Assessing the need for new school places is difficult, says Fiona Millar, but the government must come clean about its strategy
How should we decide what constitutes "need" for a new school? This, I predict, will be one of the most furiously contested issues of the next few years. Giving any willing group the chance to set up a school may sound appealing on paper, but the devil will be in the detail, and in some cases the detail could get very murky. Anyone who doesn't believe that should take a look at what has happened to Christ the King school in Merseyside.
This school was one of the first new Building Schools for the Future (BSF) projects. Its superb £24m building includes features about which many heads and pupils can now only dream. At its triumphant launch in 2009, Tim Byles, the chief executive of Partnership for Schools, a quango charged with delivering new school buildings, described it as an "exemplary BSF project".
The only slight problem with this exemplary project was that it quickly became clear that there weren't enough pupils to fill the school. By January of this year, it was barely viable, and complete closure has only been staved off by a fiercely loyal parent campaign.
One of the most puzzling aspects of the current "grow your own school" fad is the ongoing involvement of Partnership for Schools. This organisation's byzantine bureaucracy was undoubtedly the least attractive part of BSF and was cited by Michael Gove, the education secretary, as one reason why the entire programme needed to be scrapped. A better decision might have been to save BSF and scrap PfS – instead, it has a new role establishing free schools and even offers a "free school kit" on its website, to help parents understand their "educational landscape", including how many surplus places currently exist.
Assessing the need for new school places is notoriously difficult. Parent choice, demand, demographic change, location of existing schools (often on or close by borough boundaries), and pupil mobility are inextricably mixed. But in a time of rapidly diminishing capital budgets, rigour and precision are surely priorities. Quite apart from the economic cost of more Christ the Kings, there is a human cost to the pupils, staff and families involved in a school that has to close at short notice.
But PfS's past performance, and the Department for Education's own requirements on new school providers, do not inspire confidence. The free school providers Stage 2 proposal form contains one question about "evidence of parental demand". The answer is limited to 200 words, the evidence requested looks flimsy and the completed forms are notoriously difficult to come by, even using freedom of information requests (FOI).
Nevertheless, some local parent groups opposing free schools have already successfully challenged this "evidence" by exposing petitions signed by any parent, not just those in the relevant age groups, or local authority data showing that a new school may be needed in 10 or 15 years' time, but not now.
The point at which this mysterious evidence may become more highly charged is when the secretary of state decides to use the powers he is awarding himself in the Education Bill to requisition local authority land for free schools.
It isn't yet clear whether the land will be purchased, leased, at the full cost, or not, but the bill also states that he is required to assess the impact new provision might have on other local schools. If the impact is another school's closure, because surplus places already exist or are to be created, will the government's actions be justifiable, either morally or economically? And might the secretary of state find himself subject to yet another legal challenge?
Whether surplus places should be created to lubricate a market in education has bedevilled the question of school choice for decades and has always, ultimately, been resisted. If it is now the coalition's intention to pursue this goal and force some schools to close, ministers should be more open about this, and give parents in the threatened schools the evidence they need to mount a counter campaign – the government may be surprised by how ferociously parents will fight to protect existing provision regardless of its status or popularity.
If it is not the intention, that should be made explicit, too, before more time and money is wasted on projects that may themselves eventually prove not to be viable either.
www.localschoolsnetwork.org.uk
Studying abroad is becoming a real option as our students look for the right university
"My Dutch uni plans are going well," says Josh Kay, 17, one of five students Education Guardian is following through sixth form. Josh, who is studying four A-levels in history, German, sociology and English at Stourport school in Worcestershire, is applying to read international relations at universities in the Netherlands as well as the UK, to boost his job opportunities and save money.
Last month, he clicked "send" on his applications to Maastricht and Groningen universities via the Studielink portal, Holland's online application system, which works as Ucas does in the UK. "It didn't take very long to apply, there was no personal statement, and less of a competition element at Dutch universities," Josh reports. "I read somewhere it's designed like that to give a chance to a variety of students. Now I'm just waiting to hear back."
For Josh, the once pipe-dream idea of studying abroad is now seeming more realistic. "At the beginning, the prospect was slightly daunting. I thought it would be one of those ideas that gets forgotten, but now I've pushed myself, and the idea is becoming more exciting," he says. Back in the UK, he received offers from Birmingham, Manchester, Swansea and East Anglia universities, but is still waiting to hear from the London School of Economics. "I check Ucas every other day," he says. "They haven't rejected me yet! I have heard LSE can take longer to respond than other universities."
Josh, who lives with his 15-year-old brother, who wants to join the RAF, his dad, a carpenter, and mum, who works for an aerospace company, is turning towards revision. "The week before half term was focused on coursework, but now my drafts for English and history are in, so it's all revision at the moment," he says.
Any spare time is filled with university visits. Josh attended an open day at Manchester in the middle of February to check out its accommodation and course facilities. "It was useful and I got to speak to current students about the options in my degree, like studying a language," he says. "I have a subject day at Birmingham coming up too."
But money issues are also starting to come into focus. If he starts uni this autumn, Josh will be part of the last cohort to pay the current, lower university fees. "An information evening at my sixth form cleared up some issues about the new fees and confirmed that our year group will not be affected," he says. "But I do feel tuition fees are not fair on students. People complain about paying for us students, but we will actually end up contributing more to the economy through higher taxes for things like healthcare and mass education."
Josh is worried for next year's students, explaining: "My main concern is about the creation of a two-tier university system, with cheaper but poorer quality universities for poorer students, while students from more privileged backgrounds can go to the more expensive, elite universities."
All the talk about the fight for university places being harder than ever this year – with more demand but the same number of places as last year – is also making this sixth-former feel akin to a circus performer. "I've been aiming to get into university for many years, making sure I get good grades, do well in school, be involved, undertake work experience and all sorts of extra-curricular activities and all I've seen while doing this is more and more hoops being put in for students to jump though," he says. "I'm not saying getting into university should be easy, but students are doing so much more than previous generations had to do."
After all that hard work, Josh wants to take time out to relax this summer. "Friends are talking about various things, but nothing concrete has been decided yet. I'm thinking of going around Europe for a few weeks, possibly visit a few countries and spend some time somewhere hot. But it all depends on what friends are doing, plus whether I'll be going to Holland or not."
For year 12 student Danielle Fox, 17, the prospect of starting uni is still more than a year away, but it's nonetheless starting to grow more important. "I've made a lot of enquiries to universities recently, including looking at Leeds University for Japanese studies as I love Japanese art, and Falmouth uni for an illustration course," says Danielle, who is studying a two-year BTec subsidiary diploma in art and design, plus photography A–level, at Plymouth Marine Academy. "Uni is a big topic for me. At school, we've been put into groups with a teacher to help us look at courses and the Ucas site. We want to know what we have ahead, and organise the directions we're going to take to help our studies."
Danielle is currently interested in studying art, illustration or Japanese culture. She's already concerned about the debt she'll face from the new, higher tuition fees if she starts university next year, which could be as much as £9,000 a year. She expects to have to take on part-time jobs to afford university, but doesn't want the financial side to determine her uni choices. "I haven't looked at any details about costs at the moment, because I want to work out which path to take and the universities I may go to before having to worry about the fees," she explains.
At college, Danielle is enjoying her art and photography classes most. "I'm looking forward to a sculptor coming in soon to help our class with our current project, designing a sculpture for the National Marine Aquarium [in Devon]," she says. "I'm enjoying my A-levels – they're challenging, but I think I will pass with the right help."
She, too, is looking ahead to the summer, and hoping to take her first holiday with friends. "We're planning to take a trip out of Plymouth, staying somewhere on a caravan site for a week," she says. "We want to learn to be more independent so we've started saving up."
University technology colleges, the 'nappy curriculum' and Oxbridge admissions
Kenneth Baker's University Technical Colleges (Service with a smile, 1 March) will be no more successful than his long-forgotten CTCs and for the same reason that technical schools never amounted to more than 4% of all postwar secondary schools: because technical education is expensive and employers are unwilling to pay for it. When they did require apprentices, employers shared the cost with day release to FE colleges. In those days of full male employment, completion of apprenticeship guaranteed employment. Modern apprenticeships carry no such guarantee. Such realities go unrecognised by Baker and Gove, who seek to recreate an ideal postwar world in which all knew their place with Platonic divisions between men of gold, silver and bronze.
Patrick Ainley
University of Greenwich
• The UTC principles are alive and kicking in the form of FE colleges, which have been working in partnership with schools to deliver education and training to 14- to 16-year-olds successfully for some years. Why reinvent the wheel?
Phoenix50 via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Sceptics about the Early Years Foundation Scheme (EYFS) could hardly have asked for a more compelling corroboration of their concerns than was contained in Dorothy Lepkowska's eulogy ("Why I was wrong about the nappy curriculum", 1 March). The EYFS has led parents to believe – quite erroneously – that it is appropriate for young children to be relentlessly observed and assessed. The spectacle of "folders" of a baby's "work", and a 10-month-old child being labelled as "musical and a problem solver" illustrate just how much damage this adult-centric ideology is perpetrating.
Margaret Edgington (early years consultant/trainer); Dr Richard House (Roehampton University); Kim Simpson (The Montessori Studio)
• By contrast with Dorothy Lepkowksa I discovered with some surprise that I wasn't one bit fussed about the Early Years Foundation Stage (EYFS) when it came to childcare for my son. I had thought that Ofsted's opinion would loom large. In fact, we chose a childminder with years of experience who'd brought up five children of her own, and is rated just "satisfactory" by Ofsted. She has no inclination to fill out diaries detailing daily observations according to EYFS criteria. Instead – revolutionary thought – we have a little chat about our son's day at pick-up time. I don't want my son to be whisked from one carefully evaluated activity to the next. I want him to be somewhere emotionally warm, attentive and fun where there's structure, discipline and a lot of freedom.
Louise Tickle
Woodchester, Gloucestershire
Last week David Clifford argued that universities should not be scolded for their lack of poorer students when government policy deters such students from applying
Last year, about 17,000 people applied to Oxford for about 3,200 places. Around 34,000 that year got AAA or better at A-level. Of this group of 34,000 (eligible candidates, we'll call them), about 20% will get a place at Oxbridge. Around 33% of the total are from independent schools. Since independent sector students account for only 7% of the population, it is no wonder that they receive disproportionately more places. The fact that there's such a disproportionately high level of attainment in independent schools isn't Oxbridge's fault. Government attempts to blame universities for the failings of the state system, and the failure of politicians to do anything about it, is hypocritical in the extreme.
logopolis via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Teachers give their verdict on the first episode of Jamie Oliver's new venture, getting accomplished public figures to teach young people who have given up on education
Jamie Oliver might not be everyone's cup of tea, but it's hard to fault his enthusiasm. His efforts to revolutionise school dinners, coax the British into cooking healthy food and get young people from disadvantaged backgrounds into employment through his Fifteen restaurants have turned the TV chef into something of a national treasure. His latest mission is to persuade 20 teenagers who left school without GCSEs to give education a second chance.
Jamie's Dream School brings together some of Britain's most accomplished people, including Andrew Motion and the athlete Daley Thompson. The brief? To deliver inspiring, engaging lessons to young people who have given up on education.
Episode 1, featuring lessons from the actor Simon Callow, scientist Robert Winston, yachtswoman Ellen MacArthur, artist Rolf Harris and the historian David Starkey (who called one of the students fat) was aired last week. Here, teachers give their verdict:
Rebecca Malone, head of English, Bennett Memorial Diocesan school, Tunbridge Wells, Kent
I was expecting Jamie's Dream School to take another pop at the profession, but it demonstrated why good teachers are such talented, good-humoured and skilled people. Jamie's teachers may have fantastic subject knowledge, but they haven't been trained and some of them would have certainly benefited from this before being exposed to a class of their own.
Wayne Redmond, maths teacher, Babington Community college, Leicester. He is also involved in Train to Teach, a government initiative to recruit more teachers
It was good to see passionate, accomplished people trying to inspire those without passion, but this was a showpiece. It wasn't anything like a school – it was just big fun party time, like Celebrity Big Brother or The X Factor.
I suspect the way the programme was edited made the students' behaviour seem worse than it was. While most teachers would recognise that kind of attitude, it's certainly not representative of what goes on in schools every day.
Jo Shuter is headteacher of Quintin Kynaston school in London
I love Jamie Oliver, but this programme made me really angry. What makes him think he has the right to play with children's lives like this? These young people may have been failed by the system, but it felt like the public were voyeurs watching a load of chimpanzees, waiting for them to misbehave. If Jamie wants to understand inspirational teaching, there are many headteachers who could help. If he wants to use his wealth to help with charitable causes, there are much better ways of doing it. I'm trying to set up a hostel for the homeless at my school. I'd welcome a couple of hundred thousand for that.
Sean Bradley, law teacher, Gloucester college
It was good to see the celebrities struggling. Teaching can be a tough job and it's good for the public to see that. My only disappointment was that Jamie didn't get involved with any of the teaching. He had the best rapport with the kids and I'm sure he would have made a really good job of it.
Catherine Bourne, assistant headteacher at Mascalls school, Paddock Wood, Kent
I was irritated by the programme because it was yet another example of young people being stereotyped negatively. There are many enthusiastic students in schools who want to do well, but this is never celebrated in the media.
The assumption was: bring a load of middle-class white males, middle-aged and beyond, and expect young people to listen to them, just because of who they are. It doesn't work like that; as a teacher, you have to earn children's respect.
People have praised Jamie for his rapport with the kids, but it's much easier to do that if you can slouch around in jeans and talk mockney to them.
