Fully locked in or totally locked out? What your favourite Phil Rob spot says about you

Whether you’re in first year pretending to revise or in third year fighting for your life in dissertation season, Phil Rob is the main character of Newcastle Uni. It’s the most emotionally unstable relationship you will ever have.

Phil Rob will let you in at 3am… but will absolutely judge you for it.

Basement tables: Hopeless romantic

Everyone says this floor is like being on Love Island but I am yet to be approached by my very own Rob Rausch. No one has pulled me for a chat by the printers yet.

No work gets done here. Be serious. You spend more time yapping than tapping on your keyboard. This is the floor for “group study sessions” that end in pointless procrastination. I’ve had some of the best conversations over Tupperware meals here, alongside some of my least productive revision sessions. This area is basically a fashion show. Full disclosure: I am sometimes guilty of going to the library with friends purely because I bought a cute new outfit I thought needed to be seen.

Basement booths: 50 per cent locked in, 50 per cent horizontal

If the librarians don’t want us to lie down, why are the seats so comfortable? I’m almost certain I’ve seen someone fully napping here. I’ve been tempted before but would feel too judged by those mysterious people walking around with clipboards every ten minutes. You choose these booths when you want to chat but also convince yourself you’re being productive.

They’re rarely free, but when they are, they’re arguably the most sensible basement option. You’ll open your laptop. You might even type. But if you claim you’ve done six hours of work here, at least four were spent scrolling through your friend’s Hinge matches.

Basement study rooms: Gamer or collective academic weapon

Call of Duty or GTA?

Every time I walk past, someone is playing video games and demolishing a Domino’s. If you book one of these rooms, minimal studying is getting done. I’ve always thought these rooms would be an amazing location for afters – someone must have tried it before.

Alternatively, if you’re not a gamer and you sit here you’re probably part of a collective academic weapon.

I aspire for my friend group to be this second type. I always see people writing complex equations on the boards in these rooms. I am deeply jealous of them. I wish I could focus in a group session without immediately derailing it by asking about whatever happened at Feral Friday.

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Ground floor: NPC

The most irrelevant floor filled with NPCs. I am convinced the people who sit here have just finished a StairMaster session at the uni gym because there is no other conceivable reason to choose this floor. It feels far too exposed. And the proximity to the exit is dangerously tempting. One minor inconvenience and I am fully clocking out. If you truly love this floor though, no judgement from me (maybe a little).

Third floor window seats: Sunset studier

I am not at all biased, but this is where the best people sit. You say you choose these seats for the views (which are elite at sunset), but you spend most of your time people-watching. Your revision session quickly turns into silently judging the outfits of students power-walking past with Sainsbury’s bags cutting off circulation in their fingers.

There is an unspoken trauma bond between the top floor window people. No one speaks. Everyone suffers. Everyone locks in. I still have beef with a librarian who shushed me here once. However, this remains the superior seating choice for actually getting work done.

Fourth floor booths: Academic weapon (hanging by a thread)

These booths are for mega lock-in sessions, usually the night before a big deadline (catch me there tomorrow night). The people who sit here are armed with a Red Bull, a granola bar, and a dream. Eighty seven per cent of Newcastle students have cried on the top floor of Phil Rob at least once. The other thirteen per cent are lying. According to legitimate research conducted by me.

See you all there at 11.59pm when the panic hits.

The stairs: Inconclusive

I don’t think this technically counts as a study spot, but there are always people lurking in the stairwell so it deserves an honourable mention.

I always assume they’re lurking for one of these reasons:

1. They’ve been kicked out by a stern librarian aggressively pointing at a “shhh” sign on one of the upper floors.
2. They’re mid academic crisis.
3. They’re waiting for a friend who “just popped to the loo” 30 minutes ago.

Some of the juiciest conversations in Newcastle have probably happened on the Phil Rob stairs.

We may never know.