Student Life - William Windsor's presence at St Andrews University has had a grim effect on undergraduate culture, argues ex-student John Jelley
People used to be attracted to the University of St Andrews in Fife for its remoteness, its bracing air and its idiosyncratic traditions, such as the Sunday walk in billowing red gowns to the end of the harbour pier. Today, most students have ditched their gowns and the pier stroll, opting instead for pashminas and black tie at a student fashion show. They are there for the same reason the paparazzi are: in the hope of seeing Prince William and his entourage.
Since the heir to the throne arrived at Scotland's first university three years ago, there has been a rise in applications, and a resultant hike in academic standards. But socially conscious students, who have William, not a First Class degree, in their sights when applying, have endowed St Andrews with an air that a pre-William alumnus would scarcely recognise. First, there is the unnerving presence of the prince himself. His group has a permanent social cachet, which on one level is easily accessible (go to the West Port Bar on Friday night), but also offers an exciting challenge, namely overcoming the barriers put up by the prince and his friends against those who might sell out to the tabloids.
So far, so predictable. What is more surprising is the wider effect of the prince. William's circle is now a standard by which success in creative activity is measured.
This phenomenon is clearest in student theatre, where the focus has suddenly shifted from staging difficult works to putting on guaranteed hits that will create the correct social status of an audience. It now takes all year to plan the shows and they have reduced drastically in number. Two years ago, there were 40 productions across the year. This year, there were 15.
Former productions, such as the Catalan play Caresses, about disturbing sexual relationships, or adaptations of works by Aldous Huxley and Margaret Atwood, have been replaced largely by Shakespeare, comedies or musicals such as City of Angels. Forget the experimental black box; the mindset now emphasises the non-dramatic; university quads or castle grounds are the preferred venues, glossy publicity and pre- and post-show parties prime requisites.
This blurring of High Society with high society probably began with a production of Hamlet in 2002 when the presence of one of Prince William's flatmates as the Ghost, and the prince himself in the auditorium, was used as the selling point. The subtext now is that the only plays that are worth putting on are those which might attract the prince and his crowd. The casualty is originality: in the past three years, there has been only one new student play. Directors want to give themselves the best shot at getting the courtly crowd, even bullying first-year students to ensure that plays do not clash with each other on the drama timetable.
The ultimate goal is to achieve the popularity now enjoyed by the two annual St Andrews fashion shows, one of which was once famously attended by William at the students' union. Since then, fashion shows have become the sine qua non of artistic expression, and have burgeoned from events attended by a couple of hundred to become vast productions selling close to 1,000 tickets. No one wants to be outside the court circle, no matter how undemanding the event might actually be. As Eileen de Graaf, who organised one of the fashion shows this year, points out: "It is an almost mindless form of entertainment."
This new attitude is also driven by the realisation that a play, with a large audience, local sponsorship and a specially produced T-shirt, can make money. Productions are now openly compared according to how much money they are making, and have become a handy new way of paying off student loans.
The University of St Andrews, famed for its sense of community and low drop-out rate, is becoming increasingly polarised. On the one hand, there are students who are hell-bent on getting close to Prince William and his extended court. On the other, there are those who still depend on the conventional social orbit around halls of residence, societies and sports. Publicans may be incorrect in thinking that the students are posher - state-school access to St Andrews is improving - but the perception is understandable, when crowds throng bars favoured by William and his court. Entrepreneurs have begun to circle. The Charity May Ball offered a separate, guarded dance floor, heavily used by the prince, for those who paid more than £95.
People now know that St Andrews is more than the home of golf. But as long as Prince William is an undergraduate, the attraction of being on the edge of Britain will be relegated to second place by the glamour of snuggling up to royalty.
John Jelley graduated from St Andrews this summer
Post this article to
We want to encourage people to comment on our content and to exchange views with other readers and hope this will be done on a courteous basis. However, if you encounter posts which are offensive please let us know by emailing comments@newstatesman.co.uk and we will take swift action where necessary.
