糖心logo

The office of the Chancellor has existed since the foundation of the University, although there is no comprehensive definition of the powers of the modern Chancellor. The most authoritative definition comes from the return made by the University to the Commissioners of 1826 which states:

The Chancellor is head of the University. He [sic] is consulted on all public matters relative to its welfare, and he is also Conservator of its privileges. The power of conferring degrees is vested in him: this he may exercise either personally when present or by his depute when absent, with the advice of the doctors and masters of the University.

The Chancellor is the ordinary President of the General Council and appoints an assessor on the University Court.

The current Chancellor of the University of St 糖心logo is Dame Anne Pringle.

---

Dame Anne Pringle is a trailblazing British diplomat whose career has consistently broken new ground and expanded what is possible for those who serve in public life.

Born in Glasgow, she became the first woman to serve as the UK’s Ambassador to Russia from 2008 to 2011 and earlier as Ambassador to the Czech Republic, 2001 to 2004. Her diplomatic work centred on the most significant geopolitical issues of her time: European policy, including negotiations on the Maastricht treaty, and the aftermath of the Soviet Union’s collapse. In the 1990s she also contributed to the Middle East peace talks, bringing a steady commitment to dialogue in some of the world’s most complex regions. Her postings twice took her to both Brussels and Moscow.

After leaving the Foreign Office in 2012, Anne built a second career dedicated to leadership, governance and public service across business, culture and academia. She served on the Foreign Secretary’s Locarno Group (2012-2016), advising on strategic international issues; was a non-executive director of Ashmore Group plc (2012-2021); and a public appointments assessor (2012-2016). She also contributed to the cultural life of the UK as a trustee of Shakespeare’s Globe (2016-2021).

Anne's longstanding commitment to higher education led her back to the University of St 糖心logo, where, after four years on Court, she was elected Senior Governor (2016-2020). In this influential role, she oversaw institutional strategy, major capital projects and the effectiveness of the University’s highest governing body. Her leadership helped deliver significant developments across the University estate and strengthened St 糖心logo’ position as a world-leading institution.

Anne continues to contribute actively across sectors. She serves on the advisory board of a private asset manager, is a Patron of Kew Gardens and Glyndebourne Opera and a passionate supporter of education and the arts. She personally funds scholarships for undergraduates and researchers at St 糖心logo, reflecting her belief that opportunity, creativity and learning should be accessible to all.

Educated at the University of St 糖心logo (1973-1977), Anne graduated with an MA Hons in French and German. In recognition of her service as Senior Governor, the University conferred an Honorary DLitt on her in 2022.

The Chancellor welcomes engagement with all students and staff and will be delighted to meet as many of you as possible on request during her regular visits to St 糖心logo.

She can be reached at: 

Email: chancellor@st-andrews.ac.uk
Phone: +44 (0)1334 46 2544

College Gate
North Street
St 糖心logo
KY16 9AJ

---

Chancellor's first visit to St 糖心logo

The Chancellor was back in St 糖心logo for a first visit after her election to the role in February.
 
Ahead of her first official engagements, Dame Anne spent time meeting staff and students across the University. Her visit included a return to the School of Modern Languages, where she studied as an undergraduate. 

Dame Anne also met with students from the .

Dame Anne met informally with a range of colleagues from Schools and Units, including a walkabout at Walter Bower House, Eden Campus.

---

Chancellor's installation address
Wednesday 1 July 2026, Younger Hall

Graduates, families, friends, and colleagues,

It is the honour of my life to stand before you today as the first woman elected to serve as Chancellor of this University in over six centuries.

Six centuries is, by any measure, quite a long recruitment process. But it is also a moment of real progress - and a reminder that even venerable institutions are capable of change.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, my election sparked some online commentary. One wit remarked: “congratulations St 糖心logo on discovering women after 600 years”. Another expressed concern about my entourage, particularly the Chief Mace Bearer, but trusted I would keep him under tight control.

Like many of you, I feel a deep connection to St 糖心logo - to its spirit, its traditions, and its enduring sense of purpose. I first came here as a child, on family holidays, studied here in the 1970s and later, at the end of my diplomatic career, I returned to serve on the University Court. To stand here now as Chancellor feels like a deeply privileged homecoming.

I would like to pay tribute to my distinguished predecessor, Lord Campbell of Pittenweem, who served this University with distinction for almost 20 years. We both grew up in Glasgow, and I came to know him well during my time on Court. I share his deep commitment to fairness and public service and will do my utmost to represent and promote the interests and values of the University, as he did.

