They’re a busy lot down at the Sheffield Activist Network (SAN).
After voicing their complaints among scores of protesters at the Labour Party conference, they could well have wallowed in a job well done after The Sun urged the masses to ditch Brown days later.
But SAN, who recruited budding student activists at last month’s Activities Fair, were plotting again this Monday when they met at the Sheffield Squatted Social Centre to discuss opposition to the Uni’s new registrar Philip Harvey.
But instead of demoing outside Firth Court on Wednesday, the activists found themselves in court after the University got an injunction to have them removed from the building on Pisgah House Road.
So the squatters amicably packed up their manky mattresses on Tuesday night and rolled into their 10.30am hearing at Sheffield County Court. While for their part, the University showed no sign of removing them by force.
It was a mini-clash between anti-capitalists and the University which was threatening, remarkably, to end without controversy.
That was until a visibly shocked judge read out a request for legal fees totalling over £20,000. It was an end to a short-lived saga which left neither side covered in glory.
For all their efforts, the squatters occupied the building for less than a week in a project that smacked of doing something because it was slightly more interesting than watching Homes Under the Hammer.
When I visited, there were two people involved in a useful workshop on bike repairs. Elsewhere though, the squat was a bundle of inactivity.
Particularly so in the ineptly and inaptly named “kid’s zone”, which boasted no children and one piano. The haphazard crèche certainly didn’t strike me as an ideal childminding venue, especially with a pig mask hung up in the hallway.
My guide told me the room could do with a lick of paint. Presumably he was thinking bright yellow to make it more child-friendly, but if he did have a change of heart a smattering of black would’ve made it instantly suitable for an exorcist.
As we moved towards the stairs it was kindly suggested, minutes before their “public” SAN meeting was about to begin, that press people might not be so welcome.
This despite an inclusive “open door” policy which was paradoxically implemented with the aid of 20 locks and bolts on the front door.
I left the squat bemused. My burning question was: “What’s the point?” And the answer seemed to be: “There isn’t one, really.”
And I was left even further puzzled by the fact that such a sensitive meeting ultimately yielded no action against Harvey.
The squatting scheme was launched without the brazen antics to which the SAN has become somewhat synonymous.
But, apparently, that’s because it’s wasn’t the SAN who were behind the squatted centre. Oh no. You see, the centre had a non-hierarchical structure, so nobody was behind it.
Overall, I found it an underwhelming and un-inspiring project; especially when you consider the SAN’s track record.
Whether or not you agree with the activists’ agenda, their ability to communicate their point effectively can’t be questioned. Their occupation of the Hicks lecture theatre was the talk of the Union earlier this year.
But activism is a culture which attracts a mixture of incredibly driven and incredibly undecided individuals in unequal measure.
Though rather unfairly, it is the strong-willed and opinionated charges are met with most mockery over a frothy coffee.
For me, the passionate protester resonates much more powerfully than the indecisive passenger, of whom there are so many.
I suspect it was those passengers who sat twiddling their thumbs in the squat over the past week rather than hatching a plan to unsettle our new registrar.