Jun 182012
 

Yesterday, I suggested that politicians – as opposed to evidence-based professionals like lawyers, doctors, scientists and educators – really were anchored in medieval times:

[...] those times when lords did their lording over serfs who did their kneeling; where people occupied castes which knew their place; and where every attempt at social mobility involved a threat against the integrity of the status quo.

I also concluded that:

Even as doctors, lawyers, scientists and educators have left behind them the dark and dreary miseries of medieval imposition and woodentop thought, politicians continue to believe in top-down hierarchies, in pyramidal politics, in tribal loyalties, in conditional relationships of all kinds … essentially, in the pursuit of a grand largesse where you get ahead only as far as birth allows you to; where you get ahead only as far as money defines is permissible.

Now I realise, in retrospect, that I was perhaps using a rather broad brush when I painted all politicians as medieval throwbacks.  So here’s a gentle – and I hope reasonable – qualification of my original thesis: the higher up the greasy pole of power a politician gets, the more medieval his or her behaviours become.

Medieval in the sense I describe above.  Or, alternatively, just as constructively, medieval in the sense of a persistent and resilient plague.

So not all by any means.  Just those who exert power and count.

Does that sit more nicely?

Of course it doesn’t.  And those of you who are practising politicians will resent my casting aspersions on a whole profession – especially in times of terrible crisis.  “It doesn’t help one bit!” you will exclaim.  “It’s unfair, unjust and totally unhelpful to be describing the vast majority of good professionals in terms of the awful ones at the top.”

But that’s the problem, isn’t it?  When we talk of professional classes such as doctors or educators, we’re talking about roles where training periods can be between one and seven or more years.  And whilst this training is taking place, performance, attitude and behaviours are all measured and tested so that the individuals under the microscope of improvement understand exactly what is expected of them – before they go out and practise.

Where is the training-ground of politicians?  Local government politics perhaps?  On the job, most certainly.  My experience at parish-councillor level is depressing.  Most significant decisions were taken (or not, as the case may be) on firmly partisan lines.  No real thought going on there; no careful analysis of what was really needed.  Just small people acting out of personal prejudice – and things they’d picked up from the papers.

Multiply this experience up a thousandfold and what happens?  The more you get these politicians moving out of their comfort zones, the less they are likely to use data to guide them.  Instinct, impulse and hunch rear their ugly heads.  Which is when we get the plague of the greasy-pole theorem I mentioned above.

If politicians truly want to be treated on the same level as other professional classes, they must want to show the rest of us they are prepared to be trained, channelled, instructed and measured in the same evidence-based ways as those they would aspire to rule.  And they must also show, as lawyers, scientists, educators and the medical profession do most days of the week, that their vocation and goal in life is to be what they train to become.

For far too many voters, there is a perception that political activity is a simple springboard – on the backs of ordinary people’s interests – to better and materially more satisfying things.

What do I suggest, then, we require of our political class before they can begin to enable our societies?  A very short list made up of the following two items:

  1. proper and professionally couched training and study as a minimum requirement before any formal political activity which involved representing others can be countenanced; and
  2. a firm and indissoluble promise to never exercise any other profession or activity on the back of one’s political history

Would that do us?

Does that seem reasonable?

What, as a chastened voter, would you think of such changes?

And would you have any other items you’d like to add to the list?

May 212012
 

Richard Dawkins – he who misunderstands God – finds himself in curious agreement with Michael Gove.  The latter, meanwhile, clearly believes himself to be God’s representative on earth.

Whilst Richard Dawkins’ godlessness is deliberate and intentioned – he reaches his atheist position out of considered internal debate – Michael Gove’s is the result of internal incoherence.  Here, for example, on the subject of using open source principles in curriculum development, he is clearly moving in the right direction, as he describes current IT training in schools as “so 19th century”:

Speaking at the BETT show for educational technology in London, Michael Gove, described the current programme of information and communications technology (ICT) taught in schools, as ‘harmful and dull’.

It is to be replaced by an ‘open source’ curriculum that will created by both university professors and the technology industry. The Education Secretary will open a consultation on what the new curriculum should teach next week.

