Graduation address: Professor Robert Bartlett

Tuesday 24 June 2014

Vice-Chancellor, ladies and gentlemen, and – especially – new graduates. It is my honour to give this morning’s graduation address. There are two simple requirements for a graduation address. First, of course, that it be short. Even more important, that it conveys its message clearly – and that message is ‘congratulations’. So, congratulations! Congratulations to the new graduates, who have worked for four years (I did not say ‘worked hard’ but perhaps you have), and are here now, with your fellow students, in the presence of the family members and loved ones who have supported you and helped to get you to this day, and in the presence of some of your teachers, to acknowledge publicly what you have achieved. And so also congratulations to those family members and loved ones, and to those teachers, all of whose efforts have led to this happy day.

As a mediaeval historian I must, of course, point out to the new graduates that while you have pursued different academic subjects, you are all part of the university – a fine mediaeval term meaning, originally, nothing more particular than ‘you all’. And that term university, ‘you all’, reflects the fact that we can pursue learning, science and scholarship in many different ways, but recognise and respect other ways of doing so.

This morning we have graduates in English, Divinity and Psychology. These do indeed represent different ways of looking at things. If I said ‘mouse’, perhaps the Divinity student would think about intelligent design – how would a creature get such big ears and such a long tail without a plan? But the English student might think of a ‘wee cowering timorous beastie’ (we include English and Scottish literature in a broad church here). And what of a Psychology student? Let us be kind. They might think of a creature that learnt to win a piece of cheese when it could count to ten. These are different ways of looking, but, in some deeper sense, the same way of looking – based on investigation and inquiry, an open mind, a sense of when something can be demonstrated (and when it cannot).

These different ways, however, present me with a problem. Every graduation address needs a joke. But how can you find a joke that fits students of English, Divinity and Psychology? The best I could come up with is the one about the dyslexic, insomniac, agnostic who lies awake at night wondering if there is a dog.

But let us pass quickly along.

You have just graduated.  How did you do it? I do not mean by your efforts over the past four years, but by what you have just done today. You did it by dressing in colourful and unusual clothes and hearing some Latin. Why is that?

As a mediaeval historian, I can explain, but will do so as quickly and painlessly as I can. The modern university is a direct, unbroken descendant of the mediaeval university – as we know particularly well here in St Andrews, where we are still glowing from the celebration of our 600th Anniversary. In the Middle Ages great moments were celebrated by grand ritual, solemn speech and shamelessly gaudy clothes – for the men as well as the women (see the well-titled book Men in Black for the sad monochroming of powerful men that characterises modern times – compare the dress of Cardinal Richelieu and David Cameron, both prime ministers but of different chromatic impact).

You are lucky to be in the dressing-up tradition and, from here on the stage, we can see how, as each row of students return to their seats, the colour in  the Hall builds up. You change from black-and-white to multicoloured. Let us hope this is an image for the rest of your lives!

Like the university, graduation is a mediaeval invention that we still cherish. And, of course, the word is of Latin origin, from the Latin gradus – ‘step’.

What does that mean?

You will step up – that is the original implication of the word – to a recognised and esteemed status, marked by the letters after your name; and we hope that you will honour those letters just as they honour you.

You will step out – from the small intense world that is St Andrews into a bigger, perhaps more challenging world. That is part of the excitement – where will you go next, where will you end up?

You may worry that you might step off: but you do not. Graduation does not conclude your relationship with the University – it cements it. Your ties with this university are permanent and you will always be welcome here.

As I said, there are two simple requirements for a graduation address, to be brief and to say congratulations. I hope I have been brief enough. And I am very happy to conclude by repeating these simple but heartfelt few syllables –‘congratulations!’