They are around 20, gathered outside 50 George Square — the School of Literature, Languages and Cultures (LLC). The picket line is formed by a circle of colleagues greeting each other and newcomers joining with a smile. Only a closer inspection would reveal the weariness etched on every face, on the first of this five weeks of industrial action.
On the floor, a word is being written repeatedly with a chalk stick: Strike. Streik. Stailc. Grève. A reflection of the linguistic richness the University of Edinburgh has long taken pride in, and which a poster on the wall points out: “Languages without limit! One of the widest ranges of any UK University.” This forms a stark contrast with the ongoing cuts, in response to the University’s “financial crisis.” Out of 90 degrees closing to new applicants in 2027, 48 are in LLC. Seven in Celtic and Scottish Literature alone.
Of course, the university senior management has so far guaranteed that it won’t close any department. But through hidden redundancies, posts are slowly becoming scarcer; they have already led to the departure of 800 employees since January 2025. This can come in the form of guaranteed hours contracts, for tutors notably, not being renewed from one year to another. In the case that someone retires, or is invited to through voluntary redundancy, their post may not be filled. A current professor of Celtic Studies, once a student in Celtic and Scottish History at this very same university, gauges how much has changed in 15 years: “I did my PhD here. I had the wonderful opportunity to teach. Now, this is no longer available to students.”
As a result of these cuts, the workload keeps multiplying. The same professor recounts that since the Celtic department secretary left, he has had to handle website communication, events, and visits to secondary schools by himself. All unpaid, of course. Not to mention the astronomical numbers of essays – between 100 and 200 – course convenors are now supposed to mark alone. “They know we love our job and they count on it, but one day we may crack.”
One Gaelic teacher’s commitment to his role is evident in his offer to students of a guided tour within the National Museum of Scotland. Students followed him and his colleague through the story of the Picts, who left behind mysterious stones carved with horsemen, beasts, and crescents. Perhaps it was there, watching him joke about which stone he would take in case of fire, that I felt what laid behind his commitment. “Of course, we’re striking so that we can keep paying our bills. But we’ve also spent a career, a lifetime, studying these cultures. I believe they matter, and that I’m also fighting to not let these traditions of the past fade away.”
Hence, many students are pushing back against the narrative that strikes are “deliberately targeting students’ first semester.” As one third-year student states in response, “learning conditions are getting worse each year.”
Even though current students of courses set to close will be able to finish their studies, the possibility of an academic career in future is at stake. For one second-year Celtic Studies student, what has been “a lifelong dream” – pursuing Gaelic research at such a prestigious university – could collapse. “That’s why we have no choice. If not Edinburgh, capital of Scotland […] where?” It is indeed the future of the discipline, and the perennity of a culture, that is challenged. This is especially pertinent, as the Universities of Dundee, Aberdeen, and Glasgow are also facing major cuts, with Aberdeen planning to axe its Celtic department.
That being said, the cuts affecting the Celtic studies are one act in a much broader restructuring of the university, with 1,800 jobs at threat. While the College of Science and Engineering (CSE) and the College of Medicine and Veterinary Medicine (CMVM) have so far been spared, according to a Geosciences professor, cuts will soon follow, likely next year. As for professional services staff, they face the threat of redundancy more than ever. The centralisation of services and the growing use of chatbots have taken a heavy toll on them. The International Services team, which has 29 employees, is already set to be halved.
In the words of one Human Geography lecturer: “What is so frustrating is that the university has the money, and therefore it’s a choice to not prioritize diversity.” The financial crisis is indeed called into question by the latest available figures: in 2024-2025, the university recorded a financial surplus.
One image stays with me: one of many voluntarily organised teach-outs. Two professors stood at the entrance of Old College, surrounded by some thirty people: students, colleagues, perhaps the merely curious. They have come to talk about the subject that has filled much of their lives and research. Their voices are barely audible, drowned out by the street: lorries, buses, voices. Yet not one soul, in the audience, would dare to go away. They listen, eyes gleaming, to whatever cryptic lines these two men have come to tell. Clearly, there is more to the impact of the Celtic Studies department than just the numbers.
Photo by Max Brown for The Student.
