Noughts + Crosses: A Review of the 6th episode of the popular BBC drama series

 Before reading, make sure you watch episodes 1-5 of Noughts + Crosses, and read my reviews of them! The below review contains a few spoilers as to what has already happened so far in the series…

Links to previous reviews:

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 5

Rating: 4 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐

There is A LOT of violence in this final episode of Noughts + Crosses. (Well, we don’t know if the drama will be re-commissioned for another series; here’s hoping!)

At times it does feel rather gratuitous. But at the same time, when rage, frustration, injustice and angst are blended together, things can get pretty out of control.

The much-loved grime rapper Stormzy makes an appearance in this episode, as the editor of The Ohene Standard newspaper, Kolawale. Stormzy delivers a pretty convincing performance. The guy can act, who knew?

Barely has the editor given the order: “Let’s party” to celebrate 100 years of The Ohene Standard, than the festivities are turned upside down. Members of the Liberation Militia barge in and smash at everything in sight.

It isn’t long before the police arrive, and though Callum and Jude manage to escape, their accomplice Nicola does not.

It is absolutely no surprise that Jude sees his friend being attacked, and runs away. He seems to be in the habit of creating trouble and then being too cowardly to take the blame for it. Although of course, knowing how brutal the police are to Noughts, we can sympathise with him to some degree.

Speaking of degrees, Sephy doesn’t want one. Her father cannot believe she doesn’t want to go to Okene-Aprica University, despite having been offered a place to study there. Okene-Aprica is depicted as a prestigious university, I suppose akin to Oxbridge. Persephone’s act of defiance signifies a rejection of the establishment, of the status quo. She doesn’t want to study at an institution that has created leaders that go on to continue the cycle of oppression against Noughts – her father being one of them. She doesn’t want to be part of a system that will teach selective history and stoke racial tension. More than this, Sephy’s decision to decline her offer shows the mind of a strong woman at work. Throughout the drama, Sephy takes up her place as an empowering female character – she has her own voice and she uses it even when men are trying to silence her.

Kamal, for once, is silenced by Sephy. He refers to his philandering with a Nought woman years ago – which produced his mixed-race son Yaro – as “outside silliness”. This is the same man who has been speaking of interracial relationships as evidence of an erosion of culture, and the products of them as “mongrels”. The hypocrisy is unreal. Furthermore, what would have happened if Yaro had not turned up at the Hadley house to tell Jasmine and her daughters the concealed truth, as he did in the last episode?

Jasmine and Sephy cannot cope with Kamal’s lies anymore, and decide to leave the home.

I don’t blame them. Kamal really does not seem to have a heart. In reference to the death of Nicola, after excessive restraint and force from police officers, he says “One of the culprits has already been… dealt with.” Who refers to the murder of a human being in such a way?

Kamal cares little about Noughts, and he cares little for his own family. He meets with editor Kolawale to ask him to discredit the (true) story that Yaro is going to tell the press. He will stop at nothing to cover his own tracks.

The word “halfer” is analogous to the offensive word “half-caste”. Kamal’s influence has meant Yaro is now being painted as a deranged attention-seeker.

Kamal isn’t the only one who does a lot of lying in this episode. So does Callum.

That’s not what he said about Sephy in the last episode!

Callum’s resolution to stamp out his feelings for Sephy enables him to take steps he would never otherwise have taken. In a drastic move to take power from Kamal, Jack Dorn authorises the LM to go for Sephy.

Callum is the bait, and Sephy takes it. In this moment, Callum becomes almost a Judas-like character, betraying the one he loves by first lavishing her with kisses – before he leaves room for the eagles to come swooping in.

The fear and betrayal in Sephy’s eyes cuts to the heart.

Callum watches on emotionlessly as another LM member thrusts a sack over Sephy’s head. This is not the Callum we know. What has happened to him?

Jude’s relentless taunting, questioning his brother’s loyalty to the cause, appears to be the push factor.

A look of approval and a pat on the back from Jack Dorn seems to have become Jude’s drug.

It is pitiful to see just how much Jude craves attention from the LM’s ringleader. His character is a prime example of how becoming marginalised and cast aside can lead someone to seek identity and value from the wrong people. Jack Dorn has essentially become his new father.

