The 21 Group runs an occasional series on the fictional doings of the Masters of the Colleges. Readers may remember the controversial election of Kerris Bowles-Ottery as Master at St Judas, as well as a spot of bother for Wendell Lacksworth over at Slaughterhouse College.

Now comes news of the slippery behaviour of Lord Glossover running St Machiavelli’s College. Of course, this is just a story. No real Master of a real College — when presented with evidence of wrongdoing — would behave like this.

Lord Glossover, the Master of St Machiavelli’s College, sat in his oak-panelled study, staring at a decanter of port as though it had passed its Finals with high honours. The portraits of dead Masters glowered down with disdain.

He had settled into the agreeable business of congratulating himself for sitting on University Council — an achievement which reminded him of the old days only a few inches short of the Cabinet Office.

There was a knock at the door. It opened to reveal the Postgraduate Student.

The Master grimaced, as if seeing a questionable Stilton. He remembered he had agreed to a meeting with this pest.

The Postgraduate Student began, “I need to report something very serious. There’s evidence of bullying and research misconduct …”

The Master raised a hand and interrupted, oozing what he believed to be benevolent authority. “I am on the University Council. I know precisely what goes on in this institution. Far more, I should say, than you could possibly imagine.”

The Postgraduate Student pressed on, colour rising to his cheeks, “What has happened is hugely dishonest. This could damage the reputation of the whole university. Please take a look at my evidence”

“Reputation!” The Master gave a brittle laugh that rattled round the bookshelves. “Reputation is built on centuries of tradition, not on the whinings of a Postgraduate Student with an excess of conscience. We are in the business of excellence … not truth nor decency.”

“Let me show you the evidence, the problems go right to the top of the School and beyond”, said the Postgraduate Student.

The Master refilled his glass. He spoke sharply: “ I’m sorry I can’t help you if you want to talk about bullying or misconduct or if you want to besmirch the name of University Officers. Just because you have caught something nasty, why do you have to wander about breathing over everybody? Now if you’ll excuse me, the Council papers require my immediate attention. Matters of governance, strategy, vision and the big, broad, flexible outlook … ”

The Postgraduate Student stood for a moment, before gathering his papers and turning towards the door.

“Master” he said quietly, “you may sit on as many Councils as you like. But you’ve no idea as to what is actually happening beneath your nose in this institution.”

The Master gave a smile of condescending indulgence, already half-dreaming of bon mots to share with his media friends at the BBC and The Guardian. Perhaps, perhaps there might be an opportunity to present Bake Off next series?

“Nonsense. I am on Council. I know everything.”

The 21 Group emphasises that this is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, whether living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.

One of the inspirations for the TV series ‘Yes Minster’ was the classic book on Cambridge academic politics, Microcosmographia Academia , by Francis Cornford.