Dude where's my tute?
Yay! The students have stirred and now cry for revolution! Well, not quite, but a large enough proportion of our blessed alumni are slightly miffed, and rightly so, about the timely death of the Oxford tutorial system. The powers that be have aggravated the sleeping dragon that is the Oxford student body with their lack of consultation and clarity, and by their darn right rudeness by ramming through fundamental changes to the way that undergraduates are taught. So, quintessentially Brideshead, or essentially beneficial? Well, that argument rages on, but permit me to entertain you with first hand insight into the weird and wonderful world of the new and all improved 'Oxford Class System'.
Picture the scene, a cold and wet Wednesday afternoon in George Street and a wide-eyed second year PPEist cycles to his first Comparative Government Class. Anxious but steadfast he approaches the concept with an open mind and a reluctant enthusiasm. In the class the tutor circulates a handout, and a deadly silence befalls that ill-fated room. This was the day that the esteemed system of Oxford tutorials died. Sniggering and tutting follow the silence, and the student is shocked as he skims the questions on the handout. No, he wasn't confronted by an obscenely difficult and intellectually taxing problem; oh no, far from it, but in an annoyingly grating Alan Partridge-esque voice, the tutor tells the pupils to discuss the questions (in groups of four) and summarise points to the class. To the pupil, this seemed strangely like a remedial GCSE history class as he is advised to 'Discuss the main advantages and disadvantages of comparing across countries'. So, the class proceeds for a further one and a half hours and after being transformed into non-responsive automated intellectual zombies, the students leave the room.
It is almost hard to believe that the quality of Oxford teaching has reached such an intellectual nadir at a crucial time when applications are soaring on the one hand, and Oxford is being criticised left right and centre for its admission process on the other. What is more, being asked to write the constitution of an 'imaginary' country for the eighth week class hardly seems to offer any redemption to this ill-thought out and messy predicament.
No doubt, cries of unfairness and blasphemy will be howled from the dreamy spires of Oxford by some exhausted dons, and so we must credit the 'Class System' where it is due. Any hands? Well, to play devils advocate, one might argue that the class system offers an undergraduate opportunity to present to his peers his ideas in a seminary manner. Does this sound like an awfully rehearsed response? It seems to me that the tutorial system offered the perfect arena for such an exercise to take place and besides, who could legitimately argue that in a set-up involving more people that this would expediently occur?
Ok, the cynic might retort, whilst it is not an ideal situation, in times of financial dearth, (as the University argues) such measures need to be taken and the class system is an expedient way to remedy this problem. Oh dear, like S-Club Juniors, this is wrong on so many levels. If we are to take this logic, then what of the exceptional standard of Oxford teaching? What of its international reputation and, more to the point, how are we to attract all those pink pashmina/ Burberry duffle coat wearing intellectual prodigies every year? Moreover, coming from a college as affluent and nauseatingly rich as St John's, (where much of this 'pioneering' is taking place) it seems a weak defence of the move. At stake is Oxford as we know it.
What is most surprising, however, is that the dons have spoken in true 'voice of god' manner without substantive regard for or consultation with those whom their decision most affects - students. To borrow a scene from Dickens, where Grangrind tell his pupils "what's best", those academic heavyweights follow Grandgrind's example and announce their vision of "what's best" before anyone can sneeze.
It is impossible to deny that Oxford has the most talented and eminent academics in the world, and to waste such talent on a system which, to be frank, is itself designed to be less intellectually stimulating seems incongruous. To use another analogy, it is almost like taking a rare and valuable copy of Chaucer's work and using it to prop up an old coffee table. It may be time for that the sleepy dragon that is the student body to take some Pro-Plus and wake up to smell that stale coffee on the proverbial table.
31st Oct 2002