Speaking of fathers, will the father of Yaro Hadley please stand up – and be a real father? Nope. Nope, he won’t. All Kamal will do is pay off his illegitimate son and order him to go far, far away. Yet, as Yaro reminds him, no matter how many miles separate them, Yaro is not a fictional character. He is a bodily personification of Kamal’s romance with a Nought woman – evidence that he has broken all the rules he claims to stand on so firmly.

As different as they may be, Kamal and Jude are ultimately breaking the same rules. They are aligning themselves with a code which tells them that career opportunities and fame come before family. Their morals are being further flung out of the window, as their statuses rise. 

“This is my side. I brought you in”, Jude retorts, as his brother Callum reminds him that they are on the same side and fighting against the same system. Jude’s desperation to finally be a part of something, has come to trump everything. His relationships with his mother and brother are shrivelling away, all because the Liberation Militia has given him a new identity.

Sephy’s fear is palpable.

“She’s nothing. She’s nothing.” Callum repeats to himself, in an effort to reduce the woman he loves to a disembodied object. It’s a tactic used by many to reason away treating other human beings like animals. The Jews of the Holocaust were referred to as ‘rats’ by the Nazis. Black people were depicted as ‘monkeys’ during the slave trade and colonial era (and sometimes they still are). The Tutsis killed in the tribal genocide in Rwanda were called ‘cockroaches’. The same word was employed by Katie Hopkins to describe the refugees that drowned in the Mediterranean in 2015. The fact of the matter is, when people are stripped of their humanity, it is much easier to justify killing them or treating them with less, or little, dignity. That’s why today, we say 'Black lives matter' – for so long, black people were not even seen as human. In the United States, for a long time, black people were only seen as constituting three-fifths of a human being.

The very thing that the Crosses do to the Noughts – in treating them as naught – Callum is doing to his Cross girlfriend.

But two wrongs don’t make a right.

Callum knows that, deep down. Yet, with everything he has, he tries to fight his conscience. Avoid eye contact. Avoid talking to her. But that doesn’t change anything: Sephy is still there, and she is a still a human. A human being that he still loves.

And the mother and father that love her, too, will do all they can to make sure she stays alive.

I must say, this Police Commissioner is extremely annoying! Always butting in!

This wasn’t how you were going to change the world, Callum”, Sephy reminds Callum, as she sits with her back to the wall of her cell.

“Well, maybe it’s the only way left.” – comes Callum’s wistful response.

“No. It’s a choice you’re making.” Sephy replies, firmly.

This exchange is important. It gives voice to the desperation of a disenfranchised people, with centuries of oppression on their backs.

Desperation doesn’t cause only Callum and the Liberation Militia to go too far. Sephy also goes for desperate tactics in these desperate times. Angst and anger have transformed Callum and Sephy’s relationship from one of mutual love into a dysfunctional dynamic of extreme violence.

“I’m not your enemy”, Sephy tells Callum, as he retreats.

“No, you’re worse. Standing by, watching, doing nothing. All the while claiming that you love me.”

Ooh! That line from Callum! It echoes with the weight of centuries of white passivity, in the real world.

Martin Luther King Jr. talked about reaching ‘the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice’. For ‘in the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.’

Callum’s words hurt her, but Sephy doesn’t argue with the validity of them.

She does argue, however, with how Callum is choosing to translate the sentiments of his mind into murderous action.

Of course, so do Callum’s mum and Sephy’s mother. The tension builds in their relationship as they seek to protect and fight for their children.

It is the same parental instinct that fuels Jasmine and Meggie that eventually causes Callum to recognise the deep error of his ways.

Callum extends his hand to Sephy, symbolising a ceasefire.

Though Callum and Sephy call a truce, that isn’t the way of Jack Dorn. Despite Kamal having stepped down from his position as Prime Minister as the LM demanded, Jack Dorn still wants further revenge.

The money for Sephy’s ransom isn’t enough for Jack Dorn.

The leader of the Liberation Militia wants power – and he cares not a jot about he gets it. Dorn relishes being the one in control when he meets with Kamal; being at the head of a hierarchy where he is usually at the bottom. He knows that where Sephy is involved, Kamal will do whatever he is instructed in order to keep her safe – Dorn knows he has Kamal right under his thumb.