Katharine Birbalsingh is a teacher and author of To Miss With Love, an account of life as a teacher in an inner-city school
The very first episode of Jamie's Dream School unwittingly exposed precisely what is wrong with our education system. David Starkey made a grave mistake at the start: he tried to be cool and hip. No doubt remembering how teachers behaved in his day, he called one of his pupils fat. The pupil hit back with venom, and was then lost for the rest of the lesson, and possibly forever.
Jamie and John D'Abbro, the headteacher, talked of possible disciplinary action and how to get Starkey to realise that his behaviour was unacceptable. But what about the pupil's reaction?
Starkey was wrong, there is no doubt. But for it not to occur to anyone that these pupils needed a conversation on how one should always show one's teacher respect, that one should always try to turn the other cheek … it is indicative of what is wrong with modern Britain.
Martin Waller, year 2 teacher at Holy Trinity Rosehill primary school, Stockton-on-Tees
The programme made some important points about teaching; it's not just about knowing your subject. You have to be able to engage children, and get them excited about learning. Rolf Harris was the most successful at this. He was the only celebrity "teacher" I heard calling a student by their name.
Starkey's attitude was shocking. There is never any excuse for ridicule.
Jane Waters, English teacher, Gravesend Grammar school
At the very least, the programme provides insight into how difficult it is to maintain a calm environment when faced with mutiny. My 12-year-old son said he had never seen such behaviour from fellow pupils, nor had he seen such bad teaching.
David Weston, maths and physics teacher, Watford Grammar school for boys
The programme clearly showed what heroes teachers are, day in, day out. When David Starkey's lesson didn't go well he put the blame completely on the students. As a real teacher, you can't do that. You have to take responsibility for your own actions. You can't just give up on your students, even when they are really testing.
James Williams, lecturer in science education, University of Sussex
Michael Gove wants to get teacher training back into schools and for all teachers to have at least 2:2 degrees, but Jamie's Dream School showed exactly why he is wrong. Seeing the celebrities trying their hand at teaching highlighted the fact that good subject knowledge alone is not enough. Of the four celebrity teachers featured in episode 1, I'd offer Rolf Harris and Robert Winston a place on a teacher training course. Winston had put a lot of thought into how he might engage the students, and Harris was able to analyse what went wrong and what he could have done better. I'd need to see more of Callow in action, but Starkey, I'm afraid, would not be offered a place.
Sunglasses have their uses, but research shows they are becoming much more important in western culture as a cool accessory suggesting power, prestige and mystique
There can't be many connections between Lady Gaga, Andy Warhol, the cows on yoghurt adverts and Father Christmas. But here's one: they've all been spotted wearing sunglasses and analysed by Vanessa Brown, senior lecturer in design and visual culture at Nottingham Trent University, as part of her theory into the "coolness" of shades and why we wear them. It's not, she can report, just to keep the sun out of our eyes.
A trip to the supermarket was the inspiration for Brown's research. "On the way home after decorating my new flat, I stopped at a supermarket to buy a pint of milk," she says. "I was wearing old painting clothes and was generally a bit of a state, so as I left the car I grabbed my sunglasses from the dashboard. But when I approached the store I caught sight of myself reflected in the glass façade, and realised I looked quite cool.
"Whether I did or not is obviously debatable, but it struck me how odd it was that the mere addition of one accessory could transform my perception of myself."
Brown has always been interested in the meanings of objects and their cultural values – she has previously studied Tupperware and the idea of the housewife – so "sunglasses seemed like an ideal next project", she says.
With the help of the British Optical Association and the curator of its museum, Brown began searching through thousands of images, adverts, films, fashion photographs, documentary photographs and optical industry journals to investigate the symbolism of shades. "I found that sunglasses were always strongly associated with the glamour and power of modern technology, control of emotion, control of the body and control of interactions with others," says Brown.
She then started to analyse the link between the wearing of sunglasses and the broader phenomenon of "what it is to be cool". Brown, who is 40, explains: "Sunglasses are appealing because they connote coolness, which is used to sell almost everything." That was obvious from the sunglass-wearing cows in the yoghurt ad. "Some other researchers say coolness is emerging as the highest value in western society," she adds. "This can be seen as a very worrying and profoundly antisocial shift, as cool characters display lack of concern for others, lack of respect for authority or social convention, and a focus on style above all else."
However, Brown's research suggests that cool, sunglass-wearing heroes and villains are not so worrying. The shades represent their composure, their "self-possession in the face of seemingly overwhelming forces", she explains. "This resonates with experiences many of us share – we're increasingly alienated from work, each other and the natural world, increasingly aware of financial, medical, environmental risk and increasingly faced with identity choices. By shading the eyes, we can appear detached from the chaos, either frankly unbothered by, or utterly on top of, the frantic pace of technology and fashion.
"Sunglasses, by covering those vulnerable eyes and implying that connection with sleek engineering and glossy surfaces, make it easier to pull off a truly cool demeanour." Brown says her research has highlighted the proliferation of sunglasses in DVD covers, music videos, fashion images and adverts. "There are thousands of examples of sunglasses being used in visual culture as a key prop," she says.
"Increasingly, images of shaded eyes are used to sell products by suggesting power and prestige. They are perfect visual copy, suggesting mystique and self-possession as well as the glamour of being immersed in light."
Lady Gaga, says Brown, uses sunglasses to suggest her chameleon, avant-garde identity. She also points out that people buy sunglasses for their avatars to wear in the online game Second Life – where there is no sun. "They experience their idealised, more glamorous identity in Second Life from behind another glass barrier which hides the 'real' them – their computer screen," Brown explains. "My research demonstrates how many challenging aspects of modern life are negotiable through the shading of the eye."
Back in the real world, other sunglass-wearers that came under Brown's scrutiny include the jazz musician Miles Davis, "who decided to wear shades to avoid eye contact with racists and squares", and Andy Warhol who, Brown says, used sunglasses "as a means of glamorous detachment".
As for the fashionista, often shrouded in big sunglasses à la Vogue editor Anna Wintour, Brown says this represents disdain for others and being "unmoved" by the latest shocking model to strut down the catwalk. "Sunglasses also reflect light – which itself has been a metaphor for modernity, as in 'enlightenment'," she adds. "But that reflecting light also represents the success of modern celebrity and glamour – either flashbulbs, studio lights or the sun of exotic holidays."
Brown dismisses criticism that the value of her research on sunglasses could be questioned. "The study of fashion and popular culture is always open to question because it appears to address the less serious issues of life," she says. "But my dedication to studying popular cultural images and objects comes from a conviction that the things that people do 'without thinking' are the most telling about their fears, desires, motivations and concerns."
McGonagall and McIntyre, two of Scotland's 'persistent bad poets', are remembered with new public recitals
There's news about the bad poet William Topaz McGonagall. It's of absolutely no importance, but of great and goofy enjoyment to many in the English-speaking world. Several poems that have never been published in any book will soon be recited in public for the first time in more than 100 years, and maybe ever.
McGonagall, born in Edinburgh, lived much of his life in Dundee, by the river Tay. His most famous poem is called The Tay Bridge Disaster. One cannot help but try to admire the opening lines:
"Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ryTay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been takenaway
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a verylong time."
McGonagall fashioned other poems of comparable quality and worth. Many of them praise cities (The Beautiful City of Perth), towns (Beautiful North Berwick), villages (Beautiful Monikie), products (Sunlight Soap) or people (Lines in Praise of Mr J Graham Henderson, Hawick) that the poet hoped would be moved to give him money. Audiences often chose, instead, to pelt him with peas.
Scotland must take credit for producing – at almost the same moment – two of the world's most persistent bad poets.
In 1828, three years after McGonagall was born, the town of Forres welcomed a newborn named James McIntyre. McIntyre moved to Canada, where he milked, churned and ripened the poems that eventually got him known as The Cheese Poet. McIntyre's most famous is called Ode on the Mammoth Cheese – Weight over seven thousand pounds. It begins:
"We have seen thee, queen of cheese,
Lying quietly at your ease,
Gently fanned by evening breeze,
Thy fair form no flies dare seize."
McIntyre produced many other poems of comparable quality and importance, among them: Hints to Cheese Makers; Fertile Lands and Mammoth Cheese; and Prophecy of a Ten Ton Cheese. He died in 1906, again following McGonagall by a very few years.
The neglected McGonagall poems will be revealed on 19 March at the University of Dundee. Steve Farrar, who researches and writes materials for Scottish historic sites, recently happened upon them. Norman Watson, author of a new book called Poet McGonagall: The Biography of William McGonagall, also will take part in the Dundee ceremony. At evening's end, all will rise, and together declaim the concluding lines of The Tay Bridge Disaster.
That will be the highlight of the final event of this year's Ig Nobel Tour of the UK, from 13-19 March.
A month later, at the Edinburgh Science Festival, the other poems will be given their modern premiere, followed by a walk to Greyfriars Kirkyard, where McGonagall is buried. His nearest neighbour, for eternity, is Walter Geike (1735-1837).
A plaque next to McGonagall's explains that Geike is deaf.
• Marc Abrahams is editor of the bimonthly Annals of Improbable Research and organiser of the Ig Nobel prize For information about the Ig Nobel Tour of the UK go to http://improbable.com/improbable-research-shows/ig-uk-tour
Study shows little difference in work prospects for poorer children who attend grammar schools and comprehensives
Working-class children are no more likely to move up the social ladder and hold a middle-class job if they attend a grammar school, rather than a comprehensive, a study has found.
Researchers at the universities of Oxford and Bath Spa used data from the National Child Development Survey, which has tracked thousands of adults now aged 53, since they were born.
The academics took a sample of more than 3,300 adults, a third had attended comprehensive schools, a quarter had gone to grammar schools and two-fifths had been educated in a secondary modern.
They compared the jobs the adults did at the age of 33 with the work their fathers had done 17 years earlier – when the adults were 16 – and analysed the results to see whether the adults had climbed the social ladder.
The researchers also looked at the salaries the adults earned at age 33 and compared these to how much their fathers had earned 17 years earlier, having converted this into today's figures.
All those in the sample had sat a test to measure their academic ability at the age of 11. This enabled the researchers to compare what difference going to a grammar, comprehensive or secondary modern makes in terms of earnings and social status for adults of a similar ability.
The study, which appears in the latest edition of the British Journal of Sociology, found children from working-class homes were no more likely to move up the social ladder if they went to a grammar school rather than a comprehensive. Attending a grammar school did improve a working-class child's chance of earning slightly more than their parents. But children from middle-class homes, who went to grammar schools, also earned slightly more than their parents had done.
However, across the sample, the advantages of going to a grammar school were cancelled out by the social disadvantages experienced by those who went to secondary moderns. These adults did not have a different social class or earning power to their fathers.
Vikki Boliver, a sociology lecturer at Bath Spa, said many "bemoan the introduction of the comprehensive school as depriving academically able children of a crucial ladder of opportunity. Our analysis provides a more rounded approach."
Her co-author, Adam Swift, a politics lecturer at Oxford, said that grammar schools "confer no more advantage" to working-class children than to those from slightly more wealthy backgrounds.
• This article was amended on 8 March 2011. The original referred to Vicki Boliver. This has been corrected.
Peter Wilby speaks to Kenneth Baker, who has an ambitious plan to revolutionise education with new university technical colleges
The hair is greyer, the voice a touch fainter, the figure somewhat paunchier, but Kenneth Baker is back. No secretary of state in the last 50 years has left his stamp on education as decisively as Baker during Thatcherism's high noon in the 1980s. He can be credited with – or blamed for, depending on your taste – the national curriculum, tests, league tables, delegation of budgets to heads and governors, parental choice, academies (then called city technology colleges), student loans, expansion of universities to admit a third of the age group, and the whole idea that schools should be "set free" from local authority control.
Rather hubristically, he christened the legislative centrepiece of his programme the Great Education Reform Bill (the sceptics preferred Gerbil), echoing the Great Reform Act of 1832, which set Britain on the road to democracy. He even, like saints, had days named after him: the five annual "Baker days" for in-service teacher training. When he started at the education department, he hit the ground running. For a time, he was a hot tip for prime minister. "I have seen the future and it smirks," said one wag. Baker in those days always seemed to be smiling. Asked why, he once replied: "I can't help it. It's the shape of my face."
Now 76 and transmuted into Lord Baker of Dorking, he is smiling again as – in his office at 4 Millbank, a few yards from the houses of parliament and with ITN just across the corridor – he outlines his latest vision for English education. He is reviving the long-forgotten technical schools, which were enshrined, alongside grammar schools, in the 1944 Education Act, but which never got off the ground. They will be grandly, if rather confusingly, called university technical colleges (UTCs). One has already opened in Staffordshire – across the road from its sponsor, the big machinery maker JCB – and Baker has government support and funding to set up another 15. But that's just the start. "I want a hundred by 2015," Baker says. "After about 10 years, there will probably be 200 to 300." At the minimum, the initial costs will be £3m each. To hear Baker talk, you'd think the words "deficit reduction" had never been uttered; his fellow ministers used to say he was never knowingly underbid in public spending rounds. He has no truck with suggestions that the colleges are experimental. "This has become a movement," he proclaims.
