The new learning
The inquiry into the affairs of the William Tyndale junior school — in 1975 the setting for some of the most embittered and bizarre scenes of confrontation between parents, teachers, and ,loc,a1 ,authoeity, officials ever witnessed — proceeds into the New Year. It seems probable th'at no agreement will ever be reached between the feuding factions — and it is certain thht a good deal of time will yet elapse before Mr Robin Auld's committee comps up with an agreed report — but_theieavork so far provides ample material for the framing of some highly important questions about the future of the British educational system.
In the national debate on education battle-lines have already been drawn — between reformers and traditionalists in curricular matters; between moralists and amoralists in the field of ethics; between revolutionaries and conservatives when systems of organisation are under discussion. Most of the controversy aroused is sooner or later focused on whether or not the 1944 Act should be revised and, in particular, whether a wholly comprehensive system should — as the Government desires — replace the existing variety of state-financed provision. Broadly, The Spectator has in the past taken the traditionalist side in these arguments; and we have consistently opposed the imposition by the state of a uniform organisational scheme regardless of local conditions. But the fact of the matter is that educational performance in Britain is so patchy, with tremendous differences of achievement, parent and pupil satisfaction, and kind of school, that generalisations about the national experience as a whole are extremely difficult to frame. The evidence in regard to the William Tyndale school is therefore particularly useful, because it constitutes such a solid body of empirical evidence and because the testimony offered to Mr Auld and his colleagues has aroused such distinct reactions up and down the country.
Under the 1944 Act and subsequent orders and amending legislation the Department of Education has little if any influence of a reforming kind either on curricula or content. It now appears that local authorities have very little either, though it has hitherto been assumed that, since so much educational administration takes place at local authority level, the influence of the authority would be considerable. So long as there was a broad consensus between parents, teachers and politicians, local and national, in regard to what was to be taught and how it was to be taught, this scarcely mattered; and it seemed desirable, in any event, that the state should have as little say as possible in' the content and value structure of education. The matter began to become critical only after the introduction of what might L) cajled the New Learning into state schools that is, teaching methods based on 'à belief in the ability of the child to develop with the minimum of teacher discipline: such were the methods preferred at William Tyndale, With the New Learning came one important problem of principle: though the most fervent proponents of change in the teaching profession insisted that their methods were socially and politically neutral, a very large section of them favoured anti-traditionalist, or downright revolutionary, philosophies; and in spite of those pretensions parents and administrators alike became concerned about their influence on impressionable children. Most criticism concerned itself with what appeared to be declining educational standards (in the narrow sense): but a fear that unpalatable ideologies, moral and political, were being injected into the minds of impressionable children lay behind this more limited view.
Most of the growing concern with what is happening in our schools has been parental. For the greater part politicians and administrators have been quiescent. When she was Secretary of State for Education, for example, Mrs Thatcher found that she lacked the power to intervene in a dispute between parents and teachers over the quality of religious education in a particular school, even though the European Convention on Human Rights explicitly allocates to parents the right to decide on such matters. Again, it sometimes happens that a local authority — the Inner London Education Authority is a case in point — favours the proponents of the New Learning rather than the instincts and rights of parents. The Schools Inspectorate has thus been trapped between activist teachers and unsympathetic or uncaring authority: the inspectors who brought about the closure of William Tyndale have now raised this matter as one of crucial principle.
On this account of the debate so far, parents would seem to be the main losers. But, to be fair, many modern-minded teachers have made great efforts to involve parents in school activity, and to expound the virtues of the modernist creed. Although at William Tyndale the junior school roll has now dropped to less than half of what it was two years ago, indicating the deep dislike and dissatisfaction of most parents for the methods of Mr Ellis and some of his colleagues, a number of parents have been vociferous in support 'of the headmaster. Throughout the country, it is fair to say, parental unhapeiness with the New Learning has been far greater than parental contentment. Since it is undesirable that politicians should have the kind of control over curricula and methods which would be sufficient to prevail against determined and activist teachers, and since too many teachers throughout the country are set on a course both technically (in the sense of methods of teaching the three Rs) and ideologicallY contrary to the wishes of parents, it seems that the first consideration in any revision of the 1944 Act should be of methods of re-establishing parental power.
Both Lord Boyle and Mrs Thatcher, when installed in Curzon Street, expressed the belief that the 1944 Education Act did not need major revision; Lord Butler, its creator, concurred. But things have gone a long way since then; and the declining level of literacy among the young in itself suggests that the appointment of a Royal Commission on Education, with a view to revision of legislation, would be a logical step. Since the Government is committed beyond recall to the phasing-out of the direct grant schools, and the imposition of a comprehensive system across the Country a commitment to a Royal Commission is one that the Opposition could usefully make. There are many ways in which parental rights in schools could be strengthened. So far, however, only one suggestion of a radical kind has been made. This is the so-called 'voucher' system, according t° which parents would receive from government or local authority a voucher equivalent in value to the contribution the taxpayer is required to make towards the education of each child. This voucher could be spent by the parent at the school of his choice. The scheme is highlY attractive in theory, but it has to be said that, save in one or two places in the United States, it has not been subject to serious experiment. Moreover, there is the considerable danger that it might create disruption in the existing system. Nonetheless, there is an almost overwhelming case for some sort of experiment with an idea which has so many attractive aspects. Given that the changes being made by the present Government in school organisation are such as to deny parents anY serious choice of school for their children, a way must be found either to recreate that choice, or to give them a vastly greater say in existing schools than they have at present. Teachers have had their saY, Administrators and politicians have been supine. Parents must now be given their just degree of power.
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