Abstract
Certain types of university, denominated as ‘élite’—Oxford is certainly an example—are often thought to have a structural or cultural capacity to imbue their members with a particular social or moral mission, or ideology. History is also a factor, insofar as the age of a university, which usually produces a lengthy relationship with other kinds of élite institutions, provides it with symbolic and material advantages unavailable to more recent and less well‐known foundations. The advantages are real, and can be documented, but a broader understanding of the evolution of élite institutions leaves some open questions as to how much influence an élite university actually possesses and how much the institutional imprint may be the result of ultimate as well as proximate causes. Moreover, academic aims and objectives change, so that the shaping influences of one generation may no longer exist in another. The seven personalities whose lives are discussed in this volume provide a chance to examine some of the issues associated with the education of élites.
Notes
1. The Swedish geographers Torsten Hägerstrand and Gunnar Törnqvist have developed theories about centrality using the expression ‘creative milieux’, gathering points for mutually‐reinforcing ideas. One essential requirement is a certain density, which usually means a city of culture, resources and audiences. Adding to the discussion, another scholar has classified creative urban milieux by their dominance at various historical moments. One drawback is a certain instability and impermanence. These centres retain their intellectual and cultural supremacy for only limited periods, succeeded in time by other successful gathering points (Hall, Citation1999, pp. 18–19).
The notion of creative milieux as developed by Swedish professors has been adopted by the curators of the newly‐established Nobel Museum in Gamla Stan, Stockholm. One display depicts the concentration of twentieth‐century scientists in environments where work of Nobel Prize quality was likely. Michael Frayn's play Copenhagen captures this quite explicitly as Nils Bohr and Werner Heisenberg, now ghostly shades, recall their exciting days of scientific discovery in Denmark's capital.