The value of a university education, 20 years on

I went to a university reunion recently - ostensibly to celebrate the 50th aniversary of the founding of York University, but mostly to catch up with the old York RAG crowd with whom I spent most of my 3 years as an undergraduate.

The weekend was a blur of motorway driving, eating, drinking, and the kind of vicious mocking of the previous nights drunken antics that can only ever be done amongst real friends, and it made me come one very stark realisation:

I have virtually no memories of my 3 years of higher education that actually relate to education.

I arrived at York in the autumn of 1993 as a fresh-faced undergraduate, not long turned 18 and theoretically ready to take on the twin challenges of Economics and Politics at one of the better Universities in England - I said farewell to my parents and set them back on their way home, acclimatised to the glamorous surroundings of my room in Vanbrugh C block, and set out to find out what this university thing was all about.

Before I go any further, it should be pointed out that I do have distinct memories of my time at York - it’s not (all) an alcohic haze, but…

I remember demonstrating the arcane art of pub golf to the newest intake of wannabe Raggies by downing a shot, a half, and a pint of beer in rapid succession in a Vanbrugh college lecture theatre that is pretty much unchanged to this day (V045, in case you’re interested).

I remember the late nights sat around in Goodricke Snack Bar long after the bar(s) had closed, talking nonsense and eating random toasted sandwiches with like-minded folks.

I remember piling into a coach or a minibus for the RAG raids to a different city every weekend in the name of charidee, and I definitely remember the smell of the coinage as we counted and bagged it all before inevitably heading off to the pub (and I can still count up small change pretty damned quickly).

I can remember failing to secure myself a cushy sabbatical year by getting elected as RAG president (twice), and spending both of the election nights getting gloriously hammered with my opposition.

I can remember jumping up and down on Wentworth bridge at any opportunity to make it bounce.

I can remember setting up countless gigs and discos across campus with the SU Ents crew, predominantly to keep them sweet and secure their services pro bono for RAG events.

I can remember racing porters trollies loaded with stage blocks down the hill from Alcuin college to Vanbrugh college, with just the barest ability to stop them before careening into the (allegedly and anecdotally toxic) lake that always appeared to rush towards you at the end.

I can even remember deliberately opting to drink Merrydown in the first term of my first year - it put me off cider for the best part of 15 years.

But can I remember much of my course? My tutorial groups? My final exams? Nope.

Have I ever used the subject matter learned for my degree in any practical capacity in my adult working life? Nope.

So what was the point in spending 3 years drinking, arseing about, and accruing not-insignificant levels of student debt when I should apparently have been working hard and preparing myself for a life as a banker, financial PR sleazebag, or some other exciting profession? Should I have just gone out and got a job instead?

The short answer is that despite me having little or no academic memories of my time in academia, it made me who I am today in one way or another:

• It turned me from a schoolboy into the beginnings of a man.
• It taught me how to get on with a wide range of people.
• It taught me how to live outside of my parents home and to stand on my own two feet.
• It taught me to think critically.
• And it taught me that drinking several pints of snakebite, Pernod and blackcurrant is not necessarily as good an idea as it initially appears...

Altogether more importantly, it introduced me to some people that I am happy to call friends all these years later (even if they are still a bunch of crazy, disreputable, drunken idiots).

You know what? I think it was worth it.

Originally posted on Medium