He developed the idea four years ago with the late Sir Ron Dearing, who had chaired several government committees on education, and it first got approval from Labour's Lord (Andrew) Adonis, then schools minister. The colleges, for 14- to 19-year-olds, will teach engineering, product design, health sciences, construction, environmental services and food technology – in short, anything that requires practical skills and specialised equipment – with employers asked to name specialisms that will be of most value locally. But pupils will also do English, maths and science, as well as humanities and foreign languages, though these will be, Baker explains, "German for business, the history of engineering, that kind of thing". A third strand will involve "bridging subjects" such as IT and starting a business. A special tech baccalaureate is being designed as an equivalent to the English baccalaureate that Michael Gove, the education secretary, now requires other state schools to aim for. To cram all this in, along with 40-80 days' work experience a year, students will attend nine hours a day, 40 weeks a year. "That way," says Baker, "we shall gain a whole extra teaching year over a five-year period."
If anybody thinks Baker's scheme could eventually unravel comprehensive education, they would be right. The UTCs will be non-selective – "the pupils select themselves," says Baker – but he is clear about his wider vision. Up to 14, he says, children should have "a shared experience", with a "fairly prescriptive national curriculum". After 14, they should move on to four different pathways, taught in separate schools: grammar, technical, vocational (things that train you for jobs, such as beauty, fashion and floristry, but don't necessarily involve working with your hands) and artistic. Age 11 is too early for such large choices, Baker argues, but 16 too late. "The educational world is going to realise that 14 should be the age of transfer."
Did he regret not bringing back grammar schools when he was education secretary? Baker gives a long, regretful sigh. "There was so much change going on in the education system, I could not have done that as well. I would have had such a row on my hands. I already had a teachers' pay dispute and I stopped them negotiating their salaries through their unions – by law. So it was very draconian stuff."
Baker was born in Newport, south Wales. He says he never felt the least bit Welsh nor, from what I could gather, the least bit Labour. Yet both his grandfathers were Welsh dockworkers and one – with whom he shared a bedroom for four years – became secretary of the local dockers' union, knew the Labour pioneers Keir Hardie and Ben Tillett, and could have become a Labour MP if he hadn't been poor. But the family was aspirational as well as Labour. The grandfather became a dockyard manager, while Baker's father entered the civil service. The latter's work took him to Twickenham in south-west London, Southport and then Twickenham again. After being educated in a Victorian state primary in Lancashire, followed by two years at grammar school, the young Kenneth found himself at St Paul's, one of London's poshest public schools. "I was very surprised at this translation," he wrote in his memoirs. He tells me: "It must have stretched my father very, very much to pay the fees. But he was always very keen on getting on to the next stage." After national service, he read history at Oxford – the first member of his family to attend university – and became president of the university Conservative Association and secretary of the Oxford Union.
He went into industry, working first for Shell and later becoming chief executive of a clothing company that supplied Marks and Spencer and "which I saved from bankruptcy". But he also became a Tory councillor in Twickenham and, in 1968, an MP. Though he lost his seat in 1970, he got another almost immediately. He then remained continuously in the Commons until 1997.
What made him a Conservative? "It wasn't self-interest. Not at all. I'd read a lot of JS Mill and I was interested in what he said about liberty. Labour seemed too prescriptive. Joining the Conservatives was not a class thing. It was very much the philosophy." This is a characteristic Baker answer, seeming to address the question without revealing anything much at all. His memoirs are wholly uninformative about his motivations and, though called The Turbulent Years, make the Thatcher governments sound about as turbulent as a drizzly morning in Dorking. Baker is a doer, not a thinker.
By the time he arrived at the education department, he already had a track record as a minister who pushed through big projects. Though he got on the first rung of the ministerial ladder in 1972, joining the civil service department under Ted Heath's government, his career stalled after Heath's fall in 1975, because Margaret Thatcher thought him too close to the wet Tory left. He carefully repositioned himself. "I never became a Thatcherite," he says, "but I moved to right of centre." He finally got another frontbench position in 1981, writing his own job specification for minister for information technology, a new post for something most politicians then regarded as mysterious and exotic. He started the cabling of Britain and launched the first major privatisation (British Telecom) before, as local government minister, he abolished the Greater London Council and, less auspiciously, put out a green paper proposing a flat-rate "community charge", which eventually became the much-hated poll tax. Then, as environment secretary, he launched another privatisation, this time of water.
It was a formidable ministerial record, achieved in just five years, and it hardly suggested hesitancy about the merits of Thatcherism. At education, he did not entirely follow the recommendations of the Thatcherite thinktanks, but he went about as far as was practicable. His predecessor, the late Keith Joseph, was thought sounder ideologically, but a ditherer. "Keith held seminars from morning till night," recalls Nick Stuart, a senior civil servant at the time. "Baker came in and said we were going to do this, this and this, and we should get on with it. If we wanted more money, he said, he would go to Thatcher and get it." He was as good as his word. Private sponsors, he announced, would pay half the money for city technology colleges. When they failed to do so, Baker compelled a protesting Treasury to meet the shortfall. He got his policies so emphatically laid out in the 1987 election manifesto that U-turns were unthinkable.
Most of his policies were bitterly contested, but none more so than the national curriculum. Thatcher wanted to cover only maths, science and English, which Baker dismissed as "a sort of Gradgrind curriculum". Does he regret including so much prescriptive detail? "No, the only tests we had were at 16. There was nothing else. We were the only education system in the world like that, and we weren't the best. In some countries, you're tested every term." But the tests were too complicated? "They were done after I left. I would have had much simpler tests." So he has no regrets? "I should have extended the teaching day by at least one period. But I couldn't do that while settling the teachers' dispute."
The job done, Baker left the education department in 1989. Even admirers thought he was too eager to move on. Good at starting things, he showed little interest in consolidating. His move to the Tory party chairmanship killed his prospects of the premiership. This supposedly astute politician failed to spot that Thatcher was on the slide. Compelled by his position to remain loyal, his star waned with hers. John Major gave him the Home Office job, but he didn't enjoy it because, he says, "I couldn't change anything as I did at education". Plagued by prison riots, IRA breakouts, illegal deportations, verdicts that found him in contempt of court, and over-hasty legislation on dogs, he acquired a reputation – as home secretaries often do – for being accident-prone. Offered the Welsh office after the 1992 election, he returned to the backbenches.
No wonder he wants one last big education project, recalling his glory years of the 1980s. "The UTCs are taking off much faster than city technology colleges," he enthuses. "Parents love them. The first one was over-subscribed for its first year and it will be heavily over-subscribed next year. Employers love them. Jaguar, Rolls-Royce, National Grid, British Aerospace, Siemens, Toyota all want to support them. I don't feel I'm swimming against the tide, as I often did in the 1980s."
Would he have sent his own children to these schools? "If I'd had a son who was technical, I'd have sent him to the one in Staffordshire. No doubt about it. We'll get spectacular results and the students will definitely get to university. I'll take an absolute bet with you or anybody that our GCSE results will be much higher than those of other local schools. This is going to be the answer to all the mistakes we've made in English education."
My eyes half close – Baker's relentless enthusiasm can become a little wearying – and for an instant I think we are back in the 1980s, with Thatcher still in Downing Street. But if the occupant of Number 10 has changed, Baker hasn't. Now, as then, he is the best salesman in the business. Whether it's snake-oil he's selling, we shall eventually discover.
The 'nappy curriculum' - assessing the under-fives - seemed like a ridiculous idea to Dorothy Lepkowska, until she had a child of her own
Some mornings in our house are more exciting than others, and Mondays and Fridays are particularly so since our one-year-old daughter realised that being up and dressed early usually means one thing – it's nursery day.
Like every other setting in the country, hers follows the Early Years Foundation Stage. Launched in September 2008 amid huge controversy, and dubbed the "nappy curriculum" by the media, it requires every child to leave their early-years setting "ready for school", having successfully met 69 learning objectives. Last summer, barely two years since its implementation, a top-level review was ordered by the coalition to advise ministers on whether it should continue, and in what form.
The eminent academics and child development experts who were against the EYFS are no doubt delighted that it may be nearing the end of its natural life so soon, and until fairly recently I would have agreed with them. They had argued that, far from enhancing the development and education of children, the EYFS might actually harm them. Boys in particular, who tend to develop more slowly than girls, would be labelled as failures before they had even stepped into a classroom. Babies and toddlers needed to play; to develop dexterity, to learn to share and to socialise – not to endure a continuous stream of observations and assessments.
An image was created of childminders and nursery staff following babies and toddlers with a clipboard, ticking off that they had managed to throw a ball in the air, could hold a paintbrush or were sharing their toys nicely. When the campaigners launched a Downing Street petition, it attracted 8,000 signatures within weeks. The evidence and sheer level of opposition from the profession seemed overwhelmingly stacked in their favour. Completely convinced by their argument I, too, signed it.
But then I became a parent.
Our daughter, Daria, was eight months old when she began attending nursery. It was clear from very early on in her life that she loved being with people and around other children, and by September last year we decided it was time she took her first independent steps away from us.
My husband and I feared choosing a nursery was going to be difficult, but it was easier than we'd imagined. The fact that every setting has to do the EYFS by law was a great leveller. During our visits, staff were eager to show us children's folders, all neatly labelled and headed under different developmental and chronological stages. The EYFS was absolutely at the heart of everything they did. The record-keeping was meticulous, clear and easy to follow, and there was something comforting about knowing that whichever setting we chose for Daria, a similar structure would be in place. She was not going to be disadvantaged because staff at one nursery would be doing less with her than another down the road.
In the end, we chose Toad Hall Day Nursery, in Bicester, which not only felt right for her from our very first visit, but had also been judged outstanding in every category following the most recent Ofsted inspection – the only one in our town to have done so. Just as I had been opposed to the EYFS, I always thought I'd look beyond an Ofsted report when choosing a nursery or a school. But when presented with a choice, what parent would not opt for the best setting possible for their child?
For the first two months we hardly gave the EYFS a second thought. What concerned us most was that our little girl was happy and had settled in well. Periodically, staff sent home a questionnaire asking us to update them on any particular interests or activities she enjoyed doing, so they could organise her time at nursery effectively. This is harder than it sounds. When you're with a child constantly, it's easy not to attach any great significance to subtle changes in behaviour – like the once-favourite toy cast aside for another or that Miss Molly's sick dolly now elicits a bigger smile than the wheels on the bus going round. Quite rightly, though, there was an expectation by the nursery that we would work in partnership with them on bringing out the best in our child.
It wasn't until the first parents' evening last November that reality hit home and, actually, with quite a thud. We wondered what on earth staff were going to talk to us about. Daria had been there two months and was only 10 months old. It was exciting and nerve-racking all at once. But there, beautifully presented, was a folder of our daughter's "work": finger and table paintings and photographs of her playing and taking part in activities, with notes and comments on her reactions and progress. There were pictures of her in fancy dress at Halloween and on Children in Need day, and even some of her playing on her tummy – something she hated doing. It was a revelation, and a wonderful insight into the part of Daria's life that was hers alone.
Her lead professional, Sarah, took us through the comments and explained some of the tasks. We were particularly pleased that the staff had spotted very early on that Daria is musical and a problem solver. Every observation was linked to a stage in her development and followed by recommendations for further activities to ensure that her progress continues and her interests are nurtured.
This level of painstaking information-gathering is undoubtedly burdensome for the nursery staff. Only they know if the time taken up with bureaucracy might be better spent giving attention to our daughter and her friends. Diane Clark, Toad Hall's manager, admitted the EYFS had created more paperwork than before, but said that, generally, it had had a positive impact on policy and practice and had led to consistency of delivery. In other words, it provided a framework that allowed progress to be tracked for the benefit of the child, the staff and parents.
Purely from a parent's perspective, that is certainly true. If nothing else, all the observations and analysis of our daughter's development should pick up, sooner rather than later, any signs of learning, behaviour or other problems, allowing early diagnosis and interventions to be put in place before she enters full-time education.
As for Daria, all the signs are that she will tell us in good time what she thinks of being observed and assessed if, indeed, she is aware this is happening.
• Is it time for campaigners against the EYFS to admit they were wrong? education.letters@guardian.co.uk
The perception of Cambridge as a university for the privileged is very difficult to overturn, argues David Clifford
The fallout from December's vote on tuition fees seems unlikely to settle. Universities are looking for ways to replace the 80% cut in their teaching budgets, and leading institutions are gradually lining up to announce their intention to ask for the full £9,000. The universities minister unabashedly encourages a supermarket-style of higher education, when he tells them they may look "rather silly" if students opt for the "budget" brand of university, revealing surprisingly little confidence in modern students' capacity to evaluate or discriminate.
His Lib Dem colleagues have also been taking turns to scold any institution angling towards the higher end of the scale. Nick Clegg, the deputy prime minister, reminded universities last month that permission to charge the highest amount would only be granted where they could show they were accessible to students from poorer backgrounds. His harshest criticism, inevitably, was directed at Cambridge and Oxford.
Twenty years ago, I might have been the kind of student Clegg had in mind. A bookish lad, with no family tradition of higher education, from a middling Essex comprehensive whose students rarely troubled themselves with fantasies of an offer from Oxbridge – those who did, and achieved them, could expect to see themselves in the local paper cradling an improbable stack of randomly selected books beneath an awkward grin.
That didn't happen to me, though I did eventually get into Cambridge. Not as an undergraduate – I teach here, and every December I sit opposite a few dozen anxious, bright, ambitious and usually delightful young people hoping to persuade me to include them among the English students my college will admit the following year.
The educational backgrounds of applicants interest me very little. You can't teach passion, and native intelligence is more likely to show itself in a flash of individuality than by any amount of coaching. It may be the case that the expensively educated have a greater share of self-confidence than their peers from the maintained sector, but interviewers can see through that. A good deal of effort goes into ensuring only the best applicants receive offers, regardless of where they were educated or the cost to their parents.
