When Sophie Rose Jenkins announced she would not return to St Andrews University this academic year because of her experiences of classism on campus, she did not expect much of a response. But in the two weeks since she published her story on LinkedIn, it has resonated with hundreds of others.
“Working-class students have been made to feel ashamed of their home life at university,” the former comparative literature and classical studies student wrote in a lengthy post. “Arriving at a university ranked first in the UK at the time from a background like mine, I thought I was doing everything right.
“I don’t mean for this to be a sob story but an explanation. I recognise the privilege of access to higher education, however I am also brutally aware of the hidden privilege of having unobstructed access to studying for a degree. There is a deep gap between the two, and it is never addressed.”
For many responding, her comments touched on a growing tension at St Andrews, driven by the funding model of Scotland’s cash-strapped universities. Places for Scottish students, who study for free, are capped by the Scottish government and account for about 30% of students at St Andrews. Maintenance loans and bursaries cover basic costs, but those from lower-income families are still often left with less disposable income than their contemporaries – including wealthy international students who pay much higher fees.
St Andrews, ranked second in the Guardian’s university league table for 2026, accepts one of the highest percentages in the UK of privately educated students. The British aristocracy has long adored the medieval town’s cobbled streets, wind-swept beach and grand stone buildings: Prince William and the Princess of Wales met there.
But the recent influx of wealthy US students has changed the dynamic on campus, students say. Americans account for around a fifth of undergraduates at St Andrews, the highest proportion in the UK, with each paying £33,250 for this academic year, more than three times what British students pay.
“My parents were worried about me coming here. They didn’t want me to be left out,” said one Scottish fresher who is on a scholarship to study classics. “Most of the people I have met are international students. I didn’t grow up with tons of money. Maybe they can be a bit ignorant to the cost of things.”
Another said: “There’s a Pret here. You have to ask yourself why that is in such a small town.”
Aspects of fraternity and sorority culture have started to blend with the upper-class experience of British university, some students say. Regular black-tie dinners and balls are now rivalled by fashion shows and exclusive societies. A short walk from the student union bar, an interior design shop advertises luxury bed linen for students, while a popular coffee shop sells designer clothes and candles alongside speciality matchas.
“I totally see her [Jenkins’s] perspective,” said one privately educated student from Edinburgh, who was returning from hockey practice with friends. “It can be quite segregated: the English hang out with the English, the Americans with the Americans. We knew lots of people from hockey already so it’s easy to feel left out if you’re not from that environment.
“The American culture is coming in and it massively influences everything at the moment. They compete with each other. If you look at how they dress, people arrive in lectures as if they are going on a night out.”
One student referenced a well-known student newspaper article published last year about how St Andrews had turned into the Scottish Upper East Side, which said: “Our beloved Scottish town is day by day turning into a microcosm of Manhattan’s elite world; complete with intrigue, privilege, and secrets that spread like wildfire.”
Underlining the point, an American student walks past the student union loudly explaining to a friend: “Everyone is going to think you’re rich if you have a Ralph Lauren bag. But that doesn’t make you rich.”
St Andrews said it had reached out to Jenkins to better understand her experience, but she had decided not to engage for now. It said it had a robust system for reporting complaints from students, and only a handful of complaints had been made in the last five years.
“Yes, some students do arrive here in St Andrews, and at every other university, with immature, offensive and classist views. But they tend not to leave with them,” said the vice-principal Niall Scott.
“This isn’t a St Andrews issue – it’s a societal issue. Classism begins in the home or at school, not at university. Universities like St Andrews have a crucial role to play in challenging these attitudes by bringing together people from different backgrounds, cultures and perspectives, encouraging understanding, respect and inclusion.”
The debate around classism at Scottish universities is not new. In 2024, Edinburgh University offered guidance on how students should treat one another after rising claims of discrimination and classism. “Don’t be a snob!” read the advice given out to students. At St Andrews, some students said the issue of classism was not only linked to the rise in American students.
“It is generally an attitude thing. There is an idea that working-class students can’t speak about issues that are going on elsewhere in the world because they are not as well travelled,” said one science student. “At St Andrews, even for moderately wealthy people, it feels like there is an old money level above that you don’t even get to speak to.”
Rasmus, a Danish student, said he was bemused by the social dynamics at the university.
“It took two weeks for me to meet a Scottish person. They are surrounded by people here who have the money for international tuition, which is quite narrow. I can imagine that being quite a difficult experience,” he said.
