'Like?'
'Like? Like?'
'I mean who, you know.'
'Oh who. Well not the sexton is what I'm suggesting.'
'Why not?'
'Because his responsibility is to us, not to Mr .... Goodchild or his relations. He must have nothing to do with that grab and it'll be an ugly sight by Christmas.'
'I think we can probably come to some compromise arrangement there,' said the Master with a confident smile. 'Now—Garden Committee to report on the south lawn.'
So it went. Nearer and nearer came 12: Admission of Women, and step by step Jake's anxiety mounted, some of it now detaching itself and identifiable as anxiety about his anxiety. What the bugger was wrong with him? He hadn't had a hangover for thirty years but he could have sworn that today's was a radical departure. Well, thirty years were thirty years, weren't they?
Finally, by way of closed scholarships, a report from the Wine Committee, a discussion of a vile sculptured thing some people wanted put in the front quad and stuff like the recommendation from the historian of drama (the one who put on plays full of naked junior members of the university torturing one another) that the library should start a sexism section, 12 arrived. It opened innocuously enough with a summary of what the other colleges had done in the matter of admitting women and what their policies for the future were, as far as these could be discovered or inferred, all ably presented by young Whitehead. And it went on, if not innocuously then at any rate not leading to physical violence, with Dollymore back in the limelight outlining what he saw as the case against admission. Quite radiant with hypocrisy he led off with the point made by Smith in Jake's hearing a couple of weeks earlier, that to let women into men's colleges reduced the status of the women's colleges. After that he mentioned the harm he thought would be done the academic performance of Comyns undergraduates by the distraction from their studies he thought they would suffer. Then he unwisely stressed the opposition of the college staff to the scheme, unwisely because it was hard to think about the college staff without thinking first and foremost of Ernie, and if there was anything that could have united that motley Governing Body it was that whatever Ernie was opposed to you were for. As his final argument he dilated on the incompatibility between a mixed college and the kind of intimate communion which members of Comyns had enjoyed for seven centuries; undergraduates came and went, but Fellows lived their lives here. 'All that,' he ended, the dramatic effect heightened rather than the reverse by his bleating tones, 'all .... 'this' .... would be lost—for ever.'
There was a general murmur of appreciation of a case well put or at least strongly felt even if not necessarily found convincing. 'Thank you, Senior Tutor,' said the Master. 'Now I call on Mr Richardson to put the other view.'
'We are dealing here with an example of something we have all encountered more and more often over the last twenty or thirty years: a trend.' Jake spoke a little inexpressibly because most of his attention was concentrated on getting the words out with their syllables in the right places. 'I would say two things about trends. One is that while many or most may be undesirable and on those grounds to be resisted, a trend is not undesirable per se. The other is that while no trend can be said to be irresistible until it is altogether dominant, there are trends to which resistance seems likely or very likely to be vain. In such cases it may be better, more advantageous, to yield at once rather than fight on. So we don't resist a policy of admission just because admission is the trend, nor do we resist it if we have no or virtually no chance of winning. In my view that chance disappeared five years ago or more if it had ever existed. I therefore appeal to the anti-admission party to yield at once, thereby giving itself the chance of doing what it would no doubt call salvaging something from the wreck rather than being finally compelled and so losing the option.
'Such is the pragmatic case, and discussion there will turn on the resistibility or irresistibility of the trend. But before we come to that let me briefly state the human case. I see it as divided into three. One, from what we were hearing earlier, both men and women undergraduates are overwhelmingly in favour of admission in general. As with trends, this is not sufficient grounds for resistance. Two, when they arrive here these young people still have some growing-up to do, and to be able to do it in close daily proximity to members of the opposite sex is a clear and considerable benefit.' (There was a faint stir of rallying, chaffing etc. at this but Jake didn't notice it.) 'Three, admission to men's colleges is the only way so far devised of providing more places for women while leaving relatively intact the present collegiate and university structure.'
It was done. He found he was panting and leaned forwards over the table, head lowered, while he tried to recover his breath unnoticed. There was a handy interval before and while Dollymore asked if he might ask a question, was told he might and asked it.
'I'll take up Mr Richardson's 'relatively' intact collegiate structure in a minute; for now I'd like him to tell me if he would whether he regards the provision of more places for women as a, as a clear and considerable benefit.'
'Indeed I do,' said Jake, grinding it out. 'Mr Whitehead's figures show clearly the disparity against women.'
'I take that point: women candidates are competing for a proportionately smaller number of places. What assurance have we that to increase that proportion will reveal a similar or comparable increase in the proportion of those found acceptable?'
'I'm afraid .... I suppose....'
'More fundamentally, doesn't Mr Richardson's clear and considerable benefit rest on what I will persuasively call the faith that academically acceptable women are as numerous or about as numerous as their male counterparts?'
Jake's fists were tightly clenched under the table. 'In posse if not in esse.'
'A dangerous concession, surely, but let that go. May we hear some evidence for this academic parity or approximate parity?'
'The view I'm advancing can't be supported by figures or by self-sustaining facts, only by an adequate number of individual indications that woman is the intellectual equal of man, that her powers of observation, analysis, induction and so forth are on a level with his, and that her admittedly inferior performance numerically .... er .... results from a number of .... social factors of which one is that they can't, I mean she can't get into a university as easily as a man.'
The writer in residence spoke. 'Look, are you trying to tell us—' He checked himself at something said to him by the philosopher who was co-editor of a London weekly paper, then went on, 'Sorry, got it wrong. Is— what?—is Mr Richardson trying to tell us he believes that? About women being equal to men? Does he believe it?'
