Editorial
The storm of media attention that was focussed on the Oxford admissions system on Friday was an example of the most cynical and obvious gesture politics imaginable. Gordon Brown's seemingly out-of-the blue comments to the TUC was a clear signal that the Labour Party are, in this respect, plunging to new lows in their estimation of the public's intelligence. At the end of last week many Oxford students were struggling to understand why the government, and, in suspiciously rapid succession, the newspapers were becoming so obsessed with the failure of one admittedly bright candidate to make it into our hallowed institution.
The lead story carried in Tuesday's papers may give us some indication. It has now been promised that 28 billion pounds of public money has been earmarked for such areas as improving the welfare of poorer children, combating under-achievement in schools, and crime reduction measures. These are all admirable targets, and deserved much more emphasis in the 1997 manifesto of handy we've-wrote-them-on-a-card-so-you-can-put-them-in-your-wallet vague promises, now forgotten. The lack of emphasis on crime prevention and helping the poorest children was, perhaps, because the 1997 election campaign was directed at Middle England rather than the Labour heartlands who, as any canny spin doctor knows, don't vote anyway.
However, it now appears that there has been a change of tack. For the Labour Party spin machine, Laura Spence must have seemed heaven-sent. A perfect headline-grabbing opportunity to precede the 'concrete' commitments to higher public spending we have seen this week. Rattled by the rapidly spreading blue tide sweeping its way over solid Labour areas like Lancashire, the Government has gone straight for the jugular of entrenched wealth and privilege. Unfortunately for Oxford and its continuing efforts to encourage state school applicants, it was that jugular.
Maybe the Labour Party should be congratulated: after all, it has only taken them three years to realise that it is the poorest people who need most help. Maybe one could feel able to congratulate them if one actually believed the new commitments would come to anything more than the snappy bullet points they came up with in '97. Maybe one would be able to take them more seriously if it were not for the fact that, until this point, the effect they have had on breaking down the barriers they are criticising has been negligible.
The acknowledge of these barriers is, admittedly, a welcome change of opinion from Tony Blair's bland assertion that "we're all middle class now". What seems to be the problem is the complete lack of understanding of what these barriers are. A Geordie accent in an interview for one of the world's most prestigious universities? Or the fact that the most money a student whose parents cannot afford to contribute can receive is around four thousand pounds per year, which they will be paying back for the next twenty years? Or maybe the fact that, in our hopelessly depressed state schools with their underpaid and under-appreciated teachers, any student faces serious difficulties in getting the basic education everyone deserves?
The Laura Spence case is entirely based on rather unconvincing speculation that Magdalen college decided to turn away a perfectly able candidate on the basis that her vowels were too short. It is a fact that, since the introduction of tuition fees and the complete disappearance of the maintenance grant, university applications have declined significantly. Research also suggests that it is the poorer students who have been worst affected, along with mature students who do not have parents to support them. This government have put a price of around £12,000 on a university education: it cannot possibly claim that they are trying to break down barriers.
The true irony of this case is the fact that the prestigious American institution, Harvard, has emerged the hero of the day. In America, a university education costs over £50,000, but scholarships are handed out to those in true need who are especially talented. Those somewhere in the middle lose out, as do those who need to work to support their families. Education is regarded as a commodity: the better the quality, the more you pay, but the fact that some scholarships are awarded means that universities and the government can preserve the illusion that they live in the land of opportunity. This week, our very own vice-Chancellor Colin Lucas assumes the mantle of chairing meetings of the Russell group of elite universities, a group who are far from ruling out the introduction of top-up fees with scholarships for the poorest students. It is little surprise that universities want to market their degrees as commodities in the American manner: after all, just think how much money the really good ones could make. What is surprising is that a government that continues to spin stories about how they are standing up for the poorest member of society appears to have actively encouraged it.
25th May 2000