I was fortunate to be academically inclined during my school years. This meant that I did well at school. But, more relevant to this discussion, I enjoyed learning. (Well, nearly all the time. When I was about 8 years old, I was, for a brief time, bullied at school and didn’t want to go. But – and I still really don’t know how or by whom – the problem was quickly sorted out.)

My own experiences at school and university have left me with a life-long passion for learning. I feel that I continue to put that passion to good use: books, TV and radio, theatre, adult education courses and, of course, the internet all play a part in my continuing quest to know more stuff. My wife would say much of this learning is of no practical use, but I really don’t care about that. Learning and the creativity conjured up by the human imagination are, to me, moral and social goods in their own right.

Pleasure or Drudgery?

At risk of sounding just a bit evangelical, a word I never expected use about myself, I do wish that everyone could honestly say that they love learning. The discovery of something new should be a moment of joy, at least most of the time.

To that end, I was most struck by a recent article by Eliane Glaser in Prospect magazine: Homeschooling has revealed the absurdity of England’s national curriculum. I do recommend you take the time to read it, as it expresses views which I strongly share, albeit from the point of view of a frustrated parent of school-age children during lockdown. I had experienced similar shock and surprise when my grandchildren, then aged eight and ten years, started spouting complex jargon of English grammar, the likes of which were way beyond my learning when I was their age.

My (unexpressed) thoughts at the time were: “Why are they learning this?” Most of the answers can be found in the Glaser article, but essentially, it boils down to the reforms introduced when Michael Gove was Education Secretary. Don’t forget, his “career psychopath” henchman of choice was one Dominic Cummings, of subsequent Barnard Castle / Rose Garden fame. Glaser opines that the time kids spend on this stuff is “clearly age-inappropriate, joyless and fundamentally pointless”.

Note my emphasis on “joy” (or the lack of it).

Stories, Testing and Gaming the System

Glaser goes on to quote a variety of experts on such subjects as the value of story-telling and listening, the over-use of testing and the consequent gaming of the assessment “system”. The over-emphasis on mechanical, rote-learning of the 3Rs leaves precious little time for creating a love for the arts, music and even the wider aspects of science and the natural world. The National Curriculum and Ofsted create an environment which focuses too much on evidence in writing, ready and waiting for the next “pounce” by Ofsted inspectors.

“Testing drives teaching”, says Debra Myhill in the article: one of the academic advisers on the curriculum. The whole regime kills joy, creativity and imagination. Surely these are the qualities which define the very essence of being human? In an internet-rich world of instant information at our fingertips, the last thing future citizens need is an over emphasis on memorising and parroting facts!

32 Years

In 1988, when my elder son moved to Middle School (as it was then), I started what turned out to be a 32-year “spell” as a School Governor. In the early days, governors were purely decorative. We sat dumbly at meetings whilst the Head Teacher and Chair of Governors engaged in a ritual of mutual admiration.

Times changed and the role of Governor became more demanding. Perhaps the high point was during the years of New Labour. I recall meetings in Whitehall and a group called the “Innovations Unit”. Ideas and best practice were exchanged on the basis of mutual respect. New Labour’s biggest sin was, perhaps, an excess of change. And some New Labour ideas encouraged the thinking that some schools at least might be better off outside the control of democratically accountable local government.

Things turned very sour in 2010. Funding for capital projects was cut to almost zero as part of George Osborne’s 2010 “slash and burn” budget dedicated to the god of austerity. But from then on, it was rule by diktat from the centre. Teachers and governors alike were the enemy – unless they held ideas in tune with the new orthodoxy. Joy went out the window: there was little “love of learning” to be seen. It was all standards, criticism of “the blob” and a climate of fear.

You’re Fired

Matters came to a head and I stood down as a Governor last summer. There were a number of factors which led to my decision, not least that my advancing years were making it more difficult to remember the buzzwords and phrases I was expected to parrot to Ofsted and the like. I did not want to let down the school, whom I continue to hold in great respect and affection. And, to be honest, I really wasn’t enjoying it any more.

But two factors loomed large. The whole dirigiste regime initiated by Gove and broadly maintained by his successors played a big part in my disaffection. But the final straw can be summed up in two words: Gavin Williamson. In my Mr Men 2019 satirical post, I referred to him as Mr Stupid-Boy-Pike, as a mark of the respect I have for him. He was in his kindergarten phase at the time, as Minister of Defence. Lots of toys for boys there!

