Education
Eton—changing the image, keeping the identity
Colin Meakin
Mr Michael McCrum stands an imposing inch or two over six feet. He is, as one of his associates once remarked, "a formidable looking man, but not as formidable as he looks." He carries immediate respect, being impressively wellread and having an academic background moulded at Sherborne School and Cambridge. He is also headmaster of Eton College.
In his fifth year as headmaster, Mr McCrum is not only the boss of the world's most famous school, but he's the boss at a time when it faces the most critical changes in its structure and attitudes since it was build by Henry VI in 1440. With 1,268 pupils and 125 masters, Mr McCrum heads an academic factory' which has always been associated with the cream and wealth of the British and Commonwealth upper classes. And today, Mr McCrum faces the daunting prospect of 'changing the overall image' of the place and making it 'move with the times.'
In a recent interview, Mr McCrum told me: "It is no longer right that the public school should be stand-offish to the world outside. Eton boys should learn to respect everyone, no matter what colour they are or how poor. It is important that our boys develop a social conscience early in their lives and learn to mix with normal society whenever possible."
This social strategy on the part of one of England's top headmasters comes at a time when, along with the rest of Britain and what remains of her Empire, the British tradition shrinks almost daily and the respect she holds stands up only on her own soil. The Englishman abroad has shrunk to an almost unnoticed tourist taking in the sun on a package tour holiday. And as England reluctantly joins the rest of the world with its decimal coins, litres instead of pints, the very image of its most revered establishments changes along with them; almost voluntarily.
Mr McCrum is adamant about his own peculiar 'social contract' for his 1,000 or more charges and takes them into everyday life outside the cloisters. He has already implemented schemes whereby boys from the college participate in social work, give assistance to the communities of Eton and Windsor, and have regular contact with boys from neighbouring grammar and comprehen sive schools. These sudden and : radical changes in an establishment which has produced scores of generals, politicians, bankers and lawyers have both stunned and pleased parents of boys at the school. As one father said: -We 4must face up to the fact that England isn't what she used to be and when the glory is over, it's saver. I suppose we must liberalise in the end. Some parents, I know, will fight the proposals while others will welcome them as overdue. But, 111 the end, I think the majority if not all of them will face up to it; even if it's to avoid making fools of themselves. There's no need for anyone to worry; after all, it will always be Eton."
One has to suppose so. In fact, as another parent commented, "Dropping the old images can often bring more integrity to a place. The boys will benefit from whatever happens."
Parents who send their boys to the College of Our Lady of Eton beside Windsor, to give it its proper title, pay a princely £1,287 per annum for what Mr McCrum calls "computerised education aiming at academic excellence." If a boy stays, as they normally do, for the full stretch from the age of thirteen to eighteen, fees plus extras and expenses for this exclusive education can amount to £10,000 or £12,000. It is interesting to wonder just how many parents affording these figures count on full prestige and social superiority as rewards for the sacrifice.
It would not be true to say that Mr McCrum's intentions for the social future of Eton are purely his own invention. As long ago as 1963, Sir Robert Birley, who was headmaster of the college from 1949 to 1964, became the subject of much criticism in the diverse echelons of state education when it was announced that he was severely toning down the strength of the long-established institution of 'fagging' within the school's confines. And after ten years, the 'liberalisation' which peeped into this world of history, tuck baskets, bumfreezers and tradition begins to identify itself more recently with the aggressive acts of social compromise which have emanated from Mr McCrum's actions.
But 'integration' in relation to these issues is a word Mr McCrum doesn't like. From this, one unmistakably gathers that his idea is not nor ever will be any loss of identity for the Etonian. His recent message is no more than a brave contribution to a social climate in which , England finds itself helplessly immersed.
As for the Eton scholars themselves, who are, after all, the beings concerned in this progression, they appear to be facing the prospect of a new image with something of a luck'-like relish. One group I spoke to told me of their enjoyment at "getting out and about" and "doing their bit" among people so different from themselves. One should not, of course, attach too much positive importance to such expressions of enthusiams. Even Eton boys can revel in the fun that can be had studying the ways of life of different types. One Eton boy said when I asked for directions inside the college: "just along there, mate."
But. despite the fun and games even the boys themselves envisage lie in their future, we must never forget that Mr McCrum's task is by no means an easy one. Any changer-of-things, be he realistic headmaster or angry young man, is never received unanimously with glee by everyone concerned with what it is he wishes to change. If Eton is to be a different place in future years, if this zenith of academic training is to survive the attacks which may be aimed at it, then satisfaction of those within its walls is of the greatest importance. Most of all, Mr McCrum himself must feel satisfaction to the full; and I'm sure he, at least, will be satisfied with the Eton of the future. Satisfied he must and will be; because he will have built it.
Cohn Mea kin is on the staff of the , Windsor, Slough and Eton Express
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