I will admit that I used to relish telling people that I go to the University of Oxford, and to some extent I still do. However, now when I sheepishly tell another conference attendee this, it is met with sympathetic tuts and murmurs of “That must be tough”. They don’t mean the workload. They mean the abysmal culture of intolerance towards freedom of speech that has somehow manifested here.

And they’re right. I’m careful who I tell about my dissertation on the topic of gender. My heart races when a new person asks what I’m doing, and I have to make a snap decision if it’s safe to tell them, and if it’s worth it. Peers have asked “Why are you going to Kathleen Stock’s event?” with narrowed eyes and suspicious tones. I spend so much time biting my tongue in conversation. Even basic truths can be completely unsayable in the wrong circles. But I’m getting braver.

Surprisingly, those who are truly against free speech are fairly rare. These people are led by a very aggressive minority, often oppressors dressed as victims. Behind them are another small group of self-hating ideologues, and other confused but well-meaning supporters. However, the majority of students, I have found, are actually quite sensible. Yet at first glance, it is almost impossible to tell these groups apart.

[What a lovely bunch of soulless coconuts these universities are belching out. The next generation of leaders should do their countries’ proud as they are concerned with only themselves. ~ Beege]