When the news that Johnson has appointed him as Education Secretary, I instinctively let in a sharp intake of breath, as I recoiled from the news. His litany of serious errors since has received wide publicity, so I will not try to list them all. Here’s a piece from last November, entitled Is Gavin Williamson the Worst Education Secretary Ever? To the list at that time (A level algorithm fiasco and A-level / GCSE U-turn last summer, poor or no guidance to schools on online learning, etc.) we can add the more recent examples of: threatening local authorities with legal action to override their (wise) decision to shut schools early for Christmas, forcing schools to open for one day in early January before another U-turn which has kept children away from schools for the past 2 months.

 But my biggest charge against Stupid-Boy Williamson is this: he doesn’t understand what education is for! See this Indy piece:People think Gavin Williamson is very confused about the point of education. He seems to think only of schools and universities as factories for churning out people with enhanced career prospects. This grotesque, utilitarian approach might be forgivable in a Minister in some other Department, but in Education??

Where’s the nurturing of the love of life-long learning, the richness of culture or the joy in that? So, with a heavy heart, it was time to pack it in.

The Parents’ Revolt?

Glaser ends her article with a call for parents – now well-versed in what their kids do all day at school – to rise up and revolt against the repressive box-ticking mentality their children are being subjected to. Perhaps March 8^th: the day children in England return to school would be a good time to start. But remember: do it for the love of learning. Do it with imagination, with joy.

Allons enfants…

I’ve been a school governor for over three decades. Here are some ideas which help to explain why I do it.

1970s: The Germ of an Idea

In the early 1970s, I was flat sharing in London. One of my co-tenants was an Australian woman who normally worked as a teacher. At the time I knew her, she was on an extended working holiday in the UK. In a conversation with her, she made a number of assertions.

The first was about the relative benefit to national economies of education and military spending. The second was on their relative moral worth.

Economic and Moral Benefits

The economic arguments are worth repeating, in particular the multiplier effects of spending in these two areas. Every pound (or Australian dollar) spent on education is repaid many times over by the enhancements in the skills – and value to the economy – of each generation. In turn, these skills could be passed on to succeeding generations in a form of virtuous circle of benefit. Military expenditure, by contrast, is used for killing and destroying people and things (buildings, etc.) or, like nuclear weapons, are kept in concrete bunkers, do nothing for the whole period they exist and cost money to guard. Nearly fifty years later, these arguments seem a bit simplistic but still hold a basic truth.

But it’s the moral comparison which I still find most compelling. The moral worth to society of spending one’s career as a teacher seems the greatest of any as it is one person’s contribution to the skills and moral values of future generations. By skills I mean basic life skills such as patience, sharing, taking your turn (for the youngest pupils) through to more obvious basic “academic” skills such as reading, writing and numeracy through to a life-long passion for education: learning to learn. Moral worth comes from teaching respect, openness to others’ ideas and views, courage, perseverance, self-respect, tolerance and by school staff modelling these behaviours as they work.

Keeping the Peace 1

One way of “keeping the peace”, at least in the short term, comes through policing people’s behaviour and, in extremis, by military means. Such methods tend to rely on fear as a motivator: a poor one in my view. Fear, like some addictive drugs, is usually required to be applied in increasing “doses” to continue to effect. The law of diminishing returns applies here. Fear can also, of course, lead to resentment by the fearful.

I’m not denying – and I salute – those individual acts of courage which are unique to military service: putting oneself in the “line of fire”, so to speak. But I have very strong doubts about the moral and ethical basis of choosing a military career. My discomfort flows from the unquestioning obedience to orders from a “higher” authority. This is tantamount to signing a blank cheque for any military-related government policy decision, no matter how morally dubious. Please don’t misunderstand: I’m not a pacifist: some degree of “defence” expenditure is necessary. But I would struggle to find a morally defensible casus belli since World War Two.

Keeping the Peace 2

I digress, so let’s get back to education. The school where I am Chair of Governors is situated in the most multinational, multi-ethnic part of a town which is itself quite multicultural. Broadly speaking, it’s a relatively peaceful place and people of many nationalities and cultures generally get along fine with each other. We have around 45 different nationalities represented in our school, a fact which we celebrate. Mutual respect is hard-wired into our values. A neighbouring school on the same “campus” site shares our values.

As I said recently to the Chief Education Officer in our Local Authority, I firmly believe that the values we encourage in our pupils contribute strongly to the community coherence of our town.

