Cathy Ashton comes to Cambridge

On Monday, Baroness Ashton - High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy of the EU, First-Vice-President of the European Commission, and British Labour politician - came to Harvard to give the 19th Annual Paul-Henri Spaak Lecture. Interested both to hear what she had to say about 'The EU Facing Global Challenges', and even more so to see what Americans thought of the EU, I went along. And this is what I can report...

First of all, Cathy Ashton is a very good speaker - lets face it, she wouldn't be where she is now if she wasn't. But still, after a rather stumbled and embarrassing introduction from Beth Simmons (Director of the Weatherhead Centre for International Affairs here and my lecturer for International Law), it was particularly nice to see someone stand up without notes and really engage with the audience. But as I said, its in her job description(s), isn't it.

The second thing that struck me was one of her opening statements: "I think the European Union was more an American dream than it was a European dream." The validity of this statement is not what concerns me, rather I wondered to myself why she felt she had to include the point at all. Indeed, she never really built on it - she just sort of threw it in there. But I suppose in that one sentence, she gave away (if ever there was really any doubt) the purpose of her standing in front of us - first, to remind Americans that the EU exists, and second, to convince them of its importance. How better to do this, after all, than come right out and say 'this is why you should care: you helped make it'. With that simple enough statement, it was active partnership - not rivalry or passive ambivalence - that she stressed. And in essence, that's really what the talk was all about: emphasising the need for global ties in order to find the solutions necessary to global problems.

Since reading a report compiled last year by Chatham House entitled 'Ready to Lead? Rethinking America's Role in a Changed World', my interest in the way the US views Europe has really grown. The central premise of this article - written by director of Chatham House, Robin Niblett - is that in 2009 the Obama administration found itself facing a changed world, one that prompted a rethinking of American ideas and practices of 'global leadership'. To condense a 49-page report into one sentence: Niblett suggests that under these circumstances, America needs to lead 'more by example and less by intervention', while also echoing Ashton's claim that current global challenges 'require cooperative international solutions' - in other words, the US also needs to turn increasingly to partnership. 

Now of course this line is to be expected from a British organisation, but there is nonetheless a great deal of truth in the case advanced. Indeed, we all know that over the last few years (I keep that ambiguous...), the American image and its capacity to lead responsibly and effectively has taken quite a battering - especially during the Bush years (a little reminder for you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KogebxJkHig). In 2009, then, Barak Obama was faced with one (almost impossibly) huge task: to revive the world's view of America. How? Well, perhaps just as Niblett says - not by trying to polish up the same old faded image, but by replacing it altogether with a new one, one that stresses leading with others and by example. It is, after all, what the times demand.

So how does all this link in with Cathy Ashton's visit to Harvard? Well, the most striking thing for me about Monday's talk was the audience. During the hour of questions and answers in which about thirty people asked questions, I can remember only two Americans taking the mic. There's no way of being sure, but it certainly seemed to me that - on top of the numerous empty seats and woeful absence of  undergraduates - the composition of the audience was overwhelmingly European. The logical conclusion, I suppose, is that - rather depressingly - American students at Harvard don't seem to care all that much about the EU. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people in Europe who don't care about the EU but it really is depressing that not even Harvard can cobble together much interest in one of the future's most important economic and political unions. 

So what's my point? Well, at a talk all about highlighting the need for global partnership in a changed world, America seemed conspicuously absent... 

Weekend update

At the weekend, Dermot and I ventured into Boston and saw yet another side to this somewhat multifaceted city. We got the subway to Park street only to emerge from the underground to find Boston Common absolutely swamped with a mass of young people. At first we thought that this might just be a weekend-thing but soon decided that there were just too many people for it to be a regular weekly occurrence. Indeed it was not...

We wandered through the park looking at the various stalls, still having no idea what it was all in aid of, and then a chance comment from myself to Dermot... "Is it just me or do a lot more people smoke in Boston than in Cambridge? Cos in Harvard everyone seems really healthy..."

We thought nothing of it. Hell, Dermot didn't even agree.

So we kept walking (Boston Common is pretty big, after all) and came to a set of stalls set up near a main stage which were selling posters. Given my room's bare walls, I was keen to stop and have a look around to see if I could find anything, while Dermot sought to find out what a somewhat agitated man was preaching on the main stage. While he made his way into the crowd, I conferred with myself and decided that my observations were definitely correct: "Its not just me, there's a very noticeable cloud of smoke rising from that crowd. People definitely smoke more in Boston."

