Warwick Uni: in search of oomph

‘Oomph’. That’s what Warwick needs, a bit of ‘oomph’. For a university which derives its name from a hodgepodge between Coventry and Warwickshire – not exactly the most obvious compromise, it is not surprising that there is an embedded cynicism and sense of world weariness around campus. It’s not that the students aren’t diligent or engaging, it’s the fact that we are consistently dispassionate. Whilst we are successful in fulfilling our destinies as micro-managers, which we manifest in endless commitments to execs, or whatever ‘week’ it happens to be, we lack a certain spark.

That doesn’t imply that Warwick has ever been a honey pot of vivacity. I can’t stand people endlessly wittering on about some sort of revival of ‘Red Warwick’ whenever students are momentarily and collectively opinionated about some obscure issue. It is rather bizarre that people will get fired up about a sit-in which has already finished, but then in the case of dreary Students’ Union AGMs, 0.195% of potential students bother turning up.

You do have to wonder when even some of the Sabbatical Officers decide not to grace such thrilling meetings with their presence (at least last year that was the case). The problem is that people are endlessly drinking, working, or organising some event. There is never any time to enjoy events organised by other people. With so much competition between forums, fundraisers and socials, you end up the being exhausted by the prospect of choice. Rather than going along to events which you would normally go to, you end up attending a talk because some friend begged you make up the numbers.

Anyway, back to the point. Warwick needs to generate some culture that will encourage ‘oomph’. Vice Chancellor Nigel Thrift argues that the great thing about our University’s tradition is that it has no tradition; it does mean that we are always trying to create an identity. Our mate Nige is right that because of the relative youth of the institution, there is no ubiquitous reputation that we know we have to uphold.

However, even though it is true that it gives us greater freedom without the shackles of a heritage, we are left with a relentless fatigue from a constant need to change. Any ‘belonging’ that anyone has is constantly challenged. Frankly, when your University ‘outlets’ (you’ve got to love nauseating consultant speak) are utterly uninspiring named the “Airport lounge” (aka Rootes Reception) or “Cafe Library”, it’s not surprising that students feel empty – bereft of some healthy mystique.

Does it not say something when the University believes that students would prefer to socialise in a replicated waiting room for international travel? No doubt, in the fullness of time we’ll be cordially invited to grab a coffee in the ‘Public Toilet’ or the ‘Bus Shelter Restaurant’. But, on the other hand, I’m a third year. I’ve been dragged down by copious amounts of journeys commuting from Royal Leamington Spa (for it is regal), wearied by being on execs, and tired from too much drinking.

It would be great to return to the energetic year of being a fresher. Those were the days! Few commitments, little or no work and never ending pizza offers at Costcutters. Blissful simplicity in the architectural jewel of Rootes.

Even so, old age doesn’t suffice as a good reason. Let’s create some worthwhile traditions. In the same way that societies defiantly use the University crest on their hoodies, despite the fact that the Warwick has long since dropped it for the reduced corporate version, we could create Mason-like handshakes; the Warwick walk perhaps. Rather than being driven by our future roles as consultants or civil servants, we could worship the Arts Centre’s seemingly redundant rotating cone.

Ritualistic pilgrimages could occur every year, where we would venture to our namesake’s Castle (that’s Warwick), chanting the names of stock market indices. We need to abandon the consensus of scepticism; advocate strange arguments and embrace implausible theories.

They are my suggestions. Well, I have written enough now, for my C.V. anyway. When I get home, I will be able to describe myself as a “regular contributor to the comment section at the Warwick Boar”. Maybe you can have the true identity of a Warwick student after all (Please excuse the sickliness of this last sentence).