The Eye in the Sky

Eyes aren't always symbols of humanness, as a brief perusal of the British transport system shows.

"We're watching out for you", proclaims a Network Rail poster in bold letters underneath an unnecessarily large picture of a CCTV camera. I can't be the only person who, every time I see the poster, misreads it as "We're watching you".

Given the amount of money I imagine Network Rail allocates poster campaigns such as this one, I wouldn't be in the least bit surprised if this "misreading" were intended. Normally, when we're treated to a black stencilled picture of a CCTV camera, it's to remind us not to steal, or smoke in the wrong place, or vandalise, or sit in the first class carriage. So naturally, these big blue posters with pictures of looming CCTV cameras on them make the skin crawl before the text beneath has had a chance to reassure commuters of how much Network Rail cares about them.

Queensland Rail in Australia are also at it. On their website they reassure their paranoid customers with an image of a bold exclamation mark inside a big red triangle. This symbol is more commonly associated with the word "danger" than "safety". Yet without a hint of irony, they go on to assure customers that they want "to help you feel safe and secure", before announcing that "we're watching out for you with 6,800 CCTV cameras".

At least Luas tramways in Dublin avoid the doublespeak and freely admit, in what could be a paraphrase of the Big Brother mantra, "CCTV is watching you".

 

Another publicity campaign that seems to deliberately subvert the message it purports to be sending is the series of tube posters that resemble the dust jackets to a 70s reprint of Nineteen-Eighty Four. Stylised drawings of eyes, ears and lips bounce out from every wall of the underground, reminding law-abiding citizens to report "anything suspicious" to "our staff" - a nebulous and undefined body of TfL security personnel, probably by now outsourced to Serco, who presumably lurk behind those creepy, flashing, beeping mobile bin machines in flak jackets and ski masks, ready to frisk anyone who looks a bit too Muslim.

In New York, a similar "security" campaign has churned out thousands of bright yellow posters that boast "there are 16 million eyes in the city". In order to remind people what eyes are, the poster depicts 12 sets of them. One can't help but be reminded of the "Big Brother is Watching You" poster in Nineteen Eighty-Four, whose "eyes follow you about when you move".

San Francisco International Airport went for a more minimalist approach with their sign inviting travellers to report suspicious activity, but the end product was no less creepy for it:

"Secure Beneath the Watchful Eyes" - the 2002 Transport for London (TfL) posters that resemble the front cover of a Philip K Dick paperback - has a distinctly Juche ring to it, resonant of Bradley K Martin's authoritative title on North Korea: Under the Loving Care of the Fatherly Leader. Which should come as no surprise, given that Britain has more CCTV cameras per capita than North Korea does.

These posters, purportedly erected to reassure London citizens, are eerily reminiscent of over-the-top book sleeves for dystopian novels:

There is a serious point here, though. A study by Newcastle University, which found that people put more money in honesty boxes when a picture
of eyes was on the wall, inspired West Midland Police's "Operation Momentum" - a poster campaign with the tagline "We've got our eye on criminals."

The strategy is not a new one. The US Homeland Security Department used the spectre of a (not very subtly disguised) German-atron peeking over the next door fence to encourage curtain-twitchers the nation over to join in the fight against Nazism.

It seems the West Midland's strategy may well have trickled down to the Met and TfL, who have both incorporated pictures of eyes as central aspects of their poster campaigns. The image of an eye gives the impression of surveillance, even if there is no one doing the surveilling. It contributes to a psychological climate of paranoia and self-consciousness that arguably does away with the need for actual CCTV cameras. The image of a CCTV camera itself is perhaps more powerful in this respect. CCTV cameras make us think of surveillance, but with that additional degree of removal from the surveillor. Pictures of CCTV cameras, or dehumanised eyes like those the TfL assures us we are "secure beneath", create the impression of being subjects in a system - one that is not human, and that we are powerless to affect.

Something else non-human is the tannoy voice at King's Cross station. Tannoy lady has a mechanical rasp devoid of inflection or emotion. One imagines she has a very limited sense of humour. The metallic clang of her voice reverberates around the station, reminding passengers that
"security personnel patrol this station for purposes of safety and security". In the spirit of belt-tightening, they may well have cobbled together this humanoid's repertoire from the sweepings of film reel that didn't make the final cut of 2001: A Space Odyssey. I feel like I'm in Children of Men and always half expect the train to roll past a cage full of infertile refugees.

Anyone worried that the state is becoming too voyeuristic can find solace in the fact that surveillance is, in a salutary example of the Big Society in action, being outsourced to ordinary people. The website Internet Eyes offers lonely people who are bored of masturbating the opportunity to monitor live CCTV feeds and report suspecting wrongdoing or "suspicious activity" to business owners. In a plug on the website, founder and CEO Tom Morgan explains that citizens can "assist our already overworked police and security staff by becoming that extra pair of eyes."

There is clearly great power in the image of human eyes. And often, far from being comforting or human, they are intimidating and soulless, feeding a paranoia that can be harnessed for political ends. From the Sun God Ra, to the Illuminati triangle found on the US dollar, to WWII and current anti-terrorism propaganda, eyes have been used as symbols of power, to impress, discipline and threaten. We would do well to remember the power of such symbolism the next time we pass a poster purporting to make us feel safe.

