Love and Life at the LSE

LOVE AND LIFE AT THE LSE

Many of us are familiar with the London School of Economics, or the LSE. Some have dreamt, or are dreaming, of entering its hallowed portals, and others are doing the same for their children. ‘What is it actually like?’ is a question that I have sometimes been asked by the dreamers, possibly on the basis of my two short spells there – the first at the economics summer school in 1997, the second as a Gurukul Scholar[1] in 2001.

LSE is among the world’s premier institutions for economics. It also teaches the other social sciences[2], but it is economics for which it is known – left of centre, hugely influential in economic policy circles in the UK, and truly international in its student intake. Unlike most premier institutions, it does not have a campus – it is just a series of buildings right in the centre of London, with easy access to all the (considerable) distractions of the city. The theatres, the riverfront, the shopping areas, the red light district, Stamford Bridge, Lords, the city centre, are all within walking distance. The students’ accommodations vary with price, from the flats at Butlers’ Wharf to the more basic International Students’ House, but all meet minimal comfort requirements.

What are the students like? First, a large number of Chinese and Indians – like the rest of the UK’s higher education system, LSE is dependent upon them[3] for survival. Indian girls have a particularly difficult first few weeks as their natural social constituency, Indian boys, are more interested in hitting on the white women during this period[4] - so if you have an inclination towards them this is the time to pounce. Second, though LSE touts its internationalism (students from 113 different nationalities in 2001-02), one sees very little diversity in that the students are mostly from that narrow percentile of the very rich, very elite, and will upon completion of their studies be off to the family business of running their countries or their corporate empires. Those out of this stratum have taken on a vast debt burden to be here, and the only realistic option available to them upon completion is to join one of the big consulting firms. Either way, there is nothing left of centre remaining in LSE except for a little rhetoric. Third, in repudiation of that old mathematical formula that goes ‘brains x beauty = constant’, the women here have that intimidating combination of stunning looks and extreme intelligence[5]. Unfortunately, they are also choosy and, if you are not very good-looking or very rich, you will be better advised to hunt within the narrower confines of your ethnic group.

A word about the library! This is one of the highlights of the institution, it is truly magnificent, and a great place to while away time even when you are not under academic pressure. The range of books is wide[6], the seating is comfortable, computer and Internet access is easy, and the eye exercise is marvellous. On the distaff side is that any photocopying and/or printing has to be paid for (and nothing is cheap in London). Also, the library expects you to know exactly what you are looking for – unlike others such as the Bodleian in Oxford that encourage you to browse in the belief that ‘the book you want is near the book you are looking for’.

For a leftish institution, the faculty were a market savvy lot – maybe breathing the London air has its effects. Those into the business of globalisation were rushing to take advantage of the opportunities provided by Osama bin Laden to publish new material on the subject. Others were ubiquitous on TV, providing punditry on a variety of matters. It was said that the good Profs were in the US of A or on their way there, where salaries are considerably higher. Having said that, we came across some very fine people there.

LSE also has important people coming to speak to the students. In the ten weeks that I was there in 2001, we had Bill Clinton come and give us a talk and saw first hand the way his presence had middle-aged ladies behaving like rock band groupies[7]. We also had the then PM of Denmark, Poul Nyrup Rasmussen, giving us an excellent talk on the Danish way (and his bodyguards too raised considerable excitement among the female members of the audience). Douglas Hurd, the British Foreign Secretary at the time of the first Iraq war, gave us a talk on the intricacies of dealing with Americans[8].

What did I actually do in LSE? The Gurukul scholars spent a term there, where we participated in a series of seminars and visited institutions across Europe (in my year we went to Geneva – the WTO, Paris – the OECD, Edinburgh – the Scottish Parliament, and Brussels – the EU). We also wrote dissertations – mine was on the workings of the Barents Euro Arctic Region within the broader confines of the EU’s relationship with Russia – to my shock it was selected as reading material for a course at IRMA in 2007. We ensured that all our visits outside London were such that we had a weekend to see the sights. We also did some personal travel, me to the Lake District and to the southwest of England, and one exciting weekend across the Arctic Circle in Norway. We spent time in class, in the library, and in bars. For those interested, LSE has a swish bar that is shared by the faculty and the post-graduate students, with seating space, soft music, and you can hear yourself (and others) speak. It also has an under-graduate bar that is permanently like a rugby team celebrating a victory. I went only once to the former place.

Is LSE as good as it is made out to be? The opening day introduction speech had lots of hagiographic rhetoric that stopped upon one of us asking the speaker as to exactly how many Nobel Prize winners were working here. So maybe not, unless you are doing a post-graduate course in Economics! But it is an experience, time here does embellish one’s CV, and it leaves you with a good impression of itself, London and the UK[9]. Go only if Daddy has the money, or you get a full scholarship (including for stay), or you are both brilliant and willing to slave it out in some consulting firm for the next ten years.
[1] The British Council website has the details of this scholarship – it takes 12 Indians who are in the middle of their careers to LSE for a term, and subjects them to a variety of (very interesting) experiences.
[2] Including development studies. I attended some of the classes and was disappointed by the course’s colonial attitude and the huge distance by which it was behind practise.
[3] This is because of the reforms undertaken by Margaret Thatcher that reduced the dependence of institutions of higher education on the government and forced them to balance their books. They do so by charging foreigners, especially non-EU foreigners, three times the fees payable by a Brit. China and India are where even non-elite families are willing to stump obscene sums in pursuit of an education.
[4] They do gradually return to the fold of their female compatriots, usually because the enthusiasm is not reciprocated – most British women have had their fill of the exotic Indian seduction strategy from their brown countrymen.
[5] An informal listing of the best places in London to find beautiful women by the (male) Gurukul Scholars of 2001 had the LSE library right up there with the swish nightclubs in Chelsea.
[6] I even found an English translation of “Nomads and the Outside World” by Khazanov, something that I had been looking for for years.
[7] We also saw the dirty politics that people indulged in to get a seat on his table at dinner. The Bihar Vidhan Sabha could take a few pointers.
[8] He said three things that stay with me all these years later – one, that the American public is completely uninterested in anything outside the USA (this is reflected in the fact that only a quarter of US Senators and Congress members own a passport) and therefore foreign policy is the preserve of a small clique. Two, that Americans do not know how to be in a genuine coalition because their systems do not allow for non-American leadership. And three, that American decision chains are narrow and involve others only after a decision has been taken and only so that it is disseminated effectively.
[9] Including British humour. A student broke into the then new Director, Sir Anthony Giddens’, phone answering system and recorded the following words “hi, this is Tony, new director of the LSE, and if you need to speak to me, leave a message after pressing three’ sung in rap. Nobody told the Director, and he found out only months later when he phoned his office by mistake.