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Showing posts with label oxford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oxford. Show all posts

Monday 1 December 2014

Private schools know how to game elite universities – state-educated kids don’t have this privilege


The system fails bright pupils from ordinary backgrounds. And here’s how we all lose ...
Eton schoolboys
'There is, in short, massive asymmetry of information in the post-16 education system and the critical determinant is class.' Photograph: Alamy

Let’s call him Matt. Aged 16, he is tall, taciturn and highly talented. He goes to a state school and is about to choose his A-levels. For all kinds of reasons, he believes he should progress, via Oxbridge or the Ivy League, to become an aerospace engineer.
So should he do further maths? If maths is the new rock’n’roll in education, then further maths is a VIP enclosure that fewer than 15,000 young people a year get into.
Last week, I had the chance to put this question to the deputy head of a top private school. “By all means do further maths, but only if you are guaranteed to get an A,” came the answer, as if it were a no-brainer. It was advice born out of years of practical knowledge.
Other opinions are available of course – and that’s the problem. This year, a quarter of a million 16-year-olds will make their A-level choices relying on hearsay, myth and information that is outdated or uncheckable. Those choices will shape their options when it comes to university – and the courses they apply for will then shape their chances of getting in.
There is, in short, massive asymmetry of information in the post-16 education system and the critical determinant is class. Kids at private school can rely on schools that have continual informal contact with elite universities. The result is that – for all the hard work being done by outreach teams in Russell Group universities, and by access teams in state schools – there’s an inbuilt advantage among those going to private schools based on informal knowledge.
Last year’s results for further maths demonstrate the problem. In English state schools, further education and sixth-form colleges, about 11,100 young people sat the exam; in the private sector, which accounts for just 7% of the school population, 3,600 sat it. And private school results were better, with 69% getting A or A* versus 54% in state schools.
Government tables show that this achievement gap is even more pronounced for ordinary maths and the three main science subjects. There are numerous private websites that offer A-level advice, and anecdotally social media are abuzz with the wisdom of teenage crowds over course and subject choices.
But why isn’t there a central repository of information that would turn all this folkore into a level playing field of checkable knowledge? Why isn’t there a single, open-source database that models all specific pathways into higher education? Without it, state school students will always find it hard to win the inside-knowledge game.
At my old university, Sheffield, they told me that you need maths and physics as part of three A grades to study aerospace engineering. That’s in line with the Russell Group’s guide, which also tells you to add design/technology, computer science or further maths.
The admissions tutor of an Oxbridge college, however, tells me: “I think here they’d be worried about no further maths, especially if it was offered at school but they didn’t take it, though I do worry that we send out mixed messages about this.”
The knowledge asymmetries deepen once you realise that elite universities require additional, bespoke tests. Cambridge University’s website reveals that if you want to do engineering at Christ’s, Peterhouse or St John’s you might need to take an extra exam called Step.
In a cantankerous, unsigned diatribe, the Step chief examiner for 2014 complains that only 3.8% of applicants scored top marks. The majority were not prepared for the kind of thinking they had to do. “Curve-sketching skills were weak,” the examiner noted, together with “an unwillingness to be imaginative and creative, allied with a lack of thoroughness and attention to detail”.
I will wager that the people who scored top marks knew that their curves had to look like Leonardo da Vinci’s and that they had to demonstrate imagination and creativity – because their teachers had long experience of this exam, and the others had not. One Oxbridge admissions tutor admitted to me that such testing may add a further barrier to people from state schools.
Suppose Matt wants to go to Oxbridge more than he wants to be an aerospace engineer? Here the advice is – for those in the know – really clear. Don’t apply for the most popular courses, where there can be 12 people for every place. Work out the college and subject combinations that reduce the odds to just three or four to one.
Oxford’s website shows the success ratio for getting on to its popular engineering and economic management course is just 10%, while the success rate of applications for materials science is 42%. A senior administrator at Oxford told me that they suspected few state school teachers really understand this game of playing the ratios. State-school students and people from ethnic minorities crowd each other out by going for the same, obvious, high-ratio and vocational courses.
Why should this matter to the majority of young people, who do not aspire to go to an elite university? And to the rest of society? First, because it is creating needless inequality of opportunity and is just the most obvious example of how poor access to informal knowledge penalises state school kids. Second, because in an economy set to be dominated by information and technology, those 15,000 people who can attempt further maths each year are the equivalent of Aztec gold for the conquistadores. Their intelligence will be the raw material of the third industrial revolution.
There is no reason – other than maintaining privilege – to avoid presenting subject and course choices clearly, logically and transparently. When the system fails bright kids from non-privileged backgrounds, we all lose.

