This week's PR fail: the Department of Education and Megan Stammers

Teachers accused of offences against children: anonymous unless charged.

On Monday, legislation comes into force which means teachers accused of offences against children have lifelong anonymity unless they are charged.

Unfortunately for the Department of Education and teaching unions, this comes at the same time as a high-profile news story illustrating how ludicrous the new law is - that of Eastbourne teacher Jeremy Forrest who has now been discovered with 15-year-old schoolgirl Megan Stammers in Europe.

I can name him today, but as of Monday, who knows? This situation today prompted the Department of Education to put out a press release, the first sentence of which is the exact opposite of the truth.

A Department for Education spokesperson said:

This change will not affect cases like the one currently getting national attention. The police, media organisations and others will be able to apply to a magistrate for an order lifting teacher anonymity. If it is in the best interest of the child, this will be granted straightaway so the public can help the police. No teacher who has been charged with an offence, or where a warrant for arrest has been issued, will enjoy anonymity.

While situations like this are not common, it is the case that malicious and groundless allegations against teachers have been a serious problem in our schools. A survey for the Association of Teachers and Lecturers found that one in four school staff has been subject to false allegations from pupils. We want teachers to be confident that they can impose discipline without their careers and personal lives potentially being blighted by baseless claims.

Unfortunately the new law will affect cases exactly like the one currently getting national attention.

In future, the next time a teacher abducts a child in their care the police will have to go to a magistrate and argue the case for their right to anonymity to be waived. The order could well be opposed.

Anyone who has tried to get information out of a police press office will know that they can be pretty slow off the mark at the best of times when it comes to divulging information about recent crimes and this crazy piece of legislation is not going to help matters.

As an aside, the new legislation doesn't just affect the media - it means that parents who make accusations about teachers to each other could fall foul of the act. The result of all this will mean that teachers who have a reputation for overstepping the normal bounds of the teacher-child relationship, but are never convicted of anything, will move from school to school protected by lifelong anonymity over any accusations which may have been made about them.

Photograph: Getty Images

Dominic Ponsford is editor of Press Gazette

Getty Images
Show Hide image

Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war