Defence agreement
Sir: If (a big ‘if’, I know) our politicians really would like to address the parlous state of the UK’s defences (‘Indefensible’, 21 February) but refrain from the necessary tax increases and/or spending cuts out of fear their unpopularity would open the door to their opponents, they should consider adopting a device the Danes have used to great effect for many decades. ‘Political agreements’, which I came across when advising the Danish finance ministry in the 1990s, are legally binding, long-term contracts between political parties to support and implement specified courses of action, regardless of who is in power, and requiring all parties’ sign-off to amend.
Perhaps Labour, the Tories, Reform and the Liberal Democrats could demonstrate they are serious about defending the realm by striking a ‘political agreement’ on a package to fund the £28 billion of extra defence spending needed over the next four years. Its make-up would be for them to agree, but a combination of replacing the state pension ‘triple lock’ with simple CPI linkage, limiting the deductibility of private pension contributions to the basic rate of tax, and retaining the two-child limit on child benefit would probably do the trick.
Charles Mercey
Tellisford, Somerset
My gift to Oxford
Sir: Your recent article on the Saïd Business School prompts a brief clarification of the historical record (‘Fee and easy’, 14 February). The Al-Yamamah programme was a contract awarded by Saudi Arabia to the United Kingdom. I played a modest role in helping Britain secure it, drawing on my commercial experience in the region and at the request of the British government of the day. The then prime minister, Mrs Thatcher, personally asked me to assist.
The programme ultimately generated some £40 billion for the British economy and supported at least 30,000 British jobs. Contributing, in however small a measure, to Britain’s national interest has never seemed to me a matter for regret.
I came to Britain aged 18 to study. Political upheaval in Syria prevented my return and Britain gave me education, stability and opportunity; my philanthropy has always been an expression of gratitude. Since 1984, I have supported scholarships enabling more than 1,000 students from the Middle East to undertake postgraduate study at British universities.
When discussions began in the 1990s, it appeared anomalous that Oxford, one of the world’s leading universities, did not have a business school. I offered to assist in establishing one. My support for the University of Oxford has since exceeded £100 million. Before any gift was accepted, I underwent extensive due diligence. To suggest that Oxford compromised its standards for a donation understates both the institution and its governance. The Saïd Business School is comparatively young, yet its Executive MBA is currently ranked first in the world by QS, and its MBA programme is consistently placed among the leading schools globally. That record speaks for itself.
Wafic Rida Saïd
London SW1
Course correction
Sir: I feel I must reply to Lara Brown’s article on the Saïd Business School. The suggestion that the origin of the school was ‘forced through’ Congregation misrepresents this sovereign body, whose members vote freely. The final vote on the proposal had 1,280 votes for and only 237 against (84 per cent approval).
As to the standard of English among MBA applicants, our testing for proficiency in English follows University of Oxford policy. Every applicant completes an online video assessment and, if shortlisted, is invited to a formal interview. Last year we invited 1,006 candidates and awarded 333 places. The MBAs enjoy their programme. Alumni report a 9.18/10 overall satisfaction and 90 per cent ‘aims achieved’. One MBA participant reflected that it was ‘the most joyful and enriching year of my life’, while another highlighted the ‘truly world-class’ calibre of professors. Our focus has been and continues to remain helping leaders positively impact the world.
Professor Mette Morsing
Interim Dean, Saïd Business School, University of Oxford
Toy story
Sir: I think Mary Wakefield misunderstands why adults love Jellycats (‘Jelly babies’, 14 February). I am a 24-year-old woman living in London. I’m sociable, happy in a relationship and not afraid of confronting obstacles in my life. And I love my Jellycats – but not for anti-anxiety reasons.
When they were my age, both my grandmothers had three children. I would like children, but won’t be in a position to have them for several years. I can’t afford to buy a house, and my parents work full-time and couldn’t give the support my grandparents volunteered when it was their turn. Despite the barriers to having children, I want something to love. Why is a Jellycat such a terrible substitute? I think many young people are indulging in childish pursuits not because of a wish to retreat, but a wish to have a child to do these things with. The fascination of young people with soft toys reflects the sad limitations society places on their ability to start a family. The answers to this issue are beyond the scope of this letter, but in the meantime, I don’t think a comfort teddy is the problem. And when they eventually arrive, my children will have a beautiful ready-made collection of cuddly toys to play with.
Caitlin Farrell
London
Hair apparent
Sir: Stuart Heritage (‘Notes on…’, 14 February) suggests that hairpieces have come a long way in recent years. I’m not convinced. If Elton John can’t buy a convincing one, they don’t exist.
Simon Collins
Kirribilli, NSW, Australia
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