Thursday 16 October 2014

Oxford University tutors finally open up about admissions interviews

Oxford marks undergraduate application deadline by publishing selection of interview questions including ‘How much of the past can you count?’

Peckwater Quadrangle, Christ Church, Oxford University, Oxford, Oxfordshire, England, UK
The questions published by Oxford confirm the stereotype of the contrary and offbeat, satirised by The History Boys. Photograph: Robert Harding World Imagery/Alamy

The mysteries of the Oxford admissions interview have been laid bare by the university, in an effort to explain the questions at the core of the fraught 20 minutes in an office that can change the course of a life.
To mark the deadline for 2015 undergraduate admissions, the university asked admissions tutors to open up about the interviews that all UK undergraduate applicants are subjected to – and what the admissions officers are looking for.
But rather than shine a spotlight on a process criticised for admitting a disproportionate number from independent schools, the questions published by Oxford instead confirm the stereotype of the contrary and offbeat, satirised by the Oxbridge applicants of Alan Bennett’s play The History Boys.
A question from Nick Yeung, an admissions tutor for psychology at University College, asks: Why are Welsh speakers worse at remembering phone numbers than English speakers?
“This question is meant to be deliberately provocative, in that I hope that it engages candidates’ intuitions that Welsh people aren’t simply less clever than English people,” Yeung said.
“The key point is that numbers are spelled differently and are longer in Welsh than in English, and it turns out that memory and arithmetic depend on how easily pronounced the words are. I would hope the student would pick out this connection between memory and how easy to spell or pronounce a word is.”
Other questions published by Oxford included: How much of the past can you count? “In this case, the question gets at all sorts of issues relating to historical evidence,” said Stephen Tuck, a fellow at Pembroke College.
“Of course, much of the interview would be taken up with discussing in depth the history courses the students have studied – the interview is not all about unusual questions.”
Samina Khan, Oxford’s acting director of undergraduate admissions, said for many students the interview is the most daunting part.
“We know there are still lots of myths about the Oxford interview, so we put as much information as possible out there to allow students to see behind the hype to the reality of the process,” Khan said.
But a former admissions tutor at a Russell Group university said that while the questions were reasonable, Oxford’s over-reliance on interviews to select undergraduates was part of its problem.
“It seems to me though that by revealing the mysteries of the interview, Oxford is continuing the fetishisation. It is Oxford, not interviews, that is weird,” he said.
The university interviews more than 10,000 applicants over two weeks in December, for around 3,200 undergraduate places.
Applicants to read biology might be asked ‘Why do some habitats support higher biodiversity than others?’ while prospective art history students are shown a painting and asked if they recognise it. “It is the only question for which there is a single, correct answer, which is ‘no’,” said Geraldine Johnson of Christ Church, explaining that she wants applicants to discuss works they haven’t seen before.

