Article
Creed
Football
Sport
5 min read

Killing joy: VAR's search for objectivity is flawed

Why this Man United fan wishes his team had lost.

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

A TV screen shows a football match with a superimposed diagonal line dividing the pitch.
VAR draws the line.
BBC Sport.

I am a Manchester United fan. But I wish Coventry had won the FA Cup semi-final. 

I have supported United alongside my hometown team, Bristol City, ever since the days of George Best, Bobby Charlton and Denis Law. (Bristol City never win anything so it’s nice to have a team that does win things occasionally – or at least used to). 

In case you’ve had your head under a pillow over the weekend, or just avoid anything football-related on principle, Manchester United won an FA Cup semi-final replay on penalties by the skin of their teeth. 3-0 up and cruising after 70 minutes they somehow capitulated to allow Coventry, a team in the division below, to score three goals in the last 20 minutes. With virtually the last kick of extra time Coventry scored a fourth. Cue scenes of sheer unbridled ecstasy and abandon among the Coventry supporters.

What they experienced at that moment is what every sports fan longs for. Beating your intense rivals or mounting an astonishing comeback, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat - when it happens there is nothing like it. It is what United fans experienced when they beat Liverpool with a last-minute winner in the quarter final, or in the never-to-be-forgotten 1999 Champions League Final when they scored twice in injury time to beat Bayern Munich. Now it was Coventry’s turn. 

But then the VAR (Video Assistant Referee), like a killjoy schoolteacher, telling the kids they should calm down and not get so excited, spoiled the party, by pointing out that in the build-up, a Coventry player’s foot was about three inches in front of the nearest body part of the last Man United defender, and so was offside. The offside rule exists to stop attackers gaining an advantage. Quite how those three inches gave the Coventry player an advantage is beyond me. Before VAR, the rule was that, if the attacker was basically level with the defender, it was deemed to be onside. Let’s face it, it was a perfectly good goal. Coventry should have won. They deserved to. 

This would have been one of the great comebacks in FA Cup history. For a second-tier team to come back from 3-0 down with 20 minutes left against a team of that fame and pedigree to potentially win the game was extraordinary. The sheer joy and ecstasy on the faces of the Coventry fans, incredulous that their team could perform such a feat against the great Manchester United made every fan of every other club just wish something like that would happen to them. 

VAR was introduced to eliminate human error and to bring a more scientific and measurable accuracy to decisions like this. The reality is that it's done nothing of the kind and in fact has made things worse. 

Yet the worst thing of all this is that it denied Coventry fans their moment of ecstasy, a moment they would bask in for the rest of their lives.

It is part of a general fallacy in our culture, that science and objectivity give us all the answers we need. So, we try to reduce the role of human instinct, on the assumption that only what can be measured and exactly delineated is of any value. Hence Boris Johnson's mantra “follow the science” during the COVID pandemic.  

The reality is that ‘following the science’ still leaves a place for human decision. Science doesn't necessarily tell you what to do. During the pandemic it could tell us about the rate of spread of the virus, but it didn't dictate that a lockdown of the severity which we endured was necessarily the right way to deal with it. There was a human choice to be made, balancing the effect on the economy and the potential loss of life with the mental impact upon young people that is now becoming apparent.  

In football, VAR doesn't solve every issue. It can tell whether the ball hit a defender’s hand in the penalty area, but it still requires a subjective judgement by the referee or VAR official. Over the weekend’s semi-finals, it was decided to not award a penalty against Manchester City's Jack Grealish, but to do the opposite for Manchester United's Aaron Wan-Bissaka, for virtually identical actions. VAR has not taken refereeing decisions out of the equation. It hasn’t made it any better.  

Yet the worst thing of all this is that it denied Coventry fans their moment of ecstasy, a moment they would bask in for the rest of their lives. It was the kind of moment for which football fans live – the experience that makes the years of watching 1-0 defeats away from home, trudging around the country following your team, worthwhile. A moment that, even as a Man United fan, I would not want to deny them. Of course I'll support United in the final against the robotically efficient Manchester City, but in that moment, VAR destroyed joy. And if that joy is caused by a marginal human error, who cares? Better to have the possibility of joy than a world where it gets taken away by a spoilsport official in a darkened room watching screens and drawing fine lines across the pitch. 

Thinking that we can rely on the seen and not the unseen is fundamentally flawed.

Blaise Pascal once famously wrote that “The heart has its reasons of which Reason knows nothing.” His point was that we have a deep instinct for things which we just know are right, that we cannot prove and just have to assume, and the attempt to reduce everything to rationality, to scientific explanation, to what can be measured, thinking that we can rely on the seen and not the unseen is fundamentally flawed. Ever since the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century we have lived with this dream of a perfectly scientific world where everything can be reduced to numbers, mechanisms and measurements. In such a world there is no room for God, no room for miracles. It even conspired to rule out the joy of Coventry fans celebrating a wildly unlikely winner.  

