Ted Wragg

The proposal by a member of the Professional Association of Teachers that the word "failure" should be excised from the classroom was met with predictable mirth, rather than serious debate. That was partly because the proposed euphemism "deferred success" is pretty hilarious. "Yes you did fail your driving test for mowing down several pedestrians on that zebra crossing, Mr Scudworthy, but think of it as deferred success. On your next test you'll probably only ram the car into a tree, and then the time after, you might even pass, if the examiner manages to press the ejector-seat button in time. " Some outstanding people are perfectly capable of slipping the deadly noose of being labelled a failure in childhood, and having the last laugh. Others, unfortunately, are less robust. Einstein was called "Mr Dullard"at school. Nelson Rockefeller was castigated for poor spelling, but was clearly dyslexic. From a wealthy background, he went on to graduate cum laude and become vice-president of the US. Hitler's teacher was unimpressed by his powers of leadership, which is sometimes cited as an example of acute professional misjudgment, but could be seen as one of the greatest teacher insights in the history of education. Failure is an inescapable feature of human existence, for no life path can be perfectly successful. Goethe summed up the situation neatly in a sentence: "Es irrt der Mensch, so lang er strebt " people make mistakes when they strive. For Goethe the idea of "streben", striving, having a go, was an important element in life, but miscues are inescapable. Many children become paralysed by perceived failure and their learning switch goes into the "off "position, while others cheerfully hurdle setbacks and then surge on upwards, wiser and fitter. Coping with setbacks is difficult for all concerned. I remember tears of frustration, when learning the piano, at trying to play both right-and left-hand parts together. Now I see my grandson in the same situation and share his angst. When asked how he coped with the more searing moments chairing debates in the House of Lords, Lord Hailsham replied that he just sat there thinking "bollocks to the bishops ". Children are still unsure and insecure, so few have recourse to such therapeutic irreverence. Parents face the same dilemma as teachers. They are torn between wanting to support and comfort their children through what may well seem profound, though hopefully temporary, grief, yet avoid turning their offspring into spineless wimps who implode at the slightest blow. Tough it or bluff it? In the end we tell lies, gently, of course, but in a good cause. I admit to feeling uneasy. When children bring home that hideously crafted papier mâché garden gnome, product of the school's "enterprise awareness" project to spawn future giants of commerce, do you say "That is such monstrous rubbish, any real business would go bust in seconds "? Or do you tender a fiver for Brickville primary school's business and enterprise project, so some nine-year-old "managing director" can open another "production line" and make even more of the unsaleable crap? The political response to "deferred success" was short. Ruth Kelly, something of an expert in the realm of failure, one would have thought, said that she gave it nought out of 10. The idea deserves a bit more reflection than that from the Duchess of Dudsville, but perhaps it takes a nought out of 10 to know one. Just think, Ruth, when you bore your audiences rigid by reading your speech like the speaking clock, patronise a room full of headteachers, alienate most of the teaching profession by turning down the Tomlinson report and then blaming the "education world" for clouding the debate and giving the wrong impression, these are not failures. No siree. As there is clearly even more to come, just think of them as deferred excess. http://education.guardian.co.uk/egweekly/s...1540409,00.html

First, set schools free from the suffocating hand of government. I once said to David Blunkett that the government was burying schools under silly prescriptions. He replied: "That's only what gets through. You should see the stuff I stop." Why does the government tell schools they must introduce a house system? Why does the 2002 Education Act require schools to write to you, the minister (and fill in a stupid form), if they want to innovate? What an insult. Second, Blairite or not, brass-neck it and tell the prime minister's policy unit to go and boil its head. Some of the barmiest schemes on the planet have emerged from its maw, like the attempt to introduce a third A-level, the Advanced Extension exam, when pupils and teachers were reeling under the impact of A- and AS-levels. Tickets for a long holiday in Albania are called for. To adapt the mantra of your mentor: tough on crap, tough on the causes of crap.

Ted Wragg is emeritus professor of education at Exeter University. He has taught in primary and secondary schools and in two universities. He has directed numerous research projects and is the author of over 40 books, several of which have been translated into other languages. He is a frequent broadcaster and writes regularly in newspapers.

The most irritating term ever used by politicians is the word "modernisation". Language is elastic for the powerful, who can make words mean whatever they want, but some notions of modernity defy belief. Worse, those against modernisation, as conceived by its protagonists, are labelled "conservative". In October 1999, Tony Blair used a speech to new headteachers to attack the profession, saying a mindset existed within teaching that was "one of the most powerful forces of conservatism in our society". This accusation was hurled at a profession that had implemented dozens of "initiatives" emanating from successive governments. The prime minister had made a similar attack on doctors. Significantly, it was during a speech to venture capitalists that he said he bore the scars on his back to prove his battles with public-sector workers. The message seemed to be: you business folk are progressive, the professions are conservative. Five years later, he was being treated for heart problems by some of these same "conservatives". Presumably they stuck a leech on his bum. Some professional people do resist change, but some politicians impose "modernisation" that isn't. What is modernising about making schools introduce uniforms and a house system? It is like inviting people on to an ocean liner and then giving them an oar, or modernising their bicycle by having a massive wheel at the front and a tiny one at the back. The modernisation ploy is accompanied by Big Lies. The first is that current practice is hopeless, when in fact some of it might be good. In his attacks on public service in 1999, Tony Blair said "Ten years ago, a 15-year-old probably couldn't work a computer. Now he's in danger of living on it." It was a lie. British schools had led the world in introducing computers. I chaired the national planning group of the Domesday Project, run by the BBC in 1985-86, to celebrate the 900th anniversary of the Domesday Book. More than a million young people in over 12,000 schools took part in a detailed survey of their own locality, using computers to collate their data. By comparison, many businesses at that time were light years behind in their use of technology. Another Big Lie is that whatever is being proposed actually constitutes a modernisation, when it may be the reintroduction of an old prejudice. What is forward-looking about telling teachers precisely what they should do every few minutes, as happened in the literacy and numeracy hours? When the cap on top-up fees is removed, as it undoubtedly will be, what is progressive about making university students pay a fortune to be educated at an elite university? Are those who oppose the "modernisation" of early-years education, through the introduction of 117 tickboxes for every five-year-old, merely wreckers and conservatives? A third Big Lie is that the modernisation has worked. Thank goodness educational improvement in Wales has exceeded that in England, without some of the celebrated modernisation paraphernalia, and improvements in science exceeded those in literacy and numeracy, even though teachers were not told what to do in every few minutes of a lesson. The worst current modernisation is the use of classroom assistants to teach classes on their own, as part of the workforce agreement. Although there are many brilliant people assisting teachers, they are not qualified to teach alone and should not be expected to do so, especially given the relatively poor remuneration. Allowing unqualified people to teach classes was precisely what happened in the 19th century. Other professionals, such as dentists, may have assistants, but they do not permit them to fill teeth and insert bridges. In this modernised world, teachers are required to apply to the minister to innovate, according to the 2002 Education Act, public schools are invited to run inner-city comprehensives, and fees for higher education reach prohibitive levels. If you are not a wrecker and force of conservatism, touch your forelock now and say, "I remain, sir, your obedient servant." It's the modern thing to do. http://education.guardian.co.uk/schools/co...1367650,00.html