Tuesday 15 October 2013

The man who was concrete


Jon Hotten in Cricinfo


Tavaré uncharacteristically animated for Kent against Middlesex in 1988  © Getty Images
Enlarge
There are some names that, as a young cricketer, you do not want, because they come loaded with a heavy freight. They are almost always familial. Imagine the task of clambering clear of the moniker of Botham or Richards as Liam and Mali once had to do. The Don's son briefly changed his, so distorting was its effect on his life. They are names that do not stand simply for cricketers of note, but for something bigger: a way of playing the game itself.
Imagine then, that you are William Tavaré, who has signed a contract to play professional cricket for Gloucestershire. Because as surely as Botham, Richards or Bradman are names that come laden with meaning, then so is Tavaré. William is the nephew of perhaps the most extraordinary batsman to appear for England in the last 30 years, the motionless phenomenon that was CJ Tavaré. 
No one who saw Chris Tavaré bat will forget it in a hurry, even if the detail is blurred by its endless repetition. If David Steele was the bank clerk who went to war, Tavaré was the conscientious objector who took arms. Tall, angular and splayfooted, a thin moustache sketched on his top lip, he would walk to the crease like a stork approaching a watering hole full of crocs.
Once there, he began not to bat but to set, concrete drying under the sun. His principal movement was between the stumps and square leg, to where he would walk, gingerly, after every ball. If John Le Mesurier had played Test cricket, he would have played it like Chris Tavaré. His innings spread themselves across games, eroding the will of the opposition and the spectator alike, smoothing off the edges as if they were pebbles in a stream.
The portents came early. In his third Test innings, against West Indies at Lord's in 1980, he fussed for more than four hours over 42. In his next game, his 69 and 78 combined to occupy just under 12 hours of playing time.
Then came the innings that cemented (almost literally) his legend. His four-hour-plus fifty against Pakistan in 1982 was the second-slowest half-century in the history of the game, and yet even that paled in comparison to the five-and-a-half hour 35 against India in Madras, a knock that assumed the dimensions of a siege for all involved.
In a team that contained Botham, Gatting, Lamb and Gower, Tavaré truly stood out. The mighty ballast that he provided against the Australians in '81 (179 runs at 44.75) played a part in that famous win, albeit one that never quite makes the highlights reels.
His only Ashes tour in 1982-83 left its scars on the local psyche, too. As Matthew Engel slyly noted, "he was the antithesis of the Australians' idea of a cricketer". In Perth, he treated them to an eight-hour 89, 60 minutes of which were entirely scoreless. Gideon Haigh fell into a trance-like state while watching it on television, and later discovered that Tavaré (a uxorious gent, of course) had been troubled all tour by his wife's fear of flying, a mental trauma that nailed him ever more firmly to the crease.
Like a lot of slow players, stories abounded that he was a wolf in sheep's clothing, capable of pillaging county attacks on quiet Canterbury afternoons. If it happened, no one remembers it now. Instead, his high point as a man of action must remain the classic fourth Test, in Melbourne, that began, on Boxing Day of 1982, with Tav making 89 in just 247 minutes at a strike rate north of three an over, an innings that contained 15 boundaries in an era when the distant reaches of the MCG were marked only by the pickets. It was his anomalous masterpiece, and England won by three runs.
Rather marvellously, Chris Tavaré is now a biology teacher, and his pupils are surely rigorously but gently schooled. Into a cricketing world that he would not recognise steps William, whose first-class record to date is respectable (nine innings at 32.75, with a best of 61), but even if he turns out to be the next Chris Gayle, the Tavaré name will plod after him - slowly and from a distance of course. Good luck, my friend.

Thursday 26 September 2013

Is PPE a passport to power – or the ultimate blagger's degree?