It takes Jude a while to realise that his newly adopted father isn’t the man he thought he was. Jude’s panicked words to Callum show how wracked with guilt he is for not realising sooner – instead getting swept away with the tide onto the wrong shore.

The penny drops in a big way when the horrifying event that concluded Episode One, is brought into the light. Jude realises that it was, in fact, Jack Dorn, that killed their friend Danny – as he lay fighting for his life in the hospital.

Dorn feels no remorse for he did. He unashamedly states: “Danny’s death was a game-changer.”

What kind of racial justice activist kills his own people in order to bring about change? Dorn is a malignant opportunist who will go to unimaginable lengths to further his own ends.

Just how far will he go?

How does the episode end?

The series?

I’m not going to tell you. You have to watch it for yourself! Literally today, because it expires on BBC iPlayer tonight at 10pm, on the day I write this! But I will say, this a phenomenal final episode to end a phenomenal series.

Thank you for reading my reviews - I hope you have enjoyed them and enjoyed the show!

All six episodes of Noughts + Crosses are available to watch on BBC iPlayer and various other streaming services outside of the UK. Go and watch it! I've tried not to give away any key spoilers!

Noughts + Crosses: A Review of the 5th episode of the popular BBC drama series

Rating: 4.5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (you know, I can't find a half-star!)

The below review contains a few spoilers as to what has already happened so far in the series, so make sure you watch the previous episodes and read my other reviews first.

Links to previous reviews:

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4

“We’re receiving news that the terrorist Ryan McGregor, otherwise known as the Decimator of Demwa, has died.”

This is the last we see of Ryan McGregor.

In the final moments of the previous episode of Noughts + Crosses, we saw Ryan brutally attacked by a Cross inmate, on the night of his sentencing.

The next we hear of him, in this episode, is that he has died.

It’s a shocking turn of events – Ryan had just been sentenced to 30 years in prison, rather than death by hanging. And now, instead of 30 more years to live, he has been afforded only a few more hours.

Meggie is completely dumbfounded by the news, as are we.

The most shocking thing is, she does not learn of her husband’s death through a sympathetic phone call from a prison official; she discovers that he has died from the television news bulletin. Such a lack of human decency – failing to inform his family in person of the news that will shatter their lives – brings home just how little the Crosses care about Noughts. Truly, they see no humanity in them – so why would they treat them like humans? 

The cup Meggie is holding falls to the floor and shatters into pieces. Sustained musical tones drown out the news, and the camera pans shakily around to show Meggie, still. She becomes a blurred statue in the camera frame as her sons rush down the stairs.

Like that cup, their lives have just been shattered into pieces. Commotion may whirl around them, but the axis of their world has lost its place. 

Noughts + Crosses does a brilliant job of depicting the harsh realities of racial injustice and racial tension, but it also does a phenomenal job of illustrating the realities of human relationships. Bereavement is the most severe rupture of a human relationship possible, and we see its effects at work in this episode.

“I can’t believe they’ve put me on hold”, Meggie says in disbelief as she paces up and down the living room. Neither can I.

The McGregors head to the prison, to ascertain the facts for themselves, as no one is telling them anything. 

The stone-cold grey lighting cast over this scene reflects the dismal mood. It is impossible not to be touched by the palpable grief of Meggie and her sons.

“All I can tell you is, his body was found last night in his cell and was then moved to the prison morgue.”

That is the clinical reply from the receptionist to Jude as she faces him from behind her protective glass screen. The receptionist may feel an ounce of discomfort in following such harsh orders, but she does not have to live the grim reality that the McGregors are now shut up in.

To learn of Ryan’s death through the news is bad enough. To then meet with those who should have told them in the first place, only to have the facts withheld, and then be told they are barred from seeing Ryan’s body… The disregard for Nought life is so tangible, it is as though it is hurtled at you through the TV screen.

“He killed himself?” – Jude  

“But you can’t tell me how or why?!” – Callum

It seems more than a little suspicious that Ryan’s corpse is being kept under lock and key. Doubts that his death truly was a suicide begin to surface relatively quickly.

