Oxford and Cambridge are universities with an established reputation for educating innovators, pioneers and leaders in every field. We, and those at the Other Place, seek high-flying careers in positions of management and authority. Whether in politics, law, science or the arts, Oxbridge graduates are destined to reach the top of the pile.

What is so often hard to swallow, however, is the divide that exists between the world in which we learn and the one which we will go on to shape. For all its splendour, I question just how much the Oxbridge environment can teach us about life outside the bubble, and thus how suited we really are to determine the decisions which influence the lives of the many we know little of, but strive to represent.

I should clarify that I am not writing to attack Oxford and Cambridge outright. To revive the clichéd analogy, both institutions envelop their students in a Hogwarts charm, sustained by a preservation of eccentricities and tradition, and it would be insincere and unoriginal to disparage this or demand that it be scrapped. Instead, I want to question the wisdom of inward-looking parochialism and to encourage a heightened awareness of the exceptionality of the bubble we live in.

Leaving Cambridge (or Oxford) after three, four, or more years of intense immersion in an enclosed world of bedders, gowns and dreaming spires gives to the best of us a blinkered view of reality. The majority of the population live unlike anything we experience here, and it’s all too easy to forget that. Even the gap year, allegedly a chance to experience the real world, to break out of the formulaic monotony of an academic educational path and see the world, too often conforms to the mocking ‘Gap Yah’ model. These ‘spiritual, cultural, political exchange things’, typically undertaken with the aim of self-discovery, ‘finding oneself’ and personal enlightenment, are now as institutionalised as any other part of the privileged route to power.   

That Oxbridge has the monopoly on paving political career paths is perhaps the biggest irony, and the flaws of this system are continually made evident in today’s political environment. But the problem is not as simple as it is often presented. The established link between Oxbridge and political power is neither surprising nor inherently problematic. Both universities take able students highly capable of thriving in the political arena, and encourage and nurture their ambitions. Rather, at the root of the rot is the limited world view that Oxbridge insularity invites bright young people to adopt, and the negative (and frankly humiliating) implications this has for a society governed by such a segregated elite. Look no further than the PR embarrassment of the 2012 Pasty Tax palaver to gauge the woeful extent of the popular-political divide.

My personal experience has only reinforced negative popular perceptions. I came to Cambridge from a state school (though admittedly hardly an underprivileged one), feeling fairly world-wise and sceptical about aspects of the Oxbridge image. I would steer clear of being absorbed into the insularity, I thought, retaining the (marginally) broader perspective of the world I’d gained at school. Despite my efforts, however, the mist descended quickly, the bubble turned opaque and the lengthy trek across Trinity Great Court became the biggest cross to bear.

Genuine experience of the variegated picture that is modern society is a necessity for those who would lead and govern, but whatever background we come from, and whatever financial situation, I don’t know if any of us can hold on to it in Oxbridge. The universities’ access outreaches and diversity initiatives are commendable and get better at levelling the playing field for those on the outside year by year, increasingly granting privilege according to merit. The enduring culture of narrow-mindedness and exceptionality that pervades on the inside, however, is truly letting the side down. The demand has long been for equalising opportunities by demystifying the path to Oxbridge. This is where efforts and interests end, however, and a blind-spot exists everywhere past the point of admission.  

Oxbridge is great in many ways. ‘The bubble’ is, however, a more serious reality than is typically suggested. While topping the league tables academically, Oxford and Cambridge are perhaps the worst places to learn about the challenges, experiences and realities of life as most people live it, whose causes so many students supposedly understand and will be going on to lead or represent in one way or another. There’s a world out there, without gyp rooms, gowns and gargoyles, and the effort to bridge the gap between Oxbridge and reality is one that must be made by the institutions and their students alike.