These applications, obviously, in no way reflect the fact that 93% of young people go to state schools, and 7% to independent schools. If we exclude overseas students, 35% of applicants to Cambridge in 2009 came from independent schools. But it must be worth asking what proportion of parents whose children go to state schools, compared with those who pay to send them to independent schools, expect them to go on to higher education. My guess is that this is where the biggest gap exists.
The fact is that Cambridge University does not disproportionately reject maintained-sector applicants. It does not proportionately receive them in the first place. But the perception of Cambridge as the university for the privileged is fiendishly hard to overturn, despite our admissions tutors' tours of state schools and open days, access programmes, generous bursaries and the efforts of schools liaison officers. Even the best state applicants hesitate to view Cambridge as the natural place for them to flourish, and if they apply elsewhere because of this, it's our loss as much as theirs. If we are to correct the imbalance at Cambridge, we need more exceptional state students to feel confident that they will fit in here.
The government's answer? That students regard their education as an investment rather than an expense, which may well be an everyday habit of mind for the wealthy who populate the cabinet. Not so for families with modest savings books and no tradition of higher education. It fails to acknowledge that a debt of £27,000 means something quite different to a household for whom this represents a gross annual salary rather than an agreeable shares dividend. It fails to observe that if £6,000 per student will cover, barely, what the government has sheared from the education budget, any requirement to enlarge bursaries must be met by other means. The government offers universities no other means, except the option to charge more than £6,000.
Punitive fees will make it harder than ever to attract the best state students to apply. And if they don't, we are hardly able to admit them. Cambridge has tried for years to attract more state students, precisely to correct the imbalance – with a little, if only a little, success. This will lurch sharply into reverse when even fewer state students apply. We will then witness the irony of the universities minister and the deputy prime minister telling us that we have failed, and probably fining us accordingly.
• David Clifford is a lecturer in English at Homerton College, Cambridge
UK universities would benefit by seeing themselves as European and participating fully in the Bologna process, says Peter Scott
The famously little-Englander headline "Fog in the Channel – Europe cut off" was a long time ago. But at times the Channel still seems almost as wide as the "pond", the description of the Atlantic favoured by enthusiasts for the Anglo-American "special relationship".
Certainly this is true of universities. From the rest of Europe we feel we have little to learn. Rather it is the other way round; slowly and uncertainly, other European universities are becoming more like us – more autonomous, more market-oriented and raising their academic game.
With the US, the opposite is true – uncritical, and somewhat skewed, admiration. Our admiration is uncritical because we fail to notice that, although the US has some of the world's best universities, it also has some of the worst (and the two are connected). It is skewed because we believe that the heartland of American higher education is its famous private universities – Harvard, Stanford, Princeton – when in fact it is to be found in the great state universities such as California, Michigan and Wisconsin (which, incidentally, charge lower fees to in-state students than the new £9,000 maximum set by the government here).
But back to Europe. We feel we are superior to most European universities in three ways. First, British universities are not part of state bureaucracies. They employ their own staff (although, in practice, pay and many key conditions are negotiated nationally), determine their own courses, curricula and awards (under the beady gaze of the Quality Assurance Agency) and own their buildings (and even maintain them and build new ones, when they can afford it).
Second, British universities are more enterprising, and even commercial. They have greater financial freedom – including, of course, the freedom to go bust. They have also been blown along by a pro-market wind that every UK government since 1979, including New Labour, has encouraged.
Finally, our universities are, well, just better. They feature much more prominently in global league tables of "top" universities. They are also not obliged to cram in everyone who has passed the baccalaureate, abitur or equivalent, but can choose which students to admit.
However, these supposed superiorities are frailer than they appear. They rely on outrageously anachronistic stereotypes of other European higher education systems. Most European systems have retained more vocationally directed, business-aligned and (possibly) closer-to-market institutions, like the higher professional schools in the Netherlands, a form of education that was abandoned 20 years ago in the UK when polytechnics became universities. While a binary system is not necessarily a good thing, because the comprehensive multi-faculty universities that now dominate UK higher education are probably more flexible and (potentially) entrepreneurial, it is a fact nevertheless.
Even the higher academic quality of UK universities may be exaggerated. League tables measure the effectiveness of global "brands" – and have a marked anglophone bias. But detailed subject-by-subject citation indices often show that our fellow Europeans are our equals and sometimes our superiors in high-quality scientific production.
As for student entry in practice, there is little difference. UK higher education, with 2.5 million students, is a mass system with higher participation rates than many European countries. Three out of four applicants find a place in the first Ucas round; many more do so eventually. In some key subjects, nearly every applicant is admitted. And, of course, there are highly selective institutions in Europe – notably the French grandes écoles.
If a gap does still exist between the UK and other European universities, it is narrowing rapidly. Across the Channel the Bologna process (which aims to create compatibility of degrees throughout Europe), now in its 12th year, has stimulated far-reaching reforms. And the Exzellenz initiative in Germany, which rewards high-achieving institutions with more funding, is probably just as effective as our over-complex research excellence framework. It is certainly lighter-touch. We should not forget, too, that many central and eastern European countries have been much more open to private higher education than the UK.
The Bologna process has also been used to create a powerful European higher education "brand". This model, which attempts to strike a balance between market responsiveness and the public good, is an attractive alternative to the US model. I even once heard the state commissioner for education in Wisconsin ask, only half in jest, how Wisconsin could join the Bologna process. Here we still tend to treat Bologna as a dry-as-dust administrative process concerned solely with course structures, diploma supplements (ie course transcripts) and harmonisation of quality assurance regimes. But we are in danger of missing the plot.
Perhaps we should recognise that we always have been and always will be Europeans and join in what is rapidly becoming a dynamic process. After all, the university was a European invention. Maybe we should participate more wholeheartedly in its reinvention, to which the UK has so much to contribute.
• Peter Scott is professor of higher education studies at the Institute of Education
Animals, glass domes and fountains feature prominently among your ideas for The School I'd Like
Five weeks ago we launched The School I'd Like, asking pupils what would make a perfect school. Hundreds of children have come up with ideas. Teachers have submitted class entries. Here are a few thoughts so far:
"My school would have bright, hippy colours on every wall and floor, and the carpet would be so soft and clean that someone could fall asleep on it. Also my students would not sit on hard, cheap chairs; they would be allowed to sit on comfy beanbags. In every classroom there would be a fountain and the room would not have boring, old, cream walls – they will be domes made out of glass. In the corridors there would be rainbow-coloured walls that have been painted by the students."
Sophie Houghton-Hinks, age 12, year 7, St Mary's Catholic combined school, Dorset
"The greatest fault in schools nowadays is the frequent lack of competitive sports – but we can change this. There is strong evidence that most sport coaches just aren't good enough these days, so I propose that top sport stars like Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt can come in and knock us back into shape. In addition to this, we could always go to see football matches and the Olympics to see our fabulous coaches in action and to pick up their valuable skills and techniques, too. Why wouldn't you want this for any of our younger generation?"
Joseph Paskiewicz, age 11, year 6, Lyminge primary school, Kent
"We are a secondary special needs school for students with severe and profound learning difficulties. Our student council recently went out for lunch. These are some of the ideas we came up with:
• Wear our own clothes once a month
• Music in the corridors throughout the day
• Sit on beanbags on floor rather than always at tables on a chair
• Sit with friends to eat lunch rather than my class
• Different mood lighting in classrooms."
Najeeb, Naomi, Danny, Daniel, Mason, Ben, Sean and Trevel, Marlborough school, Kent
"I would like a flying school. Let's say we are learning about India. We would fly there and ask people questions."
Telmo, age 10, year 5, Stockwell primary school, London
"My idea is to invite celebrities to school to teach us their talents."
Bruno, age 10, year 5, Stockwell primary school, London
"Bring dogs to school in case we need a friend."
Maya, age six, year 2, Stockwell primary school, London
"If everyone gets more fresh air, they might concentrate better and if there is a school football team for every year, then nobody will feel left out. If there are chairs in assembly for every year, no one will have to sit on the hard floor. Finally, if we could choose if we want to wear school uniform I think it will make children a lot happier."
Ethan Carrick, age 9, year 4, Turners Hill Church of England primary school, West Sussex
"I think personalised learning is the way forward. I love the thought of having my own timetable that is planned just for me. It would create a generation of socially comfortable and intelligent students! Age would no longer be a problem and people would have friends from all across the school."
Linda Epstein, age 15, year 11, The Compton school, London
"I'd like the sort of school which has fascinating old buildings and cosy little classrooms with wooden bench desks. I want to learn in a building with soul, not the lifeless, faceless portable buildings equipped with nothing but an unreliable electric heater! I'd like the sort of school which has a variety of teachers ranging from the romantic old fools who get all doughy-eyed about literature to the new modern sort who are maths and science geeks and proud to be so."
Sam Sherburn, age 15, year 10, Queen Elizabeth's high school, Gainsborough
"It is my opinion that our school should provide us with iPads. Having an iPad will enable children to do almost everything interactively. We will be able to use it as a book, but also as a portable flat-screen computer. As an extra we will also be able to socialise even more by calling and sending emails to other children."
Ravi Shah, age 10, year 6, St Cedd's school, Essex
"We could have a farm at the school and the kids could look after the animals. They could milk the cows for milk to drink in the canteen; we could have scrambled eggs maybe, if the chickens lay eggs. The farm animals could calm down people who were angry or frustrated. Caring for animals could make the kids calmer and have more respect for animals. Farm work would give the kids physical exercise and help them keep much fitter. My school would teach us about values, which would help us in life."
Michael Anning, age 11, year 7, Hobart high school, Norfolk
"Some of my ideas are: pupils should prepare a welcome pack to schools for new pupils as well as the school, as children have different ideas to adults about what school is all about.
There should be a no-uniform party day for one day every year at every school in the UK, with a theme from a different culture each year to celebrate different ways of living in the world. That would be fun.
Schools should have an internet link-up scheme with schools from a different part of the EU to themselves so we can make friends with children from other EU countries to create an EU family feel. Then people would not feel so angry with each other as they would have made friends with some children from other parts of Europe already. That would help us to learn languages, too.
Schools should have at least an apple tree each.
Eleanor Randall, age 10, year 5, St Anne's school, Chelmsford, Essex
"My dream school would have: swimming with dolphins, school spa, go karting, sky diving, glass dome to look out of, juice fountain, iPads fitted into desks, dimmer lights, school cinema room for a treat, Total Wipeout track, lots and lots of cushions."
Karamveer Kour, year 7, Balby Carr community sports and science college, Doncaster
"My ideal school ingredients: one tonne of an extraordinary school, a small pinch of friendship, 100% of expected manners, 10lbs of smiley faces, 20 litres of superior teachers, 99ml of good children, nine grams of fair competition, a cup of phenomenal clubs."
Josh Abraham, age 8, year 4, St Cedd's school, Essex
"The school I'd like would be where everyone's equal, and everybody's respected and their voices are heard."
Kathryn Lagan, age 12, year 7, St Mary's Catholic combined school, Dorset
New rules on research funding will force academics to prove the impact of their work outside their own university
Since the introduction of the research assessment exercise (RAE), an evaluation carried out on behalf of the four UK funding councils every five years, academics have had to do a lot more form-filling to secure funding for future research. Its replacement, the research excellence framework (REF), due to be rolled out in 2013, could make that burden even heavier, putting them under pressure to source hard-to-find data.
Most controversial is the proposal to judge the quality of research based on its impact outside of academic circles. While academics have always been accountable to funding bodies, under new rules announced on behalf of the Higher Education Funding Council for England (Hefce) today, university departments will also have to provide case studies proving the impact of their work beyond their institution. This might include public outreach or details of how a particular piece of work is helping the wider community, for example through medical science.
In the new framework, different weight is given to the three main elements on which research quality is assessed – output (65%), environment (15%) and, now, impact (20%.) The weight for "impact" was originally set to be 25%, but this was reduced after concerns voiced by the academic community.
REF's original implementation date was delayed a year after the universities and science minister, David Willetts, expressed doubt over the use of case studies to judge the impact of research. But after a lengthy pilot exercise based on five different subject areas carried out last year, he is now convinced. "The results of the REF pilot exercises show it is possible to assess impact across a range of disciplines, while preserving academic integrity," he says. "It was right for HE funding bodies to wait until the evidence confirmed that the methodology was appropriate before reaching a decision."
Departments will now have to submit case studies using a standard template that will inform an "impact sub-profile" for each submission, which will rate the proportion of the submission at each level (1* to 4* and Unclassified – 4 is the highest). An overarching impact statement will outline impact within the department more broadly.
Under the guidelines announced today, seen exclusively by the Guardian, departments will have to provide one case study, plus another for every additional 10 academics, giving details of any research from the previous 15 years that makes an impact between 1 January 2008 and 31 July 2013 (panels will have the option to extend this period by five years). They will also have to show how the unit has supported and enabled impact during that time.
Case studies may include any social, economic or cultural impact, or benefit beyond academia underpinned by excellent research the university has done and they can be at any stage of development, so long as some change or benefit beyond academia has taken place during the assessment period. Future or potential impacts will not count.
Members of the panels judging research (http://www.hefce.ac.uk/research/ref/panels/) have just been announced and are already meeting to discuss and decide the criteria by which they will assess research quality in their discipline. More guidance for submissions is due in July, and details of each panel's criteria and methods should be published in January 2012 before academics start submitting their work in 2013. The results of the exercise are due in December 2014.
