How depressing, though, that it was money, rather than principle, that made the college retain the statue. Right from the outset, the Oriel governing body has behaved in a depressingly weak way, terrified of offending a tiny group of student protesters.
The Master of University College, Sir Ivor Crewe, was wonderfully tough on the protesters who wanted to change the name of the college's Rhodes Computer Room, saying, "Governing Body... alone will decide what, if anything, to do. I shall urge a swift resolution. I am confident that Governing Body will not contemplate dishonouring the generosity of its former Rhodes Scholars."
At last, some backbone! Oriel's dithering is symptomatic of a catastrophic shift in the teacher-student power dynamic throughout the British education system. Teachers are there to tell students what to do; not vice versa. Given the steep tuition fees, students do have the right to be properly taught. They don't have the right to tear apart the fabric of a 1,000-year-old university.
Over-indulged children have become over-demanding teenagers, who expect their demands to be constantly satisfied. Don't like the politics of a visiting speaker? Well, then, just no-platform them. Worried about rude passages in a classic novel? Demand trigger warnings that certain scenes may cause offence.
What a hypersensitive, unsophisticated, uneducated attitude to the world. One of the crucial lessons of life is to deal calmly with things you disagree with. Who knows? You might even change your mind. Or, even if you don't, you might at least accept the other person in the argument has a valid view, too.
It's one thing for students at one of the country's best universities to behave like spoilt babies. It's quite another for senior academics to indulge them.
Source: http://telegraph.feedsportal.com/c/32726/f/579309/s/4d37f65f/sc/13/l/0L0Stelegraph0O0Ceducation0Cuniversityeducation0C121292610CFinally0EOriel0ECollege0Eshould0Ehave0Estood0Eup0Eto0ERhodes0EMust0EFall0Elong0Eago0Bhtml/story01.htm