Don’t sneer at redbrick revolutionaries – some of our best leaders were terrible students

Owen Jones in The Guardian

It is the season for academic snobbery, apparently. Labour was once the “clever party”, bemoaned Harry Mount in the Spectator recently, but now it’s had a “brain transplant. It’s out with the Oxbridge and Harvard graduates with first class degrees; in with the redbrick university graduates”. The horror. Martin Amis concurs, slamming Jeremy Corbyn for being “undereducated”. And now Tristram Hunt is at it, referring to Cambridge University students lazily but revealingly as the “top 1%” who had a “responsibility to take leadership going forward”.

Labour risks turning into a sect, says Tristram Hunt



A disclaimer: I am, myself, an Oxbridge graduate, like so many who write on these pages. I’m not ashamed of making the jump from comprehensive schools to Oxford either (although I am no working class hero): if Oxbridge drew more students from non-selective comprehensives, the status quo would be less objectionable. But the comments betray a depressing lack of insight into supposed academic success and its relevance in the world of politics.

First off, Oxbridge does not mean the best. Knowing lots of things and being clever are not the same thing. Yes, Oxbridge is supposed to be about more than stuffing the heads of students full of knowledge – it’s about encouraging critical thinking and the like. But while I met some incredibly bright people at Oxford, I also met others who were certainly not clever at all; similarly, I’ve met people who never attended university who are supremely clever.

Unless you are a social Darwinian who believes the richest are the brightest, in no sense can Oxbridge be described as an academic elite. More than 43% of Oxford students went to a private school, as did 7% of the rest of the population; many of its state school students went to grammars, and a terrifyingly small 11% of Oxbridge students are working class by origin.

We all like to imagine our achievements are down to our own individual ability, and suggestions to the contrary normally provoke defensive and insecure reactions. But the backgrounds of Mount, Amis and Hunt go a long way to explain their successes. Westminster school-educated, ex-Bullingdon Club member Mount is the son of Sir Ferdinand Mount, Margaret Thatcher’s former head of policy. Amis (whose best friend, Christopher Hitchens, was awarded a third-class degree in PPE at Oxford) is the son of literary giant Sir Kingsley Amis, and Hunt is the University College School-educated son of Lord Hunt. Would they have racked up their achievements without their privileged background? It is possible. But very unlikely.

Academic success is disproportionately the preserve of those from privileged backgrounds for many reasons: among them, being exposed to broader vocabularies from an earlier age; the quality of housing; diet; the potential stresses of poverty, and so on. And to rebut the inevitable calls for the reintroduction of secondary moderns, the evidence shows worse outcomes for poorer children in areas that still select by supposed ability. Oxford and Cambridge go to great lengths to improve their access, but the truth is many bright working class students don’t apply because they feel the institutions are culturally alien. The Oxbridge colleges should surely enrol the brightest working class and state school students without interview if they aspire to a full representation of the brightest. Privileged people, who disproportionately attend Oxbridge, go on to dominate the professions for other reasons, such as unpaid internships being a gateway to, say, media, politics and law; or postgraduate qualifications that are affordable if you have parents with deep pockets.

In any case, succeeding at a university is no automatic guarantee of being an effective politician. What we need are politicians with an understanding of the problems confronted by millions of people, and a creative imagination that allows them to conjure up appropriate solutions. Winston Churchill was notoriously poor at school, though it seems his political career turned out OK in the end.

The postwar Labour government may have been led by the public school educated Clement Attlee, but look at his ministers. Nye Bevan was the son of a miner; after languishing near the bottom of the class, he began working down the pit almost as soon as he became a teenager. But the conditions he grew up in informed his politics, and he went on to found one of our greatest institutions, the National Health Service. Herbert Morrison was a linchpin of the government, born to a police constable at a time when they were paid derisory wages. Ernest Bevin was born to an impoverished family in Somerset, and went on to become foreign secretary.

I am no fan of John Major, but it is worth noting that under this non-graduate, the Tories chalked up 41.9% of the vote in 1992, trouncing the 36.9% won under the stewardship of Old Etonian David Cameron in May.