Last year's pilot exercise in five different disciplines – earth systems and environmental sciences, English language and literature, clinical medicine, physics, and social work and social policy – with departments submitted from a range of 29 universities. It helped to persuade a sceptical academic community of thepossibility of judging the impact of research.
Those in the arts and humanities were particularly dubious. The English pilot, however, worked more successfully than most, according to its chair, Professor Judy Simons. "Most of us on the panel were anxious about what the exercise would prove, but universities put in some really convincing case studies and showed us that departments had been engaging very heavily in outreach programmes and were able to marshal quite a lot of evidence," she says. "We were surprised by the variety of examples and the quality of evidence that people were able to provide.
"Inevitably, people are going to be nervous about something that's new and untried, but it gives an opportunity for applied research to be valued as highly in the REF, whereas it was felt to be marginalised in the RAE," Simons says. Including impact in the exercise will do a lot to promote the value of arts subjects to the national economy at a time of general funding cuts, she adds.
Professor Nigel Vincent, vice-president for research and higher education policy at the British Academy, says the 20% weighting represents a compromise and the number of case studies is "liveable with".
But panels need the latitude to keep criteria appropriate to their disciplines. "If they get that deciding power then it should work OK," he says. "The crucial litmus test will be when we see the draft criteria that come out for consultation in the summer, what different panels say and whether people in those subject areas feel they can live with that."
Vincent says universities, including his own, Manchester, are already drawing up impact case studies to see how they work.
David Sweeney, Hefce's research director, is sure the approach is the right one. "The released results from the pilot exercise showed we had successfully constructed [research quality] profiles and the exercise was a success. A consequence of the pilot is that the government and funders are trusting the academic and user communities, working together to take this exercise forward. It's in their hands to make this work."
The Guardian launches a new adult-free books website for children
How far can you trust children to choose their own reading? And, if left to their own devices, will they read at all? These perennially vexing questions have taken on a whole new complexity with the growth of the internet, and its reputation for increasing chatter and diminishing attention span. But research carried out for World Book Day suggests that a growing number of teenagers are using the new technologies not just to chat to friends but for serious reading. From a sample of 505 teens aged between 13 and 18, 40.8% had read a book on a computer, nearly one in five (17.2%) had read one on a mobile phone, and 13.3% on a Tablet or iPad.
Samantha Shipman, who manages the young persons branch of Liverpool's The Reader Organisation (a charity that aims to get people of all ages engaged with reading), says the internet can be a fantastic tool for young readers. "There is a great online resource of poetry, short stories and novels that children and young adults can access easily, cheaply, and enjoy. Anything that encourages young people to read is excellent in my eyes."
The full results of the World Book Day survey will be released on Thursday – the same day that the Guardian launches the first national newspaper books website devoted entirely to young readers.
The Children's Books website will be an adult-free zone, with contributions from an editorial panel of young people (known as curators) from all over the world. So far, 100 have signed up from as far afield as Peru and Egypt, and have been busily at work deciding which books they want to discuss and how to do it.
Our ad hoc research among these 100 pioneers, who we asked to name books they would like to see discussed on the site, paints an impressive picture of the range of their enthusiasms. Cairo, aged 10, who is Scottish but lives in Egypt, said: "My favourite author is Anthony Horowitz. I also like reading Biggles, Asterix, Tintin, the Broons and lots of Star Wars books." Luke, 13, from Nottingham, said: "My favourite modern authors are people like Stephen King, Bill Bryson, Chris Ryan, Andy McNab, Ian Rankin and John Grisham, although I do love classics by people such as Verne, Hugo, Dickens, Maupassant and Dumas. I won't even attempt to name my favourite book, it's impossible!"
The site will be divided into three reading "zones": seven and under, eight to 12 and 13-plus. The question of what to do about the under-sevens, many of whom can't be expected to write their own reviews, posed no problem to 13-year-old Kieran, from Norwich. As the oldest of six, he is used to reading to his younger brothers and sister and is looking forward to reporting their views.
Shipman sounds one note of caution: "If left to their own devices, many children wouldn't read, and that isn't because they dislike reading, it is because they don't recognise it as a worthwhile and enjoyable activity. Once we have got them reading for pleasure, we should trust young people to choose for themselves. It's when they are forced to read books they don't enjoy that they stop reading."
The children's website will be at guardian.co.uk/childrensbooks from Thursday. To get involved, or tell us what you think, email us on childrens.books@guardian.co.uk
Free schools and prisoners' right to vote
Last week, Warwick Mansell reported on the borough of Waltham Forest where the NUT says up to 10 new free schools may be planned, including seven faith schools
I find it incomprehensible that public money is planned to be used to provide premises and support for the establishment of so-called free schools (Ten new schools in one borough? 22 February).
Surely if a group of people wish to set up a school and run it their way (with orientation towards particular faiths, specialist capabilities or whatever) they should find all the funding to start it and run it. Where is the logic for public money being used by people not accountable to the public? Gove should scrap his so -called flagship policy and support and enhance the schools we have.
John Chubb
Cheltenham, Gloucester
• I view free schools very much as I do academies – likely to have a negative effect overall on the education provision within a borough. I'm sure I don't need to rehearse the reasons – lack of accountability, effect on admissions procedures, impact on other schools etc. But in my own area I find myself reluctantly drawn to support an initiative to set up a free school. Why? Because there is no state provision. Wokingham Borough Council closed the local comprehensive, Ryeish Green, in 2010, as rolls were falling. Now the children in a group of widely spread villages are expected to travel miles to schools in other parts of the borough.
The group behind the initiative want to set up their free school on the site of the closed comprehensive. They are simply parents who want a local, community-based school. I have every sympathy with them.
Marjory Bisset
Shinfield, Reading, Berkshire
• It seems it is not just children of different faiths being educated separately, but different strands of different faiths. Oh dear. What an awful mess. And where will children of no faith be educated? Will I have to set up an atheist school?
youcannotbeserious via Education Guardian.co.uk
• I would welcome the chance to be able to teach in school without the complication of religion. At the moment all schools, whether faith or not, are required to deliver a daily collective act of worship wholly or mainly Christian in character. Schools can apply to not have to do this, but it is a lengthy process, so few do. As a headteacher, this task falls to me on a daily basis; as a lifelong atheist, I find ways round it so that I don't offend the mixed-faith and no-faith community I serve.
londonwhippet via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Alan Smith, who teaches philosophy in a prison, shared some of his students' thoughts on whether prisoners should have the right to vote
Those in prison are there because they ignored the rights of others in some way. If someone does not respect the rights of another person, then he has no right to expect others to respect his.
spike99 via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• The idea that prisoners forfeit rights because they are convicted is a misunderstanding of rights; rights are assumed simply by virtue of someone being human and not by a set of criteria.
RayNoble via EducationGuardian.co.uk
The 'extras' that make a real difference to students' futures will be hit in the latest round of further education cuts
College principals were still reeling from the news that the EMA was being scrapped when the Young People's Learning Agency (YPLA) announced that so-called entitlement funding, which covers the cost of pastoral care, tutorials and extracurricular activities for 16- to 19-year-olds, was also to be cut. The news, which slipped out quietly just a few days before Christmas, came as a big blow for college leaders. Many were left wondering how they would fund the extras, such as work experience and volunteering programmes, that make all the difference in getting young people into work and higher education.
Chopping back the annual provision from 114 to 30 funded hours will hit students hard at all levels, say principals. The most academically able students competing for Russell Group university places could struggle to access the kind of extracurricular activities that impress admissions tutors. Meanwhile, those getting a taste of real work at college – for example, those on enterprise programmes reliant on entitlement funding – may see such opportunities shrink. Asha Khemka, principal of West Nottinghamshire College, has described the move as "more serious than losing the EMA".
College leaders are still working out what may have to give. Nationally, £650m is being cut, although the government claims £150m will be redirected to benefit the poorest learners.
Some principals are reluctant to talk about the impact: they are, after all, in the competitive business of trying to woo students. But from those who did speak to Education Guardian, snapshots emerge of rich provision at risk and difficult choices to be made.
Alton is determined its academic sixth-formers should still compete for top university places helped by extra coaching, but the principal, Jane Machell, fears "this could be at the expense of other things". These include subjects such as digital photography and minority languages such as Russian for beginners. The college may also have to consider ending funding for gifted English literature students keen to attend creative writing and poetry workshops.
Alton will also consider whether it can afford to continue running the Duke of Edinburgh's award scheme and the full scope of its music provision. "We had a student last year who went to Trinity College of Music and played in five different ensembles here," says Machell. "He wouldn't have got in without that. We wouldn't axe all of them, but we have to look at the breadth and range of what we run."
This college serves one of the country's most deprived areas. The principal, Cathy Walsh, says entitlement funding cuts of about £1.7m will have "a devastating impact on our ability to deliver educational priorities". For instance, Barking and Dagenham is one of only a few colleges investing heavily in "motivational dialogue" – coaching sessions where staff work to raise learners' aspirations by getting them to reflect on the need to change and then helping them to take the necessary steps to do so.
Success stories include one student with behavioural problems who changed his outlook on life and went on to lead a fundraising project for Children in Need. The college regards this as essential rather than optional work in a borough that has the country's third-lowest literacy rate.
"Many fall into the 'at risk' category and we find this improves their chances of success by up to 60%," says Walsh. The college also has a strong focus on personal coaching, setting individual targets to improve academic performance. But all this draws on staff time and money, and the college faces hard choices about how far it can all keep running.
Another distinctive programme is the Enterprise Academy, which secures "real work" from within the college and externally. "This helps to shape vocational and professional skills, all of which makes our learners much more attractive to employers," says Walsh.
The scheme currently has 70 projects on its books, from providing artwork and installations for a Metropolitan Police building, to catering and car-park marshalling. It has also won contracts to provide hospitality, and for landscaping and graphic design at Barking business centre.
All this offers a taste of genuine work in an area that has the country's second-highest level of neets (young people not in education, employment or training) and where youth unemployment stands at 18%. But such projects could suffer, says Walsh.
Greenhead has a strong academic tradition – last year 32 students received Oxbridge offers. The principal, Martin Rostron, says the college will do all it can to maintain the tutorials, coaching and work-shadowing opportunities it offers to help A-level candidates compete with pupils from independent schools. But, he adds, "the little things that make a difference [to education] will have to go, left, right and centre".
The college also has a strong tradition of sporting excellence.Recently, two students were picked for the British Colleges hockey squad, and its football team was crowned West Yorkshire college champions. "Every year we get requests from sports associations asking us to support our students who have made it into the national squads," says Rostron. "But where I might budget £1,500 for that this year, it won't be there in future."
Competing at the highest level means Greenhead sports teams have to travel for fixtures. But, with reduced funding, such opportunities will be fewer. Meanwhile, quirky but highly regarded projects such as circus skills, which the college has helped to subsidise, will also be cut back.
The Duke of Edinburgh's (DofE) award scheme, long at the heart of the college's extracurricular activities, may be axed, a situation described by the principal, Adele Wills, as "very grim".
King George currently has more than 60 students taking part and could probably double that number, says Wills. Three members of staff are involved, along with an alumni association that regularly donates equipment.
"Students go on great expeditions that teach leadership skills and endurance," says Wills. "It's part of the college's ethos. It looks now as if the only viable option is to charge them. It's a dilemma – if you can afford to buy it, you'll always get it – but if you can't, then you won't."
The college faces a double squeeze because Sefton council is also withdrawing funding for DofE activities and Wills is concerned the scheme may disappear from the college altogether.
This college, which has many students from deprived areas, has a well-developed programme of personal tutorials to discuss sexual health, drug and alcohol misuse, and personal finance that are "all essential to helping young people remain in education", says the principal, Marion Plant, who faces losing £1.3m in entitlement funding over the next year.
She is anxious to protect pastoral care but is now considering running more group rather than one-to-one tutorials, and, on occasion, using volunteers rather than paid staff. Students, many of whom cannot afford it, could face contributing more towards trips.
Meanwhile, the college will double its efforts to create extra income through commercial activities such as running a market stall.
Managing work experience for students to support their university applications may have to stop, says the principal, Cath Hurst. "We've placed students wanting to do medicine in hospitals, and those hoping for a career in law in the crown court. One who wanted to do a degree in forensic science went to a local undertaker to see if he could cope with dead bodies," she says.
Entitlement funding has given staff the time to arrange all this. They visit placements, check health and safety and hours of work, and, where necessary, carry out CRB (Criminal Records Bureau) checks, essential for working with children and vulnerable adults – all of it time-consuming.
"The removal of funding means students will have to arrange these visits independently, and, for some, it will be hard," says Hurst. "Sports, trips, music, drama, things that help people become a rounded individual, are also at risk."
As York comes to terms with entitlement funding cuts of £1.8m this year, it has become increasingly difficult to offer students involvement in volunteering projects, according to the deputy principal, Graeme Murdoch. "As a result, they're having to use their own time," he says. "However, due to the rising costs of education, many are devoting their spare time to part-time jobs."
In the past, the college has been able to react to "things that look good on the CV" – for instance, helping to create a local playground, or giving time to a hospice. "We had the capacity within the timetable, but we know we won't now be able to," says Murdoch.
Careers education and guidance has also been hit, along with work placements and trips to universities that offer a taste of what higher education is all about and the choices available. Cuts will also prevent some students from taking part in sport and music.
• This article was amended on 1 March. The original omitted to say that sixth-formers at Alton would continue to get extra coaching to help them compete for university places.
