The case against for-profit schools

There are no empirical grounds for handing state schools over to the private sector.

There are no empirical grounds for handing state schools over to the private sector.

In recent months we have seen a growing clamour from right-of-centre think tanks and conservative commentators for commercial providers to be able to set up and run schools for profit. The latest in a long line of think-tank reports putting the case for for-profit providers is to be published this week.

Proponents argue that commercial education providers will raise standards in our schools more rapidly and consistently than the existing mix of not-for profit academies, free schools or mainstream state schools. However, the evidence for this claim is weak.

What evidence exists is limited to a small number of cases: among developed countries only Sweden, some US states and Chile have experimented at scale with commercial providers of publicly funded schools. Among those cases, the performance of commercial providers is mixed. In some US states studies show for profits making little difference to pupil test scores compared to not for profits, while in others they do better. Analysis of the performance of free schools or their equivalents in Sweden and Chile show that not-for-profit free schools out perform for-profit free schools.

The OECD finds no evidence for the claim that private providers produce systematic improvements in school results. Rather, the OECD finds that the most important factors in raising educational standards are the quality of teaching, high levels of school autonomy coupled with robust accountability, and comprehensive strategies for narrowing attainment gaps between children from different class backgrounds.

It is sometimes alleged that only commercial education providers have an interest in expanding good schools, because they are driven by the profit motive to do so, whereas not-for-profit and state schools lack this incentive. Competition drives out weak providers and allows good ones to flourish and competition works best when private rewards are at stake.

Properly regulated competition can play a role in improving outcomes in public services. Managed competition in the NHS, of the kind pioneered by the former Labour government, has been shown to have improved productivity.

However, the evidence for the benefits of competition in education is not strong. The OECD's analysis of its 2009 PISA results is clear on this point, stating that 'countries that create a more competitive environment in which many schools compete for students do not systematically produce better results.'

A recent LSE study is often cited to prove that competition in education works. It found that the introduction of sponsored of academies in England by the last Labour government was accompanied by improvements in neighbouring schools. This was an important study, which showed Labour's sponsored academies improving at a faster rate than comparable schools. And contrary to recent claims, this held true even when GCSE equivalents were excluded from the data. The study offers good grounds for believing that allowing new providers into the school system can increase innovation and improve outcomes.

What the study does not show is that competition per se generated these improvements. It is just as likely that better results in schools near academies rose because of wider school improvement programme affecting all schools during that period.

There are good reasons why we should want a more diverse range of providers in our school system. They can bring new expertise, energy and innovation into state education. But they do not need either a competitive school environment to raise standards nor a profit motive to expand. England has a vibrant not for profit independent sector and there is no shortage of not for profit organisations willing to run academies and free schools. Many are expanding very successfully. There is therefore no strong case for introducing commercial providers on either innovation or competition grounds.

None of this is to say that there should be no role for the private sector in our schools system. Private companies already provide school support and careers services. In England we have seen the enormous growth in the use of private home tutors. A key challenge for policy makers is to ensure that this inevitable rise in parental spending on children's education does not lead to wider inequalities in educational attainment. For example, this could include allowing pupil premium funding to be used to pay for more one to one tuition for disadvantaged pupils provided by the private sector.

In all advanced economies, education systems are undergoing change and renewal, often at a rapid pace. Standing against reform is reactionary, not progressive. But we need the right reform. Schools themselves should not be run for profit. They are civic institutions at the heart of the public realm. Parents want to be able to trust that they always put the interests of their children first. There are no empirical, theoretical or normative grounds for handing them over to the private sector.

Rick Muir is Associate Director at IPPR

Rick Muir is director of the Police Foundation

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Jeremy Corbyn's fans must learn the art of compromise

On both sides of the Atlantic, democracy is threatened by a post-truth world. 

Twenty years ago, as a new and enthusiastic Labour MP, I wrote an article for The Observer in praise of spin. I argued that if citizens are to be properly informed and engaged in their democracy, politicians - and in particular governments - have a duty to craft their messages carefully and communicate them cogently. It was a controversial notion then but less so now that we have entered the era of post-truth politics. In the old days, we used to "manage" the truth. Now we have abandoned it. 

We’ve probably come further than we think, for when truth is discarded, reason generally follows. Without a general acceptance of the broad "facts" of any matter, there can be little basis for rational debate nor, therefore, for either the consensus or the respectful disagreement which should emerge from it. Without a commitment to truth, we are free to choose and believe in our own facts and to despise the facts of others. We are free too to place our faith in leaders who make the impossible seem possible. 

