The problem of low educational attainment among white working class students

What can we do about it?

 

“Halfway There” - an encouraging title for the iconic report on comprehensive schools written forty years ago by Caroline Benn and Brian Simon, is now quite a cross party theme. Stephen Twigg borrowed the phrase last autumn, adding that Labour’s One Nation Education system (details tbc) will demand renewed vision and a challenge to orthodoxies. For the coalition, David Laws recently described the education service as “around M on a journey from A to Z” which is halfway by any other name. If the politicians are right, then schools have been stuck since 1970 or their destination, like the boundary of the universe, is accelerating away from us. The halfway theme suggests a consensus about where we started, where we are and, critically, where we are going. Instead, we are all over the place on both service design and the content of the curriculum.

Where we decide the journey started is least important. The past provides food for thought but epochs and key dates are the stuff of exam questions. For all the difference it makes, we can choose from any of the new dawns between 1870 (first School Boards) and 1988 (Margaret Thatcher’s Education Reform Act). Knowing where we have been is no guarantee of agreement about where we are now still less where we should be heading.

We ought to be heading deeper into the 21st Century. Today’s pupils, many of whom will live beyond this century, are what Bill Gates, e-compass set dead ahead, calls “digital natives caught up in an industrial-age learning model”.  Michael Gove, apparently selecting reverse gear, quotes Hirsch and Gramsci to argue that political progressivism demands educational conservatism. If we add equity to modernity and characterise our ideal destination as a contemporary education with fair outcomes, then at the moment we are not so much travelling as in a hole, digging.  

We are confused about the knowledge, skills and emotional intelligence we want young people to develop – and whether we can assess the outcomes without corrupting the learning. We are squabbling over the design of services for children which risk becoming less coherently systemic and more incoherently commercial by the day.  We are bogged down in our failure to deal with the paradox of education as both an individual and a public commodity. That is more than just a civic failure to reduce stratification and to promote equity, it is brazen political collusion with segmentation and inequity. An enduring feature of this paradox and consequent failures has been the poor attainment, on average, of pupils from low income “white British” families. Always an ethical problem, the social harm of poor attainment became starkly evident once the demand for unskilled, manual and predominantly male workers began to evaporate and young women started to anticipate economic independence with a career in their own right.

The figures are stubbornly consistent even though there are challenges to the categories used. In England, year after year, the group with the lowest average educational attainment is white British students from low income families.  Whether this is the worst of our endemic educational inequities is arguable. Boys, for example, perform less well than girls at GCSE though the limited subject choices made by girls might be evidence of another sort of inequity.  Overall, “black Caribbean” students do less well than students from any other background. The one in seven students eligible for free school meals (FSM) do less well on average than those who are not. We should be mindful that these disappointing trends and averages also obscure triumphs and outstanding performances in every group.  Nevertheless, the differences between groups are significant and any inequity which undermines the right of a child to fulfil his or her talent is intolerable.

Last year, less than a third of white British students eligible for FSM reached the national GCSE target of 5A*-C passes including English and Maths (for boys the proportion was barely a quarter, for girls just above a third). More than double that proportion (63 per cent) of white British students not eligible for FSM reached the national target. No other ethnic group has anything like such a large gap between its FSM and non-FSM students. FSM students do better on average in schools where they are a low proportion of students (often as a result of more or less overt selection) or a high proportion (schools appearing to match their work to a largely disadvantaged student body).  Of the twenty local authorities with the highest FSM attainment, all except Birmingham are London Boroughs.  Nationally, only one in twenty students in grammar schools are eligible for FSM and the gains for those few are usually offset by the lower attainment of the remainder.  Research using socio-economic categories other than FSM confirms these trends but there is a glimmer of good news: the average performance of fsm students has improved over the past decade.  If the 2007 FSM pass rate had still applied last year, 12,000 fewer FSM students would have reached the national target. Unfortunately, because the non-FSM group’s performance had also improved over that period, the gap between the two groups eased only two percentage points (from 28 per cent to 26 per cent).  