Wine-making is not something the UK is known for, but pioneering research at a Sussex college is changing that
At his vineyard near St Emilion, Martin Krajewski makes some of France's best-known rosé wine. But, in an increasingly competitive market, he's anxious to improve it. Yet while the University of Bordeaux, 20 miles or so down the road, is a leading centre for wine studies, it's to Plumpton College, in the South Downs of Sussex, that Krajewski has turned for help.
Moreover, he's given the college £75,000 to help fund research programmes. And Krajewski, a lifelong wine enthusiast who made his first batch of elderberry aged 12, isn't the only donor. Aspiring wine-maker Mark Driver, intent on becoming England's leading producer of champagne-style fizz, has invested £100,000. The college now hopes to double its money through gift aid and the government's matched funding scheme, which aims to increase voluntary contributions to higher education providers by matching donations, pound for pound.
Both men prospered in the City of London before dedicating themselves to wine production. Krajewski had increased his investment at Château de Sours over several years before taking over entirely. Last October, Driver, a former hedge-fund manager, sank £3.5m into buying Rathfinny Farm, near Lewes, which he plans to cultivate with 400 acres of vines.
Plumpton College was an unknown quantity to Krajewski until his daughter Charlotte, who inherited his passion for wine-making, chose to study there. At first he had doubts. "I said 'Are you sure'? But I read up about it and thought it sounded interesting. I'm amazed by what it's achieved in quite difficult circumstances. It compares well with any other college or university around the world."
What impressed Krajewski was that graduates of Plumpton's wine-making degree course – unique in the country – hold senior positions in vineyards across the globe. "Plumpton is small; it's really hands-on. If you go to university in Bordeaux, you stay there. You're assigned to one particular chateau where all your practical experience is done."
About half of the Château de Sours production is rosé, described by the late Auberon Waugh as probably the best of its kind in the world. "We've invested in processes and equipment," says Krajewski. "But although we do our own research, we're a small business and don't have a lot of time.
"We believe Plumpton can improve our wine. They'll be doing research on the terroir [land in which vines are planted] and taking samples for analysis. They'll have different approaches. Hopefully, the benefits will be mutual. But the donation I've made isn't just to research rosé. I believe what the college is doing is exciting for the next generation of student wine-makers."
Krajewski says the English wine industry is "very important, but not recognised". Driver, who is enrolled as a student at Plumpton, agrees. He was impressed by seeing college alumni working around the world and at English sparkling producers Nyetimber and Ridgeview. "I think it [investing] is one of the best things we can do for the future of English wines," he says.
"Research is really important, but none has been done in the UK apart from bits and pieces. No one's pulled it all together and written definitively – for instance, about successful clones that will produce the right results in the right environment. There are no journals to compare with those in America and Australia.
"What we need in England to take wine on to the next level is a top-quality research institution that will provide information for wine-makers and vineyard owners. It will raise skill levels."
Driver finds himself in the odd position of being a first-year student making business decisions normally taken by an experienced graduate. He is employing consultants to help. Rathfinny's first harvest is due in 2014, and his first sparkling wines, after maturing and secondary fermentation, should be ready by 2017.
The donations have allowed Plumpton to retain Dr Belinda Kemp as wine lecturer and department research co-ordinator. Kemp graduated from Plumpton with a first-class degree in viticulture and oenology, then completed a PhD at Lincoln University, New Zealand, researching the effects of vine-leaf removal on fruit ripening.
Climate change cuts across several of Plumpton's research projects. But although warmer temperatures are welcomed by England's vineyard owners, they come as a mixed blessing.
"It isn't as easy as just saying we can now grow grapes for champagne," says Kemp. "Everything is complicated." For instance, last year some English vineyards suffered their first infestations of light-brown apple moth, whose grubs damage leaves and fruit. "We're looking at ways of combating it without using pesticides. It's the sort of project we'll see more of. We're such a new industry – we have everything to learn. There's a range of projects under the climate-change umbrella."
Plumpton is also studying the chemistry of wine and innovations that could be used in the UK. England is on the northern rim of wine production and one problem is excess acidity in the grapes. Meanwhile, the college will continue its existing research into three different ways of making rosé and work on refining the methods used by Krajewski at Château de Sours.
There will be further studies into champagne-style wines, which look to offer the best chances of commercial success for the English industry. Plumpton can now afford a collaboration with Professor Richard Marchal from the University of Reims to investigate, among other things, how juice changes in quality immediately after grapes have been pressed.
"Richard Marchal is an expert on production of champagne and sparkling wine, and his coming to Plumpton is recognition of the possibilities in the UK," said Krajewski.
Soon Plumpton will be home to Britain's first purpose-built wine research centre, currently under construction, and costing about £500,000. Kemp will establish new research links with the University of Brighton, of which Plumpton is a part. Industry collaborations are planned with UK and international companies, and the college hopes further private funding will allow sponsorship of MSc and PhD research students.
Wine studies at Plumpton have come a long way since Chris Foss, who heads the department, set up the first part-time course in 1988. There are now 500 students, including 140 undergraduates. The donations make a tremendous difference," he says. "They allow us to go beyond teaching into proper research, which is fundamental for a university.
"More important, the wine industry now has a dedicated problem-solving tool, which it can use to support its developments. It will be a case of 'We have this problem … Plumpton can sort it out'."
Those stomach growls that you think are a sign of digestion or hunger may be trying to tell you something much more profound
Some psychoanalysts can find meaning in the most ordinary-seeming bits of your life. Some discern it even in your intestinal rumblings. There's a technical name for those digestive sounds: borborygmi. Several published studies tell how to interpret people's gut feelings – how to translate those borborygmi into common everyday words.
In 1984, Prof Dr med Christian Müller of Hôpital de Cery in Prilly, Switzerland, published a report called New Observations on Body Organ Language, in the journal Psychotherapy and Psychosomatics. Müller paraphrases a 1918 essay, by someone named Willener, which "concludes that the phenomenon generally known as borborygmi must be regarded as cryptogrammatically encoded body signals that could be interpreted with the help of [special] apparatus". Müller laments that Willener's "attempts to follow up on his theory were thwarted by the defects of recording techniques at that time".
Happily, Müller himself had access to later, better equipment. "We have been trying at our clinic since 1980," he writes, "to combine electromesenterography with Spindel's alamograph, and in addition to use digital transformation for a quantitative analysis of the curves via computer."
Müller reveals his greatest interpretive triumph: "The presence of a negative transference situation was not difficult to deduce from the following sequence: 'Ro ... Pi ... le ... me ... lo ...'. The following translation is certainly an appropriate rendering: 'Rotten pig. Leave me alone.'"
This lovely piece of deadpan, intentional nonsense, I am told, was swallowed whole by some readers, and perhaps also some journal editors.
A few years later, Guy Da Silva, a Montreal psychoanalyst, published several apparently quite serious papers about the psychoanalytical significance of borborygmi.
The most accessible (in my view, anyway) is his Borborygmi as Markers of Psychic Work During the Analytic Session. A Contribution to Freud's Experience of Satisfaction and to Bion's Idea About the Digestive Model for the Thinking Apparatus. This professionally dense monograph appeared in a 1990 issue of the International Journal of Psychoanalysis. Freud is Sigmund Freud, the psychoanalysis pioneer who lived in Vienna, Austria. Bion is Wilfred Ruprecht Bion, director of the London Clinic of Psychoanalysis (in the 1950s, and later president of the British Psychoanalytical Society.
Guy Da Silva digested a little Freud together with a little Bion. He writes: "Borborygmi may signal the process and acquisition of new thoughts (symbolization) and the free associations derived from borborygmi often provide the key to the understanding of the session by linking the verbal flow of ideas to the underlying sensory and affective experience, thereby providing a 'moment of truth'. Within the primitive maternal transference, borborygmi are often accompaniments to the fantasy or the hallucination of being fed by the analyst."
The name Guy DaSilva will be familiar to some readers as the star of hundreds of psychologically gut-wrenching films, among them Beyond Reality 3, The Lube Guy, Attack of the Killer Dildos and Porn-O-Matic 2000. But Guy DaSilva the actor and Guy Da Silva the psychoanalyst are not the same person, no matter how similarly stimulating their work may be.
• Marc Abrahams is editor of the bimonthly Annals of Improbable Research and organiser of the Ig Nobel prize
If it really takes off, the free schools policy threatens to overwhelm existing provision and segregate communities by teaching different faiths separately, says Warwick Mansell
It was a debate that may find echoes around England if the government's "free schools" policy takes off. Union members, gathered for a meeting of their local association, were asked to consider the implications of a document which, if the ideas it seemed to outline were to be realised, would dramatically change the face of state education in their area.
Under discussion at the meeting last week was a list of plans by a variety of organisations to set up free schools – semi-independent organisations said by ministers to be founded in response to parental demand – within the traditional boundaries of the local authority.
What sets this paper apart is the number of free school proposals it documents as potentially on the cards for this one area of London alone: 10.
Not only that, but a high proportion of the proposed schools – seven – are said to come from either Christian or Muslim religious groups. This raised the prospect, said speakers at the meeting, of a fragmentation of education within the borough according to the faiths of the children.
The borough is Waltham Forest, and the document suggests a large number of new schools being set up in one area in a short space of time, raising serious questions about the impact on existing provision.
Information on free schools applications is notoriously sketchy, as discussed in Education Guardian last week, and the union says its detailed information on the 10 plans for free schools in Waltham Forest was based on a leak from a well-informed local authority source.
It has only been possible to confirm that five groups on the list have proposals for free or new schools in the borough. However, this still represents a potentially large impact on provision.
The NUT's information includes data on three organisations that clearly have plans for new schools in Waltham Forest, according to their websites.
The Emmanuel Christian Centre, a church whose website features the strap–line "Loving God passionately", says on its home page "I think it would be a good idea to have a Christian school in Walthamstow". The website asks people to register for further information. Its school, says the site, "will have smaller class sizes and its focus will be on high academic achievement and good discipline".
The union says the proposal is for the school to open for nursery to 16-year-old pupils and that its business case has been approved by the Department for Education (DfE), although it is not on the government's published approved list.
The Noor Ul Islam Trust is a charity, linked to a mosque, which runs a well-regarded private school in the borough and other services. It has set up a petition under the heading "A new Islamic free school in Waltham Forest" which as of last week had 498 signatures. The trust says another 1,000 people have also signed the petition on paper.
The petition says: "The aim of the school is to offer an inclusive Islamic environment where children are encouraged to have high aspirations for academic achievement." The free school, which would eventually cater for up to 650 primary pupils, will open this September if the DfE gives approval.
East London Free School already has a website and plans to establish a 200-capacity primary school by September next year. A group of 15 teachers and parents, led by the education consultant and former maths teacher Hakan Gokce, is behind it.
Forest Light Education Plus, a company run on Christian principles that runs Saturday supplementary classes for four- to-18-year-olds in the borough, told Education Guardian that it recently submitted plans to the Department for Education for a small (one-form entry) all-age school with a Christian ethos. Its director, Jennifer Edwards-Ali, a teacher of English as an additional language, says the plans are being redrafted following suggestions from the DfE and would be resubmitted, with the intention of a school opening in September 2012.
She says: "Our goal is to give our all for children: to get them out of gangs and to pull them away from taking drugs."
Tariq Hussain, a committee member of the Waltham Forest Islamic Association, said the association was applying for planning permission to set up a new school, initially for five- to 11-year-olds.
The NUT document has information on five other possible free schools in the borough: two further schools for Muslim children, comprised of one secondary and one for girls aged five to 19; a school linked to a Roman Catholic charity called Marrian Mission; a school proposed by a group of science teachers; and one put forward by a group of local parents.
Marian Mission told Education Guardian that, although it had once had plans to set up a free school and had discussed these with Waltham Forest council officials, it now proposed to establish a more conventional voluntary aided special school for children with behavioural difficulties.
The NUT document says an Islamic-ethos school could be set up by a school called Lantern of Knowledge, a small independent institution in Leyton. But a spokesman says: "We have currently no intention or plan to set up a free school."
The Guardian has been unable to reach the other three groups linked with the other proposed schools on the list.
The free schools document was discussed last Tuesday at the NUT's Waltham Forest association. The meeting unanimously passed a motion opposing them. Rinaldo Frezzato, the association's secretary, said that 10 new schools in the borough would have a potentially "devastating" impact on existing provision.
Although there was a shortage of places in parts of Waltham Forest, such a large number would more than cater for this shortfall. So some of the new schools could in time replace traditional local authority institutions, which might face a struggle to retain pupils and therefore come under pressure to close.
Several of the schools listed in the NUT document could pose a threat to established provision by offering a more explicitly religious ethos, meaning that pupils of different religions could move towards separate schooling, said Frezzato.
"If these plans go through, there's going to be disruption to the cultural and social cohesion in this borough, with a consequent undermining of comprehensive education and the principles that our union has stood for for many years."
Pippa Dowswell, a teacher who spoke at the meeting, said the union respected the positions of religious groups. However, the notion of children of different faiths being educated separately was worrying.
"I think multiculturalism works very well here, in the sense of pupils being educated together," she said. "We need to emphasise to the Muslim community and others that it is good to have children of different faiths in the same school, and not to go down the route of sections of the community being taught away from others."
There is no guarantee that any of the groups will get permission to open schools in Waltham Forest, as the decision rests with the education secretary, Michael Gove. It is difficult even to identify which of them have submitted formal applications, since the names of any free school applications are not revealed until Gove has approved their business cases.
No institution in Waltham Forest is listed among plans for 40 free schools published by the DfE, although they could be among 218 free school applications received but not named.