If academic success were a guide to political achievement then President George W Bush’s administration would have been a triumph. It was, after all, stuffed full of alumni of Princeton University, Yale University, Harvard Business School (like Bush himself), Harvard University and Notre Dame. Alas, his turned into the most disastrous presidency since the second world war, bequeathing us the calamity of the Iraq war and financial meltdown.

What we need is not politicians who flourish at university coursework and exams, but those who have powers of empathy and imagination. Hailing from a privileged background does not mean you are unable to understand the lives of those less advantaged than you. But when parliament is so white, so male, and where around two-thirds of MPs are from middle class professional backgrounds, inevitable questions have to be raised about our “representative” democracy. Having more female MPs means the issues affecting women are more likely to be addressed, and the same goes for, say, those trapped on social housing waiting lists, lacking secure work, or indeed those who are having their tax credits cut.

Education is so much more than what is learned in lecture rooms and libraries. Political disillusionment and cynicism are complex beasts and they have been stirred for many reasons, but one factor is surely that parliament does not much look like the country it exists to serve. “Oxbridgeocracy”, and those who agitate for it, are sources of sustenance for Ukip and other rightwing populist forces. Sure, there is a place for Oxbridge alumni, but we need far more balance – including from the redbrick universities that so scandalise Mount, and those who haven’t been to university in the first place. Oxbridge isn’t everything. Trust me – I know.

The lessons of history for Jeremy Corbyn

Martin Wright in The Telegraph


Conventional wisdom has it that Labour’s newly-elected leader will be taking the party back to the past. The most commonly imagined point of destination is the 1980s. Corbyn, we are told, is a latter day Michael Foot, whose tenure on Labour’s leadership will give us a Labour civil war and a decade or more of Tory dominance. A more positive historical allusion, has been offered by Melissa Benn, writing in the Guardian, who has argued that Corbyn is the direct heir of the Labour Party’s founding father, Keir Hardie. While both analogies are tenable, a more accurate parallel might be traced between Corbyn and a less well-known past Labour leader, George Lansbury.

Michael Foot and Tony Benn Photo: Getty Images


Lansbury took over the leadership of the Labour Party in 1932, in the wake of the disastrous economic crisis that had destroyed Ramsay MacDonald’s Labour government in 1931. MacDonald had nurtured the Labour Party into a position of power over the preceding two decades, but abandoned its rank and file in the moment of crisis to join a National Government with the Conservatives. The Labour establishment – seen by many in the movement as heroes only a few years previously – were, by 1932, seen by most socialists as traitors. The demoralised Labour Party was decimated in the 1931 General Election, and Lansbury was elected leader because he was viewed as the embodiment of honesty, purity and principle. Is this beginning to sound familiar?

Like Corbyn, Lansbury was a London politician who was located firmly on the left of the Labour Party – his first political home as a socialist was in the revolutionary Marxist Social Democratic Federation. Like Corbyn, he was a “veteran” MP who had taken part in the struggles of what seemed like a previous age; by the time he secured the leadership of his party he was already in his 70s.

Like Corbyn, Lansbury was a habitual rebel, and a thorn in the side of his party’s moderate leadership. As editor of the Daily Herald he supported just about every shade of Left-wing rebel tendency available. He campaigned for Communists to be allowed to join the Labour Party. In the period before the Great War he’d gone to prison for the incitement of militant unlawful protest on behalf of the suffragettes. He was imprisoned again in 1921, when serving on Poplar Council, for contempt of court, after refusing to implement what he considered to be an unfair rates system. Like Corbyn, Lansbury was a life-long pacifist. He was the main organiser of the mass anti-war demonstration in Trafalgar Square in August 1914. He was also prepared to meet – against his better judgement - some pretty questionable individuals in pursuit of peace, including, in 1937, Hitler and Mussolini. By comparison, maybe meeting Hamas isn’t so big a deal.

 The parallels between Corbyn and Lansbury are so close that one might think that Corbyn is the ghost of Lansbury stalking the Labour Party. But what might history tell us about the Party’s current predicament? Lansbury’s leadership has traditionally been seen as a period of crisis for Labour – a spell in the proverbial wilderness. Lansbury inherited a depleted and divided party, struggled to make an impact against the overwhelming tendencies of the time, and by 1935 was driven from its leadership by his more right wing colleagues. Corbyn will need to be an exceptionally resourceful and gifted leader, not to mention lucky, if history is not to repeat itself in this respect.

