Targets. They hurt, but (sometimes) they work

A u-turn on NHS waiting times shows the Conservatives have realised how hard it is getting things do

The Guardian reports today that the government has been forced to re-instate something resembling the old target for waiting times. Labour imposed a limit of 18 weeks as the maximum amount a patient should have to wait for an operation. The target was scrapped by Health Secretary Andrew Lansley since it represented an "arbitrary", "top down" bureaucratic approach. This, it was imagined, would be unnecessary because reforms would deliver a newly efficient, ultra-responsive market in health care in which patients' needs would be accommodated by the profusion of competing providers. Clearly, things aren't quite working out that way and a modified version of the 18-week limit will be back in place in the New Year.

The Conservatives in opposition were routinely scathing about targets, which, they argued, skewed outcomes by creating perverse incentives. Plainly this was true some of the time. A target of holding down waiting times in accident and emergency wards, for example, sometimes resulted in patients simply being sent away. And there is no doubt that New Labour came to rely too much on targets across Whitehall as a way to force the civil service to deliver what had been pledged by ministers, which was demoralising for the departments and skewed priorities.

But the reason Labour used targets so freely was because there weren't many other ways to make civil servants focus relentlessly on the government's priorities. They worked.

Many Conservatives in opposition persuaded themselves that Labour simply liked being bossy and controlling because that is what statist lefties do. I remember a conversation with a shadow minister (now a minister) before the election who told me with pride how he had deliberately not written any performance measures into a policy green paper because the Tory way was to create incentives and trust people, not to regulate them with targets. And what if the incentives aren't taken up? I asked. "We'll come up with better incentives."

In the early days of the coalition, a number of senior civil servants reported being told by incoming Tory ministers that the kind of measurements and targets that had previously been used to check performance in the system were no longer required because "that's not how we do things." It was an ideological shibboleth.

18 months into government, ministers are now finding - as was predictable - that without targets and specific performance measures, policies and pledges get lost in the system. Crudely speaking, unless someone is leaning down hard from above asking hard questions about why targets aren't met, nothing seems to happen. The appalling word that Downing Street under Tony Blair used to use for this stuff was "deliverology" - the art (or science, depending on your point of view) of actually getting things done in government.

It is becoming increasingly clear that David Cameron, with his predilection for presidential floating above the fray, has neglected this area. Steve Hilton, his policy chief, is constantly exercised by it but he tends to think the problem lies in all forms of bureaucracy and civil servants not being dynamic, professional or generally enough like private sector entrepreneurs feverishly making change happen like a bunch of Berkeley graduates building a start-up social enterprise in a San Francisco garage. Maybe it would be nice if Whitehall mandarins were a bit more like that. But it isn't going to happen soon. So for the time being, it looks like it has to be targets.

Of course, this government isn't entirely hostile to the idea of setting arbitrary benchmarks for performance. It is committed to bringing annual net migration down to below 100,000. When the public get really cross about something, out come the targets. That tells us something about the u-turn on operation waiting times. Clearly ministers are very nervous about the growing backlash against changes in the NHS.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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"Michael Gove is a nasty bit of work": A Thatcherite's lonely crusade for technical colleges

Kenneth Baker, Margaret Thatcher's education secretary, has been in a war of words with one of his successors. 

When I meet Kenneth Baker, once Margaret Thatcher’s reforming education secretary, conversation quickly turns to an unexpected coincidence. We are old boys of the same school: a sixth-form college in Southport that was, in Baker’s day, the local grammar. Fittingly for a man enraged by the exclusion of technical subjects from the modern curriculum, he can only recall one lesson: carpentry.

Seven decades on, Lord Baker – who counts Sats, the national curriculum, league tables, and student loans among his innovations – is still preoccupied with technical education. His charity, the Baker Dearing Educational Trust, oversees university technical colleges (UTCs), the specialist free schools that work with businesses and higher education institutions to provide a vocational curriculum for students aged 14-19. He is also a working peer, and a doughty evangelist for technical education and apprenticeships in the upper chamber. 

But when we meet at the charity’s glass-panelled Westminster office at 4 Millbank, he is on the defensive – and with good reason. Recent weeks have been particularly unkind to the project that, aged 82, he still works full-time to promote. First, a technical college in Oldham, Greater Manchester, became the seventh to close its doors since 2015. In three years, not one of its pupils passed a single GCSE, and locals complained it had become a “dumping ground” for the most troubled and disruptive children from Oldham’s other schools (Baker agrees, and puts the closure down to “bad governorship and bad headship”). 

Then, with customary chutzpah, came Michael Gove. In the week of the closure, the former education secretary declared in his Times column that the UTCs project had failed. "The commonest error in politics," he wrote, quoting Lord Salisbury, "is sticking to the carcasses of dead policies". Baker is now embroiled in a remarkable – and increasingly bitter – war of words with his successor and one-time colleague.

