For a university full of the world’s brightest minds, we’re all pretty useless. We don’t cook. We barely clean. Mention Henry Hoover and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s first thought is “Oh, isn’t he a Blue for ruggers?” rather than the annoyingly useless vacuum. Seriously, is that thing ever not broken?

Cambridge has a culture of over-reliance. We outsource everything that isn’t studying (let’s gloss over AI for now…) to someone else: our food, the state of our facilities, our laundry. Looking at you, Emma. This, in many ways, is an immeasurable help – we save so much time not having to do these mundane household tasks that we can crack on with our studies. Because, yes, we are all going to start a new school of thought if we don’t put the bins out ourselves.

Jokes aside, I do not disregard the value of being provided for by college. Cooking takes forever: you prep for a good half hour (or more), scran it in two minutes (or less), and then are faced with a never-ending pile of washing up. Why do that when you can go to hall, be served a lovely hot meal and then leave your plate to be cleaned? Not a finger lifted but to grab the tongs to fill your plate. Within the hour you can be back in the library finishing that supo essay in far less of a rush than if we had to do it all ourselves. Convenience is key, right?

“Yes, we might be a very clever bunch and, yes, what we study is important, but this shouldn’t result in the sacrifice of learning how to do simple household tasks”

Wrong. The key thing I have taken away from all this is that some Cambridge students are painfully lazy. And painfully unprepared for the real world. When you land that JP Morgan grad offer, or get scouted by HSBC, or conveniently get hired by your dad, you will actually have to leave Cambridge. You will have to live by yourself. You will have to (shock horror) wipe down a surface. No, there will not be a magical fairy who comes into your flat and does a lovely spring clean while you’re out. No, your clothes will not magically wash, dry and fold themselves. Tragically, all of this will be your job.

There’s no harm in the help from college, I understand that. But university is the perfect time to learn the skills required to be a functioning adult, not just an intellectual. This is why I’m such an advocate for living off-site for at least one year of your degree. Living in college means you’re unlikely to have the facilities needed to cook properly beyond a sad pesto pasta, but living off-site gives you a slither of reality: this is a space that you are entirely responsible for. You are fully equipped to cook for yourself, you have to keep this communal space tidy and you have to separate your own rubbish from the recycling, general waste and food bin AND empty it yourself (and, dear God, please do those things can get grim).

I know that many of you reading this will be competent, clean, considerate adults. You don’t need a lecture about putting your dirty dishes away or a step by step guide on how to mop. But when I met the bedder of my staircase (the loveliest man ever) this year and was met with what can only be described as an introductory talk into what he will and will not do it was safe to say alarm bells started ringing. What has this man seen? What has he been subjected to? When lines start being drawn before you’ve even put your glasses in the cupboard, you know a less-than-courteous culture has established itself.

Not only does this over-reliance lead to disgustingly bad manners (the amount of people who don’t know their bedder’s name or even offer them a greeting in the morning is genuinely appalling), it also means that many students leave Cambridge with a first-class degree and an immunity to Cillit Bang. Now I understand that the privileged will always remain privileged. Posh perpetrators will not heed my warning; if you have 7 maids and a cinema in your house now, it’s unlikely that in two years time you’ll be worrying about washing up the chilli con carne you made at 9pm last night after a gruelling shift. But even if your life between home and Cambridge doesn’t change all that much, be a decent person and clean your hair out of the sink. There’s no class in carelessness.

“Some Cambridge students are painfully lazy. And painfully unprepared for the real world”

Cambridge teaches us so many valuable skills. How to produce high quality content in a crazily short period of time. How to solve insanely complicated problems. Hell, it even sets us up with the tools to maybe go about fixing this doomed world. But this seems to be operating on a give and take basis. Yes, we might be a very clever bunch and, yes, what we study is important, but this shouldn’t result in the sacrifice of learning how to do simple household tasks. Cooking is a skill. Cleaning is a skill. Getting your fitted sheet to actually stay over your mattress is a skill.

When you enter the big, scary real world where formal hall means nothing and ‘Crushbridge’ is met with concerned raised brows and questions about infrastructure planning, this convenient household hand-holding you’re used to will become a hindrance. If you leave your residual rubbish all around the communal kitchen in your workplace, no one will selflessly be there to tidy it all away for you. That behaviour is the furthest thing away from professionalism, but it’s so normalised here that I worry some people won’t grasp it until they’re office enemy number one.

I think a little bit more of personal responsibility would do us all some good. I’m not calling for the end of college catering or getting rid of bedders: these are people’s jobs and they’re important to them as well as us. But, I think if we all just did a bit more, relied more on ourselves rather than just thoughtlessly offloading it onto others, it would improve our own competency. I don’t want to see another person put raw mince meat in the microwave again. Hoovering our own rooms and replacing our own toilet rolls are simple things, but they are a start to show us how the world outside of Cambridge really works.