The tribulations of May Ball ticketing pales into insignificance in the grand scheme of thingsWikicommons

Like some of you, I’m sure, I too have been caught up in the midst of the ticketing difficulties faced by Clare May Ball. Despite the best efforts of the team, it’s safe to say it’s not gone swimmingly, leading to all of the tickets being recalled less than 24 hours after their release. This difficult back-and-forth, leaving potential Ball-goers uncertain of whether they had secured tickets or not, can feel like a form of confrontation each year, a tug-of-war. Have I got a ticket, or do I need to carry on fighting for one?

The need to continue fighting for something is a sentiment that is by no means alien to junior doctors this week. As they continue to voice their opposition to the government’s proposed changes to their contracts, they face an increasingly tense stand-off. Having rejected the final ‘take-it-or-leave-it’ offer from the government on Wednesday, the British Medical Association now finds itself in the firing line of the government’s ‘nuclear option’ – the imposition of the contracts regardless of the vocal opposition.

The obvious answer, one would think, would be to continue to resist – the latest polling from Ipsos Mori suggests that two-thirds of the public support the junior doctors. However, let’s not forget the reality of the situation. The NHS essentially holds a monopoly on employment in the health sector in Britain and, if strikes continue, it surely can’t be long before public opinion begins to turn as services are hit.

Resistance in challenging times is not always as straightforward as we might want it to be – sometimes the decisions which lie behind acts of resistance are fraught. Though the comparison may be crude, difficulties with securing tickets to a May Ball make you re-evaluate the whole experience: is the outcome worth the struggle? While a ticket for a single party (albeit a rather large and lavish one) perhaps does not carry that great a value in the grand scheme of things (though you wouldn’t get that impression from some of the ticket prices), when it is your livelihood that is on the line, as it is for junior doctors, resistance takes on a far greater importance.

That resistance can, of course, take other forms. For example, when we realise the scale of some of the disparities which certain groups are facing – a recurrent theme this term, and which again surfaces in the case of the gender attainment gap in the Faculty of History (page 8) – we rightly feel a need to push back. Such cases of inequality are often the products of historical complacency, and if we value a sense of fairness at all, we will support those who are looking to level the playing field.

However, in one sense this is an odd comment. Cambridge, of all places, is by no means a level playing field. Indeed, having attained the high standard expected of all Cambridge applicants, we are then expected to maintain and build upon them over the course of three years or longer. A near impossible task for most of us, especially with the pressures of work and the need to maintain a healthy personal life weighing upon us.

With this in mind, we are inevitably left admiring those who find not only the time, but also the resolve, to fight on. Hanging in there to secure a May Ball ticket pales into insignificance compared with the struggle of the junior doctors speaking out in defence of a livelihood which they are yet to really experience. While Cambridge life may have its highs and lows, it is those who go the extra mile despite their burdens who make this city and institution what it is.