Confessions and Lessons from LSE

It was not easy to get an accurate idea of what it would be like at the London School of Economics. The only thing I was certain of was that it was going to be an experience which would broaden my perspective and, fingers-crossed, my employment horizons. Whilst both those things were absolutely true, it was the unexpected lessons and experiences outside the classroom which I grew from the most.  This post is written for my younger self who was woefully under-prepared for what was to be a very challenging albeit very rewarding year.  

The Greenhouse Effect

In a class of 280 students there were around 60 nations represented from Iceland to Azerbaijan, Japan through to Kuwait - it was almost like being at the UN. Nations with large delegations tended to congeal into homogeneous groupings and throughout the year seemed to grow into their national stereotypes (warning: gross generalisations follow). 

The Frenchies, with a penchant for striped shirts, were an amicable bunch.  No matter how stressed, they were always charming and good-natured - "I 'ave two exams today so I'm going to play some squash, 'ave a nap and zen I'll see 'ow it goes".  When I asked how they managed to remain so effortlessly cool I was told that "you just need to give less of a sheet about zings, zat's ze secret to 'appiness".  It was a lesson I would hear a few times that year and, as a philosophy for survival, I think they might be on to something.

In contrast, Ze Tchermans took everything seriously- they were always well-presented in their freshly laundered shirts and leather satchels.  Despite already having several postgraduate degrees a piece, it would seem that an LLM from the UK was highly prized by German law firms who went to extravagant lengths to seduce the German cohort including; cocktails at the London Eye before a three star dining experience and a weekend in the Cotswolds complete with clay pigeon shooting and fireside tipples. For the most part, they had a tendency to be quite critical. On more than one occasion I was confronted with "this didn't work so well because of that" or the subtle "you're wrong and here's why".  To be fair, they were just as brutal on themselves and I suspect it's a side-effect of Germany's unforgiving legal education system.

There were large groups of Belgians, Greeks, Indians and Brazilians too and a hundred thousand Chinese students who generally studied the most commercially viable subjects. If China takes over the world there might not be jurisprudence but at least we will have an impeccable financial structure.

There were also a surprising volume of multi-citizenship combos; Belgian/Taiwanese; Italian/Brazilian, Australian/Lebanese and that classic Swiss/Welsch duo. Their enviable ability to flit seamlessly between languages and cultures complimented their broad and interesting global attitudes. Others were even more curious characters. On my first day, I remember meeting someone dressed like an 18th Century peasant - complete with rope belt, oiled beard and floppy brown felt hat. I'm still not sure whether this was national dress, a hipster-chic fashion statement or an ardent expression of Marxism. The student body was certainly a rich cultural tapestry.

The compact nature of the campus, covering just a square kilometer, meant that we basically lived on top of each other. Friendships and rivalries developed quickly like greenhouse tomatoes, which made for a very heated and stressful environment at times. In some ways it was exactly like high school, except a high school filled with competitive multilingual geniuses. I was grateful when awe of my colleagues faded to a healthy disillusionment but early on, I felt like a complete fraud and it took me a while to find my own groove.

Work hard, play hard, sleep optional

The LSE lifestyle was a physical, mental and emotional endurance test that carried on outside of the classroom and library through an endless series of combative discourses with peers.  I have a fond memory of dancing in a club at 2 am whilst debating critical legal theory with Avicii blaring "wake me up when it's all over" above our heads.  I also remember sneaking around a Royal Lodge in the Grounds of Windsor Castle late at night, sipping from hipflasks and assessing the merits of the motion "what's the point of Belgium".  Like I said, we were a curious bunch.

If you didn't live in the heart of London, it was a very good idea to make friends with those who did.  Living 7km from campus in Greenwich, in the dreaded "zone 2", meant that getting home after midnight was always an adventure - it might as well have been Mongolia. London taxis were a luxury beyond my financial means so beyond the witching hour I had to either face the night bus along with its treacherous interchange at Elephant and Castle - aka "stab central" - or beg some floorspace from the generosity of my colleagues, almost all of whom lived in tiny one bed hostel rooms near campus. One night at 4am, I recall sitting on the floor of a friend's apartment, sharing Maccas and simultaneously laughing at myself whilst drunkenly sobbing "there's just no room for judicial review!" There was a brilliant legal epiphany had that night though I can't for the life of me remember what it was.

Shanti and Shakti

I threw myself at the program with a fervent zeal and a personal challenge to meet everyone, sign up to everything and expose myself to all that LSE has to offer.  This peppy participation turned out to be both a very good and a very bad idea. My extracurricular activities were much more time consuming than expected. Coupling that with the academic challenges, some hefty financial stress and the physiological effects of three winters in a row, ensured that the first semester really took its toll on my wellbeing.

So I learned the hard way where my limitations lay and when it's appropriate to break them.  If you go too fast you won't reach a mythical sixth gear, you'll just hit a wall and crumble into a small heap, which is a rather difficult place to look dignified from.  

After one such episode, I received some valuable wisdom from a friend. She made me a gift of two Hindi words: "Shanti" (meaning peace) and "Shakti" (meaning strength) and suggested that I use them as a sort of mantra. "Peace" came to mean kindness to myself and tolerance toward others and "strength" was a reminder that sometimes you just need to swallow some rocks and harden up.  All in all, my time at LSE was an important and much needed lesson in self-preservation.

The Joy of Hindsight

LSE students are taught to live by the motto rerum cognoscere causa (know the cause of things). For me, this meant not only deconstructing the world around me but an intrusive deconstruction of myself.  I suspect that this aspect of my experience was fairly universal. When the jigsaw was put back together, the picture was quite different from when I started.  In hindsight, that was a good thing.  

If I have one piece of advice for my younger self it would simply be this: Pace yourself and enjoy the ride. It won't always be easy but it will be worth it. Bonne Chance! Viel Erfolg! and Break a Leg! (you're gonna need it).