Medieval England knew of student disturbances bloodier and more violent than anything that has occurred in Grosvenor Square to date. Yet today's disturbances have a radically different quality. The days of moderate dominance have seemingly passed. Indeed, the position of the National Union of Students as the Woodcraft Folk of Transport House is itself in jeopardy. Their post-student leaders can no more control the radical minority than convince the vice-chancellors that today's student is any different from his 1930s predecessor. Tio Pepe diplomacy is still more impressive to them than militant action. Nevertheless, the actions of 27 October (in as far as they concerned students) have crystallised the dilemma of what might be termed the disenfranchised privileged. Votes at 18 can only placate the more vociferous. What is at stake in the present wave of student unrest is no less than the fabric of our presently intimately stratified society. The prime motivation even of today's Maoists can only be guilt. As the pieces that follow indicate, we would be well advised not to dismiss this present activity as a transitory phenomenon. For behind all the romantic political hogwash, today's students are displaying a level of responsibility that was previously never apparent. For too long the British student was the joke of Europe — epitomized by the King's, London, engineer; he didn't read and it was doubtful that he could even count. Only Oxbridge and sitting below the Chelsea boot really mattered. Perhaps at Oxbridge this is still true.