Strange goings-on in the realm of academia

At 9.30am, the lecture hall is empty except for people checking microphones and setting out water glasses. But already, university staff are cheerfully buck-passing. 'Any complaints, don't tell me, speak to Vicki' an administrator tells a newly arrived colleague.

Once the tribunal opens, nobody has any complaints to air. This surprises the inquiry head, retired judge Mr Justice Noel Power, although he has explained procedures with such courteous clarity it would be hard to find anything to disagree with.

He is at pains to guide participants through the minefield of legal trip-wires. When Dr Robert Chung Ting-yiu declares he has no intention of cross-examining anyone, he is kindly advised that it might be wise to hold that right in reserve because hearings twist and turn and there could be unexpected evidence that witnesses might wish to question.

There is something odd about seeing academics, used to decoding the obscure to the rest of us, being shepherded along unfamiliar legal highways like tourists in a foreign land. For those who know his commanding style, it is equally strange to see a low-profile vice-chancellor Cheng Yiu-chung. Normally, he strides around his fiefdom with a team of respectful acolytes. Three empty seats on either side distance him from Dr Chung and pro-vice chancellor Professor Wong Sui-lun, who seems the most isolated figure in the room, alone at the end of the row.

Counsel from the Department of Justice, who represents the absent Andrew Lo Cheung-on, Tung Chee-hwa's senior special assistant, asks about immunity from certain questions. Mr Justice Power says if the witness fails to answer: 'That might put him in some sort of jeopardy'. But tribunals are not courts, and only university staff are obliged to tell all.

Dr Chung presents a statement explaining background details of his case. While he is entitled to his opinions, Mr Justice Power goes on, the tribunal does not want explanations. 'We are seeking to establish the facts.'