Even if this is the case, though, Corbyn’s period as Labour leader need not be without significance. Lansbury’s tenure on the leadership may have been short, but it was not devoid of success. Like Jeremy Corbyn, Lansbury was a magician of mass-mobilisation. He managed to inspire more respect and devotion among grass roots socialists and labour supporters than arguably any other Labour leader before or since. He connected with Labour’s core supporters and mobilised them in a way that meant the Labour Party survived when it may have perished. He reconnected a wounded, demoralised and betrayed party with its core values and beliefs. Crucially, he created a political space in which the socialists of the future – among them Aneurin Bevan and Clement Attlee – could develop and prosper. And we all know what they managed to achieve.

Perhaps the real lesson that a bit of historical perspective can teach us about Corbyn’s remarkable coup doesn’t concern his electability, or alleged lack of it. After all, those that warn that he is unelectable haven’t done too well at winning elections themselves in recent years. No, history tells us that the Labour Party is experiencing a period when it needs to be revitalised, democratised and brought back into contact with its all-too-forgotten core beliefs. Like Lansbury over 70 years before him, Corbyn might well be the man for the job. If so, the really interesting question becomes not whether Corbyn can win in 2020, but who, out of the new MPs who were prominent in nominating and supporting him, will be the Bevans and Attlees of the future?

Cricket: How to construct a one day chase

Michael Bevan in Cricinfo

All batsmen pursuing targets in ODIs are constructing a run chase but in different ways, while playing different roles.

My style was completely different to those of many other batsmen, particularly those higher up the order, but it suited my temperament, and I found a way to take the pressure off myself in highly charged situations. I believe there is no right or wrong way that batsmen need to adhere to to be consistently successful.

Playing to your strengths is of utmost importance in chasing and scoring runs in one-day cricket. There are many moments in a chase where a batsman feels compelled to try something different because of the pressure. Most batsmen prefer to try something different than to test their game and stay till the end. Committing to playing your way gives you two things: the best opportunity to score big runs and the opportunity to understand what you need to do to improve if it doesn't work out.

Taking the pressure off yourself is a paramount skill required by any batsman seriously considering being a successful run-chaser. You need to find ways to keep it simple and focus on achievable targets. Sometimes if you focus too much on the trouble you are in or look too far ahead, it can sap your confidence and make it tougher to help your team.

I found having small, achievable goals that I knew I could reach - such as a reasonable strike rate for the first 30 balls, or setting targets per over - helped. Rather than winning the match for my team, my ultimate goal was just to be there at the end, win, lose or draw. I never knew I could win the match but I knew I could be there at the end, and it's amazing how often you have an opportunity to win the match if you are there at the end.

Minimising risk by targeting the right bowlers, choosing the right delivery to hit and having a plan B helps batsmen score 50-plus, develop consistency, and ensure game plans work towards applying pressure on opposition attacks.

Andy Bichel liked to take charge of a chase © Getty Images

A key part of my game to keep things simple and reduce risk was to only have one boundary option for each bowler. This I would choose based on my strengths, pitch conditions, field placements and the match situation. If the ball didn't pitch in the right area I would remain patient and try to rotate strike until it came along. The downside to this approach is that sometimes you miss out on opportunities or a quicker scoring rate, and of course, once the rate gets above 7 or so, you need to make a move regardless.

Finally, my success as a No. 6 batsman was largely determined by the quality and batting abilities of the lower order. Without these guys, nothing is achievable. A clear focus for me in batting with the tail was to help them feel comfortable and clear about our approach to winning the match. Honest feedback as to how they were going also helped. Every tailender had a different approach and a different personality, so it was important for me to work at their speed and on their level. There was no point in me being very regimented and structured in a mid-pitch discussion with Brett Lee, who was a carefree guy who didn't like plans and preferred to stay in the moment. Andy Bichel, for instance, really liked to take charge, so I would give him the space and opportunity to do this and let him drive the partnership.

Chasing runs can be intimidating at times but understanding the fundamentals can help increase your chances of success.