The University of Oxford: Where Genius, Chaos and Latin Collide

The University of Oxford has inspired many things: awe, envy, wildly dramatic novels, and probably more than one academic meltdown in a coffee shop. It isn’t just a place where people study; it’s where they begin thinking in Latin, casually reference medieval philosophy at dinner, and develop an unhealthy relationship with footnotes. Anyone who’s ever wondered how one place could house both Einstein’s brainchilds and a college entirely dedicated to the study of Egyptology will find themselves spiralling down an irresistible academic rabbit hole.

Teaching kicked off at Oxford as early as 1096. That’s right, people were learning Aristotle and squinting at manuscripts while half of Europe still thought bathing was suspiciously French. There’s no official “Founded On” plaque either. It simply emerged, like an ancient oak or a medieval tax law. When the monks started muttering Latin at each other about logic and theology, the rest followed. Soon enough, you had the beginnings of what would become the English-speaking world’s oldest university.

These days, Oxford sprawls across the city like a particularly well-funded octopus, comprising 39 colleges and 6 permanent private halls. Each one is its own little kingdom, complete with ancient dining halls, rivalries more bitter than a half-burnt espresso, and porters who look like they haven’t blinked since the Thatcher era. It’s a curious setup where your college decides everything from your bedtime tea culture to your odds of forming lifelong grudges during rowing season.

There are over 26,000 students calling Oxford home. Just over 12,000 of them are undergrads, and slightly more are postgrads, proving once and for all that no one wants to leave. Maybe it’s the libraries. With more than 100 libraries on offer, including the legendary Bodleian which holds over 13 million printed items, you could lose an entire decade hunting for a book and not be missed. You can’t even borrow from the Bodleian unless you’re truly worthy. It’s like the Excalibur of libraries.

But don’t think for a second that it’s easy to get in. Each undergraduate place receives an average of 5.8 applications. That means for every one of you feeling victorious, there are nearly five others rage-eating biscuits and Googling “reapplying to Oxford without shame.” It’s survival of the nerdiest.

Oxford isn’t just British, it’s cosmopolitan to the core. Nearly half of its students hail from outside the UK. They come from over 160 countries, bringing a rich tapestry of accents, cuisines, and collective confusion about British small talk. The diversity adds flair to the ancient halls and makes queuing for formal dinners a multilingual experience.

Now for the star-studded guest list. You can’t throw a mortarboard in Oxford without hitting someone history would approve of. The university boasts 30 UK prime ministers. Thirty. That’s either a glorious legacy or a reason to run screaming, depending on your political leanings. Oxford has also churned out Nobel Prize winners, Olympic medallists, poets, revolutionaries, and enough authors to fill your Kindle with brooding protagonists for years.

Let’s name-drop properly. J.R.R. Tolkien cooked up Middle Earth while lecturing here. Oscar Wilde waltzed through Magdalen College, presumably judging everyone’s fashion. Malala Yousafzai, global education icon and all-around legend, studied PPE. Stephen Hawking got his first-class degree in Natural Science while most of us struggled with basic algebra. It’s not a university, it’s a Marvel-style origin story.

All this brilliance doesn’t come cheap. The university operates with an annual budget of around £2.5 billion. That includes funding for research, scholarships, professorial chairs, crumbling staircases, and possibly a few secret rooms full of ancient manuscripts and ghost contracts. Oxford’s endowment itself exceeds £8 billion, which is more than the GDP of some actual countries. Not bad for a place that still insists students wear robes to exams.

Speaking of robes, there’s matriculation. Every fresher parades into a Latin-speaking ceremony dressed in black-and-white sub fusc, which looks like Harry Potter cosplay if you squint. The ceremony is entirely in Latin, ensuring that you start your Oxford life confused and slightly underdressed.

Once you’re in, you don’t just get lectures. You get tutorials. These are intimate academic duels between a student and a tutor, often one-on-one, sometimes two-on-one if you’re lucky. You sit in someone’s book-lined office, sip lukewarm tea, and pretend you understand 14th-century ethics until they call your bluff. It’s intense, personal, and occasionally existential. No one leaves a tutorial without rethinking their life choices.

And when you need a breather from all that rigorous mental combat, there’s always the Ashmolean. Opened in 1683, it’s the world’s first university museum. It houses everything from mummies to Monet. You can wander in on a Tuesday afternoon and stare at a Cycladic figurine while mentally composing your overdue essay on Roman political structure. It’s cultural procrastination at its finest.

Oxford doesn’t shy away from global ties either. Its alumni community stretches to over 350,000 people scattered across more than 200 countries. There’s probably someone who studied at Oxford living closer to you than your nearest Tesco. It’s one of those invisible networks where a conversation about rowing or obscure Greek philosophers can unlock job offers, research partnerships, or just a shared nod of recognition at Heathrow Terminal 5.

And then there’s the Oxford Union. This debating society has hosted literally everyone. Mother Teresa. Malcolm X. Shakira. Kermit the Frog. If you’re articulate and brave enough, you too might one day follow in those felt footsteps and argue for the moral autonomy of cartoon amphibians.

Let’s not forget the Rhodes Scholarship. Every year since 1903, about 100 students from around the world get an all-expenses-paid ticket to postgraduate study at Oxford. It’s fiercely competitive, impeccably prestigious, and probably involves writing an application essay that makes everyone cry, including the admissions team.

The teaching terms at Oxford are famously short and brutal. Just eight weeks long. Eight weeks to read an impossible reading list, write essays, survive tutorials, attend formal dinners, and get into at least one crisis about whether you chose the wrong degree. Blink and you’re done. Which is just as well, because most students finish term needing a nap that lasts until the next solstice.

Even Oxford’s press is ancient. Oxford University Press, established in 1586, is the largest university press in the world. They’re responsible for more than dictionaries. They churn out textbooks, journals, musical scores, and the occasional academic work so dense it might double as a medieval weapon.

Back in the day, things got exciting when Oxford decided it didn’t fancy the Civil War happening around it. During the English Civil War, the university was temporarily converted into Charles I’s royal headquarters. Lectures paused, soldiers moved in, and one assumes the tutorial system took a brief sabbatical while everyone decided which side they were on.

It all adds up to a strange, magical, exhausting, beautiful experience. Oxford isn’t perfect. It’s full of contradictions. You can walk out of a cutting-edge AI lecture straight into Evensong sung in Latin. You can be part of a centuries-old college but forget where your room is because the floor plan was designed by a lunatic with a protractor. It is equal parts Hogwarts and Hunger Games, with a side order of existential dread and a glass of sherry.

But for those who make it through the gowns, the jargon, the relentless pursuit of academic excellence, there’s something remarkable at the heart of Oxford. A place where ideas matter, where history breathes through sandstone walls, and where the past and future are always in uncomfortable but fascinating conversation.

You come to Oxford with a suitcase full of books and leave with one full of stories. Or, at the very least, with an encyclopaedic knowledge of Latin terms, obscure cheese societies, and the quickest route from your college to the Turf Tavern without being spotted by your tutor. And if you didn’t Google “20 facts and figures about the University of Oxford” before applying, don’t worry. The university has plenty more surprises waiting. Some of them even come with footnotes.