Ed Miliband, Ed Balls and David Cameron all studied philosophy, politics and economics at Oxford. What does the degree really teach you and why is it the perfect springboard to a career in Westminster and the media?
Ed Miliband and Ed Balls.
Ed Miliband and Ed Balls. Photograph: Stephen Simpson/Rex Features
On their own, they aren't particularly remarkable. Taken together at York or Warwick, they still aren't anything very remarkable. But study philosophypolitics and economics(PPE) at Oxford University and you get power and influence thrown in with your degree certificate on graduation day.
At least that's the way it looks. Of the current cabinet, David Cameron, William Hague, Jeremy Hunt and Philip Hammond all read PPE: as did Ed Miliband, Ed Balls and Danny Alexander along with about another 30 MPs. Among many others at the BBC, Nick Robinson, Stephanie Flanders, Evan Davis and Newsnight editor Ian Katz read PPE. At least eight journalists at the Guardian read PPE, with similar numbers at the other broadsheets. And tabloids, for that matter. Toby Young read PPE. Even Chris Huhne read PPE.
Some might take one look at both politics and journalism and conclude that the one thing they have in common is a talent for having a firm opinion about absolutely everything regardless and that PPE is a life lesson lesson in winging it. Others who went to Oxford certainly think that. When asked by Jeremy Paxman on Newsnight if it rankled that Cameron had got a first when he had only got a 2:1, Boris Johnson, whose degree was in classics, said: "It would if it wasn't that his first was in PPE." His message was clear: PPE was an inferior degree. Though one might also wonder at the cheek of Boris Johnson for calling Cameron out as a slacker.
Slack is certainly not the word Oxford University chooses to describe PPE; only 15% of those who apply are admitted. Rather it prefers to market the course as "Modern Greats" that "brings together some of the most important approaches to understanding the social and human world around us, developing skills useful for a whole range of future careers and activities". In the first year, students study all three subjects equally, after which they can choose to drop one.
So what sort of student chooses PPE? For some it's a chance to try something new. "I had taken science A-levels but didn't want to continue any of those subjects at university," says one graduate. "PPE seemed like a safe transition. The three branches covered a lot of ground and if I found one boring or wasn't up to it, then I could drop it." Not knowing exactly what they wanted to study was also key for many other students but there are a significant number for whom the course's reputation was critical.
"There were those who had chosen PPE precisely because it was a springboard to a career in the politics or the media," says a former student. "They had their whole lives mapped out from the moment they arrived at Oxford. They knew they were going to edit the student newspaper, be president of the union and what job they were going to end up in. They probably even knew whom they were going to marry. They seemed to have got just about everything else right."
David Cameron David Cameron. Photograph: Rex
"It's definitely something that is commented on and joked about," says a graduate from Wadham. "There's a moment in The West Wing, a flashback I think, when one character is handed a napkin with 'Bartlett for President' written on as they plan to make him run for office. Well, I'd be lying if I said there weren't more than a few drunken nights that ended with someone being handed a napkin with 'X for Prime Minister' written on. People are fully aware, and much of the student union is made up of PPE students. That creates a pressure in its own way too – I certainly still think about it. I think most people who did it are interested in politics, and so it's natural to wonder if you could do it better – especially as you see more and more of your peers getting heavily involved."
PPE's reputation for being a bit of a doss compared with other courses stems not so much from the amount of work that is required – most students remember feeling they could never hope to cover all the reading they were given – but from the freedom they have to do it. While science students usually had to be in the lab every day from 9am till 5pm, PPE students could spend the entire morning in bed. Lectures are not compulsory: one of the graduates who spoke to me said he never went to a single one during his entire three years – "There was no real point so long as you did the reading" – and the three or four tutorials a week are usually arranged at a mutually convenient civilised hour later in the day. So, as one graduate put it: "If you wanted to lie in during the mornings and plan your conquest of Oxford in the afternoons, you could. As long as you got your essays done on time – you could write them at night, if necessary – there was nothing stopping you."
Most graduates say there were many more men in their year than women, but no one found it particularly macho. "Yes, it was competitive and students were ambitious," says a female graduate. "But you'd expect that at Oxford; the university is full of alpha types who are used to succeeding. About a third of the students may have made a point of wanting to show how clever they were by not dropping a subject, even though it gave them a great deal more work and didn't get them any extra benefit, but the bragging rights weren't worth a great deal as most students didn't know each other. There were so many different options and tutorial groups were so small, you could go through your entire Oxford career never talking to some people on the course."
Oxford's sales pitch for PPE describes the course as "a multidisciplinary degree designed for those who like to draw connections among political, economic and social phenomena". This is slightly misleading, as it implies that the course tutors go out of their way to help students make these connections and that the three disciplines have been tailored to complement one another. "Nothing could be further from the truth," says one graduate. "Each subject exists entirely in its own bubble and it's almost as if a don would rather die than talk to someone teaching one of the other subjects. Every don is convinced that theirs is the only subject worth doing and that the others are a bit of a waste of time. So you're left to make your own connections between the subjects."
Sometimes this works better than others. One graduate regrets having given up economics at the end of the first year. "It was taught in such a dull, theoretical way that I just couldn't see the point of it," she says. "It just didn't seem to relate to anything in real life. Only since I've left Oxford have I come to understand how central it is to understanding how the world operates."
But mostly it works like this. Students make the political, philosophical and economic connections they were always going to make. Those on the right have their rightwing views reinforced; those on the left have their leftwing views reinforced. All that's happened in the three years in between is that everyone has become a bit better informed and a lot more confident that they are right. And maybe it's just as much the social connections that are made that turn so many PPE graduates into masters of the universe: after all, many continue to orbit one another throughout their careers. "The thing is this," one graduate laughs, "PPE is such a big subject that no one can ever know everything, so we all have to bullshit like mad at times to cover up our ignorance. And we by and large get away with it. So we carry on bullshitting once we leave Oxford and most of us are still getting away with it."

