Graduation Address: Dr Sam Haddow, School of English
Tuesday 3 December 2024 – afternoon ceremony
Vice-Chancellor, invited guests, colleagues and graduates.
Life has a habit of moving the goalposts on us. There is always a new challenge, a new obstacle, some fresh turmoil that demands our attention. And, yes, these things are good because they keep us on our toes. But they can also make it difficult to know when we are allowed to step back, take a breath and say for certain that something is just done.
Which is what makes today so brilliant.
Because today we can all say, unambiguously and with pride; you did it. You set yourselves a goal, difficult at the best of times – and the last few years have not been that – of completing a degree. Today represents the culmination of many, in some cases eight or more years of Higher education study. And despite everything that life has thrown at you in that time, you did it. You are here. And so the most important thing that I can say in this address is, quite simply:
Well done. Very, very well done. You have pulled off a hell of an achievement.
For the rest I am supposed to draw on whatever expertise I have to think about the future and offer some well-chosen advice. For those of you who do not know me, my research is in political violence, grief and the end of the world. So the future, professionally speaking, is a slightly tricky concept.
But, honestly, so is advice.
When you are young, people will often fall over themselves to give you advice. Everyone has done it before; everyone is very keen that you should do things the same way that they did them. And knowing who to trust, who actually has your interests at heart, can be incredibly difficult. But, when facing this puzzle, you all have an advantage:
You are very smart people.
After all, as of a few minutes ago, you all have degrees from the University of St Andrews.
So when you face that chorus of well-meaning ‘you-should-do-this’s, remember what you can do when you set your mind to it. Remember that you have the tools to criticise and censure, so use them. And remember that you have to live with the consequences of your decisions, not the people telling you what they think is best.
But for those occasions where you do receive unwanted advice, I thought I would share a couple of thoughts on reaction.
The first is to remember the immortal words of Baz Luhrmann, in the 90’s pop song Everybody’s free to wear sunscreen (don’t worry, an old person can explain it to you later):
Be careful whose advice you buy but be patient with those who supply it
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past
From the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts
And recycling it for more than it’s worth
– Everybody’s free to wear sunscreen
The second, and this comes from my research, is to remember that when somebody gives you advice, what they are often doing is telling you to do things the same way that they did them, because they did such a good job.
So take a moment, remind them about glacial melts and rising sea levels, the acidification of the oceans, forest fires and deforestation, microplastics and floral and faunal extinction, spiralling inequalities and the rise of authoritarianism and of course the unique and terrifying implications of AI. Then ask, in all seriousness: “Do you really think, Sam, that I should do things the same way that you lot did them?”
The fact that your generation has come through such chaos in your formative years and education and yet still somehow flourished is nothing short of remarkable. Honestly, by this point, anything that does not kill you had best just start running.
And yes, there will be times in your life where advice is good and necessary and important. But you get to choose when those times are. Nobody else. You have earned that right and more than proved yourselves equal to it.
So, to summarise: Well done. Be selective and critical of advice – especially mine. Trust your abilities and resilience. And for whatever happens next, I wish you the very best of luck.