The boys did better than the girls: or did they?

I will always remember my final dinner at Clare College, Cambridge. I am not proud of what happened; not ashamed either, just amused.

Our Master, Professor Robin Matthews was a distinguished economist. I had got to know him having been invited to tea at his lodge, because he was an ardent chess problemist: throughout my time at Clare we often corresponded, and I think I still have some of his letters to me. I even recall a particular opening he was enthralled by- Prof Matthews was a weak practical player, and his favourite line was nothing special. But the fact that we knew each other was relevant to what followed.

Prof Matthews gave a memorable graduation speech, installing the graduates with pride, ambition, and fellowship. The type of talk which is given year in, year out, at colleges worldwide, but, for me, one of the most memorable and moving speeches I have ever listened to.

He spoke to the audience: caused reactions. This year, in the sciences, the boys have done better than the girls. (Thunderous roar). Pause. But also, in the arts, this year, the boys have done better than the girls. (Even more stentorian rumbling). Pause. But, overall, the girls have done better than the boys. (Uproar, shrill laughter: I can picture the scene vividly now, thirty years later).

How could this be?

Sitting near me was Tom, a 'wrangler'. The term wrangler had dropped out of express usage by 1984, but everyone knew that Tom was one of the university's best mathematicians. (It was the existence of people such as Tom, who were incredibly gifted at maths, and who would get the firsts without seemingly doing much work, which made me decide to do engineering at university instead). I too had got one of the top four firsts that year in Engineering (if truth be told, I don't know this for absolute certainty- it was known that two of the three Clare students who got firsts were in the top four; the senior engineering tutor at Clare, hinted it, and my friend Andrew, who got one of them, believed he scraped a first, and it was accepted that Paul and I had got the top places). Anyway, people near us turned to Tom and I for an answer. Was it possible? No, we both decided.

I don't remember the rest of Prof Matthews' speech.

I do remember going up to him as soon as the dinner was over, and asking him had I heard it correctly, how could it be? His answer was perfect, coming from him knowing me: I am surprised at you, Allan. He then turned away.

Anyone who knows me will understand what I then did. Whilst everyone moved to the 'buttery', and I followed, I found a quietish area to go away and think about it. I don't know how long it took me, long enough, but not too long….but I found it. I then went to find Robin, told him with a smile 'Very nice', we laughed, and he wished me well for the future.

We never spoke again. I shall always remember Robin, and this problem.

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