secret police interrogation technique

To near-terminally dampen the ardour of your most inconvenient and earnest activists, simply hold them hostage in a windowless, sparsely oxygenated, fluorescent-seared room for several days. Subject them to a barrage of slides, a bombardment of bullet points, from a lecturer whose enthralment with his own voice is only matched by the tedium of what he’s delivering. 

There is not a whole lot about the common elements of an environmental permitting scheme, or market-based incentives, that have pierced the fog of my head cold. (And the lingering cold is doubtless contributing to my currently curmudgeonly mood.) But, what has been swirling around these past days is a sense of infuriated wonder about why universities create learning environments so inimical to actual learning. (The irony of attempting to study environmental law in an environment so harshly unnatural is not lost on me.)

Thankfully, there are tea breaks where I can remind myself about the existence of fresh air, chlorophyll and sunlight – and that, beyond the stultifying confines of the Bram Fischer Seminar Room, campus is actually quite lovely.