I wasn’t planning on blogging again so soon, as I’m
extremely busy at the moment with one thing and another, but I couldn’t resist
the way that my previous and current professional interests (education and
public health policy) combined on Wednesday.
The BMJ published what I thought was a reasonable, clear editorial
about the role of public health in education. I have to confess I hadn’t been hoping for
much – as regular readers will know, I’m quietly sceptical of public
health’s tendency towards empire building.
In fact, I was pleasantly surprised.
A very strong response was then posted
on the Red Head Full of Steam (RHFOS) blog, which I came across via Chris Snowdon’s Twitter
feed. Having read the original
article, this post struck me as pretty odd, and links to Gerard Hastings’ (admittedly
strange) presentation at Southampton University were a bit out place.
The main suggestion of the editorial was that education
shouldn’t be too narrowly defined to focus exclusively on academic attainment –
and it crucially pointed out that broader work can be helpful not just to
health and happiness, but also to academic attainment itself. So this needn’t be seen as a zero sum game whereby
time spent on ‘health’-related work detracts from ‘academic’-related work. In fact, there are initiatives that build
things like ‘resilience’ and team-working (though I dislike both those terms)
that are simply based not on the content being taught, but the ways in which
it is taught.
The response on RHFOS focused on how strange it was to
suggest that schools should do anything more than seek to maximise academic
attainment, with Chris summing
the editorial up as Public Health complaining that schools focus on education. There was also the point made by RHFOS that
if we’re concerned about people drifting off into what are often labelled ‘risky’
behaviours (drinking, smoking, drug-taking, truancy etc) then a focus on
academic attainment might actually be a good idea because we know this is
correlated with income later in life, and low-income is associated with all
these issues – not just for the individual concerned, but also those around
them including their children.
To a certain extent this misses the point: interventions
like the Good
Behaviour Game improve both ‘resilience’ or health and academic
attainment.
However, there’s something more fundamental going on
here. The reason RHFOS and Chris are
sceptical about the place of interventions to improve public health in
education is that they hold of particular view of what education is, or should
be.
When I suggested to Chris that he was thinking of education
a bit narrowly, he countered that a narrower view would be a good idea:
focusing on reading and writing.
In such a statement there’s already an understanding of what
education should be, but it’s still an open question about what it’s for. Why reading and writing specifically? Are these skills to be used in a particular
way, and to what end, or is there something inherent in having the skills that
is good?
I have absolutely no time for the facile phrase ‘education
for education’s sake’. It’s meaningless,
and the kind of woolly thinking that underlies it even gets to people as high
up the academic tree as Stefan Collini (don’t whatever you do waste any time
reading his book What are Universities For?).
Education means a leading out – and thus implies leaving something
behind and moving towards something. If
you’re leading someone, you’re taking them somewhere, whether deliberately or
not, so having some idea of where you’re aiming for seems to be a good idea.
Of course, the objection to interventions related to public
health isn’t necessarily based on ‘education for education’s sake’. There’s simply an assumption that academic
achievement should take primacy – maybe that’s what children are being led
to. But actually academic achievement –
however measured – isn’t an end in itself.
The achievement or knowledge isn’t useful or helpful in itself. Either it’s a means to self-sufficiency or
prosperity in some economic sense, or it’s about something approaching the
‘good’, or fulfilment. (In fact, choosing the former says something about your views on the latter.)
The argument on RHFOS seems to suggest that academic
achievement is a good basis for economic stability later in life. But there’s considerable evidence
that academic attainment isn’t itself what leads to that prosperity; it’s just
as likely a signal of an individual’s broader attributes – perhaps that they
are hardworking and disciplined, since they’ve managed to achieve so much at
school or university.
To place emphasis on the signal, rather than the underlying
skills, seems an odd way to go about things, and it can’t really resolve any of
the issues relating to inequality or poverty that are hinted at by RHFOS if the
underlying structures that produce the differences in outcome aren’t addressed. If you improve everyone’s academic attainment
without that affecting the underlying economic structure then all you get is
inflation of qualifications, which is precisely the situation Britain finds
itself in today, when more and
more professions require postgraduate qualifications simply to distinguish the
hordes of applicants from each other.
This idea of a signalling function and qualification
inflation, though, mostly relates to the later stages of education, and most of the
interventions the BMJ editorial is (implicitly) referring to could equally apply in primary schools. It seems that most
of the economic returns to a society from education come from the earlier years
– and in fact these years make a disproportionate contribution to an individual’s
success in later life. (Just one reason
why it’s strange we ratchet up spend per pupil as they get older.) So perhaps that makes the need to focus on academic attainment in those years even more important.
This idea of an emphasis on early years and basic skills might
support Chris’ point about focusing on reading and writing – so what am I
complaining about? Well, education, I
would suggest, should be about something more.
Or rather, it is about something more, whether we like it or
not. Literacy and numeracy are not the
only knowledge and skills one might want in life, and so if we simply select
these as being the appropriate elements of schooling we are making a choice
that says something about our particular priorities as a society. Without wishing to sound like Matthew Arnold,
with his idea of ‘sweetness
and light’, I think this sort of selection suggests a narrow, somewhat
instrumental view of a child’s future.
In any case, such a choice would reflect a specific understanding of ‘the
good’, and it might be one most people can agree on – but it is in no way
neutral, and to pretend it is would be to obscure some fundamental moral and
cultural beliefs.
Education, if it is anything, is to prepare people for life;
nothing more, and nothing less. Whether
we like it or not, any education system will betray some underlying values, so
we’d better be clear and open about what those are, and debate them.
Moreover, I have a feeling that the ‘narrow measures of attainment’
Adam Fletcher talks about in the
Independent article RHFOS quotes are league table metrics by which schools
are judged, not pupils. Those are
misleading and, like most targets, spawn perverse incentives: to focus on those
on the C/D boundary at GCSE, rather than those at either end of the spectrum.
I’d suggest you read the editorial. It’s really rather good.