As the start of Oxford term approaches, I have had to accept that my alma mater has closed its doors for the last time. St Benet’s Hall, Oxford, had been educating students since 1897 and was celebrating its 125th anniversary as a bastion of free thought and academic investigation. However, the hall’s planned joyful birthday celebrations abruptly morphed into its funeral oration, following a shock decision by the university council not to renew the institution’s licence.
To the casual observer, Benet’s – as it was always known – operated much like any other Oxford college. Yet it occupied a special place within the university’s history and governance structure. Established by the Benedictine monks of Ampleforth Abbey, who were seeking a hall of studies in Oxford for the purpose of enabling monks to read for degrees at Oxford, it was not technically a college, but a permanent private hall (PPH).
There are now only five left: two Roman Catholic, two Anglican and one Baptist. The main – and imperceptible – difference between a PPH and a college is that a PPH is governed, at least in part, by representatives of the corresponding denomination, rather than by the fellows of the college.
It was this quirk of governance that proved to be Benet’s’ greatest strength, but also its fatal weakness. It was governed by the trustees of the St Benet’s Hall Education Trust, itself a subsidiary of the Ampleforth Abbey Trust (AAT). Benet’s was, in fact, seeking to separate itself from the AAT, with the separation planned to lead to full college status. However, the failure to convince the university that Benet’s was financially viable resulted in the suspension of its student admissions and the rescinding of its licence.
It was a decision that the Ampleforth trustees claimed to present an “unacceptable level of risk”; as a result, the AAT put the buildings on the market, stating that the hall had not “produced the desired [funding] results within the necessary timescale” to become independent. It is clear to me that the hall’s closure could have been averted, and that some of the circumstances and events were outside its control; it had long been buffeted by the winds of fate, at the mercy of tempests driven by external agendas and priorities.
Oxford has taken a dim view of PPHs for years, fearing their distinctive character and the influence of religious denominations at the expense of university control. There is no reason why Benet’s could not have operated on a provisional licence while it looked for financial support, particularly as its transformation into a college would have given the university the sort of control that it desires. Other PPHs have become colleges in the past, and there is no reason why Benet’s shouldn’t have followed suit.
Equally, the AAT has in the past provided funds to allow the hall to remain a going concern. Why then, as Benet’s searched for new financial support, did the Ampleforth trustees allow one of the greatest Benedictine legacies to disappear forever? Where, too, were the Jesuits and the Dominicans, who run the other Catholic halls? The loss of one leading Catholic educational institution is a loss for them too, for their destinies are all linked. Our heritage is crumbling before our eyes, and the silence in the Catholic community at large has been astonishing.
My recollections of Benet’s are of a home and a family; it was unique and special, totally unlike anything else. Tutors, students and monks all lived and learned under the same roof, breaking bread and sharing knowledge together as equals. There was no hierarchy, and I particularly enjoyed our famous guest dinners. Everyone knew everyone, and supported each other through thick and thin; student surveys consistently showed that Benet’s had the highest levels of student satisfaction in the university.
Benet’s was also looking to the future. Great changes had been made in recent years: the admission of women; the appointment of the first lay Master; the move towards independence from Ampleforth; the looked-for transition to college status; a satellite site in Norham Gardens, a few minutes away.
The hall was proud of its Catholic heritage and traditions but was open and welcoming to those of all faiths and none. It could hardly be accused of standing still or of lacking ambition.
This is why its passing is so deeply tragic. The hall’s demise was unnecessary and born out of neglect and antipathy rather than misfortune or inevitability. Benet’s was not a moribund, regressive, failing institution, but a living, breathing, thriving community. It was an intrinsic part of the rich cultural tapestry of Oxford, higher education, Catholicism and British society. The hall was a paragon of strength in diversity, with its difference standing out in an increasingly homogeneous educational and societal landscape.
An extinct college or PPH cannot be brought back; once it is gone, it is gone. During my time at Oxford, I witnessed the closure of Greyfriars, the Capuchins’ PPH, and the sense of déjà vu is unmistakable. But this is also about more than just Benet’s; there is a wider struggle here.
We are witnessing the slow death of Catholic education in Oxford and also of faith’s place in education and society. There is a sustained campaign underway to undermine Catholic institutions and influence, and we must realise that we are at risk of losing our precious traditions.
In its time Benet’s produced some of the brightest leading Catholic and secular minds, and even the occasional Member of Parliament. It imbued me with an appreciation of history and of Catholic and community values; it instilled in me a sense of academic rigour and intellectual inquiry; it gifted me lifelong friends; and it nourished me, forming who I am as a person. It is hard to believe that St Benet’s will no longer be there waiting for me on trips to Oxford, and its closure feels akin to losing a friend.
Exceedingly few other institutions in Britain or in the world could have boasted of its unique identity as a Catholic house of studies within a world-class university. This was mutually beneficial for the University of Oxford and for the Catholic Church, and I firmly believe that British higher education is poorer without it. What has happened to Benet’s was against its will, and not part of its plan for the future. My heart goes out to the students who have been dispersed among the other colleges (what a horrid thing that is), and also to the tutors and the ancillary staff – who were also such a part of the family – now looking for other work.
Amid my disbelief, sadness and anger about the events that led to this, I have raised the matter of the hall’s closure in parliament; I hope to start a conversation about the way forward. It may be too late for Benet’s, but we urgently need a no-holds-barred postmortem to find out exactly how this disaster for Catholic education came to pass, and to ensure such a thing never happens to a Catholic higher-education institution again.
St Benet’s Hall was – is – an undimmed jewel in the crown of British education, and we must not allow this heinous heist to stand unchallenged.
Alexander Stafford is Conservative MP for the Rother Valley. He read History at St Benet’s Hall between 2005 and 2008.
This page is available to subscribers. Click here to sign in or get access.
Areas of Catholic Herald business are still recovering post-pandemic.
However, we are reaching out to the Catholic community and readership, that has been so loyal to the Catholic Herald. Please join us on our 135 year mission by supporting us.
We are raising £250,000 to safeguard the Herald as a world-leading voice in Catholic journalism and teaching.
We have been a bold and influential voice in the church since 1888, standing up for traditional Catholic culture and values. Please consider donating.