It’s hard to overlook the romance of Oxbridge’s supervision system: students huddled around a seasoned academic, furrowing brows over Aristotle, algorithms, or Anglo-Saxon poetry. But as much as Oxbridge markets these small-group teaching sessions as the jewel in its educational crown, cracks in the system have long betrayed a more troubling reality. Recent reports in both Varsity and The Guardian have illuminated systemic issues within the supervision structure, from alleged nepotism to exploitative working conditions. These problems are not new, but they feel more urgent in light of challenges posed by the COVID-19 pandemic, including heightened financial pressures, a shift to hybrid teaching, and lingering administrative and teaching burdens from transitioning back to in-person education. Why, then, does this pattern persist? And, crucially, how can Oxbridge fix it?

The recurring issue of exploitation in academia often boils down to money—or rather, the lack of it. Around 30% of supervisions at Cambridge are conducted by postgraduate students and early-career academics, many employed on short-term, precarious contracts. These individuals are frequently paid at rates that, once preparation and marking are accounted for, fall below minimum wage. They are often hired on casual contracts that provide little job security or guaranteed hours, leaving supervisors in financially precarious positions. Such conditions lead to high turnover, disrupting the continuity of teaching and undermining the learning experience Oxbridge prides itself on providing.

“Cronyism is the dark underbelly of the “personal touch” Oxbridge loves”

These systemic asymmetries are mirrored at an institutional level, where colleges project an image of grandeur and prestige but operate their teaching systems on neglected budgets. Funding for supervisions has failed to keep pace with rising costs and a growing student population, leaving supervisors underpaid and shouldering the burden. For instance, the University of Oxford has raised fees by an average of 6.9% annually over the past three years to address inflation and operational costs, often prioritising institutional reserves over investment in teaching. While students benefit from income-based bursaries and subsidies, many still face mounting financial pressures with limited support, disproportionately affecting those from less privileged backgrounds. This creates a system that exploits its most vulnerable participants to sustain an illusion of excellence. Systemic issues like favouritism—where tutors favour friends and insiders for coveted roles—further entrench inequities, ensuring merit often takes a back seat to connections.

Make no mistake: cronyism is the dark underbelly of the “personal touch” Oxbridge so loves to advertise. The decentralised nature of the colleges means hiring decisions often rest on informal networks, leading to a system that rewards who you know rather than what you bring to the table. For aspiring supervisors, this translates into a game of social gymnastics: attend the right wine receptions, find a well-placed ally, and hope for the best. This culture stymies diversity and discourages merit. While Oxbridge claims to prioritise academic brilliance, the reality is that when hiring hinges on connections over qualifications, the system isn’t living up to its own ideals.

In this context, supervisions are not just a pedagogical selling point; they have also become a political lightning rod. The recent marking and supervision boycotts during industrial action sent a clear message: when you undervalue the workers who sustain the system, it becomes increasingly fragile. Yet, the University’s response has largely prioritised damage control over meaningful reform. Without addressing root issues—job insecurity, underpayment, and “nepotism”—it’s difficult to see how Oxbridge can avoid further disruptions.

“Fixing the supervision system requires more than piecemeal changes”

The University’s reliance on a seemingly endless pond of willing replacements exacerbates the issue. While UK labour law makes supervisor strikes hard to organise, and thus boycotters easy to replace, this approach perpetuates a race to the bottom in pay and treatment, ultimately undermining educational quality. Treating supervisors as expendable diminishes the value of teaching, reducing it to a transactional activity rather than a meaningful exchange that benefits both teacher and student. Moreover, financial constraints faced by smaller or less affluent colleges—your Lucy Cavs and Mansfields—makes simple demands for pay hikes unrealistic. A sustainable solution requires more than piecemeal reforms—it demands a university-wide commitment to fair pay and equitable financial support for all colleges. Without such changes, the long-term sustainability of the supervision system remains in doubt.

Fixing the supervision system requires more than piecemeal changes; it demands a structural overhaul. Pay must reflect the actual hours and effort supervisors dedicate, not just contact hours. Standardising hiring processes across colleges with transparent criteria and publishing data on supervisor hires, including diversity metrics, would promote equity and accountability. Permanent contracts and pathways to career development, even without guaranteeing academic tenure, would stabilise the system and make supervision roles more attractive. These measures would draw a wider pool of talent, enriching the tutorial experience without necessitating a complete restructuring of the university employment model.

For all its flaws, the supervision system is worth preserving. It’s a teaching model that fosters analytical rigour, academic independence, and personal development. However, it cannot continue to function on the back of overworked, underpaid, and undervalued staff. If Oxbridge truly believes in the transformative power of education, it must prove this by transforming how it treats those who deliver it. Otherwise, the next time the system makes headlines, it won’t be for its brilliance but for its failure to learn from its own mistakes.