Mr Blottisham entered the Senior Common Room carrying no laptop at all.
Professor Quillibrace looked pleasantly surprised.
"My dear Blottisham."
"Professor."
"You appear unencumbered."
"I've left the machine in my office."
"A wise precaution?"
"I thought it deserved a rest."
Miss Stray smiled.
"From answering questions?"
"No."
"From mine."
Quillibrace poured the tea.
"I trust it survived."
"Barely."
Blottisham accepted his cup.
"I've been wondering."
The Professor nodded.
"A habit which is becoming alarmingly frequent."
"What exactly is a university?"
The room became unexpectedly quiet.
Miss Stray looked at Quillibrace.
"I don't believe anyone has ever asked that question in this room."
"They usually ask where the committee meeting is."
Blottisham looked puzzled.
"Isn't it simply a place where knowledge is kept?"
Quillibrace considered.
"If it were..."
"Yes?"
"...then a library would be sufficient."
"And it isn't?"
"I've never met a library that argued with me."
Miss Stray laughed.
"Some catalogues come remarkably close."
Blottisham thought for a moment.
"Then perhaps it's where knowledge is created."
"A research laboratory creates knowledge."
"And that's different?"
"It may be."
Blottisham looked mildly discouraged.
"I seem to be eliminating universities one function at a time."
"An honourable tradition."
Miss Stray stirred her tea.
"I wonder whether a university is less a place than a way of behaving."
Both men looked at her.
"Go on."
"It gathers people who care more about improving ideas than defending them."
Blottisham nodded slowly.
"I like that."
Quillibrace smiled.
"So do I."
A comfortable silence followed.
Eventually Blottisham asked,
"If that's true..."
"Yes?"
"...could artificial intelligence become part of a university?"
Quillibrace did not answer immediately.
Instead he asked,
"What role would you give it?"
"I don't know."
"Would it replace the students?"
"No."
"The lecturers?"
"I hope not."
"The librarians?"
"Certainly not."
Miss Stray looked amused.
"You seem remarkably determined that everyone should keep their jobs."
"I've grown rather fond of universities."
"So have I."
Quillibrace leaned back.
"What have you actually been doing with the machine these past few weeks?"
Blottisham smiled.
"We've been arguing."
"Indeed."
"It keeps asking me to reconsider things."
"Does it?"
"Well..."
He hesitated.
"It doesn't exactly ask."
"No."
"But somehow I end up reconsidering them anyway."
Miss Stray nodded.
"Rather like a good seminar."
Blottisham looked pleased.
"That's exactly what it feels like."
The Professor looked thoughtfully into his teacup.
"Perhaps we've been imagining knowledge in rather static terms."
"How do you mean?"
"We speak of possessing knowledge."
"Don't we?"
"Sometimes."
"And the rest of the time?"
"We participate in it."
Blottisham frowned.
"I don't quite follow."
Miss Stray looked towards the window.
"When you first arrived here..."
"Yes?"
"...did you know what you think now?"
"Certainly not."
"What changed?"
"I read a great many books."
"And?"
"I attended lectures."
"And?"
"I had conversations."
She smiled.
"Which of those changed you most?"
Blottisham was silent for a while.
Finally he said,
"I don't think I can separate them."
Quillibrace nodded.
"Nor should you."
"The books gave you voices."
"The lectures gave you structure."
"The conversations made the ideas your own."
The afternoon sun slipped quietly across the old carpet.
Blottisham spoke again.
"So perhaps knowledge isn't something that sits on a shelf."
"No."
"Nor something that sits inside a machine."
"No."
"Then where is it?"
Quillibrace smiled.
"That is a remarkably good question."
Miss Stray answered before he could.
"Perhaps it exists..."
She paused.
"...whenever understanding is still capable of changing."
Nobody spoke.
After a long silence Blottisham looked almost embarrassed.
"If that's true..."
"Yes?"
"...then a university isn't really a collection of buildings."
"No."
"It's a community that refuses to let its ideas become finished."
Quillibrace slowly raised his cup.
"My dear Blottisham..."
"Yes?"
"I believe St Anselm himself would have approved of that."
Blottisham smiled.
"I've another question."
"Oh?"
"If AI can become part of that conversation..."
"Yes?"
"...does that make it a member of the university?"
Miss Stray laughed softly.
"I think you've asked tomorrow's question."
Quillibrace stood and walked towards the window.
Students crossed the quadrangle in every direction.
Some carried books.
Some carried laptops.
Some carried nothing at all.
All of them, he suspected, were carrying questions.
Without turning round he said quietly,
"My dear friends..."
"Yes, Professor?"
"A university has never been distinguished by the brilliance of its answers."
"No?"
"It is distinguished by the quality of the conversations it refuses to abandon."
No one added anything further.
There seemed very little to improve upon.
Outside, the college bell marked the end of another afternoon.
Inside, three cups of tea stood empty upon the table.
The conversation, however, showed no sign of concluding.
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