The syllabus

Year 1
All courses studied equally.
Philosophy – general philosophy, moral philosophy and elementary logic.
Politics – theorising the democratic state and analysis of democratic institutions in the US, UK, France and Germany.
Economics – microeconomics, macroeconomics and mathematical techniques.
Years 2 and 3
Only two branches must be taken.
Philosophy – ethics and either early modern philosophy; or knowledge and reality; or Plato's Republic; or Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics.
Politics – any two of: comparative government; British politics and government since 1900; theory of politics; international politics; political sociology.
Economics – microeconomics, macroeconomics and quantitative economics
In addition to these compulsory courses, second- and third-year students may take optional papers from a choice of more than 50 courses. Compulsory courses can also be taken as options.

Wednesday 15 May 2013

Oxford University won't take funding from tobacco companies. But Shell's OK


If scholars don't take an ethical stance against corporate money, where's the moral check on power?
Daniel Pudles 14052013
Those in the strongest position to challenge climate change are instead lending it their ‘moral prestige'. Illustration by Daniel Pudles
In 1927 the French philosopher Julien Benda published a piercing attack on the intellectuals of his day. They should, he argued in La Trahison des Clercs (the treason of the scholars), act as a check on popular passions. Civilisation, he claimed, is possible only if intellectuals stand in opposition to the demands of political "realism" by upholding universal principles. "Thanks to the scholars," he said, "humanity did evil for two thousand years, but honoured good." Europe might have been lying in the gutter, but it was looking at the stars.
But those ideals, Benda argued, had been lost. Europe was now lying in the gutter, looking into the gutter. The "immense majority" of intellectuals, artists and clergy had joined "the chorus of hatreds": nationalism, racism, the worship of power and war. In doing so, they justified and magnified political passions. Across Europe, scholars on both the left and the right had become "ready to support in their own countries the most flagrant injustices", to abandon universal principles in favour of national exceptionalism and to proclaim "the supreme morality of violence". He quoted the French anarcho-syndicalist Georges Sorel, who eulogised "the superb blond beast wandering in search of prey and carnage".
The result of this intellectual support for domination, Benda argued, was that there was now no moral check on the pursuit of self-interest. Rather than forming a bulwark against popular delusions, Europe's thinkers turned them into doctrines. With remarkable foresight, Benda predicted that this would lead inexorably to "the greatest and most perfect war ever seen in the world". This war would be genocidal in intent, and would not be stopped by any treaties or institutions. In 1927, these were bold claims.
I'm not suggesting an equivalence between those times and these. I'm summarising Benda to highlight a general principle: the need for a disinterested class of intellectuals which acts as a counterweight to prevailing mores. Racism, nationalism and war are only three of the many hazards to which society is exposed if that challenge should fail: if, that is, most scholars side with the soldiers or the sellers.
Today the dominant forces have changed. Now the weak state, not the strong state, is fetishised by those in power, who insist that its functions be devolved to "the market", meaning corporations and the very rich. Economic growth and the forces that drive it, whether they enhance or harm people's lives, are venerated. And too many scholars seem prepared to support the new dispensation.
Two weeks ago I castigated the new chief scientist, Sir Mark Walport, for misinforming the public about risk, making unscientific and emotionally manipulative claims and indulging in scaremongering and wild exaggeration in defence of the government's position. Since then I have seen his first speech in his new role and realised that the problem runs deeper than I thought.
Speaking at the Centre for Science and Policy at Cambridge University, Walport maintained that scientific advisers had five main functions, and the first of these was "ensuring that scientific knowledge translates to economic growth". No statement could more clearly reveal what Benda called the "assimilation" of the intellectual. As if to drive the point home, the press release summarising his speech revealed that the centre is sponsored, among others, by BAE Systems, BP and Lloyd's.
Last week, two days before CO2 concentrations in the atmosphere reached 400 parts per million, Oxford University opened a new geoscience laboratory named after its sponsor, Shell. Among its roles is helping to find and develop new sources of fossil fuel.
This is one of many such collaborations. Last year, for instance, BP announced that it will spend £60m on research at Manchester University partly to help it drill deeper for oil. In the United States and Canada, universities go further: David Lynch, dean of engineering at the University of Alberta, appears in advertisements by the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers, whose purpose is to justify and normalise tar sands extraction.
As the campaign group People and Planet points out, universities help provide fossil fuel corporations not only with expertise but also with a "social licence to operate". Climate change is one of the great moral issues of our age, but the scholars in the strongest position to challenge the industry responsible are, instead, lending it what Benda calls their "moral prestige". Neoliberal economists, imperialist historians, war-mongering philosophers, pliable chief scientists, compromised energy researchers: all are propelling us into the arms of power.
In 1998, the vice-chancellors of the UK's universities decided that they would no longer take money for cancer research from tobacco firms. Over the past few days I have asked the Shell professor of earth sciences at Oxford, the university itself and the umbrella bodyUniversities UK to explain the ethical difference between taking tobacco money for cancer research and taking fossil fuel money for energy research. None of these great heads, despite my repeated attempts to engage them, were prepared even to attempt an answer.
So perhaps this is where hope lies: unlike Benda's scholars, these people have not yet developed a justifying ideology which permits them to excuse or glorify the compromises they have made with power. Perhaps we have not yet abandoned the redeeming hypocrisy of what Benda called "honouring good".