And yet, in practically the same breath, he refuses to take the opportunity that spreading the Word of God could offer to a truly open source mentality.  Witness the current state of copyright for the Authorised Version of the King James Bible (the bold is mine):

It is often mistakenly thought that the Authorized Version is out of copyright. In fact, the Authorized Version is actually under United Kingdom Crown Copyright, though this is not enforced outside the United Kingdom. The rights to the Authorized Version are held by the British Crown under perpetual Crown copyright. Publishers are licensed to reproduce the Authorized Version under letters patent. In England, Wales and Northern Ireland the letters patent are held by the Queen’s Printer, and in Scotland by the Scottish Bible Board. The office of Queen’s Printer has been associated with the right to reproduce the Bible for centuries, the earliest known reference coming in 1577. In the 18th century all surviving interests in the monopoly were bought out by John Baskett. The Baskett rights descended through a number of printers and, in England, Wales and Northern Ireland, the Queen’s Printer is now Cambridge University Press, who inherited the right when they took over the firm of Eyre & Spottiswoode in 1990.[135]

Other royal charters of similar antiquity grant Cambridge University Press and Oxford University Press the right to produce the Authorized Version independently of the Queen’s Printer. In Scotland theAuthorized Version is published by Collins under licence from the Scottish Bible Board. The terms of the letters patent prohibit any other than the holders, or those authorised by the holders, from printing, publishing or importing the Authorized Version into the United Kingdom. The protection that the Authorized Version, and also the Book of Common Prayer, enjoy is the last remnant of the time when the Crown held a monopoly over all printing and publishing in the United Kingdom.[135]

Just imagine the impact Gove could really have had if he’d treated the Word of God with the same democratic consideration as he has cared to afford the IT curriculum.  To be honest, it could be argued that both form a comparably complex body of knowledge and influence in our latterday society which really should not be underestimated.  Yet, to use one of his own phrases, Gove has chosen to use “so 19th century” distribution systems to share knowledge which supposedly came down from God Him- or Herself – when he could’ve chosen to open source, copyleft and web-distribute the the most accomplished and beautiful translation of the Bible the English-speaking world has ever known.

But no.  Instead, whilst giving IT teachers the right and obligation to devise their own freely shareable curriculums, he refuses to retire the secular world’s hold over making money out of God’s teachings.

And that, truly, is a perfect example of the most godless approach to government communication we’ve seen for quite a while.

May 162012
 

We’re a household full of examination stress at the moment.  My eldest is at uni, looking to pass his second-year exams in order to be able to visit and stay in China next year.  My middle son, meanwhile, is taking his AS-levels – next week he has three exams: Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

But where I detect significant distress is in my daughter.  She has only just turned fourteen and yet her school has decided for some incredibly bizarre reason to put her whole cohort through the stress of GCSEs.  Just remember how you were at such an age: study skills barely developed, if at all; in the middle of adolescent angst, the terror of potential failure and ever-present panic getting ready to strike one down.

Now all credit to her Religious Studies’ teacher (for that is the GCSE which is being sat).  He used to be a lawyer and has produced an excellently structured and logical set of revision notes.  She truly appreciates his wisdoms and his intelligences – and in the evidenced and logical way that she has finds him quite the best teacher in the school.  So it was that this morning, in the face of rising hysteria, he told the cohort not to worry about tomorrow’s exam: it really meant very little and should cause no preoccupation whatsoever.

Good job, my man: sensitive teaching.  Ruffled feathers gently soothed.  Could question the decision to put forward Year 9s for GCSEs in the first place – but would not question the sensibility with which this teacher has carried out his role.

So there was my daughter – slightly less anxious than before – as the morning progressed to Geography.  Can you then guess what happened?  The Geography teacher, whose subject was not being examined in any way, proceeded to truly put the fear of God up the cohort all over again.  The admonition apparently went something along the following lines: “You really won’t want to fail this exam.  The government doesn’t want to see you sitting and resitting exams all the time.”

WTF?  I mean, WTF?  WTF does my daughter’s taking of GCSEs at the tender age of barely fourteen have to do with the government, for Christ’s sake?

