Will Michael Gove’s school reforms push up standards?

The evidence from Sweden ain’t great.

My column in this week's magazine addresses -- and criticises -- the Education Secretary Michael Gove's plan to expand the previous government's academies programme.

I didn't have time or space to scrutinise the other key (and controversial) plank of his proposed reforms to the education sector: the introduction of Swedish-style "free schools". But the Institute of Education's Rebecca Allen has, in an article in the latest issue of Research in Public Policy (published by the Centre for Market and Public Organisation), and the overall results don't make great reading for Gove and his allies.

From the press release:

Research on Sweden's "free school" reforms suggests that the entry of new schools had a positive effect on pupils' academic achievements. But according to a survey of the evidence by Rebecca Allen, the benefits are small, they are predominantly focused on children from highly educated families and they do not persist: scores are no higher in the end-of-school exams.

Allen concludes that the experience of Sweden is helpful, but necessarily limited, in the extent to which it can help predict the impact of school reforms in England. One reason for this is that the schools also underwent a radical decentralisation of the education system, which would seem to be critical for promoting diversity and productivity gains through experimentation in free schools.

Sweden also has fewer reasons to be concerned that a free school system will produce greater school stratification since the country's lower levels of income and skill inequalities mean there is far less need for parents to choose schools based on social composition. It is also possible that Sweden's stronger tradition of non-standard schooling -- such as Steiner and Montessori schools -- is leading to a greater diversity of provision than parents in England would ever demand.


Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.