Sense and Nonsense and the National Curriculum

Michael Barber, Duncan Graham

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781136716942
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Didattica
• Subtopic: Didattica generale

Originally written after four years of the National Curriculum, at a time when adjustments and radical changes were being implemented, this book analyses from various points of view what is wrong with the National Curriculum and presents a series of options for putting it right.

Part 1

Perspectives on Implementation

Chapter 1

Reflections on the First Four Years

Duncan Graham

Four years on and it is time to draw the first conclusions about the National Curriculum. It will be some time before much that is definitive is said beyond the fact that the principles are now largely unchallenged. Debate centres on detail: no cries for abolition are heard, even from Tim Brighouse! The contributors give assessment from a range of viewpoints which will assist those coping now and no doubt those who will study the nineties in retrospect. The purpose of this chapter is to set the context in which the revolution has taken place; this entails a look at the other changes which have coincided, some by design, many, one suspects, by accident. There are many stables in the Department for Education, but few interconnecting doors. Those of us who have striven to flesh out political assurances that the National Curriculum, TVEI and GCSE were uniquely compatible have cause to smile — albeit between clenched teeth. Currently, the thrust towards specialization of schools sits uncomfortably with the concept of a truly National Curriculum, and with entitlement. The National Curriculum was intended to be relevant in a sense which made academic and vocational GCSEs and so on redundant. It is worth looking back at its genesis before attempting to assess its achievements in terms of relevance, standards, progression, differentiation, entitlement and the rest.

The declared agenda for the National Curriculum has a number of aspects. One was to diminish the patchiness which was widely seen to bedevil the English system, the most decentralized of all. Its disadvantages were now seen to outweigh the benefits of initiative at local level. Entitlement was implied, although not spoken of by ministers. It was, perhaps, too egalitarian a concept, and had worrying resource implications. There was a thrust towards making the curriculum more relevant. This reflects the long-standing debate on the nature of education in England. Growing doubt about the Romantic approach, rather than the teutonic practical, were reinforced by the international tendency in the eighties to see education in terms of its economic utility. Contrasts between the economic performances of the USA and Europe, when set against the emergent nations, led to a whole new approach. In England it came late in the guise of the Tory Modernists, led by David (later Lord) Young. The creation of the Manpower Services Commission (MSC) with the active support of the then Secretary of State for Education and Science, Sir Keith Joseph, had a profound effect. There was the Technical and Vocational Education Initiative (TVEI), which did more to change secondary teaching than had anything for years. As a by-product, the success of the MSC in interventionism did not pass unnoticed in the DES.

There was, too, the Great Standards Debate. This tends to be endemic and is probably an intergenerational phenomenon, reinforced in the UK by the gulf between businesspeople and educationalists about the basics. The eighties saw a positive deluge of comparisons which invariably showed up the UK as falling behind in numeracy and literacy. Whatever the arguments about the accuracy and relevance of these, public perceptions were influenced. As I said at the time, there was certainly no evidence coming through that standards were too high.

The hidden agenda had much to do with a volatile combination of political distrust of teachers, and public concern about teaching methods. While (as usual) teaching in most places was varied and balanced, verging on the conservative, the headlines in the tabloids and the heavies focussed on the extremists, those who had taken learning by enjoyment, pupil-centred learning, reading by osmosis, and so on, to extremes, turning respectable practices in aggregate image into something parents did not understand or like the sound of. It followed, therefore, that what was to be taught would be laid down in unique detail — the adjective is used in its literal sense. Testing would be on an unprecedented scale, and trust of teachers was not a built-in feature. There were two paradoxes, which say much for the skill of civil servants, and the moderating influence of Kenneth Baker. One was that methodology was excluded from prescription by the Government in the Act, as was the time to be allocated to each subject. The birthright of the profession is under more threat now, perhaps, than it was then. Equally surprisingly, the philosophy of testing laid upon the Schools Examination and Assessment Council (SEAC) was liberal and well-intentioned, far from the short sharp tests one might have anticipated. Oddly enough, these good intentions, enshrined in the Task Group on Assessment and Testing (TGAT) report, bore the seeds of disaster for testing and, at times, it seemed, for the National Curriculum itself. If it was not possible to trust teachers as partners, then ambitions should have been scaled down — my own behind-the-scenes advocacy was for a simple system which put pressure on schools to improve standards and expectations, was diagnostically useful, and gave parents more helpful information. We may get to this, the way things are going.

Another underlying factor was the anti local government sentiment which the Government has consistently exhibited since 1979. Whatever the alleged shortcomings in local government, they had been largely removed by the late eighties — the party had long been over. Local government was, by any measure, palpably more efficient than central in terms of cost effectiveness. One reason for a National Curriculum must have been to have secure central control, when increased discretion was to be given to 25,000 schools, at the expense of LEAs.