The death of Sandra Bland is a real-life case where doubts have been cast over the ruling of suicide. When her mugshot was first released, the public even doubted that Sandra was still alive at the time it was taken, due to her appearance in the photo. Sandra’s death was ruled a suicide, but the nature of her violent arrest – for a failure to indicate – and her death in prison three days later, showed profound misconduct on the part of Texan police. Here in the UK, Simeon Francis died in police custody during the lockdown. The cause of his death remains unknown. Kingsley Burrell suffered a cardiac arrest in Birmingham in 2011 after being subjected to excessive restraint by police officers – his body was only released to the family 17 months later. 

Kamal the Gaslighter

As well as highlighting the evidence of racial injustice, Noughts + Crosses is extensive in its social commentary of abusive relationships. The marriage between Kamal and Jasmine is clearly one in which Kamal controls and manipulates his wife. 

In an act of defiance against him in the last episode, Jasmine shamelessly used money from Kamal’s account to fund Ryan McGregor’s defence – to support her friend Meggie and her family. 

Her defiance is quickly broken down though, under the merciless, manipulative hands of Kamal. His behaviour is a classic example of gaslighting: he makes Jasmine believe that she is losing her mind. In a matter of seconds, he has eaten away at her self-confidence. 

This creepy stare from Kamal sends shudders down my spine.

Ryan’s death changes EVERYTHING.

As the family battles their grief, Meggie warns Callum not to allow his anguish to turn into rage and revenge. She cautions him not to join the Liberation Militia. But this time, Callum doesn’t seem to be against the idea, “if the cause is right”.

Precious few seconds after this talk of the LM, the voice of their leader Jack Dorn echoes through the air. Dorn is one of my most hated characters on the show! He is an unscrupulous opportunist who enjoys gratuitous acts of violence. It matters little to me that he claims the cause behind his trouble-stirring is Nought dissatisfaction – the trouble that he stirs takes the lives of the Noughts he claims to care about! 

One of the more frustrating things though, is that Jude, still disenfranchised and still struggling with his identity, is quickly sucked into the web that Dorn is spinning. 

I don’t really understand why Jude is dumb enough to listen to Jack Dorn again, after all the trouble he’s caused their family.

“They killed him. Deliberately.” 

That is the assertion of Jude when he returns home to find his brother Callum, still sunken in hopelessness. Callum, the much more optimistic of the two, isn’t ready to believe those words.

After some time to reflect, however, the possibility no longer seems outlandish. Callum brings his thoughts to Sephy, and as usual, she chooses wilful ignorance – because anything else will change the level of comfort she’s afforded. She doesn’t want her father’s upcoming position as interim Prime Minister to be jeopardised.

Why is it always about YOU, Sephy?

At Kamal’s inauguration, however, the story isn’t all about him.

The beading on Jasmine’s hair – and her jewellery, point to the richness of various African cultural traditions.

As Kamal speaks of implementing tighter controls and greater police presence, a group of Noughts head to the front of the crowd, their chests covered with red and their hands in chains. Their message is clear: you say we are free, but everywhere we are in chains.

This breathtaking statue never gets boring!

Kamal’s first act as Prime Minister is to chuck the former Prime Minister, Opal Folami’s draft of an interracial bill, into the bin. Or, at least, to command that his cabinet do so – despite some opposition.

The ministers can’t believe the vitriol they are hearing from the new Prime Minister.

In a society where the idea of Noughts and Crosses forming interracial relationships is seen as engendering “mongrels”, it is perhaps no surprise that the loss of Ryan is handled so unfeelingly.

Meggie receives this letter from the prison. Identified only with a number, Ryan is not even to be buried by his own family, but only be 'disposed of' by the state.

Callum cannot believe the height of the depravity. “They’re disposing of him like a dog!” he yells at Sephy down the phone. And at a cost that is unimaginable for a family that is already struggling to pay rent.

It is more than a little suspicious that the family are not going to be allowed to see Ryan’s body before it is 'disposed of'.

Even Sephy begins to suspect foul play.

Kamal the gaslighter, at it again.

“I just think the time for silence is over.”

Such is the assertion of Meggie as she speaks to Yaro. Her words run through the current of events that follow. What has been hiding in the dark comes to light.

Kamal, after ordering his secret service officials to take Callum from his home offers up the flippant words: “Apologies for the nature of the invitation. It’s the only way I could assure your attendance.”

You will have to watch the episode for yourself to find out how their conversation goes.