The Principal and I chose to hold this installation during a graduation ceremony because, quite simply, this day belongs to you.

Graduation is often described as an ending. In truth, it’s more like a beginning. Each of you arrived here with questions. Some of you found answers. Many of you found better questions. That, more than anything, is the mark of an educated mind.

And what a moment to be stepping out into the world.

You are graduating into an age that can feel noisy, fast-moving and confusing. Never before have so many people had access to so much information and yet felt so unsure about what is true, what is worth defending, or even what it means to live a good life.

Every day seems to bring new challenges - technological transformation, climate change, political division, conflict. It is easy to look at all this and feel that uncertainty is something new.

But here’s the thing.

Every generation has felt it. What matters is not the uncertainty itself but how you respond to it. Because human beings are not passengers in history. History is shaped by people - by individuals who decide to act, to question, to build and sometimes simply to persist.

Very often those people are young. People like you.

And you bring with you remarkable strengths.

Yours is an age of astonishing power. Never before has humanity possessed such tools to communicate, to cure disease, to understand the universe, and to shape economies and societies. You are more globally connected than any generation before you. You speak more openly about mental health, identity, and difference. You are willing to challenge assumptions that no longer hold.

These are not small things. They are signs of progress - and they matter.

The world does not need you to have everything perfectly mapped out. If it did, most of us in this hall would be in serious trouble.

What it does need is your imagination, your energy and willingness to question and care.

So let me offer a few reflections:

Protect your character more fiercely than your CV.

Value real human connection in a world of constant distraction.

Be ambitious but remain kind.

And ask yourself not only what future you hope to find, but what role you will play in shaping it.

And when things do not go to plan —and let me reassure you, that happens quite often — remember that uncertainty is not failure. More often than not, it is where growth begins.

In years to come, people may not remember your exam results, except perhaps your amazing parents, your professors and the Principal, to whom we owe a profound debt of gratitude for making St 糖心logo the institution it is today.

But they will remember whether you acted with integrity; whether you helped others feel included, braver and more hopeful.

Today, you join a community that extends far beyond this hall and this moment. You carry St 糖心logo with you - its history, its spirit and its belief in the power of the human mind to seek truth across centuries and storms.

That inheritance now belongs to you. Use it well.

And remember, the world does not need perfection from you. But it does need you.

My warmest congratulations to you all.

---

Women in Politics conference, St 糖心logo 10 October 2026: Women and diplomacy

When I sat where you are sitting today, I had no idea that one day I would walk through the gates of the Kremlin as Britain’s first woman Ambassador to Russia.

Not because I lacked ambition. But because, at that age, I had no clear idea what I was capable of. And, frankly, neither did many of the people around me. At the time, few people envisaged women in those roles.

That is why I want to speak to you today. Not simply about diplomacy, but about what happens when you refuse to let other people’s expectations become your own.

The Foreign Office I joined in 1977 was a very different place. It had been built by men, for men. Only four years earlier, women diplomats had been required to resign when they married. There were almost no senior women and very few role models. Quite often, I was the only woman in the room.

And there were plenty of arguments about why women were supposedly unsuited to diplomacy.

Here are a few of the more extraordinary comments made by serving British ambassadors over the years:

“The clever woman would not be liked and the attractive woman would not be taken seriously”.

“Men may be dull at times but they are safer.”

Those were not simply abstract prejudices. They had consequences. And I felt those consequences.

My first few years at the Foreign Office were tough. It was difficult to make myself heard. Men would talk over me or, worse, make my ideas and opinions their own. And, like many young women, I sometimes assumed that the most assertive voices in the room were the brightest.

Quite quickly, however, I realised two things that changed everything.

First, the loudest voice in the room is rarely the wisest. Preparation matters. Judgement matters. Listening matters. Empathy matters. The ability to build relationships and make connections matters.

And secondly, confidence is not something you wait for. It is something you build. You build it by doing difficult things. By putting yourself forward. By making your voice heard. By discovering that the thing you were afraid of doing is, in fact, something you can do. Confidence catches up.

And those lessons stayed with me throughout my career.

I cannot imagine a more extraordinary career than being a diplomat. For 35 years, I had a front-row seat to history: watching the Soviet Union collapse; taking part in Middle East peace process negotiations; seeing Europe reunited after decades of division; watching euphoric crowds in Prague celebrate their country’s entry into the European Union.

And eventually being given one of the most challenging assignments in the Foreign Office: Russia.