Wednesday 13 March 2013

Cambridge University medicine admissions show race gap



Applicants with three A*s at A-level are 20% more likely to get offer if they are white than if they are from ethnic minority
Cambridge University
Cambridge University released the detailed admissions data, covering 2010 to 2012, for medicine only in response to a freedom of information request. Photograph: Brian Harris/Alamy
People applying to study medicine at Cambridge University with three A*s at A-level are more than 20% more likely to be given an offer if they are white than if they are from an ethnic minority, according to new data released by the institution.
Cambridge University released the detailed admissions data, covering 2010 to 2012, for medicine only in response to a freedom of information request. The university refused a similar request a few weeks before, which covered more subject areas, on the grounds of cost.
The data, which covers applications from within the UK by people who declare their ethnicity, shows that 329 out of 586 white applicants for medicine who went on to achieve three A*s were given an offer of a place, versus 190 of 412 applicants from ethnic minorities – representing success rates of 56% and 46% respectively. The difference between the two groups is statistically significant.
Both Oxford and Cambridge have been challenged by MPs and campaigners to do more to get students from ethnic minorities into their institutions, particularly as the headline admissions figures for the two institutions show a substantial gap in success rates between students of different ethnicities.
The universities have said this gap is explained in large part by students from ethnic minorities disproportionately applying for the most competitive subjects, such as medicine – but these new figures show that even within the competitive subjects, white students are more likely to receive offers.
Cambridge's race gap for medical applicants is substantially smaller than that of its rival, Oxford University. Figures released to the Guardian under the Freedom of Information Act, published last month, show white students applying for medicine who went on to achieve three A*s were 94% more likely to be offered a place than those from ethnic minorities.
A-levels are only one of several factors taken into account by admissions tutors for medicine at both universities. Applicants are also required to take a specific entrance exam, the bioMedical admissions test, while work experience and performance at interview are also factored in to whether to make an offer. Those handling applications may also be unaware of the ethnicity of prospective applicants rejected prior to interview.
A spokeswoman for Cambridge University said analysis of applications based on A-level grades "ignores a significant number of relevant variables" and is therefore "superficial".
"Admissions decisions are based on students' ability, commitment and their potential to achieve," she said. "Our commitment to improving access to the university is longstanding and unwavering … [and] we aim to ensure that anyone with the ability, passion and commitment to apply to Cambridge receives all the support necessary for them to best demonstrate their potential."
She added that Cambridge had run initiatives to encourage gifted students from minority backgrounds to apply to Cambridge since 1989.
Oxford University declined to comment on the difference in size of the medical race gap of applicants between itself and Cambridge University, but said in an earlier statement it constantly reviewed the race gap of its applicants.
"Oxford University is committed to selecting the very best students, regardless of race, ethnicity, or any other factor," a spokeswoman said.
"This is not only the right thing to do but it is in our own interests. Differences in success rates between ethnic groups are therefore something we are continuing to examine carefully for possible explanations."
The Oxford spokeswoman also noted Cambridge made more use of students' grades at AS-level than does Oxford, and said ethnic minorities were well represented at the university, making up 22% of all students and 13% of UK undergraduates.