Looking back, one can see the interplay of declared and hidden agendas. The needs of the nation, the acknowledged deficiencies were subsumed in the Baker vision — he deserves credit for that. They were, to an extent, hijacked by the Tory ‘traditional right’, Victorian values brigade, by the centralists, and, no doubt, by the DES, stung by the jibes of the MSC. When last had an education initiative required a DES staff increase, some drawn from other departments? The stage was set.

Was it all necessary? It is probable that it was more so politically than in terms of the education of the nation. In the decade since 1980, pressures on the education service had brought change. An event seldom mentioned was the appearance of DES Circular 6/81. This was the one which required LEAs to have and to declare a curriculum policy. Some may have been surprised to find that they were responsible for the curriculum. Most responded so copiously that a room in Elizabeth House had to be set aside for the responses, pending a decision on what to do with them. They need not have worried. LEAs and schools made massive strides in defining and implementing their policies. Combined with sterling work by LEAs and their advisers on inspection and quality assurance, and the agreement, although not sadly then, the implementation, of a National Appraisal Scheme, the evidence is that the desired improvements were in train. That there was a degree of shooting behind the target was due to a lack of political perceptiveness as much as the failure of the education service to publicize its successes.

Was it a revolution? The answer must be yes, for a number of reasons. It did not come from the education industry, rather from the commercial one. No one has yet admitted to inventing Attainment Targets and Programmes of Study. They came unsullied by classroom practice or by any kind of research base. It can be argued that it would not have been accomplished any other way. Equally novel was the approach used in tackling subject content. The membership of the working groups may initially have seemed orthodox enough: after all I did (eventually) chair the mathematics group. But the remit was revolutionary — a quick pragmatic assessment of what the nation expected in each subject at ages 7, 11, 14 and 16, ensuring good practice as defined by the group, and with minimal consultation. One of the enigmas — even embarrassments for some — is that it worked so well. Little controversy has arisen over content. There is too much of it, but of course no subject enthusiast will sell their subject short. Working groups in which zealots outnumber cynics are never knowingly undersold. Less revolutionary was the subject approach and the choice thereof. Areas of experience, so beloved by HMI, had not caught on sufficiently to prevent a tide of nostalgic subjectism, backed by traditional baronies, from holding sway. The subjects could have come from Kenneth Baker's prep school prospectus!

Revolutionary too was the sheer scale, scope and detail of the thing. No other National Curriculum, to my knowledge, comes near to it. It is the cause of grudging admiration abroad, but not to the point of emulation. The same is clearly true of the testing monster which was created — a revolution which came near to causing a revolution — in schools.

In aggregate, the implications added up to the abandonment, after 120 years of state education, of the traditional freedoms and their replacements by compulsion with the full force of the law behind it. The power for good, the potential, was enormous. If implemented sympathetically it could confirm good schools in their practice without constraining them. It could level up: it did little credit to the minority of independent school heads who claimed that it would level down. Perhaps they feared the competition. It also created the potential for great misuse of power. Central statutory detailed control of the curriculum is a heady brew for politicians. Not all, as we have seen, can resist the temptation. It can also cause fright. The price of entitlement is constraint. Some of those who had demanded detailed prescription changed their minds when they saw the consequences. It was from the Acts progenitors that the cries about complexity and over-prescription were heard most clearly. The scapegoats were to be the National Curriculum Council (NCC) and the SEAC, notwithstanding that they were created by the very same Act which set down the blueprint long before they put their plates up in York and Notting Hill Gate.

In setting in context the front-line contributions which make this book so fascinating, it will be useful to analyze the successes and failures as they appear now, but to do so in the light of other developments which have had an impact.

Had the National Curriculum had a free run, perhaps the only other projects being teacher appraisal and reconciliation with GCSE and post-16 education, then more substantial progress would have been made. It was not to be. There were other initiatives almost as fundamental, and there has been a failure to restore the partnerships which all of us initially saw as so obviously necessary. The National Curriculum can be explained as shock therapy for the system. That can only work once and for a limited period. By such means you can galvanize but not convert. In return for manfully shouldering the burdens, teachers had a right to expect a renewed share in curriculum development, albeit in partnership with others. The concentration of power in political hands, and sadly the politicization of the NCC and the SEAC has prevented this from coming about.

The suspicion about teachers has broadened into an all-embracing distaste for professionals as a whole. While their views should never be taken as gospel, it is well to take account of their expertise and experience. The trouble comes when that advice, as in the nature of things, urges caution consultation and easing the timetable. This is construed as lack of dedication and commitment, a desire to obstruct the speedy implementation of the latest good idea. We seem to have lost for the time being the mutual trust which is so essential. A good illustration lies in the coursework saga. You will recall the ministers sought to reduce it for reasons which perhaps were less than logical. Be that as it may, the chopping and changing caused as much damage and confusion as the change in policy itself. By that time, the voice of professional advisers was at best muted.