British Values?

Which is why, unsurprisingly, I get annoyed when politicians (or Ofsted aping the words) bang on about “British” values. For the record, to the best of my recollection, it was Gordon Brown who, as Prime Minister, started it. The Tories have continued to emphasise this concept as part of the English nationalism and exceptionalism which has, tragically, taken over the Party. To the idea of “British” values, I simply say this: there is no such thing. The values we emphasise in our school are to be found in any liberal democracy in, let’s say, Northern Europe at least. Similar values can be found, to a greater or lesser extent, throughout “Western” liberal democracies.

I would like to say that they are “human” values, but, sadly, I don’t see that they extend that far.

Measuring the Wrong Things

The reality is that we live in a country where Ofsted has been given the job to assess and judge schools and similar institutions. My recent post Abolish Ofsted? goes into more detail on this. The inspection framework doesn’t measure those valuable cultural and societal issues mentioned above. There are some practical reasons for this. “Community coherence” is hard to measure: it is quite subjective and the effects of “good” education in this dimension may take decades to show. Today’s Guardian opinion piece on the importance of creativity in our education system is another example.

A good Ofsted inspector will understand this and (a) make an effort to understand the context of the school and (b) take a holistic approach which makes due allowance for the softer, harder-to-measure aspects of a school’s performance. It is a pity that many Ofsted inspectors are not up to the job in this respect.

Respect

So, my deepest respect goes out to teachers: it’s a hard but rewarding job educating our future citizens. And I salute their “critical friends”, my fellow School Governors, volunteers all (as far as I am aware). In these troubling times, our very future as a civilised nation depends on their dedication.

Disclaimer: the views presented here are my personal ones only and in no way represent those of any schools with which I have been, or continue to be, associated.

I read a spine-chilling story in Saturday’s newspaper which stated that Chinese journalists will soon be required to pass a test, grading their understanding of the teachings of their leader, Xi Jinping. Here’s an account by a US news outlet on the same story. Journalists in China need a licence to practice their profession. In effect, this new edict reduces their role purely to that of propagandists for the Chinese government. Presumably, those journalists with poor marks will be barred from their jobs.

Strangely, you may think, this story brought to mind an organisation which strikes terror in the hearts of the professionals it seeks to regulate: Ofsted. Strangely? There is a strong resemblance, which I explain below.

Coincidentally, on the following day, the Labour Party at its conference has announced that it will include in its manifesto a commitment to abolish Ofsted and replace it with a new system mainly based around local authority inspection. The Times Educational Supplement gives a balanced account here and reports that teaching unions are strongly supportive. It’s worth noting that the comments posted below the TES report help to flesh out the main arguments.

Measuring Affluence

Shadow Education Secretary Angela Rayner said: “I believe Ofsted measures poverty. It measures deprivation. It doesn’t measure excellence. And I think Ofsted has to measure excellence.” From my 32 years’ experience as a school governor, I have long since come to broadly the same conclusion. But here I must first declare an interest: I am a Governor of a school in a deprived area with an exceptionally high level of students for whom English is not their first language. The head and the teachers work exceptionally hard to overcome these disadvantages and ensure that our kids progress well in their long and difficult journey of catch-up with children from more privileged backgrounds. But sadly, we concluded some years ago that it is virtually impossible, arithmetically, for our school to be recognised as “outstanding” because of the way Ofsted measures success.

The Number Fairies

The children’s author Michael Rosen writes an occasional series of articles for the Guardian under the title Letter from a Curious Parent. Rosen is clearly a man after my own heart and I always find him a good read. This article from April 2019 is a case in point.

Rosen’s main criticism of the current system is in its obsession with some highly suspect data and its systemic ignoring of other, more difficult to quantify, factors which influence the overall quality of the education given by a school. The present school “data” is a starting point for deeper probing and insights. It is not the end product from which facile conclusions can be drawn, for example in the notorious league tables so loved by government Ministers and ill-informed sections of the media.

A further major problem with the present Ofsted data system is this. It takes a single dataset (raw students’ results in tests) and cuts them every way conceivable, sub-dividing by gender, ethnicity, a somewhat arbitrary binary disadvantaged / non-disadvantaged categorisation and who knows what. Declaration of interest number two: I have a maths degree and several years’ experience working with statistical analysis in my early career. One of the effects of measuring differences between these various categories is that false positive results will occur by chance and by small sample sizes. Over-emphasis on the detail leads to a regime where false trails are pursued and invalid conclusions are drawn.

