Seamus Perry takes time out from the lovely Scarlett to talk about committees

I became what any other university would call ‘head of department’ a few months back, and as a consequence I find myself spending more time even than usual in committee meetings. Dons feel honour-bound to complain about such obligations, I suppose because they wish to imply that, were they not forced to attend IT committee once a term, they would be sharing quality time with Scarlett Johansson or conquering K2 or otherwise realising their potential as fully alive human beings.

I do not take this view of the matter myself, and not only because I regard my potential as a fully alive human being to have been exhausted some time ago. The truth is, I find committees actually rather absorbing, and I think many dons secretly share my opinion, though they can’t admit it in polite company.

I must concede at once, though, that some find meetings genuinely unendurable. As soon as the chairman clears his throat and murmurs those stirring words, “well then, shall we make a start?”, these unfortunates descend into agonies of spontaneous boredom, as terrible to witness as they must be to endure, glancing wild-eyed every few moments at the door that will imprison them in a hell of agenda items and action points for the next hour.

My old tutor, for instance, developed a pathological unwillingness to attend the meetings of his college’s governing body.

After several years of conspicuous absence, he discovered a new rule had been introduced levying a fine of £5 for every non-appearance. (This was a long time ago.)

Thereafter, promptly on the first day of Michaelmas term, he would present to the college secretary a cheque that covered in advance his absence for the year, chortling as he did so, with unmitigated relief: “It’s the best money I’ll spend all year.”

His lapses of tone on this matter were notable. He once published a piece in the London Review of Books in which he confessed that he only made it through those meetings he positively had to attend by imagining what his colleagues would each look like with no clothes on. This constituted a serious violation of the freedom of the press it seems to me, but he was being perfectly sincere.

A cruel fate had denied my dear tutor one of the great anthropological pleasures of university life. For the language uttered during committees is precious.

“I think we should keep our powder dry,” say people whose powder must by now have reached a state of positively Saharan aridity.

“Let us not rush pell-mell into this,” say people whose normal speed setting is ‘glacial’.

“I am merely concerned that we do not create another rod for our own back,” say people whose backs have not been remotely threatened by anything rod-like for years.

Well, I am merely warming to my theme, to which I shall return.

But now I must break off as the phone is ringing. I expect it’s that Scarlett Johansson again: I don’t care how nicely she asks, I’m still not going.

Seamus Perry is chairman of the board of the Oxford English Faculty