Are you clever enough to get into Oxbridge?

Here, we invite seven Oxbridge alumni to answer a typical interview question. Would their replies pass the test?

So, do you think you’re clever? Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer that – unless you’re applying to study at either Oxford or Cambridge university. Tomorrow is the deadline for Oxbridge applications this year. But, as anyone who has been to either establishment will attest, the written submission is the easy bit.

Even the brightest, most motivated candidates are tested by the famously gruelling face-to-face interviews, which take place in December. It is customary for would-be undergraduates to be thrown the odd abstract question beyond the confines of their chosen specialised subject to get them thinking on the spot – and sweating just a little bit, too.

The infamously perplexing questions are designed to offer an insight into a candidate’s logic cells and problem-solving skills. Screwballs such as “Is nature natural?”, “Does a Girl Scout have a political agenda?” and “What does it mean to be happy?” have no inherent right or wrong answer. But how best should you phrase a response?

A new book, Do You Think You’re Clever?: The Oxbridge Questions, brings together the toughest, most esoteric examples of the genre, and writer John Farndon – a graduate of Jesus College, Cambridge – sketches out winning responses to each.

As a test, we invited seven Oxbridge alumni to answer a question. Would their replies pass the test?

“WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF THE CLASSICS DEPARTMENT BURNT DOWN?”

Stanley Johnson, author and politician, who read Classics at Oxford

I was a disgustingly precocious young man, so I would certainly have welcomed the chance to show off my knowledge of Latin. I would have toyed momentarily with the idea of making some quip about “fiddling while the department burned”, but I think in the end I would have snapped back with a line from Horace (Odes III, 3): Si fractus illabatur orbis, impavidum ferient ruinae (“Even if the whole world collapses, the ruins will strike him unafraid!”).

Dacre Balsdon was the Exeter College’s Senior Tutor in those days, and I know that he at least would have appreciated the response. They don’t make them like Dacre nowadays. Apart from being an inspiring classicist, he wrote a book called Oxford Life – still in print, I believe – and several novels; I remember one called The Pheasant Shoots Back…

As it happened, though, I read Classical Honour Moderations at Oxford, I chickened out of Greats, and read English instead. Not as feeble as Media Studies, but whenever I subsequently met Dacre in the Quad, he certainly made me feel I had let the side down. Still, tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis. Or, as Bob Dylan used to they say, times they are a-changin’.

* Stanley Johnson’s memoir, Stanley, I Presume, is published by Fourth Estate (£18.99)

“ARE THERE TOO MANY PEOPLE IN THE WORLD?”

Sir Martin Sorrell, chief executive of advertising giant, WPP, who read Economics at Cambridge

No – although I suppose the answer depends on their ages. One of the central problems facing certain western economies – and even the Chinese economy, actually – is that we don’t have a big enough supply of young people, which affects consumption.

I remember having dinner with a prospective Japanese prime minister who said one of the planks of his programme was to make sure he increased the birthrate. We were all very interested to know how he was going to do it.

I went to Christ’s, Cambridge, 1963-6. I read economics and got a 2:2, when it seemed to mean something. Christ’s had a formidable sports reputation, supplying the university with six of the First soccer XI, and seven or eight of the varsity rugby XV, many of whom went on to play for national teams.

The senior tutor was a man called Dr Pratt, who had a reputation of being very consumed by sport. The apocryphal story goes that at the final interview, you would walk into his study and he’d have a rugby ball on his desk – and he’d throw it at you. If you caught it you were in, and if you dropped it you were out. I had no great sporting ability, and luckily didn’t have it thrown at me; I had got an early offer of a place on condition of passing Latin A-Level.

“DOES A GIRL SCOUT HAVE A POLITICAL AGENDA?”

Wendy Holden, novelist, who read English at Cambridge

To answer this, I suppose you ought to sit in front of your interviewer, breaking down the various component parts of the question. You could turn it round and to start with asking “Why shouldn’t a girl scout have a political agenda?”. Then you might work through what that agenda could be and examine what the very open phrase “a political agenda” actually means. You’d probably end up with the conclusion that being a Girl Scout is a political act in itself as it represents a particular outlook and set of convictions, so the question of whether she should have one is redundant.

But that’s all rather dreary.