Blame for low attainment tends to shift with prevailing fashion from schools to families and back again. So schools are good and families dysfunctional or schools create inequity and families are undermined. The current fashion is for a more technical solution. Government mandates or market forces, according to political preference, are used to orchestrate every school into mimicking the highest attaining. Unfortunately, governments have an apparently wilful inability to distinguish institutional high attainment (which is often supported by selection of one kind or another) from high leverage (where great leadership and teaching contribute to extraordinary results).  Following that confusion to its absurd conclusion would have every school aiming to become a girls’ school, preferably relocated to London and sifting its admission on the basis of its voluntary aided or academy status. To reduce the gradient of attainment across groups to its minimum, we should be interested in three particularly English features of the inextricably complicated mix of individual and social causes: ambition, parental support and school quality.  

Ambition finally rescues most of us from our adolescence. If young people from white British low income families have an ambition deficit it does not arrive until late in their school careers. Up until then, research confirms, they and their parents tend to have ambitions to all intents like those of higher earning families. That ambition evaporates because of a faultline between its two elements, aspiration (what young people hope for) and expectation (what they think will really happen).  Uniquely, the expectations of low income white British students haemorrhage along with their academic performance as they move through secondary education. On average, this is both an absolute and a comparative collapse. A reality appears to dawn on many of these students which is not widely shared by other socio-economic or ethnic groups. It is rooted in the oral history of static or declining status across living generations and, perhaps more importantly, in the disheartening narrative of young people just a few years older. These are the once admired boys and girls from a few years ahead whose school leaving has provided mean prospects and little self-respect.  

Unless a parent or two can hold it steady, the forever rickety educational ladder to social mobility, will slide from under these students. Commentators refer sloppily to “parental involvement” with an encouraging glow but little substance about what they mean or what bits of it are most useful. It is, in part, about warm relationships and encouragement overcoming the debilitating corrosion of poverty. Whether an infant plays with the latest John Lewis gizmo or a bag of clothes pegs seems less important than whether a caring adult talks with them about it.  Later, it has something to do with understanding how to support learning, what schools expect, how to negotiate secondary transfer, what GCSE or A Levels to choose, which 16+ and 18+ opportunities to go for, how to write an application and, crucially, how to get back on track after setbacks and disappointments. These are not the natural strengths of low income families. Schools which successfully help them to navigate through can often confirm the research findings that high dropout rates emerge if the wrap around unravels at 11, 16 or even 18.

Because good school provision has a greater positive effect for low income students, the persistent association between areas of deprivation and schools in an Ofsted category of concern is breathtaking. When choice is available, children from low income families are less likely to attend good schools than other children even from the same area. Schools serving areas of high deprivation have difficulties recruiting governors, headteachers and teachers. . They are more likely to have staff shortages and their students more likely to find themselves in classes with less experienced and lower qualified teachers. No commercial organisation would tolerate being so incapable of deploying its best personnel where they are most needed.

There is no silver bullet to solve these problems.  A strong economy and the prospect of well-paid work would help enormously and schools in isolation can have only a limited effect. Nevertheless, the difference some schools make in individual lives is critical. The small number of schools which buck the trend do the basics of teaching and care with energy, enthusiasm, implacable determination and a high degree of specificity. To spread that approach, the coalition has put its trust in market forces and the Pupil Premium (£900 per child next year) paid to schools for “disadvantaged” pupils. There are already concerns about how the Premium is spent and the market will surely do what markets do, favour wealth and power. In contrast, the remarkable turnaround in London schools, by far the most improved in the country, was instigated and sustained by state intervention, the London Challenge, albeit and importantly focussed on the creation of local capacity and accountability.