Saturday 8 November 2008

Oxbridge interview: top twenty tips for surviving - by graduates and tutors

 

 

Oxbridge interviews are shrouded in mystery and dogged by myth so let us guide you through the process with the help of people who've been on both sides of the interview


Before the interview
1. Don't forget an alarm clock
It sounds mundane but could be make or break if you have an early interview and stay over in college the night before. Pack an alarm clock or a mobile phone that is charged so that you don't have a restless night's sleep worrying whether you'll miss it.
2. Brush up on your personal statement
Make sure you've done everything you put down in your personal statement. If you have time, quickly skim-read some of the texts you've mentioned so that you'll be able to quote in your interview or at least know what they're talking about. "I hadn't read one of the books on my personal statement so I got my dad to give me a quick summary before the interview. I got in there and they asked me about one of the characters and I had no idea who it was. It was so embarrassing," says one graduate who read French and Spanish at Oxford.
3. Know what your interviewer has written
Rosemary Bennett, who read Politics, Philosophy and Economics says doing your homework on the subject tutors at the college will make you stand out. "Be really prepared and read what they have written recently. It's so easy to find out what they have done – not so that you can suck up to them - but so you know their areas of interest. If you know their take on a situation you won't go in with half baked opinions to the expert."
4. Make an effort with your appearance
"Wear something bright to make yourself more memorable. Try to look smart but not too try-hard," says one Cambridge Theology graduate.
Murad Ahmed, who studied Law at Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge advises, "You just have to look like you've made an effort and take the interview seriously. That might mean a suit and tie, or just dressing smartly. The guy after me came dressed in a Gap hoody, and I never saw him again."
5. Keep an eye on the notice board
Your interview time will be posted on the college notice board in the college entrance and in the Junior Common Room. The times of these can change at the last minute and if you are required for another interview the only way of finding out is to check the board. Some colleges will take your mobile number and ring you to let you know of any changes - but it's best to check it every couple of hours just in case.
6. Don't be put off by other candidates
"Don't be too intimidated by everyone else and what they know – it is your interview and you will be the only one in the room – not them – so be confident in your own abilities," says Laura O'Connor who got into Jesus College Oxford to study Geography.
In the interview
7. Choose where to sit with care
The interviews are usually held in the tutor's office and you will often have a choice of seats ranging from a plastic chair to a college heirloom which had seen better days when Henry VIII made a visit.
Kate Rushworth, who read English and German at Oxford says "I remember sitting on the sofa as instructed and it being so old and flat that I ended up practically sitting on the floor with my knees around my ears."
Your choice of seat isn't a test but it's better not to be distracted by it. So pick a seat that looks half stable and try not to sit in such a way that your leg goes to sleep and you have to limp out of the room when you leave.
8. Make eye-contact
Murad Ahmed, now a journalist says: "It's a confidence thing. If you've got an interview, you've got the grades to be there." He says tutors he's spoken to are looking for something more than grades. "I took that to mean, that somehow we could 'add' to the institution. I think quiet confidence is what you want to try to evoke, and making eye contact is key."
9. Don't be intimidated by the tutors
"But be aware that they know everything you know - and a hell of a lot more," says Rhiannon Evans, who studied Politics Philosophy and Economics at Oxford and is now studying for a PhD. "They are trying to explore your thought processes. Therefore make it obvious. Don't just jump it with your final answer as this suggests a lack of reflexivity. You're not on Family Fortunes. Fully articulate your evaluation and argument."
10. Don't speak too soon
Being enigmatic and thoughtful can count in your favour, says Nico Hines who studied history at Cambridge. "When they ask you a question, even if you can think of a decent response straight away - just keep your mouth shut for a few seconds and then answer, it makes you appear more contemplative and considered."
