Matriculating for an MRS degree

What does it say about feminism that going to university to find a husband now passes for a rather amusing ‘concept art piece’? As a fan of amusing applications of scientific methods, I can’t help but kind of admire the stark efficiency with which Alexandra Humphreys has taken on the task of finding ‘the man I wake up next to for the rest of my life’. I feel confident in predicting that it will be as effective as other methods of husband-finding: somewhat, sometimes. Judging from the failure rate, you see, I feel quite safe in stating that love is quite an inexact science.

But Humphreys project is also a rather depressing reminder of an antiquated practise that is not quite old-fashioned enough to be hilarious. Most women, thankfully, no longer regard university as merely a place to find a suitable boy to marry them and prevent them from ever having to think again. But some do. Rarely have I been so offended as I was when my dad reported to me that one of his colleagues has proudly declared, after studying at three different universities, his daughter had finally ‘got her MRS degree’. In the noughties! Come on, people!

It also makes me consider the question of whether it is even a good idea to marry someone that you meet in university. Spinsterhood past the age of 23, I think, has much to recommend it. Statistics indicate that marriages between those in their early twenties have a signficantly higher failure rate than those that commence later on. Could it be that most of us actually have quite a bit of maturing to do after university, even though nothing feels quite so sophisticated as being twenty years old and staying up all night because your mum can no longer intervene? Oh, I think it could.

I wish Miss Humphreys luck with her project, I suppose, but I also wish her luck with finding a job afterwards. I’ve had enough trouble explaining my undergraduate thesis in ‘Caledonian antisyzygy’ to potential employers, so I’m not sure that husband-finding is going to the most profitable specialty subject - even professional matchmakers are having to tighten their belts these days - unless, of course, the husband in question is loaded.