Universities are run by the middle-class for the middle-class. It's adifferent world for the few working-class students who gain entry, writes Anthony O'Halloran.
Recent data on university entrants, made public in The Irish Times, came as no surprise to those who are familiar with the Irish university system.
In particular, it is hardly shocking to discover that students from private, fee-paying secondary schools enjoy a privileged position.
However, the data must be analysed with reference to broader societal and political patterns.
When you consider what lies at the heart of this most recent data, the answer is very simple: Ireland remains a class-specific society.
A person's social class heavily influences their life chances.
The poor are unlikely to get speedy access to healthcare.
Elites who commit wrongdoing rarely go to prison. Prison places are apparently a privilege reserved for citizens from marginalised communities.
Poverty is not a middle-class phenomenon. Employment opportunities are likewise heavily influenced by an individual's social class position.
Educational participation rates will obviously reflect these broader societal patterns. From the moment an infant enters primary school, social class will be a major factor. For the most deprived students, a form of social pre-destination exists.
The concept of real choice is a fiction for such students.
The reality clear. Students from a disadvantaged background are de facto discriminated against within the Irish educational system.
By the time students sit Leaving Certificate exams, the discrimination is deeply entrenched.
However, the university sector cannot absolve itself of responsibility.
Broadly speaking, universities have been run by the middle-class for the middle-class. The culture is a professional middle-class one.
In general, this culture cannot relate in any meaningful way to the everyday life experiences of the poor and marginalised.
The reality of not having enough money to put food on the table is a totally alien experience to established academics.
Senior academics in particular live in a different world to that of the very occasional working-class student who gains university entry.
I was the first member of my family to attend university. Raised in a local authority estate, I am one of the very few from my estate to attend university.
During my eight years as a third-level student, I was deeply struck at how insulated senior academic and management staff were from the everyday living experiences of students who were not raised in middle-class suburbia.
Only on rare occasions did I observe a real sense of empathy.
I recall one particular lecturer actually believed it was possible to live on a county council maintenance grant.
On another occasion, while walking through the grounds of UCG, I had a chance encounter with the cleaning lady of the hostel where I then lived. She had obviously been deprived of educational opportunity.
I recall her words: "You are lucky to have the chance to study here - the nearest I will ever get to this place is walking through the grounds on the way to work."
One of the greatest challenges for Irish universities is to change this culture. Ultimately, the culture will change when universities cease to be bastions of middle-class privilege.
To be fair, great efforts are been made in recent years.
I applaud in particular the excellent work of access officers. Working at the coalface of disadvantage, they witness the grim reality of disempowerment and disadvantage every day. Against the funding odds, many imaginative programmes have been put in place. Similarly, second-chance education is becoming firmly established.
Of course, the efforts of individual staff members with a genuine commitment to social justice must also be acknowledged. These, and other efforts, should not be undervalued.
However, I have at least two remaining concerns.
Firstly, I have yet to be convinced that the senior elites within the universities are genuinely committed, beyond a rhetorical level, to equality of opportunity.
Secondly, if a business culture continues to colonise universities, this will be to the detriment of disadvantaged students because business puts profit first and equality second.
Political factors cannot be ignored. Even within the constraints of globalised economics, politicians possess a range of choices.
Class discrimination does not have to be a fact of the Irish educational system.
To eliminate class discrimination, political nettles must be grasped. Wealth redistribution ought to be put firmly back on the political agenda. At the very root of class discrimination is the unequal allocation of wealth and resources.
Politicians of the left have a particular responsibility to face this reality head on.
In this respect, it is time to declare the intellectual and moral bankruptcy of third-way politics. The myth that we live in a classless society is designed to serve the interests of the wealthy and powerful.
Social class does matter. Its importance can no longer be ignored by politicians.
Until such time as the class-specific nature of Irish society is tackled, educational choice will remain the preserve of the well-off.
For the less well-off, equality and choice will remain a fictitious concept.
Anthony O'Halloran has recently returned from the United States, where he was a visiting Fulbright fellow at the department of political science at Southern Illinois University. He is a research fellow with the department of government, University College Cork.