Enduring awards

The sense of déjà vu struck as soon as I crossed the threshold. Grosvenor House: the women in posh frocks and the men in DJs.

In a previous, local government, life I was a regular attender of awards ceremonies, sometimes even in the exalted status as a judge. Mercifully such things feature less in my life as director of the Institute. It can only have been withdrawal symptoms which led me to accept an invitation to the Time Higher Education Supplement’s awards ceremony.

For the first half hour it could have been a local government awards event; or, I suspect, a gathering of cutting edge kitchen designers or accountants. As a massive group hug these things probably do serve a useful purpose. They are certainly financially remunerative for the organisers. But as a way of disseminating good practice they are, I suspect, a faux diamond encrusted sledge hammer.

But this ceremony was different. Given the nature of its readership, local government always had to buy in a humorous host. Higher education has its own home grown jester in the inimitable Laurie Taylor. There was also a charity collection, suggesting that academics have more of a conscience than council officers.

But what struck me most was the work that was celebrated. Science and medicine dominated: the Birmingham University School of Medicine; a prediction of labour onset device (not political science I assure you); the measurement of gamma ray bursts; the development of new bone graft material.

There was an award for an intriguing piece of political history – Lloyd George and Churchil: rivals for greatness. And the establishment of a new Centre for Reasoning (at Kent University) was recognised.

But overall social science had a very low profile. I cannot decide whether that is because of a mature aversion to Grosvenor House, a lack of pride, a bias among the judges, or because it didn’t deserve any prizes.

Phil Swann