Today William Hague became Oxford Chancellor. He needs to urgently shake up student safeguarding

Telegraph

19-02-2025

In June 2001 William Hague led the Conservative Party to failure in a general election performance that had only been eclipsed by John Major's in 1997, which saw New Labour catapulted into power under Tony Blair and Hague become Leader of the Opposition. After hubris, nemesis; after nemesis, apotheosis. Today the Lord Hague of Richmond, as he now is, took his place as the 160th Chancellor of the University of Oxford.
Amid much bowing and scraping, standing up and sitting down, and sundry incantations in Latin, Lord Hague emerged from the Sheldonian Theatre as the University's titular head. In a different world others might have made more impressive candidates, but of those on the ballot papers he was the front runner from the start – at least with the present electorate. I know my duty; from below the salt I doff my battered mortarboard in his direction.
A Magdalen man – there will surely be Founder's Port after dinner at one of Oxford's richest foundations this evening – the new Chancellor will find the University much changed from his own student days. The principles of equality, diversity, and inclusion remain front and centre, and all are welcome – or so we are told. The colleges are not necessarily kinder places than they were, however, as recent history has demonstrated.
Just over a year ago, Alexander Rogers, 20, left his rooms at Corpus Christi College, walked towards the river, and threw himself off Donnington Bridge. The subsequent inquest, which rose in November, heard that Mr Rogers had been the victim of a culture of vigilantism and mob justice which had been allowed to flourish unchecked among students at the college.
A number of undergraduates had been allowed to believe that they were responsible for policing their own community; some breached several official policies in the days leading up to Mr Rogers's death. They will bear a heavy burden for the rest of their lives – but at least they will have them. Whether they have faced any disciplinary consequences is unclear.
It is also unclear what Corpus intends to do to effect any kind of change. A correspondent wrote to me to say that he had contacted the President, Professor Helen Moore, with a number of concerns. Without addressing any of his points, Prof Moore replied to say that 'I hope you wrote as an expression of sympathy and concern for a bereaved community.'
She also referred to the widespread press coverage of the inquest – the reporting of legally established facts – as 'media speculation', calling it 'not helpful'. Not helpful for whom, exactly? For Corpus to try and present itself as the injured party in this sorry tale suggests both galloping arrogance and a hefty dose of sociopathy. Welcome to academia, folks.
In any normal institution, urgent action would have been taken to quell the kind of bullying that surrounded the circumstances of Mr Rogers's death. But unless the new Chancellor is bold enough to break with time-hallowed custom, the University's hands are tied.
The colleges function as little city-states, fiercely proud – perhaps sometimes too proud – of their independence. As it stands all the Vice-Chancellor, Professor Irene Tracey, can do is appeal to their better nature. That said, should either Lord Hague or Prof Tracey be looking for some ideas for reform, I humbly present a few of my own.
First, college welfare roles should be filled by skillset, rather than just by turn. These days no one would consider making a mathematician bursar just because he was used to numbers, but at least he might be closer to the necessary qualities than some (though not all) of the fellows who have become deans of colleges in recent years. In the absence of a suitable internal candidate, an external one should be sought.
Secondly, junior welfare officers should be abolished. Let the students have properly-trained 'peer supporters', or friendly faces with some other nomenclature, but take away the power of teenagers to order the lives of their friends – and their self-perceived enemies. No doctor would dream of allowing a medical student to operate unsupervised, or indeed untrained, on a patient; why should mental health be any different?
Thirdly, the colleges need to come to a common mind on best welfare practice, based on the professional models available. Promises of confidentiality (as opposed to discretion and responsible referral) fly in the face of every safeguarding principle imaginable – a point made repeatedly by any kind of training one might undertake.
It is perilous for colleges to empower chosen students to feel that they have no obligation to pass on serious welfare concerns to those better placed to address them. Corpus has demonstrated that sometimes it is lethal, too – and yet at the time of writing one of its junior welfare officers still proclaims on the website that 'we act with full confidentiality'.
Lastly, college officers need to understand that observation of their policies and procedures, which they are obliged by law to have in place for the proper running of their institutions, is compulsory and not optional – what is the point of them, otherwise? Those who breach them should face commensurate sanctions, including dismissal, and institutions that protect wrongdoers should expect to be sued by those whom they have abused.
No doubt there will be some who think that Prof Moore needs to consider her own position; that will be a matter for her conscience and her colleagues. Her final comment to my correspondent was to say that 'we are not making any further statements.' That deafening silence is a squandered opportunity for Corpus to demonstrate that anything has changed.
Leadership is urgently needed – not only from the new Chancellor at Oxford, but across the whole university sector – if the kind of behaviour that preceded Mr Rogers's death is to be eradicated. Meanwhile, Corpus still has time to take its place in the vanguard, and to set an example for others to follow by dismantling its dangerous, toxic culture once and for all – assuming, of course, that it wishes to.