How royal titbits kept the newshounds at bay

As Prince William graduates from St Andrews, Olga Wojtas reflects on the media storm that wasn't - unless you count an embarrassing uncle.

For four years, St Andrews University has refused to comment on the royalty within its student body. It has argued throughout Prince William's time at the institution that it does not discuss individuals. The royal, who graduated this week with a 2:1 in geography, has remained "He Who Must Not Be Named".

Under the unwritten "St Andrews Agreement", which guaranteed the Prince's privacy during his course (a retrospective arrangement, St Andrews says), the UK media pledged to allow university life to continue undisturbed in return for occasional photo opportunities and interviews.

And despite a palpable sense of foreboding before the Prince's arrival, the press seem to have kept to their promise.

"We have had four normal years," says Brian Lang, principal of St Andrews.

This has arguably been relative: an armed police officer turned up when the Prince was due for a lecture, and schoolchildren developed a lucrative trade pointing out the Prince's residence to tourists.

But St Andrews, the home of golf, is blase about celebrity. Stars such as Sean Connery, Samuel L. Jackson, Michael Douglas and Justin Timberlake stroll down the town's main streets without being hassled.

Students who predated William say the only difference they have seen is in outsiders' reactions. And Bonnie Ryder, an entrant alongside the Prince, says excitable media reports about "St-Andrews-University-where-Prince-William-studies" were unfounded. "It's startling when you read things in the paper. Sometimes we're amused, sometimes offended, sometimes angry. The changed perception of St Andrews has come from outside."

Ryder, director of services for the students' association, is from Connecticut and hence among the alleged influx of female American students hoping to snare a royal bridegroom.

"I'd like to meet one of these," she says. "I'm not paying this much money to go to St Andrews (because of William) - that would be a risky investment. I'm an international relations student who came here because of the department and because I wanted to live internationally."

The press officers feared they would spend their time flushing paparazzi out of the bushes. But director Niall Scott says: "We've mainly been pumping out research stories, which have nothing to do with who may or may not be at the university."

Only once has he had to challenge a media team. "That was four years ago and that was Ardent Productions," he says, referring to the Earl of Wessex's television company, whose antics led to gleeful tabloid allegations that William was being "stalked" by his uncle's crew.

William had arrived at the university on a Sunday, going on a public walkabout to satisfy the media. The St Andrews Agreement took effect the next day, the first of the new term, and Ardent's defence that it had not been filming the Prince cut no ice. This was not a William issue but one that covered the university community. "Whether or not it was a misunderstanding, it served to underline how much importance we were going to place on the right to privacy," Scott says. "When term began, the St Andrews Agreement kicked in. Students should not have to face press requests or cameras on the street."

Later, an opportunistic youth who hoped to make it in journalism camped in a van with blacked-out windows and took photographs through a pinhole of one particular student in a baseball cap, head bowed, carrying a pile of textbooks. The young man was removed by Fife Constabulary.

Some media coverage has been useful. Reports of the Prince's switch from history of art to geography highlighted Scotland's broad-based degrees, where decisions about specialisation come only in the third year. "People do not need to commit until their intellectual judgment has reached more maturity. They have two years to graze," Lang says.

There was an undoubted recruitment blip in William's first year, with St Andrews suffering a £175,000 clawback in funding for over-recruiting after a 45 per cent rise in applications. But this was part of an underlying upward trend that has seen more than 11,000 applications, the highest ever, for the coming session when there will no longer be an opportunity to rub shoulders with royalty. "We have undoubtedly had a higher profile and can't claim that (William) has not been a factor, but it could never be the sole reason," Lang says.

Scotland's oldest university resents any implication that it is an academic Abi Titmuss, famous only for its liaison with a celebrity. "We've been firmly on the map for 600 years," Lang says. "Our research and teaching quality ratings are the top in Scotland. That's nothing to do with admissions. It's about our utter and uncompromising commitment to excellence."

Thirty per cent of St Andrews' students are from outside the UK, compared with the Scottish average of 12.5 per cent. That could not be achieved overnight, Lang says. "British Airways depends on St Andrews admissions staff and principal travelling the world to find the best students, wherever they are."

Despite reports that the university threatened to expel students and to dismiss staff who leaked royal information, Lang insists that he has simply given induction talks to ask newcomers to respect everyone's privacy. "I think I can always rely on my staff to behave decently," he says.

Ryder has seen no breaches. "Students here have felt a degree of protectiveness whether they know him or not because they're protecting themselves. We value the community we've created and we don't want to see it changed by tabloid journalism," she says. "What we get mainly is when we go home, people saying: 'Isn't that where someone goes to?' Everyone gives the same reply: 'Yeah, but we don't bother him and he doesn't bother us.'"