Never knowingly underdressed is a common line that could be used to sum up Oxford's colleges' attitude to dining. Formal hall is a fixture at most colleges in this city, though there is a spectrum. Keblites drape themselves in their gowns six nights a week, while Balliol abolished formal hall in the sixties - Oxford's own version of 1968, with fewer barricades and more JCR motions. Most though, opt for some variation on the theme of a once-a-week sit-down three course dinner, with a gown and sometimes smart dress required. It's a Good Thing, and we should keep it.
Firstly, there's a good argument from tradition. I know, I know, it's a word that tends to make people our age recoil, and could be used to justify all manner of rotten things, but when the tradition's benign then I see no devilry in keeping in touch with the past. Oxford's bursting at the seams with history, obviously, and staying rooted is positive – as long as you don't get tied down by the roots. With so many bogus traditions being flogged – the florist who started claiming thirty-odd years ago that exam candidates had been wearing a different colour carnation every day for centuries must now be a mighty rich man – there's something simple about formal hall.
Jonathan Phillips, Keble's Warden, makes a speech once a year to incoming freshers. In a theatre full of hungover, snoozing eighteen-year-olds who've made it up at 9am after the inaugural night of too many Fagerbombs at Thirst Bar he manfully speaks on. If any of the assembled freshers bothered to listen they'd hear him flag up an uncommon word – commensality. It means the fellowship that comes with eating around the same table, and I agree with him that it's a hugely important part of what makes college life great (I have on occasion been heard bellowing, “I bloody love commensality!” after too much wine and another Phillips speech).
Sharing a table and setting aside some time in the day just to talk with friends over food – rather than the in-and-out in fifteen minutes job that canteen lunch or dinner can be – is vital. I'm not saying that a gown and a starter are prerequisites for good conversation, but taking that time is crucial.
The fact that fellows dine at the same time reinforces this sense of college as a community. Although this is promptly ruined by them swanning off to a table six inches higher than yours and getting to have better food – down with that sort of thing.
People often say it's off-putting – part of the array of flummery that scares potential applicants away. I'm sympathetic to this line – I think exam dress is pretty archaic and uncomfortable, for example – but we're talking about having a slap-up meal once a week, possibly in a gown that instantly becomes normalised once you're here. You'd have to be looking for something to be scared of for formal hall to prevent you applying.
It's also decried as taking too long. I'm not sure what people who say this would do with the extra twenty minutes they lose if it's formal hall, but I'm sure it'd make all the difference to their lives. Secondly the point missed here and by other critiques of formal hall is that it's optional. Noone's shanghaing you into the hall, trussing you up in a gown and keeping you forced into your seat at gunpoint. That wouldn't be good at all. But you can eat elsewhere. As I wrote last week, Oxford's very rich in eateries – try somewhere new.
So while I think Keble's six-nights-a-week routine is a bit much, there's certainly no valid reason for anyone to propose abolishing the institution of formal hall. Happily traditional, it binds a college closer together. And most importantly of all it's bloody good fun. Three courses of (mostly) delightful food and lashings of (mostly) awful wine with good friends in a usually beautiful setting? Sign me up.
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