11. But do say something memorable
Rosemary Bennett says: "Get something in that is memorable because they see so many people. Say something that's going to stick in their mind. The most wacky thing you have done, they are looking for rounded people, not just people who are studying relentlessly for A-Levels. Have something to say that isn't studying – something not to do with school work because they are looking for someone with wider interest. Something that shows you're not a cookie cutter exam person."
12. Answer the question but ask if you don't understand it
Dr Rhodri Lewis an English tutor at Oxford University says: "Do answer the questions you're asked directly and with any pertinent examples you have to hand; stick rigorously to the point. Don't bluster and attempt to download pre-fabricated answers onto questions that don't warrant them. Do ask if you don't understand the question rather than attempt to answer questions that you don't understand."
13. Show off your broader knowledge
Dr Lewis advises: "Do show evidence of having read and thought broadly around your subject, moving well beyond the A-level syllabus. Do show an interest and awareness in the Oxbridge course you're proposing to read.
Don't, if asked about the fifth act of Othello, say that you haven't got round to that part of the play in class yet. Don't make it look like you're desperate to get into Oxbridge come what may, and that you've no great interest in your proposed subject of study.
14. But don't show off
Dr Lewis warns: "Don't try to be wisecracking smart-Alec; You may well be as clever as you think you are, but your interviewers are often pretty intelligent too, and become rapidly bored with this sort of showboating."
15. Don't panic
"Keep thinking, even when you find yourself in the stickiest of corners; interviewers want to find out how your mind works, not to trick, humiliate or otherwise expose you," says Dr Lewis.
16. Be prepared to change your mind
The way you think and whether you can think on your feet is much more important than coming up with the definitive answer – which in most cases doesn't exist.
"I was asked to review a passage from Othello, and went straight in, guns blazing, about the clever punctuation and the impressive effect it had only to be told that it wasn't actually Shakespeare's original punctuation. 'Aha! Look - here is a copy of the original Folio and the punctuation is different you see! What else did you think?' I was deflated and terrified having never even heard of the 'folio'", says one student – who did get a place.
After the interview
17. Don't worry about what other people say
Try to avoid conversations with other candidates about what happened in their interview. No two experiences will be the same and you'll just end up worrying that they did or didn't ask you something.
18. Be prepared for more
The Oxbridge entrance system means that you could be called for an interview at another college. This is nothing to worry about and isn't necessarily a sign you haven't got in to your college of choice.
The tutor may want a second opinion or think you are a bright candidate but just doesn't have space for you. Likewise if you don't get another interview it doesn't necessarily mean you have fallen at the last hurdle – they may have just decided you are strong enough to get straight in.
Laura O'Connor says: "Don't worry if they keep you on for an extra day – I sat nervously as they dismissed people at the end of the Tuesday, stayed overnight and huddled into the Geography faculty on the Wednesday to sit on a sofa by a fire all day, and in the end I wasn't called for any extra interviews," but she did get a place.
19. Congratulate yourself on having got through it
Getting through an Oxbridge interview with all your faculties still in tact is a reason to be proud. So don't berate yourself by replaying what you said or didn't say, just enjoy the fact that it's over.
20. Don't set all your hopes on getting in
Finally, don't get too worked up about it and don't place all your hopes for future happiness on a place at Oxbridge.
Wherever you go to university you will have three unique years in a place you are likely to count among the best in the world.




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Wednesday 24 September 2008

Cambridge Admissions - read the letters from readers also.

 


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