Disappointed, but never surprised. I knew that someone at Cambridge was somehow going to be linked to the paedophile financier Jeffrey Epstein. I mean, what did Epstein and his associates all love? Money, power, and access to the elite — three things Cambridge offers in spades. Of course David Stern was going to jump at the opportunity to be on the Judge Business School’s advisory board: another accolade for my macho mantelpiece please! Let everyone see how much status, sex, and street-cred I have!

Now, I’m not attacking the University for appointing Stern to the board; it is unclear whether there was any knowledge of his ties to Epstein before his resignation, and I have enough faith that his greasy hands wouldn’t have been near it if anyone knew. It’s just another depressing reminder of how deeply entrenched that seedy, boys’ club type is within our institutions. Oh, it’s never shown in public – woe betide you damage that polished, charming reputation you’ve cultivated for yourself before you land the Deutsche Bank job that was definitely not arranged for you – it’s just hidden, be that in emails or in the comfy corners of your secret society’s headquarters.

It’s the pull of power, of being included with the excluders. It’s not difficult to imagine someone like Stern leaping at the chance to have been a member of the Bullingdon or Pitt Club had he been an Oxbridge undergraduate. He wants to brush shoulders with the elite to accumulate as many connections as possible to secure his success and self-image. That’s business! Wonder if he gave that advice to the Judge Business School.

“Another depressing reminder of how deeply entrenched that seedy, boys’ club type is in our institutions”

In no way am I linking all of Oxbridge’s privileged men to the perversities of Epstein and co. It’s not about the people, it’s about the system. And you can’t evade the truth that there has been a historic culture in these elite circles of letting abhorrent behaviour slide. It begs belief that Stern and his associates had no idea what Epstein was doing.

There’s no strong image though for a man who resigns and runs away instead of taking accountability. It’s all about optics: David Cameron, George Osborne, and Boris Johnson were only embarrassed at the leak of the Bullingdon Club photo because they were caught. They were worried about the potential reputational damage, not ashamed to have been members. But misogynistic songs, smashing up furniture, burning money in front of homeless people was all fine in the end: you can still (allegedly) do all that and be prime minister! Or chancellor, bad luck George.

And, honestly, it’s not just amoral. It’s embarrassing. Stern pitching those business deals to Epstein, sending him sexts, having this weird “general”/“soldier” dynamic going on, reeks of desperation. Stop courting a convicted paedophile and have some self-respect: he literally turned down being godfather to your child, that’s how little he cares about you. There is nothing more pathetic than trying to cosy up to the devil just to cling to the illusion of influence.

That’s what’s key to these powerful social networks. It doesn’t matter what someone does if they can give you connections and a good time. Here we have a global elite who play by different rules and don’t care about the rest of us. Especially women. We’re all just disposable, there to have champagne poured over us and used as birthday banter.

When you’re happily consorting with a sex criminal, all you’re doing is creating a vicious circle of enablement. And you feel protected – safely wrapped up in the tentacles of Epstein’s ring, these men feel untouchable. Scandal is always survivable. That’s why Stern’s resignation and the Andrew formerly known as Prince’s arrest felt more like a birthday gift to me than anything. Sure, Stern is safely tucked away in the United Arab Emirates (of all places, you have to laugh) and no longer being on an advisory board of a University department is nowhere near the worst of punishments, but it’s a chink at the armour. Resigning before being forced out to save a modicum of face, it signals that these men aren’t quite as untouchable as they like to think.

We’re still so far from justice – we need only look to the inertia of the US to see that. Until only recently, Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor was a Prince, and Stern was sat next to the Queen. But their disgrace, their weakness, gives me hope that things can change. And that starts from change within these kinds of circles.

“Creating a vicious circle of enablement”

Oxbridge has historically been perceived as a part of this ring: it was unattainable, unknowable, only for people (or, really, men) from the most privileged of backgrounds. A place where they could get their contempt for normal people out before they ruled the country, the banks and the courts. But over time that has begun to change. While work is far from over (*cough* Trinity Hall), Cambridge has started to feel more accessible. That only happened because change came from within.

Now do I think the members of this particular cohort will listen to me? Probably not. Indeed, they might point to their efforts of widening the participation pool: women, BAME students, people from non-elite boarding schools are admitted into these secret socs now. We should thank them. But just because the people in the room might look a little different doesn’t mean that the behaviour is. We’re all just expected to take part in it, complicitly clapping as they carry on.

Oxbridge doesn’t have anything quite as extreme as an Epstein class (thank god), but after university these circles don’t just disappear. They get older and closer to power. If we want a fundamental shift, a world where behaviour like Epstein’s, Andrew’s, and Stern’s doesn’t slip through the cracks, then change has to happen from within. It’s time to hang up your blazers and think about whether this hierarchy is what you want. We can all say how terrible its consequences are, but the only way to stop enabling it from happening is for the people born, or invited into, these worlds to call it out. It might sound dramatic, but this culture starts and is nurtured somewhere and somehow. I hope our generation is progressive and moral enough to say ‘no more’.