The Margins Review · Culture-Centered Approach

  The Refuge A career guide for the academic who has run out of ideas The catering arrives before the consultation document does. This is the first thing to understand about a restructure, that the sandwiches are ordered with more care than the disestablishment list, and that in a room nobody in this meeting has ever entered it has already been settled which colleagues will be carrying a box of books to their cars by the end of the quarter. The slides are up before anyone sits down. There are four of them. One is a photograph of students laughing on a lawn beneath a sky that has never appeared over this campus. One is a graph with no numbers on the vertical axis. One says Enabling Our Future. The fourth thanks everyone for their engagement, which has not yet occurred, and will not. There is a young academic in that room who has quietly worked out that they are never going to write anything anybody wants to read. The thesis was pulled from the fire by a generous supervisor. The t...

  The Price of a Student's Voice ACT went to three student debates, listened to students describe the cost of their own training, and came back with a policy to defund the associations that hosted them. Somewhere in Palmerston North this morning a nursing student is paying for a hospital car park out of a StudyLink loan. She will complete around eleven hundred unpaid hours on the wards before anyone is legally permitted to call her a nurse, and she will complete them while cutting back the supermarket shifts that pay her rent. A midwifery student across town faces two thousand four hundred hours. A social work student faces nine hundred and sixty. In health alone, some twenty-one thousand students hand over in the order of eleven and a half million unpaid hours every year to the institutions the rest of us fall into when we are frightened and unwell. Last week ACT's education spokesperson attended three pre-election debates hosted by student associations at Victoria, Otago a...

  The Mothership Jason Arday, the Free Speech Union, and the machinery that was built to do this On Friday 14 August, the day Jason Arday was found unresponsive at an address in Battersea, the Free Speech Union published a piece about him on its website. It called the Cambridge professor "a fantasist and prolific embellisher" , ran through the claims about his life it considered ridiculous, and told readers it would not judge anyone for laughing at them. The piece was written by the organisation's campaigns officer and syndicated to GB News. Beneath it sits a box. Sick of the police being turned into a censor's weapon, it asks. Join 45,000 members. From £29.99 a year. Arday was 41. He had resigned from Cambridge on 5 August, after weeks in which hundreds of articles interrogated his doctoral thesis, his charity work, his childhood, his marathons, his qualifications, his memoir, his life. His family, in a statement released through his publisher, said he had faced ...

  The University That Consumed Jason Arday In the spring of 2023, the University of Cambridge could not photograph Jason Arday enough. Here was a working-class Black man from a Clapham council estate, diagnosed with global developmental delay as a child, a man who learned to talk at eleven and to read at eighteen , who had run thirty marathons in thirty-five days for charity and carried the Olympic torch, now appointed professor of sociology of education at an institution eight hundred years old. Cambridge announced him as its youngest Black professor. The press releases glowed. The photographs circulated across the world as proof that the doors of the elite university had finally opened. On Friday afternoon, Jason Arday was found dead at an address in south London . He was forty-one. The Metropolitan Police said his death was unexpected but is not being treated as suspicious . He died a week after resigning from Cambridge amid allegations of plagiarism and fabrication, allegatio...

  Manufacturing the Monster, Performing the Victim: Ani O'Brien and the Far Right's Two-Step In late March 2025, screenshots began moving across X. They showed fragments of a personal Instagram account belonging to Benjamin Doyle, a first-term Green list MP and the first openly non-binary member of the New Zealand Parliament. The fragments were stripped of context, stitched together with insinuation, and pushed outward by a network of accounts that had been shopping the material around for months without success. Within days, the country's political conversation was consumed by a campaign that Doyle would later describe as baseless and violent accusations , an onslaught of hate directed at them and their whānau. Within six months, Doyle was gone from Parliament. I write this as a communication scholar who has spent three decades studying how hate is organized, how it moves through media infrastructures, and how it lands on bodies at the margins. What happened to Benjamin ...