Jude, the recruited, now becomes the recruiter.

We never expected this to happen, but in desperation, people take desperate measures.

Callum turns down a different path to the one that he would usually take, and Jasmine opts for a completely different mode of thinking from her husband – when she tells her daughter Sephy to follow her heart. 

The sentimentality doesn’t last long, though. The next scene is frighteningly jarring. 

The prison guard that tried to protect Ryan reappears.

“There were orders. […] From the warden, maybe higher even, I don’t know”, the prison guard tells Callum.

What follows is shocking stuff. The Callum that we see now is incongruous from the one we knew at the start of the series. Being led down a path of crime is common amongst those who have experienced relentless hurt and angst at the hands of an unjust system. 

The sight of the car screeching away with its angry tail lights, leaving two women feeling heartbroken and helpless in the ruins left by the men they love, is heart-wrenching.

I can't recommend enough watching this episode to find out more for yourself. There's a lot that happens that I haven't told you about. Be quick about it though; at the time of writing, here in the UK, the series is only available until tomorrow!

All six episodes of Noughts + Crosses are available to watch on BBC iPlayer and various other streaming services outside of the UK. Go and watch it! I've tried not to give away any key spoilers!

Reflections on Oxford Series Part 8: Oxford and Mental Health.

I know so many people that have rusticated from Oxford. Some of them started out with me and are now a year or two behind me. Some of them would have graduated before meeting me if not for having had to rusticate.

By the time I got to second year, I was truly shocked by the amount of rustications I was seeing. I really just didn’t think it was healthy, or normal, that a university should have such a high concentration of its students intermitting their degrees because of mental health issues, typically depression and anxiety.

What is it about Oxford that makes it so prone to making people like this? Why is it that people that have soared seamlessly through the education system suddenly reach breaking point when they come to Oxford?

It is worrying to me, honestly. In fact, it is a big part of the reason that I knew I had to write this post.

Before I started at Oxford, an acquaintance from back home said to me, “Oxford has one of the highest rates of suicide in the country.” Not the most comforting thing to hear, to be honest – and I assured myself I wouldn’t let it get to me that much, but the reality is, Oxford has been known to and does break people that much.

A few weeks ago, I found out the real cause of death of someone who had been studying at my college. I had sung with my college choir at his memorial service, and I had always wondered sadly how it had come to be that a 23-year old with so much potential had just “died suddenly”, with seemingly no explanation.

I guess it must have been because an enquiry and inquest was still ongoing at the time that the truth was not disclosed to us, but it turned out that the highly gifted PhD student had committed suicide. By jumping in front of train.

Because it had simply become too much for him.

It may seem hard for others to believe or understand how you can get to this point, but honestly, having experienced the kind of pressure that I can imagine this guy was under, I can comprehend it.

The number of suicides that Oxford University has witnessed, in the last forty years alone, is scary. In my second year, two students committed suicide within three months of each other.

In many cases, rustication may help save a life.

Support and Rustication

                But is it always the best course of action?

                Believe it or not, I considered rusticating in those last two months of my degree. I’m glad I didn’t, though, especially in view of some of the horror stories I’ve heard!

                As I said, rustication is a common occurrence on university grounds. I’d say most people know someone who has rusticated. I knew many. Some of them were my close friends.

                In fact, in my first year one of my tutors suggested that I consider rusticating – not because of mental health concerns, but because I had recently been diagnosed with a muscular chronic pain condition which was making my life difficult. (That’s a story for another day.) I was adamant that I didn’t want to – I didn’t want to delay the course of my life, I just wanted to get through my degree in the normal time-frame.

                Come the stress of finals, I was prepared to make that sacrifice to get myself well again, but having been made aware of some things since then, I can’t be completely sure that it would have been better for my mental health and general wellbeing to take a year out.

                There are a lot of things wrong with rustication.

One thing I noticed quite early on in my degree is that rustication seemed to be pressed on people with almost no alternative. You’re struggling with depression?, it seemed to be, OK, just go away for a year and come back better.

Does that always work though, really?

If you’re going to tell someone to go away for a year so that they can manage their depression or anxiety, what are you going to do to ensure that they don’t simply come back twelve months later in exactly the same state – or worse?

Oxford seems to be notoriously bad at this. I can think of at least four people I know who have rusticated twice because of depression.

