That's such juicy gossip!” We all lean in eagerly as a friend gives the latest instalment of her extracurricular flirtation with her supervisor. Oh nothing has actually happened, but it could, it might, she can feel it.

 Our reaction to what is essentially a non-story characterises the air of scandal in student-supervisor romantic relationships. We are not children, our supervisors are considered our equals in terms of maturity and we conduct our academic relations with them as two mutually respecting adults. So why then does the very prospect of romance cause us to react like a bunch of scandalised schoolgirls?

Some light may be shed on this question by asking another one. Irrespective of our own personal opinions about the ethics of such relationships, how many of us are aware of what the concrete university rules are concerning them? There is no easily accessible policy, no clearly displayed university wide guidelines; it is difficult to know whether a liaison with a supervisor is frowned upon, discouraged or strictly forbidden.

The taboo is a product of uncertain boundaries, and student-supervisor romance is the ultimate blurring of the line, rife with assumptions, contradictions and conflicting opinions ranging across the full emotional spectrum: from outrage to apathy to enthusiasm.

Former Cambridge student Sam Black, now vice-president of the British Columbia Civil Liberties Association, has publically condemned the intimate nature of the supervision system itself, deeming it susceptible to manipulation and open to abuse:

"In my first year at the University of Cambridge I discovered much of the instruction took the form of tutorials, one-on-one contact between student and instructor. Many of these were conducted in people's homes, and the talk would frequently turn personal in a variety of contexts. Surely this intimacy must be a breeding ground for every kind of intergenerational perversion, and abuse of power imaginable?"

Others voice more laissez-faire attitudes: one student claims that they got the most out of supervisions when there was overt sexual chemistry. In order to navigate through these murky waters, some clearer 'ground rules' must be established.

Murray Edwards have got the right idea, having drawn up detailed guidelines on what to do if an academic relationship becomes romantic, which were adopted by the College Council in July 2007 and are displayed clearly in the college and on its website:

"The University of Cambridge regards the professional relationship between a member of staff and a student as critical to the student's educational development. Any romantic or sexual relationship between a member of staff and a student raises serious questions of conflict of interest and equality of treatment. They may damage the teaching and learning environment for other students and staff, and may pose a risk to the University's reputation.

“Implicit in the professional status and role of members of staff is a moral obligation to ensure that such conflicts of interest and risks do not arise, and that relationships with students for whom the staff member has direct responsibility in any way remain strictly professional in nature. Staff members have a professional and ethical responsibility to protect the interest of students in this way, to respect the trust inherent in the relationship, and accept the constraints. Members of staff are strongly advised not to enter into any romantic or sexual relationship with a student whom they are responsible for teaching, assessing, advising or supporting; nor to accept any new responsibility for a student with whom they have an existing relationship of this kind.

“The University recognises however that such relationships do nevertheless develop occasionally, sometimes of long duration. In such circumstances, the staff member has a responsibility to notify a superior (such as the Senior Tutor or President) of the situation in confidence. This person will try to assess the best means of protecting the interests of both parties, consulting in confidence as necessary for this purpose; wherever practicable, the outcome will involve the removal of the staff member from direct professional responsibility for and contact with the student. A written note of the action adopted will be agreed between the superior/colleague and staff member and retained by both."

The policy is not perfect. The notion that if such a relationship were to occur and “a written note of the action adopted will be agreed between the superior/colleague and staff member and retained by both”, for example, sounds a lot like the marginalisation of the student involved; decisions will be made on their behalf and without any necessary consultation.

Overall, though, it can be commended for its very existence, for avoiding a dictatorial attitude and above all for getting to the core of the fundamental problem with student-supervisor affairs: supervisors have a duty of care towards their students which is inherent to and inextricable from their position. A romantic relationship of any sort would jeopardise this.

Part of the beauty of romance is its spontaneous and unpredictable nature. Falling for a supervisor is not in itself 'wrong', and a relationship between consenting adults is understandable. The 'scandal' arises from the continuing sense of taboo, and the problems start when supervisors and supervisees mistakenly think that they can carry on having an academic and a romantic relationship without impacting upon either. Romantic involvement with someone responsible for your learning and development is indeed the ultimate blurring of the line. It's time for us, and the university, to draw that line back in.