We condemn the dictatorships which deny their citizens the right to informed and open debate. But in our own societies, unreasoned and often irrational politics are entering the mainstream. 

The politics of unreason

In the UK, the Leave campaign blithely wedded brazen falsehood to the fantasy that Brexit would cure all ills – and millions of voters enthusiastically suspended their disbelief.  “We want our country back” was a potent slogan - but no less vacuous than the pledge to “make America great again” on which Donald Trump has founded his election campaign. On both sides of the Atlantic, people want to take back control they know they never had nor ever will.

Both campaigns have deliberately bypassed rational argument. They play instead to the emotional response of angry people for whom reason no longer makes sense. Since the time of Plato and Aristotle, democracy’s critics have warned of the ease with which reason can be subverted and citizens seduced by the false oratory of charismatic leaders. Trump is just the latest in a long line of the demagogues they feared. He may not make it to the White House, but he has come a long way on unreasoning rhetoric - and where he leads, millions faithfully follow. He has boasted that he could commit murder on Fifth Avenue without losing votes and he may well be right.

But if Trump is extreme, he is not exceptional. He is a phenomenon of a populism of both right and left which has once more begun to challenge the principles of parliamentary democracy.

Democracy in decline

All over Europe and the United States, consumer-citizens are exasperated by democracy’s failure to meet their demands as fully and as fast as they expect. If the market can guarantee next day delivery, why can’t government? The low esteem in which elected politicians are held is only partly the consequence of their failings and failures. It is also evidence of a growing disenchantment with representative democracy itself. We do not trust our politicians to reflect our priorities. Perhaps we never did. But now we’re no longer prepared to acknowledge their unenviable duty to arbitrate between competing political, social and economic imperatives, nor ours to accept the compromises they reach - at least until the next election.

We have become protesters against rather than participants in our politics and, emboldened by hearing our chosen facts and beliefs reverberating around cyber space, have become increasingly polarised and uncompromising in our protest. 

The Trumpy Corbynites

Which brings us to Labour. Despite the obvious political differences between Jeremy Corbyn and Donald Trump, there are striking similarities in the movements which have coalesced around them. For many of their supporters, they can simply do no wrong; each criticism provides further evidence of a corrupt establishment’s conspiracy against them; rivals, including those who share many of their beliefs, are anathematised; unbelievers are pursued across the internet; inconvenient facts are reinterpreted or ignored; rational, civil debate is shut down or drowned out. 

There are other similarities in these insurgencies: both mistake slogans for policies and mass rallies for popular support; both are overwhelming and quite possibly destroying their own parties – and both, ultimately, are movements without practical purpose.

Trump may give vivid expression to his followers’ grievances but, other than building a wall along the Mexican border, his plans for government are obscure. Similarly, while Corbyn and his supporters know what they’re against, they have not yet articulated a clear vision of what they’re for, much less how it can be achieved. For many of them, it is enough to be "anti-Blairite". 

But in disassociating themselves from a Labour prime minister’s mistakes, they are also dismissing their party’s achievements under his leadership. Their refusal to acknowledge the need for compromise may well enable them to avoid the pitfalls of government. But government’s potential to bring about at least some of the change they want does not come without pitfalls. In wanting it all, they are likely to end up with nothing.

The art of compromise

Democracy cannot be sustained simply by what passionate people oppose. And though movements such as Momentum have important roles to play in influencing political parties, they cannot replace them. Their supporters want to be right - and they often are. But they are rarely prepared to test their principles against the practical business of government. The members of political parties want, or should want, to govern and are prepared, albeit reluctantly, to compromise – with each other, with those they seek to represent, with events -  in order to do so. Parties should listen to movements. But movements, if they are to have any practical purpose, must acknowledge that, for all its limitations, the point of politics is power.

We have to trust that the majority of American voters will reject Donald Trump. But closer to home, if Labour is to have a future as a political force, Corbyn’s supporters must learn to respect the historic purpose of the Labour party at least as much as they admire the high  principles of its current leader. There isn’t long for that realisation to take hold.

In the UK as in the US and elsewhere, we need to rediscover the importance of common cause and the art of compromise in forging it. The alternative is a form of politics which is not only post-truth, post-reason and post-purpose, but also post-democratic. 

Peter Bradley is a former MP and director of Speakers' Corner Trust, a UK charity which promotes free speech, public debate and active citizenship.