Yes.  It’s clear that teachers are being extremely stressed out by the consequences of the government’s stupid cuts and idiotic economic policy.  I am, as a person mildly interested in politics.  My wife and I are, as parents of the above-mentioned children.  But surely the job of such interested parties as ourselves is to strive whenever we can to put a protective firewall between callous government and our charges.  Or should we tell it just as it is?  As the Coalition government proceeds to punish and bully its subjects, should we transmit the message and process down the line and bully our subjects in turn?

To be honest, I am absolutely fed up of a couple of really bad eggs at my daughter’s school.  Bullying of the casual kind that is taking place between teachers and students is utterly unacceptable even as hierarchies continue to accept it.

But the kind of treatment my daughter and her classmates had to suffer today, at the hands of a teacher who (at least today, for whatever reason) was anything but well-meaning, is completely intolerable.

As is the political class which kicks the man who kicks the woman who kicks the kid who kicks the dog which chases the cat which mauls the bird which was once able to eat the worms.

And that’s how the Coalition bullies our teachers into bullying our children.

Only the rest of us must surely manage to do a little better than that.

Jul 202011
 

I’m off on my annual holiday to Spain. 

I was born half English and half Croatian.  I spent my early life in Chester.  I then spent sixteen years living, working, making mistakes and generally learning about the world in a country which has given me a wife and three beautiful children.  So how could I not revisit a place which has provided me with so much pleasure and friendship?

This summer I’ll have to spend a bit of my time working, though.  I’m looking to teach English and Spanish online in the autumn, as well as becoming more active in and recovering a practical engagement with publishing – something the Spanish are particularly good at and which I had much good fortune to learn from about a decade ago.  But writing is my very first love – so I’m sure once we get to Spain, those itchy itchy fingers will be looking to tap away at keyboards all over again.

A blog-free summer then, but not entirely.

Make the most of it whilst you can, dear readers.  There’s been a change in your profiles over the past couple of months.  The majority of you do still come from the US; but Britain, Germany, the Netherlands and the Ukraine – as well as a smattering of interested souls from much farther afield – seem to be landing on these pages with increasing regularity.

I hope you find what you are looking for.  I find it gratifying that whilst I tend not to write for anyone in particular – that is to say, I break the rules of focus and niche which I suppose I really should not – even so there are people out there interested in reading what I say.

So I’d just like to put on the record, just so you know, that I’m very grateful for – and also kind of in awe of – your interest and support.  And I look forward to meeting up with you all again in about five to ten days’ time.

In the meantime, enjoy the music.  One of my favourite songs of summer …

Jun 302011
 

I’ve written on these pages quite a bit on Croatia and its people.  I have family there.  It used to be my summer holiday destination.  I have always been between two cultures – at the very least. 

Since I lived for sixteen years in Spain and my wife and children are Spanish, this kind of became almost three cultures.

For me, my mother’s sister Tuga, my dearest dearest aunt, always represented what Croatia meant to me.  There was the food, the family life, the strict education, the more than occasional indulgences, the slipper thrown in anger, the kisses and hugs given ever-so-freely – the sense, when all was said and done, of belonging to a nation I was nevertheless always going to be an outsider to.

There was also her impish manner – her laughter, her joy of life.

I remember conversations with strange people when we went back in the 1980s – young people who wanted to find out our political inclinations.  I was naive at the time.  Then, after almost a decade away, I went back in 2002 and had this experience – which only goes to show how me and naive are probably, even now, still bosom pals.

I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown – in part because I was running out of money; I was unemployed – and had been for three years.  But, in hindsight, I think a more important reason was that I believed myself a fish out of water – and the pond I was inclined to hanker after was Britain not Croatia.  In this, I was mistaken.  In Britain, my instincts and reactions were misunderstood.  Human love and physical contact are an intrinsic part of the Slav soul. 

Britain believes in many things – but in its institutions, love and contact form no part.

That, then, is what – because of Tuga and people like her – Croatia really means to me: humanity, reality and sincerity.