The proportion of proposals listed by the NUT as having a faith-based element in Waltham Forest is higher than that among the national list of approved applications, among which 10 of the 40 seem to have a religious ethos. Critics have suggested that the faith-based element to some free schools bids sits uncomfortably with David Cameron's suggestion this month that multiculturalism had encouraged the development of "segregated communities". Official support for faith-based schools also grew under Labour, however, with more than 100 applications for religious organisations to run community schools approved after 1997.
Alan Smithers, director of Buckingham University's centre for education and employment studies, says the free schools policy suffers from the fact that no one, other than Gove, was being given a meaningful say on whether a particular proposal was good for an area as a whole.
"Enabling people to set up their own schools is a way of releasing a lot of energy into education," he says. "But the question the government has not answered is how are schools to form an education system that serves all children? If we want a national society which is strengthened by education, you do have to worry about the fragmentation that is taking place."
Aslam Hansa, office manager at the Noor Ul Islam Trust, which has been operating in the borough since 1990, says its school would be open to all and that it has spent many years supporting and promoting community cohesion in Waltham Forest. It runs after-school classes, youth clubs and a club for the over-50s, all of which are open to the whole community.
"Our projects have shown the locality that we can enhance and increase community cohesion," he says.
A DfE spokesman said formal applications for three free schools in Waltham Forest had been received. He would not, however, say what the projects were. He added that groups whose proposals were unsuccessful after initial application would never be named. "These groups will not receive public money and so there is no reason to publish them. This could cause unnecessary embarrassment."
He added: "The secretary of state will take into account all matters relevant, including the impact on other schools.
Local authorities would be consulted, he said. "It is important that any new state-funded academy provision meets not only faith need, but also the needs of children in the broader community, so only 50% of a free school's admissions can be made with reference to faith when a school is oversubscribed.
"We have also been absolutely clear that all free school proposals must be for inclusive schools and extremist views of any kind won't be permitted."
The only way for academics to cope with the pace of change in universities is to ignore everything
I've just come across a phrase that sums up my approach to university administration: "masterful inactivity". No matter that the phrase was coined to describe the British approach to venereal disease in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Now I'm no longer head of my department I can reveal the secret that kept me sane. Ignore everything. If it actually needs to be done you'll be reminded, and then do it immediately. But mostly, someone wants you to fill in a form because they have a form to fill in themselves, and by the time they have processed all the responses the person who ordered the whole thing has moved on, passed on, or forgotten. And so by keeping your in-tray so high you can't see over it you are saving everyone time and trouble.
But, I hear you cry, how irresponsible! In the ever-changing academic environment we can't be passive; we can't even be reactive. We must be proactive. Or maybe pre-proactive. Well, let's take this slowly.
First of all, I have to admit, change is the thing. Or at least, like Grease and Johannesburg, it is the word. Change is so important that a few years ago my university brought in a change management strategy. The main message was that before you change you must consult. Very good. And so, I asked, why wasn't I consulted on this policy? That held it up for a day or two. Not sure, though, that anyone has remembered to use it since.
In his writings on scientific laws, the Scottish philosopher David Hume asked what reason we have to believe that the future would resemble the past. Hume never worked in a university – he couldn't get a job – but if he was with us in the English education system now he wouldn't even bother to ask the question. We have achieved – in one way at least – something like Trotsky's vision of world communism: permanent revolution.
Why do we have to keep changing? Obviously because we are not teaching properly. Or researching the right things. Or bringing in enough cash from business or alumni. Or embedding ourselves deeply enough into the community. Or exchanging knowledge with the right partners. Or having sufficient impact. Or widening participation. Or ensuring that every student has the right visa. By way of penance we need to run round and round with bits of paper in our hands, and then fire off lots of emails.
I cannot deny that the environment is changing. How, then, can inactivity, however masterful, be defended? Here's a cautionary tale. Last year, Middlesex University, in the face of an international outcry, decided to close its philosophy department. Why? One of the arguments was that philosophy was funded in band D – getting the lowest government subsidy – and so it made more sense for the university to switch to taking more social science students who were funded at a higher rate in band C.
As a bit of proactive management, it seems to make financial sense. Except, as I noted at the time, this reasoning depends on the future resembling the past. Rather a rash assumption. It appears the coalition government has decided to withdraw all funding from most band C and D courses. Now, if the reason why band C received higher funding was that the courses are more expensive to teach, Middlesex made a spectacular miscalculation. In fact, depending on other factors, it now looks as if there is financial reason to boost recruitment in B and D at the expense of band C.
If the background environment keeps changing, you cannot predict the consequences of your actions. What looks like a smart move one year may leave you smarting the next. What do you do? Masterful inactivity, of course. It has two advantages. First, it doesn't waste your time. Second, if you cannot sensibly plan on other grounds, you should at least make sure that what you do is sound in intellectual, scholarly and pedagogical terms. And here, as Iris Murdoch once said about philosophy, if you are not making progress at a snail's pace, you are not making progress at all.
• Jonathan Wolff is professor of philosophy at University College London. His column appears monthly
Young people from ethnic minorities struggle to be taken on as apprentices. What is being done?
Ashley Thaw left school with five good GCSEs and designs on being a plumber. But his attempts to find an apprenticeship proved fruitless. "I must have phoned around 100 firms," he says. "I got an interview with a big firm, but the minute I walked into the place, I could tell they didn't think I'd fit in. I didn't get the job."
Michael Nyamekye left school with two A-levels, but his attempts to find an apprenticeship scheme were also unsuccessful. Over an 18-month period, he applied, and was turned down for, over 150 jobs and apprenticeships. "I was mainly applying for accountancy and administrative roles but, in every interview I walked into, I was the only black guy there. I was very conscious of the fact I was different from all the other candidates."
It is a familiar story, says Jeremy Crook, director of the British Training and Enterprise Group (Bteg), a national charity that works to improve education, skills and employment outcomes for black, Asian and ethnic minority communities.
There is disagreement about how many people from black and minority ethnic backgrounds are taking up and completing apprenticeships. Unionlearn, the lifelong learning arm of the TUC, puts the figure at around 6%. Recently released government data suggests 7%. Meanwhile, the National Apprenticeship Service (NAS), the government-led agency that works with employers to increase and promote apprenticeship opportunities, estimates 8%. But there is agreement that this is an area that needs attention.
According to Crook, employers' attitudes are part of the problem. Although there have been improvements in some areas (such as childcare and business administration), young people of BME origin are still poorly represented in areas like construction, engineering and hospitality, a trend that can be put down to "an element of racism", says Crook.
Linda Clarke, professor of European industrial relations at Westminster Business School, has carried out extensive research into obstacles for ethnic minorities in accessing vocational training in the construction industry. She says: "The reality is that many employers still want to work with people like themselves. So if they are white and male, the chances are they'll look to recruit similar types."
Educating employers is vital, says Tom Wilson, director of Unionlearn. "Unions are attempting to negotiate equality and diversity training for managers and to promote recruitment strategies that directly target BME candidates, for example in the black press. Employers should go out of their way to offer work experience and open days to BME pupils."
Young people's perceptions are also important, says Crook. "Some black or ethnic minority young people fear they won't 'fit in' in a workplace where their colleagues are predominantly white."
Thaw also believes not enough candidates are applying because they don't see role models doing the same. "Many of the friends I grew up with in Nottingham were brought up by single mothers and had no working male role models around."
But he thinks employers' behaviour is down to stereotyping. "There are so many negative images of young black men. I think some employers are worried about how it might be seen if they send a black guy round to a customer's house."
Crook points out that not only are young people from black and ethnic minorities under-represented in apprenticeships, those who do make it tend to be concentrated in programme-led apprenticeships (sometimes known as pre-apprenticeships). These are generally counted as apprenticeships in official figures, but they do not always lead to a job.
In employer-led apprenticeships, young people are paid by their employer and stand a good chance of getting a job at the end of the training. In programme-led apprenticeships, they start out with a college or learning provider, but many never manage to secure a paid apprenticeship.
Geography also plays a part. Crook explains: "In areas like Yorkshire, which has a strong history of manufacturing industries, there may be more apprenticeship opportunities, while urban areas, which have a bigger population of ethnic minority young people, tend to have far fewer."
Frustrated by his lack of progress, Thaw enrolled on a level 1 plumbing course at his local college, which without a suitable work placement was "less than useless", he says. A year later, when he still hadn't managed to secure an apprenticeship, he relocated to Surrey to live with his father, a self-employed plumber, who agreed to take his son on as his own apprentice.
Thaw, 18, now works with his dad four days a week and attends North East Surrey College of Technology (Nescot) in Epsom one day a week, where he is working towards a level 2 apprenticeship and is "once again, the only black guy in the class". Afterwards, he hopes to progress on to a level 3 qualification.
Nyamekye, who is now 23, was claiming jobseekers allowance for over 18 months before he heard about an opening at the outsourcing and asset management company Mitie, on their employability scheme, which provides paid training and work experience to young people from disadvantaged backgrounds. This led to a full-time job in sales and marketing.
"We can't emphasise enough the importance of mentoring for boosting aspiration and providing career guidance for people from a black, Asian and minority ethnic background," says Sandra Kerr, national campaign director of Race for Opportunity, an organisation (of which Mitie is a member) that is committed to improving employment opportunities for ethnic minorities across the UK.
The government has pledged to create 75,000 new apprenticeships over the next four years. But with plans to phase out programme-led apprentices, BME participation in apprenticeships could sink lower. Proportionally, BME students have already have been hit hard by the scrapping of the education maintenance allowance (EMA). Government figures from 2008 show that while 43% of all 17- to 18-year-old full-time students received EMA, 67% of Black African and 88% of Bangladeshi students were in receipt of this allowance.
Crook believes the NAS needs to do more."The NAS needs to show some leadership. Instead of setting ineffective targets it should be in dialogue with apprentices, employers and learning providers asking 'how can you help improve this situation?'"
But an NAS spokesperson says: "The National Apprenticeship Service strongly believe that apprenticeships should be open and accessible to all, regardless of gender, ethnicity, disability or learning difficulty. However, we do not have the remit to compel employers to recruit one potential apprentice over another. We are committed to a wide range of activities to promote equality in apprenticeships."
Peter Scott recently left his job as a vice-chancellor – a job that means different things to different incumbents
I was an accidental, exceptional (in the sense of different, not better), awkward – and, above all, lucky – vice-chancellor. From the beginning of 1998 until the end of December, I was vice-chancellor of Kingston University – 13 years at the head of a special university of which I am, and always will be, proud.
Accidental because, even after I moved out of journalism to go to the University of Leeds, I never imagined I would be a vice-chancellor. They were members of a strange tribe, idealistic and pretentious in equal measure, which I had observed from the outside when I was editor of what was then The Times Higher Education Supplement. At Leeds I had even carried out research on university leaders, again never imagining I would ever be one.
I was exceptional in the sense that most vice-chancellors are born and bred in the academic system. I was – and am – the product of a very different world, the chaotic and cynical but idealistic and sociable world of journalism (and, more specifically, of print journalism pre-Murdoch – another time and place, indeed). My rite of passage, as a professor and then as a pro-vice-chancellor, was very brief – five years in total.
And I was an awkward vice-chancellor, because I have always seen myself as a rebel, the boy who refused to join the Scouts and wanted to produce "alternative" magazines instead. I was always uncomfortable with being a leader – not in an intellectual sense (I have always loved argument – too much, perhaps) but in terms of the management "cult". Organograms, line management, performance reviews – they leave me cold.
But, above all, I was a lucky vice-chancellor. My time at Kingston coincided almost exactly with the years of New Labour. Although I hated New Labour's naive espousal of the "market" and its obsession with "modernisation", ie meddling, it turned on the public expenditure tap and kept it running almost to the end, and its core instincts – student growth and wider access – remained sound. In retrospect, the last decade-and-more will be remembered as good times for universities. In the public sector, like everywhere, the rule is simple: "you get what you pay for".
The New Labour years may also be remembered as a good time for vice-chancellors. In the last 15 years they have faced few serious external challenges. Even the introduction of "real" tuition fees created little initial disturbance. Why should it? The cartel was preserved, and the money was additional.
And in their own institutions they faced even feebler challenges. Senates (and academic boards) had been largely put back in their boxes; "big debates" had shrivelled into little squabbles. Even the famous "donnish dominion" of senior professors had been eroded. Governing bodies had yet to assert themselves, although ominously their grumbling got louder. And, in the middle, was the vice-chancellor, his (or her) power bolstered by senior management teams, executive deans and professional managers. There was no doubt who was in charge.
But times are changing. A scattering of vice-chancellors have been sacked, all special cases, of course, but nevertheless straws in the wind. The Browne-Willetts "reforms" are being used by many lay members of governing bodies as a "wedge" issue with which to prise their way more deeply into university governance. Price setting, market positioning – at last something they can understand after years of being kept out of the secret garden by the academics.
Even if these "reforms", like all the others, are absorbed by inertia, resistance or (more probably) the shock of their encounter with the real world, the damage will have been done. In the future, governing bodies will be on the front foot, not the back. The clever vice-chancellors have already got the point, and are no longer emphasising their own managerial rights, but instead sharing sovereignty with their governing bodies.
However, there is a second challenge – from student and staff activism, their resistance to the same "reforms". Vice-chancellors are not simply agents of their councils and boards; nor only leaders of executive teams. They also exercise – or should – symbolic leadership. They must lead the whole church – not simply today's students, but graduates and also future generations with their ideals still intact; not just today's staff, but tomorrow's and yesterday's. Universities have identities and personalities – and here I am thinking of values, even souls, not "brands" or key performance indicators.
