learning once again how to chew solids

Dead-liver-in-

Chief

If the words don’t be treating you fine,

Yeah, Shah’s got no essay writing time, Ram a crisp naan

At your fav kebab van

And chat up cheeky Greek-y girls with better lines!

Yo, Ya Sat For This One?

There once was a young man from HABS

Whose fingers made very strange stabs

Rolls up his joints

v

Touches erogenous points

With the De Beauvoir he nabs.

And now, for your consideration, a sonnet. FOLLY

-oh for sure it’s well-construed

(to tell the truth I’m not quite sure they planned it)

Read the full article online at www.oxfordstudent.com

Trout Fishing In America

A trout, certainly involved in trout fishing. Credit: TJFree

Louise Guy

Greyhound racing in modern day Britain

When my uncle told me he owned a sixteenth of a greyhound, I paused. Not because of the number, fractional dog ownership feels oddly modern, like crowdfunding meets Winalot, but because I genuinely thought greyhound racing had trotted quietly into extinction somewhere between the death of the VHS and the rise of quinoa.

Greyhound racing, for many, conjures grainy black-andwhite images: foggy stadiums, flat caps, Woodbines, men shouting “Go on, Lassie!” into the industrial night. It was the soundtrack of working-class Britain, a rhythm of weeknights that sat somewhere between the pub and the pit. However, for a younger generation raised on TikTok and touchscreens, greyhound racing seems as remote as Morse code.

So why, in 2025, does it still exist? And why is my uncle, a

man whose working-class credentials I might debate over a pint of Doombar, wearing his investment like a war medal?

“ In the mid-20th century, greyhound racing was the second-most attended sport in the UK after football.

To understand this, we need to consider what greyhound racing was. In the mid-20th century, it was the second-most attended sport in the UK after football. Stadiums dotted the map, local, accessible, and cheap. It wasn’t about prestige. It was about presence. You showed up, had a bet, shouted, lost, laughed, and went home to a chip sup-

per. For many, it was a social glue, male homosociality in its purest form. Not quite pub, not quite sport, but a ritual of masculinity without the peacocking of rugby or the tribal warfare of football.

It was also, crucially, working-class. A space where class lines were clear, if unspoken. The dogs were not horses. The coats were not tweed. This was no Ascot. It was Barking, both literally and metaphorically. But as Thatcherism nibbled at the bones of industrial Britain, and Sky Sports glittered with premiership lights, the greyhound track started to empty. Betting shifted online, the pubs became wine bars, and stadiums were bulldozed in favour of luxury flats optimistically described as “urban sanctuaries.” The sport didn’t die. It just receded into corners. County tracks. Pub chatter. Your uncle’s WhatsApp group.

And yet, like a determined whippet in a thunderstorm, greyhound racing has persisted.

Now, oddly, it’s being sniffed at by Gen Z. A generation known for anxiety, activism, and aesthetic minimalism is beginning to rediscover this scruffy, visceral sport. Part

“ He calls it a “bit of fun”, but I suspect it’s something more. A way to participate in something related to history.

of this revival might be ironic, like mullets or Polaroids, but it seems more sincere than sneering. Some see it as nostalgic, others as a form of resistance to algorithmic modernity. Greyhound racing, in all its analogue messiness, offers something real: a muddy track, the smell of chips and

dog hair, and a brief communal howl at fate.

This is where Born to Run, Michael Morpurgo’s lesser-known (and perhaps hypothetical) meditation on the life of a racing greyhound, becomes oddly poetic. It paints the greyhound not as a machine but as a being, bred to sprint, forced to perform, and discarded or loved, depending on whose hands they fell into. There’s something heartbreakingly classed about that too, how the dogs’ fates mirror the people who followed them. Fast-moving, undervalued, resilient.

In 2025, we are suspicious of nostalgia, and rightly so. But not all backwards glances are reactionary. Some are re-evaluative. Greyhound racing might never return to its heyday (and ethically, perhaps it shouldn’t). Still, the spaces it opened for community, for class expression, for collective hope and disappointment are being remembered. Some Gen Z’ers are even documenting races on TikTok, ironically set to house music, or bringing dogs back into post-club recovery culture. It’s weird. It’s sincere. It’s strangely British. Meanwhile, my uncle watches his fractional dog sprint around a makeshift county track. He hopes it wins, of course, he does. He calls it “a bit of fun,” but I suspect it’s more. A way to participate in something related to history. A way to reclaim a working-class badge, whether or not he earned it. Perhaps that’s what greyhound racing is now, not just a sport but a site of identity negotiation. Who you are, who you were, who you want to pretend to be.

Because at the end of the day, maybe we’re all just chasing the rabbit.

Greyhound racing in the modern day, Credit: Clive Mason

Ava Doherty

The Inheritance Economy of Sport

Ava Doherty on the rise of sporting dynasties, and what it means for the future of competition.

Modern sport is many things: fast, monetised, televised, and increasingly, a family business. Scratch the surface of any Premier League line-up or Wimbledon commentary booth and you’ll find a surname with a suspicious history. The Bellinghams, the Schumachers, the Maldinis, the Eubanks, sport today reads less like a league table and more like a dynastic chart. It’s less FA Cup, more family reunion.

