craven.fr (.ox.ac.uk)

This is an article in my series on Oxford's colleges and PPHs. These 'profiles' are based entirely on my own personal perspective and opinions; prospective students are advised to look rather to the prospectus and alternative prospectus of any college they are considering applying to, rather than place too much stock in my descriptions. Previous articles describe what colleges are, then discuss Nuffield College and the PPHs.

All Souls' College is truly unique among the colleges and PPHs of the University of Oxford. Like Nuffield, it has an enormous endowment and does not admit MBA students. Unlike Nuffield, though—or any other college, for that matter—it does not admit any students—neither undergraduate nor postgraduate! No, this enormous, wealthy college, situated right on Radcliffe square at the very centre of the university, exists solely for the benefit of its fellows—it is the unique case of a faculty-only college. (*Some fellows do read for postgraduate degrees while at All Souls', but since they are already fellows I consider them more akin to faculty than postgrad students. Others' definitions may vary.)

That alone is enough to cause any Oxbridge academic to daydream about one day becoming one of these élite fellows, who can devote themselves to their research and teaching in a fantastic, exclusive, and well-funded setting. The dream is all the more tantalising because of the way one becomes an All Souls' fellow: it is not through some hidden old boys' network that no ordinary mortal could ever dream of penetrating, a Crown appointment, or some other inaccessible method. No, to become an All Souls' fellow, you just need to pass a test.

The All Souls' fellowship examination, as a result, has grown to mythical status within the university, and world-wide. Winners are rewarded with seven years' paid fellowship at this über-prestigious college, able to carry on their research in the most ideal setting imaginable. And forever thereafter, the line "Fellow, All Souls' College, Oxford" on the winners' CV commands instant respect even in the most rarefied stratospheres of academia.

If this were not enough, for a long time the exam itself was the subject of fascination. Besides viva voce and four three-hour written components, a fifth written component, also three hours long, was given to all candidates, irrespective of their specialty. It consisted of a single word. (Such as "water".) Candidates could take this any way they wanted, and write for three hours on it.

The goal, no doubt, was to identify candidates who displayed creativity and were all-around interesting people, besides just having academic strength, since, as I described before, at Oxford, graduates do their research primarily within their department. A college is a place to eat, sleep, and socialise. Thus, while the fellows are primarily looking for candidates with the best chance to produce important scholarship if afforded this tremendous opportunity, they also want people at their dinner table who are going to be interesting and engaging to talk to.

Unfortunately, I suspect that the one-word essay, as its fame grew, drew many people to try their hand at the examination just because they thought it would be fun. Having masses of mediocre scholars slogging through the exam just to see what the word would be that year may have been fun for the curious test-takers, but certainly would not be for the fellows who had to read their answers. So, recently this component has been removed from the exam, and the fellows rely instead on the viva voce to form their opinion about the candidate's ability to engage in stimulating and interesting conversation.

While becoming an 'insider' at All Souls' in the full sense is out of most people's reach, I was in fact as an Oxford student able to spend quite a lot of time at the college. Every term the college hosts lecture series, which are either open to the public or to university members, on a variety of topics that are of interest to the fellows. Attending these lectures is both intellectually stimulating, and gives an opportunity to see the college from the inside. The college's greatest asset, though, for me, was the Codrington Library.

Probably the most magnificent college library in Oxford (although Queen's and Lincoln could contest that claim), the enormous, majestic spaces of this library made it my favourite place to study in Oxford. As a postgraduate, I was able to obtain a Codrington reader's card, and I found myself going to this library more than any other when I had studying to do in the day time (its shorter opening hours are its only bad point—well, that, and the fact that it was built on money gained from the slave trade). It was a special experience, and I am very grateful to All Souls' College for making its library available to recommended postgraduates.

All Souls' represents in many ways the quintessence of Oxford's élitist "carrot and stick" approach to running a university: When one visits the city as a tourist, one envies the students that can get inside the colleges. When one attends as a visiting student, one envies the privileges of the matriculated students. As a matriculated student, one envies the privileges of those that can dine at High Table. And, even those at High Table, envy those who can dine at All Souls'.

To many outside the Oxbridge system, such traditions, rooted in hierarchy, may seem outdated. For those on the inside, however, they represent a continuous draw, motivating us to strive to do more—the system is set up in such a way that one's own achievements never seem to be enough, within Oxford. I believe that these continual incentives to achieve more are a great part of what makes Oxbridge perform so well—and in that respect, All Souls' College, abode of the brightest of the bright, must be seen as a key component of making the system a success.