
Edinburgh University’s recently published Decolonised Transformations: Confronting the University of Edinburgh’s History and Legacies of Enslavement and Colonialism (henceforward, the Review) is an examination of racist and colonialist beliefs and attitudes at the university from the eighteenth century to the present. It purportedly exposes racist practices over the course of three centuries and claims that, though the form racism takes has changed, Edinburgh University continues to heavily discriminate against black people, especially black students and scholars. Edinburgh is among the world’s top research universities, yet the Review implies that racism remains as venomous as ever, and that support for colonialism is alive and well there. In the past, write the authors, the university was “a haven for professors and alumni who developed theories of racial inferiority”—indeed, they claim, it still is.
The bout of paranoia about racism at Edinburgh University that led to the commissioning of the Review dates back to 2020. In September of that year, students drew attention to a footnote that the philosopher David Hume added to the 1753–54 edition of his essay “Of National Characters.” In the note, Hume writes:
I am apt to suspect the negroes to be naturally inferior to the whites. There scarcely ever was a civilized nation of that complexion, nor even any individual eminent either in action or speculation. No ingenious manufactures amongst them, no arts, no sciences. On the other hand, the most rude and barbarous of the whites, such as the ancient Germans, the present Tartars, have still something eminent about them, in their valour, form of government, or some other particular. Such a uniform and constant difference could not happen, in so many countries and ages, if nature had not made an original distinction between these breeds of men. Not to mention our colonies, there are Negroe slaves dispersed all over Europe, of whom none ever discovered any symptoms of ingenuity; though low people, without education, will start up amongst us, and distinguish themselves in every profession. In Jamaica, indeed, they talk of one negroe as a man of parts and learning; but it is likely he is admired for slender accomplishments, like a parrot, who speaks a few words plainly.
Hume was expressing a common sentiment of the time, although it was not one that was universally shared, even by his own contemporaries. James Beattie provides a thoroughgoing rebuttal of this passage in his 1770 book, An Essay on the Nature and Immutability of Truth:
That a negroe-slave, who can neither read nor write, nor speak any European language, who is not permitted to do any thing but what his master commands, and who has not a single friend on earth, but is universally considered and treated as if he were of a species inferior to the human;—that such a creature should so distinguish himself among Europeans, as to be talked of through the world for a man of genius, is surely no reasonable expectation.
As a result of the footnote becoming generally known, a section of the student body demanded that the university’s David Hume Tower be renamed. The Vice Chancellor, Sir Peter Mathieson, immediately acquiesced, apparently without consulting the faculty but with the support of activists. To add to the horror of the footnote, a PhD student named Felix Waldmann discovered a letter of 1766, in which he believes that Hume encouraged his patron, Lord Hertford, to buy slave-worked plantations in Grenada. Waldmann, by then a Cambridge academic, wrote a commentary in the Scotsman under the headline, “David Hume was a brilliant philosopher, but also a racist involved in slavery.”
Dr David Ashton and Professor Peter Hutton have argued that this is a misrepresentation of Hume. In his letter to Hertford, they write, Hume was simply acting as an intermediary, passing on a message from a mutual acquaintance, rather than making a recommendation. They argue that there is no evidence that Hume supported slavery. In fact, he was committed to the idea that all human beings are equally worthy of rights and freedoms. They write,
Modern definitions of racism have at their core a justification for a disparity in power … but it is precisely this disparity in power to which Hume was implacably opposed. … Hume’s achievements on behalf of humanity—defending ideals of tolerance, humanity, justice, culture, and liberty—have been of incalculable influence.
Ten academics, including the celebrated Scottish historian and former Fraser Chair of Scottish History at Edinburgh University Sir Tom Devine, signed an open letter opposing the renaming. They argue that although the philosopher held views now regarded as racist, “the point is, these views are not the reason the tower is named after him. It is in recognition of his enduring influence in philosophy, history and political economy.” They suggested a compromise: a plaque could be mounted on the tower, acknowledging Hume’s racism.
However, the Vice Chancellor did not reverse his position: Hume’s name no longer adorns the Tower. It is now plain 40 George Square—though his statue still stands on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile, next to the Law Library in which he once worked.
In an article for the Spectator, Devine says he spoke to several Edinburgh University academics who disagreed with the decision, although “not one was willing to risk being named for fear of a backlash from students.” These scholars told him that “the university authorities are too fearful of challenging some student activists who now seem beyond control”; that “Many [academics] now feel constrained in what they can say for fear of ‘offending’ … and so triggering online abuse”; and that many feel “threatened and intimidated.” In a June 2021 interview with me, Devine criticised Vice Chancellor Mathieson for being too willing to accommodate student demands to punish anyone whose comments were deemed “hurtful” for whatever reason.
