Policy Research Media Morhamburn

“Ay in the very temple of delight
Veiled Melancholy has her Sovran shrine.”

Monday morning and for the younger members of my university a chance to reflect upon a hectic and undoubtedly fun-filled Freshers’ week. As a second year I have tried to remain aloof, cultivating an aura of sullen mystique and intrigue. Regardless of how successful this endeavour has been, the past seven days, and seven nights, have been a reminder that it is a time of unlimited possibility. Spending a few minutes visiting a friend at the freshers’ fair, I ignored his rather dry stall (an economic policy think-tank, sadly) in search of re-invention. I could do all the things I had missed out on last year; take up salsa, design an eco-racing car, end the Middle-Eastern conflict. It was wonderfully liberating, but also somewhat saddening. Perhaps I had been a little too conservative in my choice of extra-curricular activities this time last year?

However, living above the college bar has also demonstrated the other side of this new found freedom. If it is a time of unlimited possibility, then odds are some of those possibilities lead to embarrassment, ridicule and humiliation. You start a blank canvass, a name, a face, a carefully chosen Facebook profile picture. Very swiftly, however, your very own social narrative develops. Inevitably, your sordid escapades and misdemeanours come to define you in a way that a trendy hair cut or vintage outfit cannot. There is a message within all of this for our politicians. Rhetoric matters little; it is actions that maketh the man. ‘Not inhaling’ simply won’t cut it…