How did they do it?

I have a work colleague who believes in “karma”: beyond the quite simplistic concept of fate booting the evil & cruel up the arse at a later date, he maintains, “karma” represents the continuous striving of the universe for order & balance.

It reminds me of a truly fascinating footnote which I once read in a textbook at Ruskin. I wish that I could remember the name of the book or who wrote it; all I can say is that it was an economics book.

Anyway, it went along these lines: the ratio of female to male births in the UK was / is always pretty much 50 / 50. Maybe 49 / 51 one year, and 51 / 49 the next, but you get the idea. OK. Along comes the criminal horror of World War One. Slaughter, on an unprecedented scale, of the young men of Europe. What happens next is nothing short of bloody amazing. In an earlier post, Ian referred to Roy Moore’s ability to “engineer structure from wreckage”. What a brilliant phrase. This, then, is what nature did in the couple of decades following the war. The birth rates became completely skewed towards turning out a preponderance of male births. 1919 / 20 yielded something like 70 / 30 male-female. I can’t quote precise figures, but for anyone who wants to check it out, it’s all there. This male-weighting tapers off year by year so that, by the late 30’s it’s back to 50 / 50, the imbalance having been made up. Unfortunately, this was just in time for the outbreak of World War Two.

It was as if something had said “Bloody humans. They’ve fecked up again. Suppose I’ll have to repair the damage. A tweak here, a re-adjustment there – just so. Phew! Job done. Now don’t lose it again, you lot. Hey – what are those bastards in brown shirts & shiny boots doing over there? Oh no, here we go again”.

The author of the text book said that s/he was an economist & couldn’t address why this had happened, but felt that someone from another discipline should lead research into the question. I agree. Maybe someone has, by now.

This brings us back to the first paragraph: the idea of an invisible, all-seeing system making order from chaos: an ineffable force which knows us better than we know ourselves & acts, omnipotently, to govern our lives. Comrades, this force was in operation at Ruskin.

Notice, as evidence, the accommodation block to which you were assigned on your arrival at Headington. Think about who was in the block with you, and who was in other blocks & who they shared with. It was all based on personality & lifestyle characteristics. Bowen, for example, was populated exclusively with serious drinkers, many with a liking for herbal products, but who generally bedded down, comfortably drunk, at a reasonable time & without too much noise. I don’t know if anyone remembers the TV series “Red Dwarf”, and Craig Charles’ character Dave Lister, but if he’d gone to Ruskin, he would have been pure Bowen material.

Now I don’t know, Dear Reader, how well you remember your Ruskin application form, but I don’t recall any question to which I gave the answer “I love drinking industrial quantities of beer, filling myself with curry, belching & relaxing in smokily aromatic surroundings. I do, generally though, get my work done eventually & I like an environment where I can get a quiet night’s sleep to set me up for more drinking the next day”. It didn’t come up at interview, either.

But “They” knew. And into Bowen I went.

I’m sure Helen McGregor didn’t tell the interview panel that she was a serious party animal who liked staying up all night boogying and didn’t really notice it if she went without sleep for up to a week. Nevertheless, unerringly, she was placed in the Rookery, where the all-night merriment & noise was never a problem for the occupants, because they were all at the party themselves.

And so on it went: enjoy staying up most of the night pissed, but talking, not partying? Telling jokes, occasionally even discussing some essay topics or comparing experiences of activism with a South African comrade? Not really into herbal ciggies? Welcome to Webb; tipsy debating centre of Ruskin; the traditional pub “lock-in” to The Rookery’s night-club.

Teetotal, quiet, innocuous & highly studious? Able to just fade into the background? “Little” Biko for you. There were only three or four bedrooms in that block, but how many Ruskin students per intake fit this particular character description? Three or four maximum. “They” even knew what they were doing when they built the place!

Given that "They" didn't know us from Adam when they allocated the room, how did "They" do it?

“Big” Biko was a bit of an enigma, being home to people who, on the surface, were leagues apart. The evangelistically-fixated Colombus on one hand, and Ian the secular frequenter of fleshpots on the other. Potato-head the classic, loud Essex Boy and the rather refined Deo from Sri Lanka. There must have been something they had in common; “They” just didn’t get it wrong. Anybody got any idea what the common denominator was?

I’m trying to remember what block Denis was in. As a serious drinker, he qualified for Bowen. On the other hand, as the Prince of Pissheads, perhaps he was over-qualified. His studiousness would have fitted him for little Biko, had it not been for the alcohol issue. Also, in no way could Denis be described as “innocuous”. Did he actually live in a room, or was it a cardboard box in a bush behind Webb? Hang on; he did have a room. I saw it. I just can’t remember where it was.

So now the college is to have a “Callaghan” block, eh? Obviously, the profile of the student body has changed and the colleges’ accommodation provision must reflect this. I wonder what sort of newly-emergent character-type Callaghan is designed for? Vegan New-age moon-worshippers? Grek? Are you out there? You can come back now!

A final little reminiscence: there was a sort of cupboard under the stairs at Bowen. It was where they stored Peter Donaldson outside of tutorial & lecture hours. I would often pass the locked door late in the evening, imagining the dry & leathery tenant slumped over a whisky bottle within and awaiting the dawn, when he would creak into motion, brush off the dust and emerge from the fastness of his sanctum, going forth to battle ignorance of economic theory.

Avanti!