I am not clear how well vice-chancellors are responding to this second challenge. At the end of last year, when the frenzy about the House of Commons vote on fees was at its height, there was a "war of the letters" – well, more of a skirmish. Vice-chancellors had to choose which letter to sign – the one urging MPs to vote for fees on the "cruel necessity" principle; a second letter totally opposing higher fees on the "here I stand; I can do no other" principle; and even a third that could have been drafted by Pontius Pilate.
A small band signed the second letter, although rather more vice-chancellors privately agreed (and told me so in quiet corners). Many more signed the pro-government letter, exercising what they no doubt saw as macho leadership. But many signed nothing – sometimes with the excuse they would need to consult their governing bodies and there was no time. Whatever view you take of the planned privatisation of higher education, it was not a stirring call to arms.
In itself, the business over the letters was unimportant. But maybe it suggested a larger dilemma: not just what kind of leaders vice-chancellors have become, but also what kind of institutions universities should be in the 21st century. All the pressures are to treat vice-chancellors as chief executives of large corporate organisations.
The first bit I have to accept. Universities have budgets running into hundreds of millions of pounds, recruit students in their tens of thousands and have thousands of employees. They have complex missions. Of course they need to be managed professionally and prudently.
But the second bit, universities as corporate market organisations, I utterly reject. Not because they should not be entrepreneurial, although their enterprise should be socially as well as commercially directed; not because they should not be responsive to the needs of their students and other "stakeholders" (ugh!). How else have we been able to build a mass system enrolling almost 2.5 million students, with a global reputation for research and innovation?
My objection is simply that I believe universities are an intellectual project that is composed of thousands of encounters in lectures, seminars, conferences and laboratories which, quite literally, shape and make our future (as individuals, as a community, as a society, as a nation, as a world). Some of these encounters are labelled teaching and others research. But they form an intellectual, and scientific, unity – worthy to be pursued by a university perhaps?
The primary purpose, now being dutifully described in those statements of public good that all universities must write under the new charities legislation, determine the role of the vice-chancellor. That role is an intellectual one, with strong social and cultural responsibilities. Its core leadership "competences" are empathy and imagination. Of course, vice-chancellors cannot hope to match the disciplinary expertise of their academic colleagues in anything but the narrowest range. Of course, contemporary universities have become impossibly diverse. But these simply intensify the challenge.
However feebly I met that challenge at Kingston, I was always aware of it. Making sense of these intellectual dynamics in a concrete social and institutional context is immeasurably more difficult than "re-engineering" or "re-branding". But why else would you want to be a vice-chancellor?
• Peter Scott is now professor of higher education studies at the Institute of Education
Britain's longest-serving headteachers explain why they believe it's right to stay put, bringing experience and continuity to their schools
How long is too long to be a school's headteacher? That's the question raised by the new edition of the Good Schools Guide, which finds that many of the schools it profiles have had heads in post for around a quarter of a century – and some, in the independent sector, have had heads whose tenure stretches back more than 35 years.
And why not, Helen Hyde – head of Watford Grammar school for girls – asks feistily. Her first day as head was almost 24 years ago, and since then many thousands of girls have gone through its portals. In an age when the education system sometimes seems obsessed with recruiting dazzlingly bright young things from top universities to parachute into headships, she says there's no doubt about it – experience really does count. "Having the same head in place brings a security to the school – pupils, parents and staff all feel safe," she says. "They know me well, they know I'm here, they know they can come to me. They know my standards and my values.
"Being here for a long time means I've been able to appoint staff who believe in what I'm doing here, which strengthens the ethos of the school. And I'm able to both share and learn from the experience, through taking part in conferences with other heads from across the country."
The danger is that a long-standing head outstays his or her welcome – but, says Hyde, she's confident she's neither in that position, nor is likely to be. "I'm not stupid – I'll know when I should be going," she says. But for the moment, aged 64, she has no plans to leave. "I'm staying ... and I'm not going to say for how long, because the pupils and parents would get upset and jumpy if they thought I was about to make a move."
Stability is clearly one of the big plus factors gained from having a head who's around for a long time. "It provides great continuity, and heads who've been in post for decades tend literally to be legends in their own lifetime," says Janette Wallis, senior editor at the Good Schools Guide. The phenomenon of what she calls the "headzilla" certainly isn't a new one, she explains. "It goes back a long time, to the days when some private schools were private businesses, run by proprietors who were the head for many years," she says.
Probably as a result of this tradition, the phenomenon of the long-serving head is stronger in the independent than the state sector. "You get some heads in independent schools who have been there for ages – for example, Norman Hale was head of Milbourne Lodge school in Esher, Surrey, for 50 years – and Lt Col Stuart Townend founded Hill House school in London, attended by Prince Charles, in 1951, and remained in charge of it until his death in 2002 at the age of 93."
One problem for schools that have the same head for decades, says Wallis, is that they can face problems when they do have to recruit a replacement. "The head almost is the school – so it can be difficult to find a replacement, and it's not uncommon for a school to have to almost reinvent itself after the departure of someone who's been there for a really long spell."
Unsurprisingly, given that it's more common in the independent sector, the Good Schools Guide names Clifford Vote, head of the independent Italia Conti Academy of Theatre Arts – a performing arts school in London – as the country's longest-serving. He says he's not surprised to hear it – during recent centenary celebrations, many staff, parents and pupils were shocked to see him on photographs dug out from the archives from decades ago. "They said I looked a bit younger in those days," he jokes.
But, like Hyde, he feels his longevity as head has been to Italia Conti's advantage. "I think when you've been at a school for a long time you're more able to see the wood for the trees – you have a very strong sense of what you're about and you know what's likely to work, and you have confidence about the decisions you take.
"Having said that, the crucial thing is that you have to be outward-looking – you've got to make sure you're not rowing your canoe up its own private creek, you've got to stay in the mainstream."
Dr Ian Walker, long-standing head of another independent school – King's school in Rochester, where he took the helm in 1986 – agrees. No one should think, he says, that heads who stay in post for many years don't have other offers ... it's just that they choose to stay put, because they love their schools so much. "I've been offered lots of jobs, but I'm very happy to turn them down," he says. "The pupils here are invariably lovely, and I can't imagine a place where they would be quite so great."
Wallis says that though she was aware of a number of long-standing heads in the private sector, what surprised her when researching the new guide was how many state schools shared the phenomenon. "I didn't expect to find state school heads who'd been around for so long – in the modern world, it's not something you think you'll find."
Roy Pike, head of Torquay Boys' Grammar since 1987, shares with Helen Hyde the accolade of being perhaps Britain's longest-serving state-school head. One point he makes is that, through a period of perhaps unprecedented change in the country's education system, he has been able to provide continuity. "I took the school into grant-maintained status in 1993, and then in 1996 we became a specialist school, then a beacon school and – in 1997 – a foundation school," he says. "We went on to become a high-performing specialist school, and then a leading edge school ... and now we're an academy. Every few years there has been a new phase, and through it all I've been here at the centre."
Pike, 62, says he'd never have expected, when he was appointed, that he'd still have the same job so many years later – especially as Torquay Boys' Grammar is the only school in which he's ever taught full time. "But it seems to have worked," he says. "When I took over, this was a moderate, coasting sort of school, and we've become very successful – we'd certainly consider ourselves to be in the top 20 boys' schools in the country." Another common trait among long-serving heads is that their schools tend to be successful.
Although understandably unwilling to be pinned down on a possible departure, Pike admits he feels his tenure is "drawing to a close"; and perhaps surprisingly, he doesn't think he'll miss his job too much when he does eventually move on. "The thing is that I'll be able to think I've done all I could – I'll have a sense of satisfaction which will be complete."
At Italia Conti, meanwhile, Clifford Vote says he has no plans to leave – but he hopes that, if he is hanging on beyond his sell-by date, someone will let him know. "I'd like to think someone will tap me on the shoulder and say, you're getting a bit doddery," he says. But he's hoping that won't be for a while.
Everyone wants schools to be held to account, but let's leave room for teachers to use their initiative, says Estelle Morris
An unresolved conflict seems to thwart all government attempts to forge a different relationship with the teaching profession.
For more than a decade, political parties have been shifting their policies and their rhetoric from command and control by ministers, to devolution to schools, yet this has hardly been met by cries of delight from teachers. Many seem not to have noticed the difference.
In truth, politicians from all parties can point to a long list of freedoms and flexibilities that they have given to schools and speeches they have made inviting heads to innovate and lead change.
Many teachers have seized the chance and lead what now would be thought of as some of our most successful schools. Yet across our school system, too many teachers still feel trapped by the demands of government and hemmed in by the requirements of regulators. The trust and freedom that ministers want to be at the heart of the next phase of education reform are proving difficult to deliver.
This unresolved conflict arises from the conditions successive ministers have attached to their policy of "devolving to the front line". They want to give power to professionals ... but politicians have others to answer to as well – parents, the electorate and employers, to name but a few. Their solution is to retain control of the accountability mechanisms – testing, performance tables and inspection – but free up the rest. The problem is that it's the accountability system itself that teachers say stifles creativity and innovation.
Both viewpoints are right. The greater the freedom ministers allow, the more they will depend on performance data to warn of failure or to identify success. Yet the tighter the government draws the measurement criteria, the more it drives decisions taken by schools. Education is full of examples of unintended consequences.
Take the last government's decision to place so much emphasis on GCSE level C and above. It achieved its objective perfectly. More young people moved up from grade D to C. But the same progress wasn't made by those with Es and Fs. Overall performance went up, but the attainment gap didn't close.
The same mistake is being repeated by the present government. Heads may welcome the new curriculum and staffing freedoms, but many will be overly influenced by the government's decision to make the English baccalaureate the "gold standard" performance indicator. You can already hear headteachers talking about what they need to do to go up in this particular league table next year.
The accountability system is an immensely powerful agent of change that will influence the actions of all but the most confident of heads.
We never seem to talk about this contradiction at the heart of the school improvement system. Politicians too often assume that anyone who raises the problem wants to get rid of testing and performance measurements completely, but things have moved on from the battle lines of 20 years ago. Most teachers want to debate how we hold schools to account, not whether it should be done at all.
Surely we should be able to use the power of the accountability system to drive our shared ambitions. It is the responsibility of government to set, drive and monitor the vision and the aspirations for the nation's education system, but ministers don't have the sole wisdom about how to measure our progress towards achieving it. We all want to close the attainment gap, stretch the brightest or show that we value creativity. Surely it's worth debating how we can measure progress in a way that doesn't stifle teachers' initiative.
The prize could be an accountability system for a modern public service; one that gives government and the public the information they want, but that also gives teachers the confidence and freedom they need to do the job we ask of them.
Lapdancing students, state school secrets, slippers at school
Last week, Rowenna Davis talked to students who were funding their studies by lap-dancing
I'd rather owe £50,000 than fund my education this way. As a result of my education, mainly funded by tedious, menial and no doubt less well-paid jobs, I conclude that lap-dancing perpetuates the objectification of women by men.
Tarantella via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• It's simply a better job than most. It has flexible hours, good pay, keeps you fit, is sociable. There are always boring shifts and sometimes horrible customers. However, you just call security and they are gone – if only it were so simple in the office world. It also creates opportunity. As an ex-dancer, I've seen it happen many times to girls from poorer backgrounds: suddenly you are getting money you never imagined you could have. A whole world of possibilities opens up. Now you can get an education, you can save, you can get out of debt, you can start to think about property and family.
MissEmilyVixen via EducationGuardian.co.uk
I was interested to read Janet Murray's article (State school secrets 15 February). Last July I also submitted a freedom of information request to the Department for Education to find out more about the procurement process the department had followed in awarding £500,000 to the New Schools Network. During the last eight months, the department has not provided the information, but neither has it refused to provide it. Instead, it has stonewalled both my appeals for a response and an instruction from the Information Commissioner's Office two months ago to respond to my request within 10 days.
The government has claimed it is committed to openness and transparency, but it would appear that in Michael Gove's Department for Education, secrecy is official policy.
Martin Quinn
Tavistock, Devon
• Your article reveals more than the lack of transparency surrounding free schools, it also gives an insight into the thinking of one of their chief supporters, Toby Young. I doubt very many of the thousands who oppose free schools are members of the Socialist Workers' Party. Young's attacks on elected shop stewards such as Nick Grant are disgraceful.
Gordon Vassell, Hull
• To dismiss those opposed to free schools in this manner is the sign of a man who knows he's lost the argument.
Shack via EducationGuardian.co.uk
• The Tories took the idea of free schools from Sweden. Free schools in Sweden are still under local education authorities. Discussions are more open here.
LiberalSweden via EducationGuardian.co.uk
Stephanie Northen (Why bog standard is a state of mind, 15 February) describes Holyhead high, opened in 1949, as " the UK's first comprehensive". However, the Nicolson Institute in Stornoway has eschewed a selective intake since opening its doors on 27 February, 1873. It continues to welcome all the young people of Lewis.
Paul Alldred
Leverburgh, Isle of Harris
Sofia Lockwood, six, wrote to The School I'd Like project, saying she would like to wear her slippers all day at school, and to eat her cake before her sandwiches at lunch
In Japan the kids and teachers wear slippers called uwabaki. Every school has an area of pigeon-hole cupboards where kids put their street shoes. This is a favourite place for leaving love letters. But why can she not eat cake first? Is this some rule in the school, and who enforces it?
HoshinoSakura via EducationGuardian.co.uk