In short, the present approach to measuring school performance is statistically illiterate.

Project Fear

The really pernicious effect of this űber-accountability is on the consequences flowing from this rush to judgement. As a governor, I have spent much time discussing (anonymised) individual data, individual kids’ needs and circumstances and the pupil-orientated interventions used and known to bring about improvement. Much of this internal data is now, by Ofsted decree, ignored by their inspectors. Never mind the facts, just look at the huge amount of numbers we can produce for just one school. Reputations can be raised and destroyed by this flawed inspection process. The effects can last years and can destroy the careers of and create unnecessary stress for dedicated, hard-working teachers. The resultant increase in teacher “burn-out” and early retirement, together with the deterrent effect on would-be recruits to the teaching profession, does a huge disservice to teachers and pupils alike.

I am a strong believer in the need for accountability, especially for something as important to future citizens’ life chances as school education. I spent over 20 years as a fairly senior manager in a large corporation devising, redrafting, tweaking and adjusting various performance measures to try to ensure that the more senior managers had a clear and incisive insight into the performance of those we managed. Not an easy or straightforward task. Transferred to the world of education, the issues get ever more complex and important. But a world in which an Ofsted visit is viewed with fear and trepidation – and is seen, to a large extent, as a discredited lottery – is a world gone mad.

“Much Worse Than That”

A few months ago, I attended a Local Authority briefing session for governors. When the formal session had ended, I fell into conversation with a governor from another school, a woman I have never met before. I made some comment to the effect that I was unsure, on balance, whether Ofsted’s existence was a good or bad thing for the education of our children. I said I thought it was probably bad. “Oh no!” said my interlocutor. “They’re much worse than that!”

With Stupid Boy Pike as current Education Secretary, it looks like we will have to wait for a future Labour government before there’s any chance that things will improve.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Tessa Jowell, who died on Friday. She has been lauded as the Minister who drove forward the UK’s bid to host the 2012 Olympics. But arguably, her greatest legacy was the introduction of the Sure Start programme. This was a valued and evidence-based programme to help disadvantaged children in their early years development. Sadly, this programme had been decimated by Osborne’s ill-conceived austerity policy.

I was speaking to a head teacher I know well recently. He told me that, sadly, he has had to make the first exclusions from his school this year, after previously succeeding for many years to avoid this. He made a direct link between curriculum changes and exclusions – a link I had not previously made myself.

I understand that exclusions are up considerably in other local schools, too.

School Budgets

As a Chair of Governors myself, I am only too aware of the effects of cuts to school budgets: difficult decisions have to be made. With the lion’s share of the budget going in salaries, this inevitably means fewer staff. With statutory requirements around class sizes, it is the support staff who tend to get reduced in number. This makes it more difficult to keep “hard to handle” pupils in mainstream school provision.

The vicious 40% cuts to Local Government budgets from central government have also severely reduced the capacity of second-line support to these vulnerable pupils. A double whammy.

Sure Start

The head reminded me – it’s a secondary school – that they are now seeing children who were unable to take up Sure Start schemes owing to the squeeze on LA budgets, when much of the Sure Start programme was cut back. Much of what Sure Start was about was to enable children from disadvantaged backgrounds catch up in their development with their middle-class peers, so they didn’t have to play catch-up during their school years. Prevention is always better – and cheaper – than cure.

Youth Services

One obvious effect of swingeing LA budget cuts is the decimation of Youth Services. It does not take a genius to work out that, if there is less for kids to do out of school, the temptation to get into trouble is correspondingly greater. Obvious, really.

Curriculum Changes

The one bit I hadn’t twigged was the connection between Gove’s curriculum changes and the rise in exclusions. It all stems from the higher status afforded to academic subjects by the English. The pressure on all 16 year olds to take subjects from the EBacc list narrows the curriculum choices – in particular, away from vocational subjects. These academic subjects are often less suited to children with learning and behaviour issues and further reduces their self-esteem. This, in turn, encourages poor behaviour and the risk of exclusion.

So, in summary, higher exclusion rates follow directly from a toxic cocktail of Tory policy changes (i.e. curriculum changes and budget cuts).

Grammar Schools

Meanwhile, the Government announces it will waste £50m on “expanding” grammar schools – an evidence-free Theresa May vanity project which solves nothing, a subject I first raised back in 2015.

Ho hum.