Rachael Tearney discusses the slow death of the Classics, the rise of ideological utopias, and the irony of a civilisation dismantling its own foundations.
So, the oldest, greatly esteemed university in Britain, with centuries of tradition and an alumni body that boasts some of the greatest writers, philosophers, and scientists civilisation has ever produced, has, in its infinite wisdom, decided to stop teaching Classics.
This was Oxford University’s April Fool’s Day announcement yesterday. A joke — or was it?
Articles dating back to February 2020 discuss how Oxford is considering dropping Homer and Virgil, and in January 2025, Cardiff University announced the end of its courses in Music, Ancient and Modern Languages, and Translation.
Permit me, if you will, to explore this new doubt surrounding the Classics in the same light-hearted vein. Just suppose they are now out of fashion — so yesterday, if you’ll excuse the pun.
There is a craze in publishing right now for dystopian novels, which can be adapted into scripts and films. Well, here’s mine. I present the premise of my first play for the New World Order, which has more than a smattering of Dramatic Irony and Tragi-comedy. Folks, I give you The Dead Classicists Society.
Setting: The near future. The study of the ancient civilisations of Greece and Rome — their language, their culture, their history — shall be no more. It’s irrelevant, superfluous, and over.
Scene: Summer holidays. An ancient ruin in the background.
We begin with the lecturers who waxed lyrical about the wonders of the Roman Senate, the democracy of the Greeks, the brilliance of the political theatre of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Aristophanes.
“If only,” they said for decades, “our own theatres could produce such works of political comment, such exposés of corrupt politicians and perfect representations of hypocritical power structures — why, then we’d have elevated ourselves to their superior democratic level.”
They continued, undaunted:
“We, and all thinkers like us — all academics — shall embrace the great theories of the Left. We will shake off the shackles of Empire and tradition. Shakespeare shall get a makeover — the old misogynistic, oppressive upstart! Second-best bed, eh? We’ll show him. We’ll have a woman play Hamlet, his greatest creation. What do you think of that, you Grammar School boy from Stratford?
Actually, while we’re at it — let’s get rid of Grammar Schools. We don’t want any more of his kind, thank you very much!
We shall wallow in the spiritual and moral disillusionment of post-World-War-One. We shall raise up the Bloomsbury Group with their lax morals, their lack of structure in society (and in novel writing); stream of consciousness — that’s what we want! Keynesian economics, Atheism, Altruism. We shall create for ourselves a utopia of superior ways.
It shall be done. We have created the Department of Education and taken control of the Theatres.”
Scene: The same. Evening. A Bacchanalian dinner party.
“Once free of the shackles of Christianity and the Metaphysical Poets, we can surround ourselves with Reason. Ours will be a golden age — true liberation.
We shall take the ancient Christian Church and replace it with our Cult of Reason —
No, that’s been done.
The Cult of Climate?
No, wait — better than that — The Festival of God the Creator.
Yes, yes, that’s good. Let’s do that.”
“Isn’t that just rehashed Robespierre?”
“Ssshhh. Don’t give the game away — Synod shall debate this in Spring 2025.”
In our new world, there shall be no class distinction, no oppressed workers — only freedom, education, and choice for all.
We shall do this from our Ivory Towers. We shall look down upon the great unwashed and uneducated —
Wait, no, that’s not democratic.
Let’s let them all in.
Let’s give everyone A*s.
Once eighty percent of the population are at university, we will endow them with our brilliance — our ideals.
We’ll denigrate the past, the Empire — we’ll show them the right way to think.
We, the Academics, declare that in our utopia there shall be no more homelessness, no more unfairness. We are one. Join us, in your thousands.
End Capitalism — it is evil.
Work for the State and demand higher wages.
Go on strike.
Push for more and more drain on the national budgets.
Live off taxpayer funds and never generate a penny of profit your entire working lives.”
Scene: Staff room, some years later.
“Hang on — what do you mean they’re cutting the department? Who is? What do you mean my job is on the line?” exclaims Nigel, clutching his Che Guevara mug.
“But how?” asks Jane, peering over her purple glasses, her pink hair resting on her shoulders. “We’re so vital to the nation. We — the imparters of superior knowledge. What? Do you mean to suggest that now that we’ve spent five decades or more decrying Britain and Western civilisation, and championing Marxism in all its forms — such as Chairman Mao and Pol Pot, those who dismantled entire nations, obliterated cultures and traditions, murdered millions — are you trying to tell us, we, the Academics, must succumb to the same annihilation as all those who suffered under Socialism before us? What? The damn cheek!”
Scene: Meeting of Union officials with Polit Bureau representative (appointed, not elected).
Nigel and Jane, with passion:
“This can’t happen — this is lunacy! The Greeks and Romans were extraordinary civilisations! Their culture is superior in so many ways!”
The Glorious Leader shall then declare:
“You taught us to discard the old ways. You cannot object to the creation of a new culture. We have decided, in our wisdom, that we have our own culture — and it is superior to yours.
We don’t need the Classics.
We don’t need the past.
This is Year Zero.
Thank you.
Goodbye.”
Scene: Oxford, after dark.
The first forbidden, clandestine meeting of The Dead Classicists Society is to be held in Oxford very soon, in the old works tunnel, somewhere under a car park.
For all historical, beautifully aesthetic buildings from the old world of the British Empire shall be destroyed. Utility over beauty.
They shall read from Plato and Shakespeare.
They shall dream of a civilisation where one is free to study, to dream, to build, to think, to speak, to earn money, and to own property.
They shall know that, in their younger lives, they had lived in such a world.
They shall know that, by embracing the Left and failing to defend the delicate balance of our brilliant democracy — our laws, Parliament, judiciary, and faith — they ushered in decline.
They shall also know that, by failing to instil a sense of patriotism and pride in Great Britain, and failing to respect the sacrifice of those who gave their lives fighting for our country and defending freedom, they secured their own destruction.
Scene: Epilogue.
If we shadows have offended — arrest us, and all is mended.
By Rachael Tearney.
Follow Rachael at @WritesRachael
Main Image: For illustration purposes only. Created with AI.
