The University is facing less exciting prospects in the race for a Chancellor, with former Conservative Party chairman Chris Patten and sleaze watchdog Lord Neill of Bladen emerging as the only new hopefuls. This line-up, considered mediocre by many, seems inevitable after Bill Clinton was reported to be reticent about the job and Shirley Williams retracted her interest in the appointment last week.
Some have suggested that the quality of contenders to plunged to new lows when renegade philosopher and long-time adversary of the University, Andrew Malcolm stated his intention to run in response to the "lacklustre candidates." Malcolm, ex-owner of the Akme Expression shop on Broad Street, is best known for suing the University when it refused to publish his book. Despite his tenuous claims to celebrity, Malcolm declares that his bid for the chancellorship is "not in a spirit of mischief or irony", but stems from a real conviction that he can "resolve some of the university's present grave problems" and adopt an executive rather than "purely ceremonial" status.
Chris Patten has also given a clear indication that he is seriously considering the role of Chancellor. Speaking exclusively to Cherwell, the Balliol graduate admitted this week that although he "enjoys very much" his commitment as Chancellor of Newcastle University, he would stand for the chancellorship if he "thought that there was a lot of general support" and that he "had a chance of winning."
The most recent name to have been mentioned in relation to the post is Lord Neill of Bladen QC. In his role as sleaze watchdog he once ordered the Labour Party to return a $1 million donation from Formula One boss Bernie Ecclestone and held the position of Vice-Chancellor of the University in the 1980s, having been warden of All Souls from 1977 to 1995. One college head remarked to the Telegraph this week that "many of us are hopeful he'll accept, as he has all the right qualities. As well as knowing the University inside out, he also knows public life like the back of his hand."
However, Patten is widely seen as the most credible contender for the post. In a recent Cherwell poll, Patten gained 11 per cent of undergraduates votes as the best candidate for the Chancellor. He followed Clinton with 48 per cent and Williams with 16 per cent, but was ahead of names such as Michael Heseltine and Boris Johnson. Lord Neill has been seen by some as the popular alternative to the usual political candidates, but could lack the high profile and fund-raising potential that names such as Clinton, Williams or Patten might bring to the post.
The contest for the next University Chancellor is becoming a joke. From the excitement at the start of term about the possibility of Bill Clinton clashing swords with Hezza and Maggie for the coveted gown, we face the grim prospect of two spineless Establishment nobodies going for the position. And now Andrew Malcolm's decision to campaign shows to what depth the race has sunk.
Why does this prestigious position seem to be so unattractive to so many potential candidates? Clinton, Williams, Heseltine and Thatcher are no longer interested, and Chris Patten speaking this week to Cherwell has been vague about his plans.
Being Chancellor of Oxford University simply does not seem as attractive as it did a month ago. Lord Jenkins' alma mater Balliol declared him a JCR Villain after his support for top-up fees. Any candidate that aligns himself with the student body, as Williams might well have, risks losing face with Convocation. And securely bedding down with the government, as Lords Bingham and Neil undoubtedly will, risks souring that already poor relationship between undergraduate and university authorities.
We face a disappointing election and a missed opportunity.
As with all public figures, Chris Patten is shorter than I imagined, and the years of chow mein and moules frites have clearly taken their toll. But it is in the mind of this CV-role-model behemoth that I am interested. I arrive in my best blue shirt to meet a red-tied Patten: perhaps this elder statesman wants to leave all that behind him. Now nearly sixty, he is not afraid to reach for his reading glasses when he needs them, instead of squinting as if he had the eyes of a much younger diplomat; he tenderly takes his wife's hand as we walk...
"In favour of the Euro..." He takes my arm as we cross the road... "Gardening, nothing political..." Without wanting to offend my interviewee... "If I had a chance of winning the chancellorship..." We remember his tears in Hong Kong... a sense of duty and purpose... well in his stride... more sunshine-style policies... vast store of witty anecdotes... caveat pre-emptor... wealth of experience... chatting jovially with students...
We arrive at Balliol where he is due to dine with various academics, and he grabs my hand enthusiastically. Like everyone else who resolves not to care about celebrities, I stand a while in awe and disbelief at having met a man whose name is already etched in history.
Becoming Chancellor of Oxford University is a process rather like getting a place to read an arts subject: plenty of speculation about how to get the job, but what on earth do they actually do once they're here? The Chancellor's job description has always been vague - Harold Macmillan, predecessor of the late Woy Jenkins, defended his position with the appeal that, "You have to have a chancellor because otherwise you could not have a vice-chancellor, and then where would you be?"
The recent withdrawal of Shirley Williams from the race does not bode well for the type of Chancellor we might face... opposition to top-up fees... campaign for easier access... friends in high places... Oxford establishment... Shirley's stepping-down a tragedy... she has a mind of her own... erosion of higher education...
The fact that an ideal candidate has stepped down on grounds of not feeling suitable says much about the type of Chancellor the University expects. It is very much the students'loss.