It is against this backdrop that in June of 2025, the university finally published the Review on racism and colonialism at Edinburgh. Vice Chancellor Mathieson hailed it as
a significant moment in this ancient institution’s willingness and determination to learn from and repair its past, as well as its present, in order to shape its future [through] an academically-led examination of the University’s historic links to slavery and racism... [which] has brought to light important, confronting and often uncomfortable accounts of our historical ties to slavery and colonialism, the legacy of racist teachings and ideologies, and current challenges we face around race and inclusion.
More than twenty scholars and activists contributed to the Review, which took over four years to compile.
There has been pushback against the Review. Jonathan Hearn, who holds a Personal Chair of Political and Historical Sociology and was a signatory to the open letter mentioned above, has commented in the Spectator on some of the Review’s stranger aspects. As he points out, the main decrease in the ethnicities of students and scholars over the time period reviewed was among whites, while the number of Asians increased and that of “Blacks and others” was more or less stable, at seven percent of staff and ten percent for students. (This is relatively high, given that according to the most recent census (in 2022) only 1.2 percent of Scotland’s total population consider themselves to be “Black Scottish.”) The Review expresses “concerns” about the fact that the number of black staff and students is not higher, but it provides no evidence of institutional obstacles to black success at Edinburgh. It bases its impressions on questionnaires drawn from, as Hearn points out, “very small, self-selected samples lacking any statistical reliability.”
The Review claims that historically Edinburgh University played “an outsized role” in producing ideologies of racism and was a “haven” for racists. Yet no evidence is provided to back up these assertions. A former Rector of the University, the journalist Iain McWhirter, has dismissed the Review as “silly”—noting that, in fact, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Edinburgh was a hotbed of abolitionist fervour. McWhirter acerbically comments that
this exercise in racial defamation looks like another own goal by Edinburgh Principal Peter Mathieson, who was responsible for the David Hume debacle. He has promised scholarships for ‘minority groups’ as reparation. Perhaps this should come from his own salary of £422,000, which is nearly two and a half times that of the First Minister of Scotland.
Meanwhile, Edinburgh, like other universities, is struggling with an ever-larger debt: a spending cut of £140m has recently been announced, of which £90m will come from reductions in staffing. It is unclear how far the Review’s proposed measures will be affected by the current belt-tightening.
The Review was chaired by Nicola Frith and Tommy Curry. Frith was a Chancellor’s Fellow, and now lectures in languages, literature, and culture. Her biography states that “her work is dedicated to understanding the structural legacies of slavery and colonialism, the continuity of coloniality and in seeking reparatory justice solutions.” Professor Tommy Curry is a philosopher who specialises in African philosophy and Black Male Studies and whose views on violence against white people are highly controversial. Curry sees the Enlightenment embrace of equality and personal freedom as largely a cover for white supremacy. He believes that the “erasure of black males’ experience from theory, and the violence and death black males suffer in society... (coerces) black males into silence.”
Other authors include Dr Simon Buck, a research fellow whose work focuses on Edinburgh University’s Historical Links to African Enslavement and Colonialism, 2022–2024; Dr Nicola Perugini, a senior lecturer in international relations, whose research focuses on violence, race and colonialism; and Assistant Professor Shaira Vadasaria, a sociologist by training and a lecturer in race and colonial studies.
One figure who comes in for especially sharp criticism in the Review is Arthur James Balfour, Chancellor of the University from 1891 to 1930 (the year of his death), an unusually long period in office. Balfour also served in Parliament (1874–1911) and as Chief Secretary for Ireland (1887–91). From 1891, he was the Conservative Party’s leader in Parliament, after which he succeeded his uncle as prime minister (1902–05). He helped form the Entente Cordiale (1904): agreements signed between France and the UK, which greatly improved their often testy relations.
Perugini sees in Balfour—and through him, the university—someone who used his position to bolster the British Empire and affirm the superiority of the white race, as when he chaired the first Allied Colonial University Conference in 1903, which Perugini describes as “a crucial tool for cementing Britain’s global dominance” and “a key instrument for affirming a sense of a racialised Anglo-Saxon unity.” Yet nothing in the Review suggests that Edinburgh University itself was mobilised in support of “affirming a sense of a racialised Anglo-Saxon unity.”
More importantly for the authors of the Review, Balfour’s reputation is tainted by his association with the “establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people.” Yet, however unpalatable Balfour’s political views may be to these decolonial and anti-Zionist scholars, Balfour’s role as Chancellor was a largely formal one and he had little influence over the doings of university staff or the direction of the university.
The Review also presses the university to drop its adoption of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition of antisemitism—adopted by the Alliance in 2016 and approved by the university in 2020—which states that
Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward them. Rhetorical and physical manifestations of antisemitism are directed toward Jewish or non-Jewish individuals and/or their property, toward Jewish community institutions and religious facilities.