If this all feels faintly Renaissance, that’s because it is. Elite sport has become the Borgia family with shin pads: incestuous, strategic, and excellent at PR. Cesare had a papal father and a poisoned ring; today’s equivalents have Instagram deals and branded shin guards. And yet, the underlying logic is the same: keep power in the family, smile for the fresco.

Nepotism, of course, is rarely presented as such. Instead, we hear about “legacy”, “sporting pedigree”, and “natural tal-

ent”, as if having a footballer for a parent simply means one is born with stronger hamstrings. The polite fiction is that merit and bloodline are separate. The reality is that they’re often indistinguishable. Sport, like a minor aristocracy, thrives on the right surname.

“ This, too, is part of the new economy: it’s not whether you can play the game, but whether your family can.

The statistics, if anyone bothered to collect them, would be comical. For every Jude Bellingham blazing a trail, a younger brother is quietly ushered onto a youth team. For every Gabby Logan, there’s a media producer who already

knew her dad. We watch it happen and call it continuity. But one wonders if elite sport is now more incestuous than Devon in a Brontë novel.

And this isn’t just football. Tennis has the Murrays. Formula One has Max Verstappen and, previously, the Schumachers. Cricket has the Broads and Bairstows. Boxing, meanwhile, is less a sport and more a surname competition. The pattern repeats: you don’t just need talent; you need a family WhatsApp group with at least one minor celebrity.

This isn’t to say these people aren’t talented — often they are. But talent without access is like a striker without a midfield. We’re seeing not just the triumph of ability, but of infrastructural advantage: early coaching, private physiotherapy, agent connections, and a deep cultural fluency in how the system works. You’re not just born into a sport. You’re born into its mechanics. There’s something faintly Shakespearean in all of this. King Richard III opens with

Richard moaning about his misshapen fate and political sidelining — it’s hard not to picture a moderately gifted teenager watching Beckham’s son land another brand deal, whispering, “Now is the winter of our discontent.” The tragedy isn’t just that the system is closed; it’s that it pretends not to be.

David Beckham’s children offer a neat case study. Brooklyn dabbled in football before pivoting to photography and sourdough. Harper, we’re told, enjoys sport, but hasn’t been thrust into competition, not yet. They are, to put it kindly, adjacent to excellence. But even proximity sells. This, too, is part of the new economy: it’s not whether you play the game, but whether your family can.

Chess, ever the outlier, makes things stranger. The Polgár sisters, raised under a homemade psychological experiment, proved that you could manufacture talent if you had the time, the books, and a strong belief in behaviourism.

But even their story is about control a father plotting his daughters’ ascent like a Soviet coach with a vision board. Sport, at the elite level, remains a thing passed down. So, where does that leave the rest of us? Well, on the bench, mainly. Or watching from the stands, wondering why so many squads now resemble an HR spreadsheet filtered by bloodline. We are told sport is about glory and unpredictability. But increasingly, it’s about continuity. The thrill of the game has been replaced by the comfort of a surname. Of course, dynasties are nothing new. But there’s a difference between a game and a coronation. And if sport insists on looking like a Tudor succession crisis in Adidas boots, we may need to rethink how we define talent. Because when the fixture list starts reading like a family tree, and your local youth squad has more legacies than Eton, one begins to suspect: it’s not just the competition that’s tight. It’s the gene pool.

What does PSG’s win mean for football’s relationship with politics?

Tod Manners

Paris Saint-Germain’s Champions League final win was quite something to behold. It was the largest winning margin ever recorded in a European Cup or Champions League final of any era. Not only that, it was achieved not with PSG’s usual bullying spending, but a young, exciting team that made Inter’s side look like they were still stuck in the previous century. PSG have finally made it click. But under the skin, the same concerns remain about a side

that is funded not by its fans, not by normal business activity, but by a sovereign state. More than that - the state in question is Qatar: deeply conservative, deeply repressive, and deeply authoritarian. This is not a new observation, of course. The same handwringing was present at the last two World Cups, when Manchester City won their first Champions League, when Newcastle broke into the top 4 in 2023. But as the rise of these teams, whose primary purpose is not sport but sportswashing, continues, it seems increasingly impossible to keep politics, or

geopolitics out of football.

While this year is the first time PSG have won the Champions League, they have essentially bought Ligue 1 entirely. City, meanwhile, have ridden the wave of Emirati money to the top of the Premier League in six of the last ten seasons

To some degree, of course, we never could. International football has always been tied up in international politics. The legendary (and now banned) chant of ‘Two world wars and one World Cup’ can tell you that clearly enough. Even on the club level, individual clubs have been rallying

points for ideologies and peoples alike. The terraces of Barcelona or Athletic Bilbao were for decades under Franco almost the only public places Catalans and Basques could speak their mother tongues.

Union Berlin was a breeding ground for dissent against East Germany’s repression.

Liverpool has a long-standing association with the city’s own left-wing politics. Arguably, politics has never been absent from football.

