Posh Sport on Public Land: Is golf in St Andrews elitist

Is golf elitist? Most people would probably say yes and point to the £600 price tag on golf clubs or the five-star hotels that serve golf tourists. But here in St Andrews, where the game is played on public land and protected by an act of Parliament, is that still true? As an outsider to the sport, golf seems to represent all things prim, proper, and posh. To me, the driving range looks like the realm of lords, ladies and rich tech bros. Could St Andrews be the outlier among so many country-club golf courses? I spoke to several students and local golfers to find out whether the home of golf’s fame makes it more or less exclusive.

The Old Course, the most ancient golfing ground in the world, belongs to the town and its people. Decreed by Archbishop John Hamilton in 1552, the ruling still stands 474 years later. Though the Old Course and its fellows now belong to the Fife Council under the supervision of the Links’ Trust, people are still welcome to walk the greens on Sundays, picnic, and play fetch with their dogs. But in a place where tourists spend thousands a day, can students and locals actually afford to play at the home of golf?

As it turns out, playing the Old Course isn’t as exclusive as you might think. Students and St Andrews residents get heavily discounted tickets. Eliza Dana, a fourth-year Geography and Sustainable Development student who’s also the women’s captain of the University Golf Club, explained that it’s a “really excellent deal” for students, costing only about £400 per year to play the St Andrews courses. Connie Hardick, a third-year Management student and the Golf Club’s social secretary, agreed. “You’ve made your money back if you play the Old Course just twice in the whole year,” she explained. Compared to tourist prices, which can cost £350 or more per round on the Old Course, it’s a bargain. 

Beyond the University, local golfers receive a significant discount on Links tickets as well, although St Andreans must live within a specific range of the Old Course in order to be considered for the discount. The Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews has also invested in a number of programmes meant to make golf more accessible, such as encouraging more women to pick up a club and facilitating accommodations for disabled players. Young St Andreans between the ages of five and eighteen are often exposed to golf via the St Andrews Links Junior Golf Association (SALJGA), which offers group coaching and access to golf facilities for an annual fee of £30. 

Both students and locals seem to think that golf is more accessible here than in many other places, but “there are definitely still financial barriers,” Dana said. Over the years, John Laird says his membership fees at the R&A have increased, and sometimes he prefers playing elsewhere because St Andrews has exploded in popularity. It’s just too crowded. 

Though you might think that R&A members can saunter onto the Old Course any time they like, play a round and then enjoy a five-star meal, that’s not the reality by far. According to Laird, a Cupar resident and local farm owner, members have to ballot for the Old Course like anyone else and schedule rounds far ahead of time on the other St Andrews courses. “They [the Links’ Trust] just didn’t know what they had thirty years ago, but now they’ve realised it, so the fees have shot up and so has the popularity,” he said. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the public nature of the golf course has made it occasionally too busy for locals. 

Affordability and easy access don’t always mean real accessibility. Your family heritage doesn’t have an impact on most sports, but it sure does with golf. Both Hardick and Dana say that whether or not you feel comfortable playing golf really does depend on whether your parents play. Hardick doesn’t have a golf background. Looking back on her first few golf lessons, she remarked that “it’s really intimidating to start,” and there can be a lot of imposter syndrome. It’s difficult to go down to the driving range and start playing, especially in a place where so many people seem to be born golfers. “But if you go with someone who saunters in like they own the place, it’s a lot easier to get comfortable,” Hardick said. 

Though getting across the grassy threshold might still be hard, Laird says that golf’s country club stereotype just isn’t quite true in St Andrews. Laird, who’s been playing golf since the age of six and has been a member of the Royal & Ancient Golf Club for over twenty years, definitely has the experience to say so. “It’s just different here,” he said. Since most golfers here are local Fifers, “golf is more common, a casual social space”. “It’s really a form of escapism for me,” Laird said. “A way to get off the farm and see friends.” 

As an outsider to golf, I’d imagined the social scene as a draining place, somewhere between Gossip Girl and Downton Abbey, like an LA prep-school mixed with tweed-topped formalities. But apparently, I’ve got it wrong. In fact, most golfers I spoke to loved the sport especially because of the social scene, not despite it. “Every time I tell someone I play golf, they say, oh, we should play golf together,” third-year student Amara Baker-Onyancha said. 

Hardick and Dana agreed that it’s been “really great for making friends.” When nervous first-years approach the Freshers’ Fayre table, Hardick likes to tell them that though it may seem intimidating at first, she’s come to love the sport and the people so much that she’s “literally thrown [her] whole life into it.” She’s now represented the University, sits on the committee and even has a job in the industry, despite the fact that she only discovered the sport two years ago. In her own words, “it’s just made my life so much better.”

Dana and Hardick both love the people they’ve met through the sport and the communities they’ve created themselves, but what about the general Golf Club culture? “It could be better,” Hardick admitted.

“It is a very male-dominated sport,” Dana added. Hardick mentioned that there can be a lot of “golf ego, like ‘my golf’s better than yours’” and men tend to enter the Club as experienced golfers, whereas most of the Club’s beginners are women, creating a skills-based (and confidence-based) imbalance. The Golf Club’s structure helps make up for this imbalance, Hardick said, by having a number of women-only socials. 

Though Hardick appreciates that it might seem “a bit odd,” she thinks that having women-only events creates a really positive, safe space for everyone, especially newcomers to golf. One of the Club members even created a new women’s university golf league, and plans to hold a panel about women in golf in St Andrews.“As a club,” Hardick said, “we're trying to really integrate beginners, especially women, into our history and tradition, and make sure they're not feeling left out.” 

On the other hand, Baker-Onyancha is not involved with the Golf Club and prefers to go out on the green with the older St Andreans she’s become friends with or just by herself. “I think the locals don’t view it as an elite sport,” she said, “but the students definitely see it as something special.” 

For Baker-Onyancha, that special shine given off by University golf has kept her away from it. Though she said she’s on the periphery of the golf club, it just doesn’t feel like the place for her. “There’s some ego around it,” she said, “and the spaces are just very white and very male.” She prefers to play it as an independent sport, describing golf as a place of self-growth, where she “juxtaposes” herself against the golfing norm and practices putting herself in places that seem like the opposite of where she’d be comfortable. “It’s very grounding, actually,” Baker-Onyancha said. She likes to go to the driving range by herself, feel the rhythm of it, and enjoy seeing measurable progress. 

“It's a real shame if you don't play golf here in St Andrews or you don't try, because then you've missed out on half the town,” Hardick said. Regardless of their approach, all the golfers I spoke to shared the same opinion: “It completely opens up your horizons — literally,” Hardick explained. As social secretary of the Golf Club, she sees it as one of her duties to make sure everyone who has even the slightest itch to play golf gets to try it out. “No one should have to come banging at the door to get in — we want to pull them through at the first knock,” and bring them into the world of golf.

Illustration by Isabelle Holloway