Another difficult factor was the divisions and rivalries at the centre of events. Disraeli spoke of politics as a ‘greasy pole’, up and down which the warring factions slithered. The DES initially climbed up with the National Curriculum — the direct participatory control of the curriculum garden at last. By the same token, HMI began their inexorable decline. Without exclusive rights, as it were, they were threatened. New boys on the pole were the NCC and the SEAC — a threat to both the established players. They were quangoes, which civil servants dislike, had powers which were ill-defined, and had difficult, if not impossible, tasks to undertake. It will take time to come to a final conclusion about the end product. I suspect that all the parties will be seen to have lost — even the DES whose officers chose to become ‘professionals’ just before the extinction of the species. The politicization of the NCC and the SEAC bodes ill for their future as credible independent holders of the ring. The proposal in the Current Education Bill for a School Curriculum and Assessment Authority under the tight direction of the Secretary of State provides little comfort. One upshot of all this is that an awful lot of energy which could have gone into implementing the National Curriculum more effectively was diverted into disputation and wrangling. Perhaps when the final balance sheet is drawn, the most damaging development of all will be seen to have been the appearance of a black hole in the field of quality assurance or control. The expectation in 1988 was that, apart from the NCC, the traditional guardians of quality — HMI and LEAs and their advisers — would play a major role in ensuring quality implementation and the monitoring of standards. Instead, their influence has waned significantly: it seems unlikely that the combining of their resources, which many have advocated, will now take place. They could have been the backbone of a system in which various groups contributed to the overall plan. Separately, these do not add up; making it easier to say who cannot do the job than who can. Schools cannot do it alone. They need comparative judgment, their own assessments inevitably appear incestuous. It cannot be governors and parents. They are key players, but not alone. Experience suggests that, left to it, they will narrow the curriculum and stifle initiatives in methodology. It cannot be crude result and league tables. The miracle here is that something so discredited and demonstrably unfair can have had such a long shelf life. Politicians are drawn to the cheap and the simple. That is not to say that publication of results, with fair comparisons, should not take place.

Assessment cannot just be by the consumers — business and commerce — their needs are too ill-defined and diverse. Least of all, in my view, can it be inspection as laid down in the 1992 Act. Inspection and judgment cannot take place in a vacuum, without background knowledge and support. Good schools, and bad, will delight in a mixture of whitewash and wool over eyes. The plan lacks credibility: it is an insult to all those who have worked over the years to develop sensitive and constructive performance indicators. It is completely lacking in a ‘bottom-up’ component in which schools assess themselves against criteria and gain recognition through accreditation. What is needed is the right combination of all of the ingredients. They do not of themselves constitute a recipe.

The last of the negative factors has been lack of resources. The chapter contributed by John Atkins makes compulsive reading. Once all the arguments about resources not being the only factor in progress have been heard, it remains true that we have had a National Curriculum on the cheap. Inspection will be on the cheap too, which is poetic justice in a way. But the funds set aside for training, particularly on assessment, have been woefully inadequate. The rise in class sizes and pupil : teacher ratios is little short of disastrous. The National Curriculum rightly emphasizes the individual pupil in both attainment and assessment. There is known argument that this requires fewer, rather than more, teachers. Investment in books and materials, and in accommodation, has followed the dismal pattern. Most damaging of all is that disparities in resources have been accentuated rather than narrowed. Quite apart from the effects of CTCs and opting out, the increasing pressure on parents to contribute towards essentials has militated against the disadvantaged getting the full benefits of the entitlement. It is to be hoped that governors, as they see the inadequacies, will wield effective pressure. They must speak up now as LEAs lose their power to even out the disparities. The National Curriculum holds out great prospects to those who traditionally gain least help from our system. It has yet to be realized.

Here is a personal assessment of successes and failures so far, as a yardstick for comparison with the conclusions drawn from different viewpoints by the contributors. There are many things on which there is a measure of consensus. One is that the National Curriculum is worth persevering with. On balance, it has proved better to have it. In terms of content we have a clear definition which is broadly accepted. It is probably too much, although it will be difficult to reduce, as distinct from rearrange. Although ministers bang on about over-prescription, the recent revisions in maths and science did not reduce it at all; it simplified a bit which was no more than helpful. The really exciting prospect lies in the hands of schools. The content need not be delivered in subject form — ‘throwing all the Attainment Targets on the floor’ and reassembling them could, at a stroke, reduce overlap, volume and pressure. It could also put some excitement back. The first signs are there.

A real success has been the preservation and enhancement of the whole curriculum. In Curriculum Guidance 3 (1989), the NCC provi...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Preface
• Part 1 Perspectives on Implementation
• Part 2 Perspectives from the School
• Part 3 Perspectives from LEAs
• Part 4 Perspectives on the Future
• Notes on Contributors
• Name Index
• Subject Index