It tries to delude us that it takes subjective human or moral judgement out of the equation. but it can never do that. And in doing that, it sucks the joy out of life.  Science is a great gift, and it can tell us a lot about our world. But it cannot tell us everything. It was never meant to bear such weight and the sooner we realise that it has its limits, and doesn't overstep its boundaries, the better.

Interview
Belief
Creed
Leading
S&U interviews
9 min read

The quantum of leadership: how to flourish in science

Resolving the big questions - a conversation with Andrew Briggs, quantum technology pioneer.
A professor stands next to experimental equipment.
Andrew Briggs beside quantum research equipment.

Professor Andrew Briggs has been at the forefront of quantum technology for decades, pioneering the use of AI and machine learning in quantum computing. Two technologies that will shape our world. 

Andrew has been a leader in a demanding and cutting-edge academic field. In this interview the Oxford-based academic shares his insights on how to lead scientific endeavours and flourish in life. 

Pawel Puczkarski: We meet on Northmoor Road, which, more than any other street, embodies the spirit of Oxford. 

Michał Łuczewski: I sense here the presence of all souls. 

Andew Briggs: Indeed! The Tolkien family first lived at number 22 before moving next door to number 20. Just opposite, in the garden shed of number 27, is where Sir Martin Wood built the first magnets for what was to become Oxford Instruments. Another neighbour was Sir Roger Bannister, the first man to run a mile in under four minutes. 

MŁ: High culture, big business, top sports. What about science? 

AB: Just across the street, Sir Rudolf Peierls spent his final years. He transformed our understanding of nearly every application of quantum theory, including materials science and nuclear energy. Nearby, Erwin Schrödinger was living at number 12 when he received the news that he had won the Nobel Prize; he later moved to number 24. It was also here that he conceived his famous Schrödinger’s cat thought experiment, which illustrated the fundamental insight of quantum physics—that quantum objects can exist in two states at once. The inspiration for the fictitious cat—both dead and alive—was quite alive. Schrödinger’s own cat was allegedly called Milton 

MŁ: What is your main driver in your manifold leadership roles? 

AB: The desire to contribute. And pure curiosity. I am absolutely fascinated by big questions. 

PP: What’s the biggest question that remains for you unanswered? 

AB:  I suppose it might be, “How can I be more loving?”  

MŁ: That’s a big question, how about big answers? 

AB: One thing I’ve learned over time is the ability to live with unresolved big questions while maintaining the curiosity to understand them better. Take quantum physics. Among scientists, there’s still no agreement on what exactly happens during the act of measuring a quantum system. And measurement is the most basic thing we do in experimental science. So, are we being intellectually irresponsible? Now take prayer. I don’t think there’s consensus among people who pray about what exactly happens when they do. I certainly don’t yet have a fully satisfactory answer. But I long for better understanding. Quantum technologies have too much potential to walk away from the mystery. Likewise, prayer is too important to abandon simply because I don’t fully comprehend it. 

MŁ: What is your own understanding of prayer, then? 

AB: Prayer is about developing a relationship with God, just as conversation is part of building relationships with people. Of course, relationships involve more than conversation. But if you never talk to someone, you’re probably missing out on something. There are many ways to engage God. It is our love for God and our experience of His love. Being kind to people is part of our love relationship with God. 

MŁ: How come such a hard-nosed scientist like you speaks about God so openly? 

PP: It brings to mind a story that stretches across more than a century. In 1874, physicist James Clerk Maxwell founded the Cavendish Laboratory in Cambridge. Carved on its entrance doors, he placed a passage from Psalm 111 in Latin. 

AB: As the first Cavendish Professor, Maxwell personally oversaw every aspect of the lab's creation. He was a man of deep Christian faith.  

PP: Fast forward to 1973—you, as a young research student, proposed to the departmental committee carving the same quote in English above the entrance to the new Cavendish Laboratory: 'The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein'

AB: To the Head of Department’s surprise, the committee not only did not reject my audacious idea, but they enthusiastically supported it.  

MŁ: Another half-century passed… 

AB: And that quote still serves as a motto for the next generation—it suggests that those inside the laboratory are discovering how God makes the world work, and that this pursuit is deeply joyful. Science is a God-given resource for faith and for the work of the Church. If the Church is here to serve the world, it must engage with the world as it is. For example, during the pandemic, scientific knowledge was essential in caring for people at risk. Conversely, faith offers wisdom and a voice in public discourse. 

MŁ: What does leadership personally mean for you? 

AB: Leadership, whatever its tools or styles, is ultimately about choosing what values to lead with. You can exercise leadership in many areas. Each of us does it in our own way, within our sphere of influence, using our unique talents. I'm distinguishing between the tools of leadership—whether oratory, intellect, money, or whatever—and the deeper question of which direction you want to lead. The real question is: What kind of leadership will you exercise? 