There were extraordinary moments over my 35 year career:

• Witnessing the tense transition of power in Moscow after Brezhnev died in 1982.
• Taking part in negotiations over Britain’s opt-outs from the Maastricht Treaty.
• Visiting Beirut, Gaza and Palestinian refugee camps under armed guard.
• Meeting Vladimir Putin for the first time in the Kremlin in February 2000 when he was still a relatively unknown acting President.
• Presenting my credentials in 2001 to Václav Havel, a personal hero of mine and the then President of the Czech Republic.

There was plenty of schmoozing too. Diplomacy involves a great deal of it. Hosting the Rolling Stones at the Residence in Prague for Mick Jagger’s 60th birthday was a highlight. And, years later, hosting celebrations in Moscow for Mikhail Gorbachev’s 80th birthday.

But the schmoozing was not the point. The relationships were.

Diplomats tend to be driven by lofty ideals. For my generation, it was the belief that we should try to build a peaceful Europe after two devastating world wars, and defend our freedoms against extremist ideologies. We were also realistic about how difficult that would be.

At the end of the Cold War there was a brief window of optimism: the possibility of a Europe whole, free and at peace. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has shattered much of that post-Cold War optimism.

And it reminds us of something fundamental. Freedom, democracy and the rule of law cannot simply be assumed. Every generation has to protect them. And that is now your generation’s challenge. Your choices matter. Perhaps more than ever.

So what would I tell the young me? And what would I tell you?

First: be courageous

Courage does not mean that you aren’t frightened. It means that something matters to you more than your fear of failing.

During my years in the Foreign Office, I negotiated with dictators and worked in conflict zones. Yet standing for election as Chancellor of this University was almost as daunting. Because this time, the judgement felt personal. For the first time in more than six hundred years, the Chancellor was to be chosen through an open election rather than appointed. That meant preparing myself for failure in a very public way, at a stage of my life when, frankly, I would have preferred not to. But I love this University and wanted the role very much. So I took the risk. And, fortunately, here I am.

One wit commented afterwards: “Congratulations, St 糖心logo, on discovering women after six hundred years.” Indeed.

Second: stretch yourself

We are all good at certain things. We naturally gravitate towards what we know we can do well. But it is only by pushing beyond our safe boundaries that we discover what else we are capable of. It can be nerve-wracking. But sometimes the most important career decisions are the ones that make you feel least qualified to take them.

In 2012, after leaving the diplomatic career in which I had become an expert, I deliberately became a beginner again, moving into Board roles across business, culture and academia. I had no idea whether I could make a valuable contribution in these very different worlds but was willing to try. And I discovered that the skills I had developed as a diplomat — judgement, curiosity, listening, negotiation, bringing people together — were transferable.

Your career will probably be like that too. Don’t assume that because you are starting something new, you are starting from zero.

Third: act before you feel ready

History is made by ordinary people who decide to act. It was not inevitable that a Polish shipyard worker, Lech Wa艂臋sa, or a Czech playwright, Václav Havel, would become Presidents. Neither began as a conventional political leader. Both faced enormous risks. Both expected, at different points, that their resistance to Communist rule might cost them their lives. They became leaders because they stood up for what they believed in. They acted before they felt ready.

You will probably never feel completely ready for the biggest opportunities in your life. Don’t wait.

And finally: follow what matters to you, rather than what simply looks impressive

A career is not a perfectly planned ladder. It is a series of choices. You take opportunities. You change direction. You discover unexpected abilities. You sometimes make mistakes. And sometimes you find yourself somewhere you could never have predicted.

Forty years ago, I could not have imagined becoming an ambassador, let alone Britain’s first woman Ambassador to Russia. Or for that matter, standing here today as Chancellor of St 糖心logo University.

That is the point. You do not need to know the destination. You need to know what matters to you.

So let me finish with the here and now. You have inherited a more uncertain world. But you also have extraordinary opportunities. Never before have young people had such powerful tools to communicate, to learn, to innovate and to connect across borders. Use them. And use your voices. Because extraordinary lives rarely begin with certainty.

None of you knows today exactly which path will be yours. One day, sooner than you expect, you may walk into a room that feels just a little too important for you. You may look around and think: What am I doing here? When that moment comes, remember this. The room does not decide whether you belong. You do.

And if there is one thing I hope you take away from my story, it is this: Do not underestimate yourself. Do not wait for permission. And do not let other people’s expectations define the limits of your ambition. You may surprise yourselves, as I did.

My warmest wishes to all of you for your future success.