I think it’s safe to say, rustication wasn’t the cure for them.

In the past, rustication was seen as a punishment. It was complete suspension from one’s studies for a year. In that time, students could not come back to their colleges, not even to go the library or socialise with friends.

You’d think things would have changed, right?

Not so. Even though you are still enrolled on your course, you are not allowed to enter college grounds – so those books you might have been planning to get from the library so you could study in a less stressful environment? You can’t get them.

Get this: at some colleges you are seen as so much of an emblem of shame that when you rusticate, you have to leave through the back gate. You can’t even take all of your things in one go. They have to be sent to you. I have read stories of students who were effectively forced out of college against their will because the college decided it was in their best interest to leave. As in, they found out the day before, You’re leaving, bye. Read more here.

How is that supposed to make anyone already struggling with mental health feel any better?

                I’ve read about and seen first-hand people who have been pushed out of college because they’re told they’re disrupting other people’s studies. One of my friends with a medically-certified physical condition was told by the Senior Tutor that she was “making it all up” and that it was “all in [her] head”. How would that make you feel? She was told that in me, as her friend, willingly helping her out and looking out for her, she was distracting me from my studies. I was infuriated.

                Some colleges have amazing staff that truly care for the welfare of their students. The welfare officer at my college is brilliant – so brilliant that the whole JCR voted to get her a special present to thank her for all she does/did for us! Others don’t. And sometimes there’s a mix of staff that care and staff that really don’t care.

                At some colleges, believe it or not, they have – or had until very recently – photos in the porters’ lodge of all their rusticated students. It was like an FBI most wanted list. If you had the face of one of those people on the wall, you were not welcome on college premises. Come on, is being ill a crime??

                Lots of people come back in a worse state after rustication. They have felt completely isolated during their year away, by virtue of the way they have been treated by their colleges, and are now in a new academic year where they have to make new friends. One girl talked about how, during her year away and afterwards, she had to deal more with the trauma of rusticating than actually dealing with why she’d been rusticated in the first place.

Oxford is not good at dealing with mental health. Because if it were, things like this wouldn’t be happening.

But these initiatives simply aren’t enough if the colleges, who have the most power, continue to be led and handled by people who couldn’t care less.

We also need to question what it is about the Oxford environment that takes people to this unhappy place so frequently. Rather than simply supplying support for cases of inevitable depression and anxiety, Oxford could deal with the root causes of their depression and anxiety.

For many, a real sense of unhappiness and isolation comes from being made to feel unwelcome. Unwelcome because of their cultural background, unwelcome because of the colour of their skin, unwelcome because of the way they speak, unwelcome because of their gender, unwelcome because they have a physical condition that limits them, unwelcome because they are struggling with mental health… This sense of isolation that so many feel has a lot to do with the university’s failure to truly expand into all echelons of society. If Oxford didn’t look so homogenous, those that don’t quite fit the general mould wouldn’t feel so disenfranchised. Though the university prides itself on saying that it offers lots of bursaries and has a great access programme, the things that I’ve mentioned above that make it so emblematic of elitism do make many people that are cut off from this privilege feel marginalised.

             We also have to consider how Oxford’s toxic pressure-cooker environment can take people to breaking point. The terms last only 8 weeks, yet in that time the average Oxford student does more work than some people might do in two 12-week terms. The intensity of an Oxford term even means people regularly talk about “5^th and 6^th week blues”. It’s talked about as though it’s a given that during an Oxford term you will get unhappy, extremely drained and fed up. It is not normal that unhappiness and stress should be so much a part and parcel of your degree – at least, almost nowhere else.

 I talked about the amount of work that we had to do with my fellow linguist friends after our finals and we realised that out of all the books we had to study for our Final Honours School, we could only be examined on about a third of them. So why did we have to study that much? Some say, for the pursuit of knowledge. Look, it’s great to learn, but when it means that the amount that you are learning consistently makes people feel overwhelmed and not only unable to continue with their studies, but with their lives, I think we should start to re-examine how high on the priority ladder we are placing “the pursuit of knowledge”.

Change really needs to come to Oxford, and fast. We can’t afford to have more lives lost or afflicted in this way.

Click here to continue to the conclusion...

Reflections on Oxford: Conclusion.