It wasn't always this way. In 2013, with UTCs still in their infancy, he told the New Statesman the then education secretary was “a friend”, despite their disagreements on the curriculum. The bonhomie has not lasted. In the course of our hour-long conversation, Gove is derided as “a nasty bit of work”, “very vindictive”, “completely out of touch”, and “Brutus Gove and all the rest of it”. (Three days after we speak, Baker renews their animus with a blistering op-ed for The Telegraph, claiming Gove embraced UTCs about as warmly as “an undertaker”.)

In all of this, Gove, who speaks warmly of Baker, has presented himself as having been initially supportive of the project. He was, after all, the education secretary who gave them the green light. Not so, his one-time colleague says. While David Cameron (Baker's former PA) and George Osborne showed pragmatic enthusiasm, Gove “was pretty reluctant from the word go”.

“Gove has his own theory of education,” Baker tells me. He believes Gove is in thrall to the American educationalist E.D. Hirsch, who believes in focusing on offering children a core academic diet of subjects, whatever their background. "He doesn’t think that schools should worry about employability at all," Baker says. "He thinks as long as you get the basic education right, everything will be fine. That isn’t going to happen – it isn’t how life works!" 

Baker is fond of comparing Gove’s heavily academic English baccalaureate to the similarly narrow School Certificate he sat in 1951, as well as the curriculum of 1904 (there is seldom an interview with Baker that doesn’t feature this comparison). He believes his junior's divisive tenure changed the state sector for the worse: “It’s appalling what’s happening in our schools! The squeezing out of not only design and technology, but drama, music, art – they’re all going down at GCSE, year by year. Now children are just studying a basic eight subjects. I think that’s completely wrong.” 

UTCs, with their university sponsors, workplace ethos (teaching hours coincide with the standard 9-5 working day and pupils wear business dress), and specialist curricula, are Baker's solution. The 46 existing institutions teach 11,500 children, and there are several notable success stories. GCHQ has opened a cyber-security suite at the UTC in Scarborough, North Yorkshire, as part of a bid to diversify its workforce. Just 0.5 per cent of UTC graduates are unemployed, compared to 11.5 per cent of all 18-year-olds. 

But they are not without their critics. Teaching unions have complained that their presence fragments education provision and funding, and others point out that hard-up schools in disadvantaged areas have little desire or incentive to give up children – and the funding they bring – at 14. Ofsted rate twice as many UTCs as inadequate as they do outstanding. Gove doubts that the vocational qualifications on offer are as robust as their academic equivalents, or anywhere near as attractive for middle-class parents. He also considers 14 is too young an age for pupils to pursue a specialist course of vocational study.

Baker accepts that many of his colleges are seen as “useless, wastes of money, monuments to Baker’s vanity and all the rest of it”, but maintains the project is only just finding its legs. He is more hopeful about the current education secretary, Justine Greening, who he believes is an admirer. Indeed, UTCs could provide Greening with a trump card in the vexed debate over grammar schools – last year’s green paper suggested pupils would be able to join new selective institutions at 14, and Baker has long believed specialist academic institutions should complement UTCs.

Discussion of Theresa May’s education policy has tended to start and finish at grammar schools. But Baker believes the conversation could soon be dominated by a much more pressing issue: the financial collapse of multi-academy trusts and the prospect of an NHS-style funding crisis blighting the nation’s schools. Although his city technology colleges may have paved the way for the removal of more and more schools from the control of local authorities, he, perhaps surprisingly, defends a connection to the state.

“What is missing now in the whole education system is that broker in the middle, to balance the demands of education with the funds available," he says. "I think by 2020 all these multi-academy trusts will be like the hospitals... If MATs get into trouble, their immediate cry will be: ‘We need more money!’ We need more teachers, we need more resources, and all the rest of it!’."

It is clear that he is more alert to coming challenges, such as automation, than many politicians half his age. Halfway through our conversation, he leaves the room and returns enthusiastically toting a picture of an driverless lorry. It transpires that this Thatcherite is even increasingly receptive to the idea of the ultimate state handout: a universal basic income. “There’s one part of me that says: ‘How awful to give someone a sum for doing nothing! What are they going to do, for heaven’s sake, for Christ’s sake!’" he says. "But on the other hand, I think the drawback to the four-day working week or four-hour working day... I think it’s going to happen in your lifetime. If people are only working for a very short space of time, they will have to have some sort of basic income.” 

Predictably, the upshot of this vignette is that his beloved UTCs and their multi-skilled graduates are part of the solution. Friend and foe alike praise Baker’s indefatigable dedication to the cause. But, with the ranks of doubters growing and the axe likely to fall on at least one of its institutions again, it remains to be seen in what form the programme will survive.

Despite the ignominy of the last few weeks, however, Baker is typically forthright: “I sense a turning of the tide in our way now. But I still fight. I fight for every bloody one.”