Preserved on the campus of University College London (UCL) are the remains of philosopher Jeremy Bentham. Regrettably, his classical liberal view of education has not also benefitted from conservation. By ostensibly promoting “disruptive thinking since 1826”, the university demonstrates Socrates’ observation that while many bear the emblems, few are the devotees. As a student there, I discovered that its philosophy was informed more by a political monoculture than by the pursuit of knowledge. After two years, I quit.
In a dual transfer of country and academic institution, I am now studying at the Sorbonne Université in Paris. Over the last year, I have seen how France has pursued a pragmatic education policy despite a similar “woke” zeitgeist. Having introduced legislation to restrict the use of “inclusive writing” (an approximate French equivalent of English inventions such as the non-binary title Mx) in universities, it has separated academic discipline and political ideology at a fundamental level. The mental resilience and intellectual rigour it demands ensures that its programmes prepare students to maturely confront challenges. Such pragmatism is taboo to a permissive university culture in Britain which appears to operate under its own sort of Aristotelian wisdom on education: “Give me the man when he is 18 and I will show you the child”.
This infantilising approach is evident in declining academic standards. According to UCL departmental pages, an average of just ten contact hours are expected each week for the university’s programmes in the Liberal Arts. The attendance at these lectures and seminars is — in my experience — optional. Those who fail to meet the minimum of 50 per cent are sanctioned by way of an email reminder of the university’s regulations.
Students often take assessments online and are permitted to utilise generative AI to plan essays and correct writing. They are allowed three DAPs (self-certified Delayed Assessment Permits authorising extensions for graded work or deferrals for exams) each year. Homework for classes is optional, as modules are predominantly assessed by way of summer finals. These offer candidates a selection of questions to evaluate them on only a fraction of the syllabus. In addition to an undemanding pass mark of 40/100, the poorest 2 per cent of results are automatically excluded from the final grade over the first two years. It is a system designed not to fail students. This has precipitated flagging intellectual independence and growing hostility to academic challenge.
Last year, Associate Professor Michelle Shipworth was removed from a module in which she mentioned modern slavery in China. The university authorities had apparently determined that this was “provocative” following a complaint from a Chinese student. Professor Nigel Biggar was similarly removed from an event which I had planned for the History Society because of his balanced view of the British Empire. My colleagues on the committee had determined that this too was “provocative”. I was eventually able to organise for Professor Biggar to speak at a Conservative Society event instead; it was apparently so provocative that it was later reported in The Times.
The Sorbonne is a distinct contrast both academically and attitudinally. Its programme for a Classics degree demands over twenty contact hours each week. This includes several three-hour seminars from which three unjustified absences result in an automatic fail in the module. Medical justifications require a doctor’s note, with spurious excuses such as stress not accepted.
Remote studying is not a recognised concept. Classes are not by default recorded and lesson material distributed in class is often not available online. Students are examined on the totality of the curriculum by way of regular handwritten assessments as well as finals. Candidates must achieve a minimum average mark of 10/20 across all modules in order to pass into the following year.
All students are expected to be proficient in written French and are penalised for errors in spelling and syntax. Those studying the Liberal Arts are obliged to take modules in both French literature and linguistics. The literature modules are not moderated to censor what British universities term “uncomfortable” texts.
The two university learning cultures differ fundamentally in their attitude to students’ maturity
In one of my own classes, the Latin lecturer presented for translation Quintus Curtius’ narration of Alexander the Great’s marriage to Roxana. This story causes much handwringing in the Anglosphere because of its depiction of paedophilia. As a humorous aside regarding its acceptability, the lecturer joked that “this was not the USA”. She advised that we should not seek to censor unsavoury aspects of history, because if we do not study past mistakes, we are bound to repeat them. There was no disagreement from my classmates.
It appears to me that the two university learning cultures differ fundamentally in their attitude to students’ maturity. Whereas British universities seem to want to protect students from the real world, those in France require them to engage with it. It is perhaps elucidating to consider in parallel that student mental health is seen as a more significant issue in the UK than in France.
At UCL, all students are provided with a personal tutor with whom meetings each trimester are obligatory. There is a 24/7 student support phone line and a provision of six free counselling sessions each year. Among the students eligible for these are those who suffer from “homesickness”. They are also protected by online safeguards such as “Trigger Warnings”, which are published in relation to content which contains “disturbing” material. Included in this list has been UCL Drama Society’s own production of A Monster Calls for its “references to mental health”.
In contrast, the Sorbonne prefers pastoral minimalism, not considering its responsibilities to extend further than simply teaching the curriculum. It does not foster a significant university society culture — nor does it typically organise large student events. Its equivalent of Freshers’ Week is the period of revision sessions scheduled before the start of term. Even basic administrative operations such as the creation of class timetables is considered outside of its remit.
Mental health problems can be serious and students’ wellbeing must be considered. However, British university policy on supporting its students has been affected with a self-defeating political deformation which makes them the victims of the issues they are supposed to be confronting. While the institutional separation of politics and education has preserved the challenge of learning in France, the conjunction of the two in the UK has steered British university culture away from the engagement with difficult questions to the acquisition of easy diplomas.
The infantilism encouraged by British universities compared to their French counterparts has also undermined belief in British cultural values and the determination to fight for them. According to the YouGov survey reported in The Times in April 2025, 11 per cent of those aged 18-30 would be willing to fight in a war. 41 per cent would not be. Yet a study carried out by L’Institut de Recherche Stratégique de l’École Militaire last year found that the corresponding figures were 22 per cent and 18 per cent respectively among French youths.
As the old adage runs, soft lands make soft men. British universities are creating a leisure class of graduates who are ill-equipped to cope with conflict. Rather than oppose the real threats which exist, they remain in the campus mentality of giving passive cafeteria Marxist homilies on how everything is Britain’s fault instead.
This is exacerbated by the fact that much of the backlash against this educational culture treats it as an issue of race and national identity rather than of personal integrity. “Wokeism” in schools must be reclaimed from the lexicon of the alt-right and brought back into a mainstream discussion about protecting the basis of the next generations’ education: common-sense curricula and open learning cultures which challenge and edify students, no matter who they are. It is to the nation’s detriment that British universities believe that this Benthamite philosophy is a vestige of the former dominance in academia of the “old white man”, rather than a cornerstone policy of any society which wishes to stay ahead of its rivals.
Perhaps Bentham’s remains will be moved to the Sorbonne next.