When Dermot returned he imparted his findings. It turns out that this was the 'MassCann Freedom Rally': Mass for Massachusetts, Cann for Cannabis, and the agitated man on the stage speaking to a sea of stoned followers?! An ardent member of the Massachusetts Cannabis Reform Coalition. Apparently they'd all rather it wasn't banned...

Suddenly feeling ourselves to be a little out of place then - and prompted by the arrival on stage of 'Age Against the Machine' - we headed out of the park and set off for a venue we felt a little more at home with... *cough* the Boston public library *cough*    

John Harvard's foot and a sense of belonging

Today (among other things, I should quickly note), I've been wondering what it is that makes us come to feel like we 'belong', makes us feel like we are part of a community - whatever form that may take - as opposed to standing on the periphery. And one hypothesis I came up with is this: it seems to me that the difference between standing there on the edge and being right in the centre comes down, in some part at least, to shared knowledge.

Let me return to my favourite topic of late to sketch out my point - the history of the Glenalmond backpack trend. As I've already mentioned, loyal reader, this accessory went out of fashion during the transition from 3rd form to 4th form. Throughout that first year at our new, unfamiliar, school we had gradually come to see that something was amiss: why was it that all those in the years above didn't seem to harbour the same affection for the practical satchel? Moreover, what could possibly be the reason for them not caring to speak to us? It was only after a maths class on dependent variables that the penny dropped.

By the end of third form, then, we hesitant and anxious youngsters had amassed a body of shared-knowledge about the Glenalmond student community which, by throwing out that JanSport, allowed us to begin fourth form with a certain arrogant swagger. Having stood on the periphery of this strange group, we were now very much a part of it.

At Cambridge it was also a case of gradually learning the customs and traditions. In fact, substitute the rucksack for Jack Wills merchandise and you immediately have a case in point. But also take, for example, the gate frame on Clare bridge - the one with three arches for you to choose from to walk through. To the outsider or the fresher, any arch will surely do - all three, after all, allow you safe passage to the path beyond. That's certainly what reason and logic would say, but not so - to the ever grade-conscious student community, it is common knowledge that you walk through the middle arch at your own academic peril, with a 3rd awaiting all those who make that mistake.

Just as fourth formers say of backpack-clad third formers "if only they knew", so the old timers stand on the other side of that gate telling one in three freshers (with just a hint of sadistic enjoyment) "its too late now".

Among Harvard students, so too exists a body of collective knowledge. My first real awareness of this came one evening last week, as myself, Kathleen and her friend Aaron (a senior here) sat on the steps to the Widener Library in the middle of Harvard Yard, just past the famous statue of John Harvard with his 'lucky' shiny shoe. Suddenly, Aaron turned to me and quite out of the blue said: "Whatever you do, don't ever touch that statue of John Harvard...[a pause in which I look at him bemused thinking 'why?!' then he quickly resumes -]... hundreds of people pee on it every night." And so passed this little-known factual gem from one generation of Harvardians to the next...

As I've hinted at, though, its only when you can enjoy that satisfying moment of looking on and saying smugly to yourself "if only they knew" or "its too late now" that you have confirmation that your no longer on that periphery. Imagine my selfish contentment, then, as I walked through Harvard Yard this morning to see a queue of tourists patiently waiting their turn to step up to John and place a hand on his 'lucky' foot... if only they knew!

Whales and kayaks

Apologies for the absence, its been a busy week and I'm yet to get into a regular blogging routine!

Where to begin? Well, last Saturday Kathleen made the trip to Boston to see what all the fuss is about. To those of you who don't know, an introduction is probably necessary - Kathleen was on the same project as me out in Kenya last summer, and is a Biochemist at that lesser establishment on the Isis. We shan't hold it against her. She also hails from Cleveland, Ohio - which we probably should hold against her. 

Aside from spending most of our time hopping from cafe to cafe, we did do one quite exciting thing which was to kayak down the Charles River. Having boarded our trusty vessel at MIT we maneuvered ourselves between toppers and motorboats, jostling for position at the head of the pack. I maintain that I had good technique but it would be an overstatement to say I contributed in any way to our boat going in a forward direction: while Kathleen assumed the role of both rudder and engine, I assumed that of chief navigator (i.e. 'straight on!'). I did take some excellent photos of Boston, though, and will try and put some up just as soon as I get a lead to connect my camera to my laptop. 