MŁ: Is that where my responsibility lies? 

AB: Yes, and to implement that responsibility using whatever talents and opportunities we have. If you're a professor at Oxford, you have to excel in your field. But Oxford is full of opportunities beyond academia, and I feel both a responsibility and a pleasure in engaging with the wider implications of my work. 

PP: You were deeply involved in the rapid development of quantum technologies and quantum information processing, within the evolving landscape of Oxford itself. We're no longer solely a research university. There's been a growing emphasis on scientific entrepreneurship and spinning out companies. 

AB: You're absolutely right–it's been a significant cultural shift at the university. In 2021, in my lab we realized that many people wanted to use our techniques, but we had reached the limit of our capacity to help others from our own resources. As academics, we love collaborating and helping, but we hadn’t even begun to meet the commercial need. So, we worked with Said Business School to conduct market research, which confirmed there was a viable market. That’s when we spun out the company, QuantrolOx. 

MŁ: In his recent book From Strength to Strength, Arthur Brooks argues that our careers will end much sooner than we expect and asks how we should prepare for that. It seems you’ve figured that out. You seem to go from strength to strength

AB: Arthur is a valued friend. He spoke at the U.S. launch of the Human Flourishing book in Harvard. And was kind enough to host the U.S. launch of Penultimate Curiosity, the book I co-authored with the eminent artist, Roger Wagner.  

PP: I see his painting behind us. 

AB: Yes, Roger used to have his studio in this house. As you might have noticed, Arthur has been lately placing more and more emphasis on the role of faith for human happiness. 

MŁ: Through his works, Brooks has been undergoing a kind of spiritual conversion. He makes it clear now that the goal of life is happiness and human flourishing, which starts with meaningful work, friends, family and most importantly - faith. For him personally means renewing his Catholic faith daily, moment by moment

AB: And he’s been speaking about that in a way that is completely genuine and comes from the heart. 

MŁ: I think there’s a similar kind of scholarly conversion in your life, where Christian renewal meets the Greek ideal of kalokagathia—the unity of the transcendentals, also reflected in your books. Penultimate Curiosity explores beauty. It Keeps Me Seeking explores truth. Citizenship in a Networked Age explores justice. And beauty, truth, and justice find their unity in your last book: Human Flourishing. How do you see your life? 

AB: I want to keep contributing for as long as I have the energy and the wherewithal. But life is nonlinear and stochastic. 

MŁ: Professor, pray elaborate! 

AB: We make choices and we are subject to events each of which could have been otherwise, and the consequences are often out of all proportion to the causal factors. Randomness is fundamental in quantum theory where the uncertainty is very mathematically rigorously described. I sometimes wonder if today’s rising generation struggles with stress because they expect too much control over their own destiny. 

MŁ: No doubt. 

AB: And that’s where Providence comes in. What traditional spiritual English calls Providence—from the same root as to provide—is, I believe, essential to making sense of a world that is both stochastic and nonlinear. This confidence in Providence, in the idea that we can navigate a world that is chaotic and still thrive, is profoundly important. If you look at the Gospels, when Jesus called people to follow him, they took a risk. They could have been wrong, following someone who was a spoof, but they made a decision—and it turned out to be a good one. And I think it's true of deciding to follow Jesus Christ. Could I be wrong? I suppose so. I don't think I am, but I could be. I don’t have certainty, but I choose. 
 
MŁ: And how do you know it? 

AB: Think of flying. You prepare as much as you can, but unexpected situations always arise. Air traffic control sometimes tells you what to do, but mostly, they ask what your intention is. You can’t hesitate when you're flying a plane. You can't just say, well, I'm not going to decide. That's not an option. You try to make them safe choices. You try to make them wise choices. But you have to make choices. Same with life. Thinking is good. But thought must lead to action. Some say I live my life by my transferable flying skills! 

MŁ: And your final destination? 

AB: Heaven, I hope. I believe this life isn’t all there is. I believe in a future with Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—free from pain and suffering. The risk is to focus too much on going to heaven. I think the emphasis should actually be on the other direction: heaven coming to us. 'Thy Kingdom come!' That gives dignity to this world. 

MŁ: This conversation was a foretaste of a heavenly banquet! 

AB: More like Spanish tapas—small plates, not a grand feast. 

PP: A series of little courses? 

AB: Exactly. And when you write this up, make it look like there was a plan. 

MŁ: In your nonlinear, stochastic life, we’ve already found a hidden pattern. A kind of Da Vinci Code of Andrew Briggs. 

AB: And the code is…? 

PP: Have you ever thought about combining your book titles into a life motto? Imagine it inscribed over your Northmoor Road house: Penultimate Curiosity… Keeps Me Seeking… Human Flourishing

AB: Perfect! I love it. That’s my code. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief