When publishing her latest book Steeped: The Chemistry of Tea, the American chemist Michelle Francl probably didn’t anticipate it would spark a minor diplomatic crisis. But to say Brits have strong opinions about how to make the perfect cup of tea would be a serious understatement, with some Americans’ use of microwaves already the subject of significant ire. Professor Francl’s suggestion that the perfect cup contains a pinch of salt, therefore, provoked apoplexy across the Atlantic. Even the US Embassy in London weighed in, writing on social media: “We want to ensure the good people of the UK that the unthinkable notion of adding salt to Britain’s national drink is not official United States policy.” “I kind of understood that there would hopefully be a lot of interest,” Professor Francl, a professor of chemistry at Bryn Mawr College, told the Associated Press. “I didn’t know we’d wade into a diplomatic conversation with the US Embassy.”
Campus staff and recruitment agents for some of the UK’s most prestigious universities will have been in for a nasty shock when they opened their Sunday morning papers: some pushy parents they met with recently were actually undercover journalists. An investigation by The Sunday Times filmed representatives of Russell Group institutions discussing “back-door” routes used to recruit overseas students on to pathway courses. Reporters claimed that international students could buy their way on to degree courses with as little as a handful of C grades at GCSE, while British students would need A or A* grades at A level. Sector leaders have hit back, saying the story conflated entry requirements for full degrees and those of international foundation years, which are designed to prepare students for bachelor’s-level study but do not guarantee entry. “Revenue from international students is reinvested into high-quality teaching and learning to benefit all students,” a Russell Group spokesman said.
What’s in a name? The potential for an awful lot of confusion, if you ask Lancaster University. The institution has criticised plans for its neighbour, the University of Central Lancashire (Uclan), to drop “Central” from its name, saying the new moniker would be “very confusing” for students. “Our official name…is ‘The University of Lancaster’,” said Andy Schofield, Lancaster’s vice-chancellor. “We object to this proposal on the grounds that it would be very confusing to students abroad and in the UK who are seeking us as a high-tariff university known for both excellent research and teaching – particularly given Uclan’s proposed name differs from our own in just the last few letters.” Uclan vice-chancellor Graham Baldwin said that “Central Lancashire” was “a central government construct from the 1980s which is now largely obsolete with little or no current relevance or meaning”. Uclan or the University of Lancashire – do both smell as sweet?
The Catholic University of America could soon be following the yellow brick road all the way to the bank, after a judge ruled that the institution could auction one of the famous gingham dresses worn by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz. Donated by an alumna in 1973 to Gilbert Hartke, then the head of the university’s drama department, plans to sell the dress were challenged in court by Revd Hartke’s niece, who argued that it was a gift to her uncle, not to the school. A New York federal judge disagreed; now, the dress will be sold in order to raise money for an endowed professorship in the Benjamin T. Rome School of Music, Drama and Art, Inside Higher Ed reported. “Just like in the movie The Wizard of Oz, we have encountered some obstacles to reach this destination, but in the end it will be worth it,” said Rome School dean Jacqueline Leary-Warsaw.
The new year is a difficult time financially for many of us. One former university leader who will probably not be struggling is Craig Mahoney, after it was revealed that he received a bumper payout when he left the University of Law in 2022. His five-and-a-half months as vice-chancellor saw him take home a total of £515,000 – including a salary of £165,000 and compensation for loss of office of £340,000. This meant that the daily rate for the psychology professor, who did not have a background in law, stood at about £4,500. The for-profit institution attributed his brief tenure at the time to a “reassessment of [Professor Mahoney’s] priorities”. Following his departure, Professor Mahoney described himself on LinkedIn as a “self-employed” vice-chancellor. Prospective employers might want to consider haggling him down first.