I’d try to think of amusing agendas a Girl Scout could have, such as “compulsory camping for WAGs”. I imagine that with all these questions there is no right answer – any "rightness" lies with the wit and dexterity you’re displaying when discussing them. After all, the interviewer is sitting there thinking: “Do I really want to be stuck with this person for the next three years?”

I wish I could remember the question they asked me at my entrance interview. What I do remember is falling over onto the polished parquet floor as I entered. I got a place, so maybe this Mr Bean-esque display was just what Girton College was looking for at the time. They always say that it doesn’t do to be too polished. Unless you’re a floor.

“HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE AN APPLE?”

Michael Rosen, children’s novelist, read English Language and Literature at Wadham College, Oxford

The idea behind the question is presumably to lure the candidate into revealing his or her "profile" or type. On the spectrum of so-called multiple intelligences, are your leanings towards the logical or artistic? Or the interviewer might be looking for evidence of willingness to be a divergent thinker. Or, again, evidence that a potential student could use their expertise in whatever field to address something everyday.

I would be inclined to start quasi-botanical, talking about crab apples and domesticated hybrids, before going off on a mix of symbolism – which gives you a chance to talk about Eden, and how an object connotes – as well as and non-scientific meaning and personal connotation. For me, that would mean two things: going scrumping, and rhapsodising about my mother’s stewed apples.

* A 20th anniversary edition of We’re Going On A Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen is published by Walker Books (£14.99)

“HOW MANY GRAINS OF SAND ARE THERE IN THE WORLD?”

Edwina Currie, novelist and broadcaster, who read Chemistry at Oxford

If I’d been asked this at St Anne’s, Oxford, I would have adopted the cheeky-bugger approach and answered: “More than I could count – and why would I bother anyway? There are more important things to do than count grains of sand.”

When I went for my interviews for a place studying Chemistry, I used to have one thing in mind: what would John Lennon say? I was asked “Do you believe in anything absolute?” I grinned at the dons and said: “Absolute zero, of course.” And they giggled, which was a good sign.

Then they asked: “Now, if we offered you a place, would you accept it?” To be contrary, I said: “Well, I’ve already got an offer from Newnham, Cambridge, and one from New Hall, Cambridge, and I’ve got a boyfriend at Cambridge, my uncle went to Cambridge, so…”

“Oh,” they said. “What would induce you to come to St Anne’s?

“I suppose if you offered me a scholarship, I’d have to accept.” They did – and so did I.

“WHAT BOOKS ARE BAD FOR YOU?”

Libby Purves, broadcaster, who read English at Oxford

I was asked something like this at St Anne’s College, Oxford, and suspect that I gave a prim, convent-girl answer. I was wrong. Discounting the risk of catching pig flu off a library book or dropping an atlas on your foot, I now think that a book is only bad for you when it closes your mind instead of opening it.

If you’re a man-crazy, insecurely vain girl who thinks happiness is only to be achieved through Jimmy Choos, then chick-lit will be bad for you; it will reinforce your silliness. On the other hand, if you’re too serious and prim, the same book might shake up your ideas a bit. The same applies to books that glorify violence. If you’re that way inclined, they may reinforce your tendencies. If not, they’ll help you understand the mindset of violent people, thus enabling you either to avoid them or try and cure them.

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I’M HAVING THOUGHTS?”

Marcus du Sautoy, mathematician and broadcaster, who read Maths at Oxford

With lateral thinking like that, you can find your way into a problem that doesn’t necessarily have an answer. To explain consciousness, you want to look at somebody or something that might not be having thoughts – such as a computer, or animals.

When I went for my interview at Wadham College, Oxford, the maths tutor took me to the top of the staircase to his office, switched on the light, and it didn’t work. So he said: “Can you change the lightbulb?” I thought this was a joke or something – I mean, how many mathematicians does it take to change a lightbulb? Which of course the answer is 0.99 recurring. But I wasn’t clever enough to come up with that answer at the time. I’m sure he would have been very impressed if I had. Instead, I helped him change the lightbulb.

* Marcus du Sautoy’s Finding Moonshine: A Mathematician’s Journey Through Symmetry is published by Fourth Estate (£8.99)

* Do You Think You’re Clever?: The Oxbridge Questions by John Farndon (Icon Books) is available from Telegraph Books for £11.99 + £1.25 p&p. To order, call 0844 871 1515 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk

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