This definition may indeed be too capacious. Some of the examples of antisemitism given by the Alliance could endanger freedom of speech. Yet this is a debate far removed from any examination of racism in the past and present of Edinburgh University. The Review’s treatment of this subject seems to be primarily designed as a vehicle for a more general attack on Israel. It argues against the “agnostic” approach that the university has adopted regarding investments in Israel and in countries and companies that have dealings with Israel. According to the Review’s authors, the university thereby risks “complicity with genocide, crimes against humanity and an illegal occupation.” No consideration whatever is given to the idea that there might be two sides to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It is depicted as a simple case of good vs evil.
Other Edinburgh alumni beyond Balfour are also singled out for accusations of racism. Some of these seem justified. Robert Knox (1791–1862), a surgeon and teacher of surgery, became dependent on the notorious body-snatchers William Burke and William Hare, who provided him with some of the cadavers he used to enliven his popular lectures. In his 1850 book, Races of Men he describes a supposedly “vast gulf” separating the white and black races. A black man, he writes, is no more similar to a white man “than an ass is a horse or a zebra.” He called for the ethnic cleansing of the Irish; and he declared, “Can the black races become civilised? I should say not; their future history, then must resemble the past. The Saxon race will never tolerate them—never amalgamate—never be at peace.” But far from being influential at the university, Knox was shunned by many mainstream commentators of his day. As historian Efram Sera-Shriar has written, “he was an outlier in the scientific and medical community.”
Another figure whom the Review accuses of racism—with a lot less justification—is James Cowles Prichard (1786–1848). Prichard, who graduated from Edinburgh University in 1802, came from a Quaker family who likely supported abolition. Prichard believed in monogenesis—the single origin of all men—rightly hypothesising that the human race developed from an apelike common ancestor in Africa. In his Natural History of Man (1843), he points out that the same inward nature can be recognised in men of all races. He was an early member of the Aborigines Protection Society, founded in 1837: its motto was “Ab Uno Sanguine” (Of One Blood) and it campaigned for equal rights for the Aboriginal peoples of Australia, Canada, South Africa, and the Congo.
For the Review, Prichard is simply one of the people who “founded some of the ‘sciences of race … built on the supposition of racial and civilisational inequality.” The authors summarise a passage from his Physical Researches into the History of Man (1813) as the idea that “dark-skinned peoples would turn white as they became more civilised.” This seems to be a misunderstanding of a passage in which Prichard argues that “we have no example of the characters of the Negro... ever appearing in a race of light complexion.” But he is talking here about different levels of historical development, not postulating some intrinsic difference between people of different skin tones. In fact, Prichard believed that the different races of mankind would come to share a common culture.
Part 6 of the Review is titled REPARATORY JUSTICE RECOMMENDATIONS. It advocates the establishment of a Research and Community Centre for the Study of Racisms, Colonialism and Anti-Black Violence, which it imagines as a “sector-leading Centre (which) will be the foundation for new ways of thinking about and addressing the problems of racism, racial injustice, inequality and violence.”
In this section, the Review indicts the members of Edinburgh’s centuries-old student societies, the Dialectic Society (established in 1787) and the Speculative Society (established in 1764). The Review records that “significant numbers of students in both societies, however, either argued or voted against the ‘immediate’ abolition of slavery in the 1820s and the early 1830s.” They did so in favour of “gradual” abolition, the Review states,
in contexts where such positions served to defang growing demands for immediate emancipation; in favour of the British government providing financial compensation to enslavers following emancipation; and in support of Britain’s formal recognition of the Confederacy during the American Civil War.
Yet Dialectic Society members voted overwhelmingly against the slave trade in 1790s, and in 1792 concluded unanimously that “use of the produce of slavery involve[d] [them] in its guilt” and agreed to abstain from consuming sugar. The Review does not consider why these abolitionists may have thought more gradual emancipation more achievable and practicable.
The Review was much heralded and took several years to compile. It should have contained a variety of views on the highly contested arguments it proposes. Instead, it is an exercise in performative anti-racism—much of it aimed at judging the racism of people who lived more than three centuries ago.
As Hearn writes,
the real underlying argument shaping this report is a moral one. Racial and ethnic groups are conceived as unified and transhistorical. If members of certain groups were privileged or harmed in the past, then this must be continuing into the present. The report implies that people inherit their moral relationships from their ancestors. This is barbaric. It is a moral view characteristic of clan societies and criminal gangs, sunk in endless feuding. In modern liberal legal systems, moral responsibility attaches to individuals, not social categories. The quality of scholarship is poor, and the arguments tendentious. The best response would be to politely ignore it.
But unfortunately the Review cannot be ignored. That a document of such low quality should be produced in all seriousness points to the continuing vigour of a movement that sees in the sins of history a cause for present insistence that our cruelties and prejudices continue to flourish into the present day, with no sign of change. This is an attitude that can only falsify history and obstruct our progress towards the future.
Originally published at Quillette. Visit or subscribe for more quality journalism.