A protest in 2016. Getty
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Fewer teachers, more pupils and no more money. Schools are struggling

With grammars and universal school meals, both main parties have decided to answer policy questions no one is asking.

If you ask people in Britain what the ­biggest political issues are, schools don’t make the top five. Yet last week Labour set its first party political broadcast in a fictional classroom where a teacher described Jeremy Corbyn’s plans for schools’ future. Without a Labour government, the teacher opines, there will be no more libraries, or teachers, or school trips. Though the scenario is a flagrant breach of the law – teachers must remain politically impartial – education isn’t a bad place for Labour to start its campaign. Schools really are quite screwed.

Three things are hitting hard. Schools have less money, fewer people want to be teachers, and an avalanche of under-sevens is hitting the playgrounds and won’t stop for several more years.

How did we get here? In 2015 the Conservatives pledged to keep school funding at the same rate per pupil over the lifetime of the parliament. Yet while the money coming in has remained flat, schools have faced huge hikes in costs, particularly staffing. Big increases in mandatory pension contributions and National Insurance have taken their toll; so has the apprenticeship levy. The
Institute for Fiscal Studies estimates that all told, schools will have lost about 8 per cent of their budget by 2020. That’s £3bn of savings that must be found. Or, more bluntly, the starting salaries of 100,000 teachers.

It is worth remembering at this point how huge the schools sector is and how many people are affected. About half a million teachers work in the 20,000-plus state schools. A further 300,000 people work in allied professions. There are eight million children and an estimated 12 million parents. Lump in their grandparents, and it’s fair to say that about 20 million voters are affected by schools in one way or another.

The budget squeeze is leading many of these schools to drastic measures: firing teachers, increasing class sizes, cutting music from the curriculum, charging parents for their child’s place on a sports team, dropping transport provision, and so on. Begging letters to parents for donations have become commonplace; some have asked for contributions of up to £60 a month.

On top of money worries, teachers are abandoning the profession. In 2015, an additional 18,000 went to work in international schools – more than were trained at universities over the same year. They joined the 80,000 teachers already working in British schools abroad, attracted by higher pay and better working conditions.

Graduates are also snubbing teaching. With starting salaries increasing at less than 1 per cent a year since 2010, new teachers are now paid about 20 per cent less than the average graduate trainee. Changes to higher education are also such that trainees must now pay £9,000 in order to gain their teaching qualification through a university. The government has missed its target for teacher trainees for five years now, and there is no coherent plan for hitting it.

No money and no teachers is less of a problem if you are in a demographic dip. We had a bizarrely low birth rate at the turn of the century, so we currently have a historically small proportion of teens. Unfortunately, the generation just behind them, of seven-year-olds and under, is enormous. Why? Because the “baby echoers”, born in the 1970s to the baby boomers, had children a bit later than their parents. Add to that the children recently born to immigrants who arrived in their twenties when the European Union expanded in the early 2000s, and Britain is facing an El Niño of toddlers. By 2025 a million extra children will be in the school system than in 2010.

To keep on top of the boom the government has been creating schools like a Tasmanian devil playing Minecraft. But 175,000 more places will be needed in the next three years. That’s the equivalent of one new secondary school per week from now until 2020.

In fairness, the government and councils have put aside money for additional buildings, and roughly the same number of parents are getting their first-choice school as before. The free schools policy, which delivers new schools, has not always been well managed, but it is now more efficient and targeted. However, many more children combined with squeezed budgets and fewer teachers typically leads to bigger class sizes. Most classrooms were built to house 30 pupils. Exam results may not get worse, but no parent wants their child working on a makeshift desk improvised out of a windowsill.

Instead of addressing these challenges, both main parties have decided to answer policy questions no one is asking. Theresa May wants more grammar schools, ostensibly because they will give more choice to parents – though these are the only schools that pick pupils, as opposed to the other way around. And she says they will aid social mobility, though all the evidence (and I really do mean all) suggests the opposite.

Jeremy Corbyn, meanwhile, is offering free lunches to all seven-to-11-year-olds, which sounds worthy until you realise that children from low-income families already get free lunch, and that feeding every child a hot sit-down meal is virtually impossible, given the limited space and kitchen facilities in most schools. Plus, the evidence this £1bn policy would make any significant difference
to health or attainment is pretty sketchy. Labour has also sensibly talked about cash and promised to “fully fund” schools, but it isn’t clear what that means.

What’s missing so far from the Conservatives and Labour alike is a set of policies about teacher recruitment or place planning. The sector needs to know how schools will be built, and where the teachers will come from for the extra kids. In other words, the message to both sides is – must try harder.

Laura McInerney is the editor of Schools Week and a former teacher

Laura McInerney taught in East London for six years and is now studying on a Fulbright scholarship at the University of Missouri. She also works as Policy Partner at LKMCo.

This article first appeared in the 27 April 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Cool Britannia 20 Years On

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