The UK university system should, at least theoretically, provide an equal playing field for all individuals. At least to me, it was made to seem as if there was an abundant of experiences waiting for you at university, free of social barriers – be it joining the array of societies on offer, starting a new sport, or studying abroad.
However, a closer look into the social dynamics within UK universities, and particularly Russell Group universities, reveals that these opportunities often remain at the hands of a privileged few, dominated by exclusive social circles. For many students from state school backgrounds, the prevalence of “private school culture” can feel alienating and exclusive, only reinforcing long-standing inequalities and stereotypes that seem impossible to escape.
The problem begins before students even step onto campus. Despite representing only 7% of the population, private school alumni occupy a disproportionately large share of places at top UK universities. At institutions such as Edinburgh (which has recently faced its own controversies associated with the Edinburgh Tab, a student newspaper operating on the campus), Exeter, Durham and Oxford, private school students make up between 30-40% of the cohort. Moreover, 60% of students from private school attend Russell Groups, compared to just under a quarter of those from state school.
This over-representation is no accident. It stems from a well-oiled pipeline of privilege: access to tailored university preparation, connections to top admissions tutors and extracurricular credentials that strengthen personal statements and interview performance. Notable family legacies also often carry extensive influence, with many students coming from bloodlines full of University attendees
Whilst this reflects a broader debate about the ethics of private education in general, the story doesn’t end here. It is often the details of university life itself that truly re-creates a microcosm of private school culture, exposing hierarchies that are deeply embedded in social norms and opportunities.
Although the University of Manchester has a lower amount of private school students in comparison to other Russell Group universities (around 16%), this disproportion has still wiggled its way into campus culture. When I arrived at my first-year accommodation, half of my flatmates had come from private school. Whilst we all got on very well, there is undeniably something about this that can feel disconcerting, especially when one told me that it’s not their fault their parents just cared more about their education than mine.
As the year continued, it became clear that similar dynamics infiltrated most wider social spaces. Whether it’s dominating top sports teams, discussing the annual uni ski-trip, or controlling society committees, where membership and events can set you back £50 or more, private-school students can often shape campus culture in a way that feels exclusionary to others. As someone from a state school, the idea of joining Hedge-Fund Society, Lacrosse or Rowing feels largely inaccessible.
This exclusion isn’t always overt, but rather manifests subtly, becoming a somewhat invisible wall that fosters an imposter syndrome. No single person is at fault, but a multitude of comments and everyday experiences contribute to this feeling. Perhaps it was my younger sister telling me that the neighbouring private school kids at home refuse to be friends with anyone from her school. Or it could have been constantly overhearing people asserting they’d never vote for Labour after the VAT introduction for private school because their parents, who had 4 children at private school, would never be able to afford it, maybe it was meeting people at university that have never worked a day in their life.
Whilst some may suggest that university elitism is confined to campus life and will be escaped upon graduation, I’m not sure how true this really is. Access to internships, graduate schemes, study abroad programmes and even informal mentorship often hinges on wealth and the networks built through private education. A few months ago, I was confused when I couldn’t find any paid internships in Manchester for the summer; confused, until I realised that this was because unpaid internships in London still dominate many prestigious industries; confused, until I was told that most of these positions are secured through informal recommendation and family connections.
Ultimately, at its core, the domination of private school culture at Russell group universities reflects a broader inequality in not just the UKs education system, but in society as a whole. Success remains most accessible to the privileged, those whose wealth gave them a head-start from as early on as ‘prep’ school. Whilst access programmes and contextual admissions have certainly made progress in diversifying student composition, these initiatives truly only address the outer layer of the problem. True equality requires dismantling both the structural and cultural advantages that private school students carry into every element of life, and universities must grasp the unique opportunity they have to disrupt cycles of privilege rather than uphold them.