I may be mistaken, of course – but no more mistaken than I am in gravitating towards a country which believes that when teachers duly vote in favour of a strike, this is disorder.  And when governments use tear gas against the impoverished, this is order.

Nov 242010
 

Here’s an example of that corporate thinking-out-of-the-box that makes or breaks governments – a marketing coup if there ever was one:

I’m with Janet Daley in applauding Michael Gove’s stress on getting former soldiers into teaching, especially after catching part of an interview with a teacher working in Sandwell – (sorry, missed his name) – on the BBC news channel about an hour ago. He caught my eye first because he was wearing a tie, which is no big deal you might say, plenty do, but it stood out. And he was delightfully blunt about his motivation – having voiced the criticisms of teaching, he wanted to put his money where his mouth is. Teach First got him into a ‘challenging’ school, and he is now fully fledged. The BBC also has the example of Steve Priday, a teacher at Bedminster Down School in Bristol, a former police officer who then spent 14 years in the Royal Military Police, with service in Iraq, Kosovo and Northern Ireland. I wonder what effect their example might have on the children currently stuck in Whitehall shouting ‘Tory scum!’

In any other circumstances I’d also be inclined to applaud the creative thinking – the integration of war heroes on their return to civvy street is always a thorny issue and requires imaginative responses from all concerned.  What’s more, a society which can learn from its soldiers in a programmed and consistent way is a society far less likely to go to war unnecessarily – a reality which nobody should wish to decry.

But today’s events, where there have been widespread reports on Twitter of young people being deliberately kettled by the police, are not normal circumstances.  To play on the public’s sensibilities and invoke such sensitive ideas – ideas which deserve a far better hearing in far less heated times – is to play with political fire.

My immediate response was consequently thus:

How about turning ex-teachers into soldiers? They could court-martial ex-students for going on extra-parliamentary demos. #demo2010

And it’s true – they jolly well could.

So how about a bit of job mobility for all?

How about if Mr Gove’s eager band of brothers and sisters (more detail here) goes on to do the job our ex-soldiers used to perform and then we encourage our ex-soldiers into the honourable business and duty of national politics?

Aug 272010
 

This story breaks my heart.  I can fully empathise with the teacher in question, even though I am not – too often – a teacher myself any more.  I used to love teaching – I can honestly say some of the most liberating moments of my life took place within the four walls that I employed in order to enclose myself and my charges in environments of safe and shared adventuresome voyages of intellectual – as well as occasionally emotional – discovery.

Now I find that – as a general rule – this air of liberation I can only enjoy whilst writing on this blog.  Funny how the four walls have turned inside out, like an orange peel stripped from its fruit.  The fruit is what is left – naked and exposed.  That is quite a useful description of a certain kind of blogging.

The kind I act out here, anyhow.

A terribly deep sadness that this teacher I link to above speaks of, don’t you think?  I am reminded of the worst kinds of production lines whilst I read the carefully crafted words of an intelligent observer of our shared condition as thinking beings, beings who more and more are being required not to think in what I can only believe can be the limiting interests of empiricism.  The nub of the issue in these two paragraphs:

Experts are still arguing about whether value-added measurements are at all reliable, but the published rankings will starkly declare that they can reveal which teachers are more and less effective. The scores give no clue as to why one teacher scores high and another low, but with this kind of public scrutiny, many teachers are likely to spend more time on test preparation at the expense of more meaningful instruction.

There are test-taking strategies that help students score higher on tests, rote drills on the kinds of things likely to be on the exams. But as a parent, I would rather my children learn to think critically and participate in lively discussions that delve deep into subject matter. I want them to learn why, not just how. Like most parents, I do not want my child’s value as a student measured only by a standardized test. I want my children to have their curiosity heightened, to feel an insatiable desire to know more. While teaching, I frequently ask myself, “Would I want my child to be in my classroom right now? Is it engaging? Are the kids excited about what we are studying? Are they developing inquiry that will drive them to want to know more?” Test preparation tends not to be that kind of teaching.

For there is no joy to be had in a world where we choose to measure what we can measure simply because it’s easier to do so.

No joy to be had out of measuring the cheaply measurable instead of striving to measure what we need to measure.