So why then does the modern era of Gulf oil money rankle so much? Perhaps it is simply that we find the politics

event more unpleasant than usual, given the whitewashing of some of the world’s worst regimes. Certainly that plays a role in the Guardian’s hangwringing. But I believe there’s something more than that. The footballing politics of yore was an outpouring of the feelings of a club’s community, whether pleasant or not. Now? Politics in football is bought and sold for billions. Maybe football has always been political, but it used to be authentic. That’s what Qatari petrodollars cost us - and why we should do whatever we can to keep them out.

Football, flares, and fanaticism

Hannah Stewart on the Old Firm, Scottish sectarianism, and sport as an engine for religious conflict

Pierre de Coubertin, the man dubbed ‘father of the modern Olympic Games’, proclaimed that ‘sport is a religion, with its own church, dogmas and service’, and this sentiment becomes even more exemplified in the case of football. Deemed the most popular sport in England and Scotland, the conversation surrounding football and the transmission of values has become even more prevalent. In the face of hooliganism, identity politics and a shifting national identity post-Brexit, fans of British Premier League football are increasingly expected to engage with the sport more consciously. Culturally and politically, sport is

Puzzles

deeply entangled with identity, with football teams arguably becoming signifiers of the self.

One of the most poignant examples of football’s role as a vehicle for political and religious identity can be seen in Glasgow’s infamous Old Firm. Scottish football culture provides a beer, and in some cases, blood-soaked canvas for sectarian conflict, embodied within Glasgow’s two opposing teams, Celtic and Rangers F.C. The rivalry between the two clubs transcends regional sporting opposition, encompassing issues far beyond blue vs green. This rivalry is indicative of a culture divided, right into its very core. Becoming a

Cryptic Crossword by Ashwat Jain

centrepiece of Scottish football, the Old Firm is a vehicle for the tensions inspired by the Troubles, nationalism and politics.

“ Religious prejudice is sewn into the collective consciousness of Scottish football.

The sectarianism embedded within Scottish football has provoked international interest and speculation. With Rangers representing protestant scots and Celtic repre-

senting Catholic Irish Scots, the ensuing confrontations are reflective of both religious conflict, and anti-immigrant sentiment. Historical examples of politically charged violence, such as the murder of Mark Scott in 1995, which garnered national attention, have occurred following or preceding Old Firm games. Anecdotes spun by Glasgow residents speak of a cultural issue that is woven into the fabric of Glaswegian culture, with children singing sectarian anthems on schoolyards and run-of-the-mill hooligan scrapes on public transport, which, sadly, are all too commonplace. Religious prejudice within Glaswegian football

culture is endemic, despite contemporary efforts to rectify the issue from both sides. It’s clear that the ritualistic nature of football fandom still seems to invoke a tribalism that enthrals many a ‘90-minute bigot’. While both Rangers and Celtic have released their own respective incarnations of a guidebook on anti-sectarian footie etiquette, this is but a plaster on the wound. Religious prejudice is sewn into the collective consciousness of Scottish football fans, with reported incidents of suspected explosives being mailed to Celtic managers, it is clear that anti Irish-Catholic sentiment is a spectre that continuously haunts the sport.

11. North Indian state is a Pixar film (2)

13. Police unit makes bell sound for shooing flies (8)

14. Target was missing in action, comes back (3)

16. Stylish Barbie’s boyfriend is a bird (7)

18. Two snakes eat more of a popular U.S. sweet (6)

20. Dim the radar, Kendrick holds (6)

21. Make fun of what a car song sounds like? (7)

23. Fry pig oddly, just so you know (3)

25. Aspired to have a trip to heaven (8)

27. First two popes are a panda (2)

30. M&M found in distraught colony regularly (8)

31. Piss on Instagram for showing snow dome (5)

32. Chic sort of style? (7)

33. Type of cheese cabin (7)

Down:

1. Hikaru loses round, writes poem (5)

2. Hurt a South American revolutionary (4)

3. Used to drink, warts went away (5)

5. Shakily rise after instrument planner (9)

6. Man in jail is a master of stealth (5)

7. Sneakily own secret land of scientist’s cot (6-1, 6)

10. Seriously, more actors should have first break (5)

12. Pick up half the photo (3)

13. Pig farm enclosure gets the ick for being gooey (6)

15. Sad elk takes a right (6)

17. Anoraks go crazy for adult joeys (9)

19. Inside deed, if you make someone understand (5)

22. Drop pin to bite sharply (3)

24. Poison ivy or a hard white material? (5)

26. Quick bird (5)

28. Gas one after ounce (5)

29. Parasite on dying leaf (4)

Hearsay (1), Romance (4), Ichor (8), Reigning (9), Up (11), Swatting (13), Aim (14), Chicken (16), Smores (18), Darken (20), Cartoon (21), FYI (23), Paradise (25), Po (27), Commonly (30), Igloo (31), Stylish (32), Cottage (33) Down: Haiku (1), Ache (2), Straw (3), Organiser (5), Ninja (6), Newton’s Cradle (7), Smash (10), Pic (12), Sticky (13), Morose (15), Kangaroo (17), Edify (19), Nip (22), Ivory (24), Swift (26), Ozone (28), Flea (29)