So Kathleen stayed until Tuesday and for the rest of that week I was just busy with lectures and reading (i.e. I cant remember what I was doing so that will have to do!). The weekend just past, however, brought another welcome excursion in the form of whale watching...

We caught the boat in Boston and the journey was pretty long and rough - I will spare you the details but I will say this: when your 'strongly advised' to take motion sickness tablets, don't be that person who says 'pah, I'm tough, I'll be fine...' - you will garner no sympathy as you lean over the side of the boat, green of face (as you might detect, I spent the entire trip feeling hugely smug). After about an an hour and a half on the boat, then, we managed to locate a group of humpback whales and just floated among them (really quite close) while they played about around us. Mostly all you could see were the arches of their backs and the blow of air as they came up to the surface, but occasionally we were really lucky to see one emerge clumsily from the water which really was quite surreal. So now I've seen whales! Plus, as a day of graduate 'organised-fun', it was a good opportunity to meet yet more people.

I'm going to end this relatively short post here as that sums up the 'leisure' side to the last 10 days or so, but watch this space as I have a post in the pipeline documenting my impressions of uni over here as compared with uni back in the UK.

First few days of classes

The walk to my first class on Wednesday morning had a very 'back to school' sort of feel about it. I think I can explain why in one simple observation - in America, they embrace the backpack far more than we Brits do. At Glenalmond, it went out of fashion at the start of 4th form when our wiser, more worldly selves suddenly recognised it to be an obstacle to our acceptance by the years above: overnight, practicality was swapped for a disproportionately sore shoulder, bad posture, and wet books - but at least this new accessory better pandered to our social needs.

As such, Wednesday morning's sea of backpacks reminded me of those early, carefree days when your JanSport or your Quicksilver was - dare I remind you - all the rage. Your books were dry, your straps were done up, and you were ready to take on the world with the weight spread evenly across your back.

I - as you might have guessed - did not don my trusty JanSport on Wednesday, striving fashion icon as I am. But I certainly was filled with that same fresh excitement of getting to learn about new things in a new place that I felt both at the start of Glenalmond, and then at Cambridge. In fact, walking through Harvard Yard I would say that the anticipation was even greater - because for the first time in as long as I can remember, I felt a real sense of my current education being about the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake - not for the sake of passing exams, of getting a degree, of finding a job (all worthy ends, of course!), but purely for the sake of knowing more about things that fascinate me.

So enough of the philosophising, what classes have I been to and what were my impressions?

Well, the first class I went to was one given by the anthropology department on an introduction to archeology. No, this wasn't in the list I posted last time - I had, in fact - and completely unbeknown to me until it was too late - turned up to my International Law lecture an hour early. It was 10am, I somehow thought it was 11am, I'm not really sure how... Bottom line is this though: I may be a worldly graduate, but I'm still utterly hopeless when it comes to the simple things. Like telling the time.

Luckily, it was a very good lecture indeed - it was just history, after all. Plus, I rate any lecture that begins by projecting, in all its archeological splendour, a clip of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

The other classes I've been to over the last few days have been just brilliant. The politics and government of China class promises to be enormously interesting, looking at exactly the themes I hoped to learn about, as does that on international law, which is tackled more from a political science rather than a legal perspective. Perhaps most of all, though, I'm looking forward to my course on the foundations of comparative politics, purely for the course's immense breadth both in terms of content and geographical scope. My final course will either be modern Latin American history or the Politics of India - both of which I know I'm sure to enjoy.
 
I'm going to finish this post by reiterating my feeling that there's a lot to be said of inquiry, of learning for its own sake. Towering institutions like Harvard are, after all, built on such premises. Every now and again - particularly in those late-night library moments - I've found it tempting to question the worth of academia: whats the point of further study, wouldn't my time and small intellect be better spent getting a proper job? Being at a place like Harvard though, surrounded by boundless opportunities, really does make you appreciate - in its purest distillation - the importance and worth of following that basic instinct to ask of everything 'how' and 'why', be it in a practical real-life setting, or through abstract theorising in a library basement.



Conclusion: Mum and Dad, I'm doing an M Phil!



(...Only joking!...maybe)