A national response to low attainment needs to engineer challenging collegiality rather than dysfunctional competition into the system. It will need to lever excellent school staff into the most deprived areas and encourage them to explore and use evidence of what works. There must also be spaces for disciplined experiment. There are twenty-four Enterprise Zones around the country supporting business development with financial incentives, sector specialisms, simplified planning procedures and a “business-ready infrastructure”. Is it less important to do something similar for children? In its recent report, Developing Children’s Zones for England, the charity Save the Children argues that there is a foundation for localism in England, much to learn from previous area based initiatives and something to explore in otherwise inimitable children’s zones abroad. The report concludes with conviction that a distinctly English version of children’s zones could connect the considerable resources and expertise already invested in work with children and families through schools, public services and the third sector by capitalising on the changing relationships between the sectors. Where are the half dozen localities in which a broad range of partners are prepared to collaborate by autonomous consent under a single governance structure, analyse how disadvantage “works” in their areas, formulate a strategic plan for tackling disadvantage across the neighbourhood for a good few years, leverage in additional funding and resources, do all of that under the scrutiny of a robust local strategy for evaluation and offer a platform from which the country can learn what has worked and what has not?

Denis Mongon is Visiting Professorial Fellow at London University’s Institute of Education and Senior Associate at the Innovation Unit. He is co-author of “School Leadership for Public Value and of High-Leverage Leadership: improving outcomes in educational settings”.

We need a strategic plan for tackling disadvantage. Photograph: Getty Images
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Is defeat in Stoke the beginning of the end for Paul Nuttall?

The Ukip leader was his party's unity candidate. But after his defeat in Stoke, the old divisions are beginning to show again

In a speech to Ukip’s spring conference in Bolton on February 17, the party’s once and probably future leader Nigel Farage laid down the gauntlet for his successor, Paul Nuttall. Stoke’s by-election was “fundamental” to the future of the party – and Nuttall had to win.
 
One week on, Nuttall has failed that test miserably and thrown the fundamental questions hanging over Ukip’s future into harsh relief. 

For all his bullish talk of supplanting Labour in its industrial heartlands, the Ukip leader only managed to increase the party’s vote share by 2.2 percentage points on 2015. This paltry increase came despite Stoke’s 70 per cent Brexit majority, and a media narrative that was, until the revelations around Nuttall and Hillsborough, talking the party’s chances up.
 
So what now for Nuttall? There is, for the time being, little chance of him resigning – and, in truth, few inside Ukip expected him to win. Nuttall was relying on two well-rehearsed lines as get-out-of-jail free cards very early on in the campaign. 

The first was that the seat was a lowly 72 on Ukip’s target list. The second was that he had been leader of party whose image had been tarnished by infighting both figurative and literal for all of 12 weeks – the real work of his project had yet to begin. 

The chances of that project ever succeeding were modest at the very best. After yesterday’s defeat, it looks even more unlikely. Nuttall had originally stated his intention to run in the likely by-election in Leigh, Greater Manchester, when Andy Burnham wins the Greater Manchester metro mayoralty as is expected in May (Wigan, the borough of which Leigh is part, voted 64 per cent for Brexit).

If he goes ahead and stands – which he may well do – he will have to overturn a Labour majority of over 14,000. That, even before the unedifying row over the veracity of his Hillsborough recollections, was always going to be a big challenge. If he goes for it and loses, his leadership – predicated as it is on his supposed ability to win votes in the north - will be dead in the water. 

Nuttall is not entirely to blame, but he is a big part of Ukip’s problem. I visited Stoke the day before The Guardian published its initial report on Nuttall’s Hillsborough claims, and even then Nuttall’s campaign manager admitted that he was unlikely to convince the “hard core” of Conservative voters to back him. 

There are manifold reasons for this, but chief among them is that Nuttall, despite his newfound love of tweed, is no Nigel Farage. Not only does he lack his name recognition and box office appeal, but the sad truth is that the Tory voters Ukip need to attract are much less likely to vote for a party led by a Scouser whose platform consists of reassuring working-class voters their NHS and benefits are safe.
 
It is Farage and his allies – most notably the party’s main donor Arron Banks – who hold the most power over Nuttall’s future. Banks, who Nuttall publicly disowned as a non-member after he said he was “sick to death” of people “milking” the Hillsborough disaster, said on the eve of the Stoke poll that Ukip had to “remain radical” if it wanted to keep receiving his money. Farage himself has said the party’s campaign ought to have been “clearer” on immigration. 

Senior party figures are already briefing against Nuttall and his team in the Telegraph, whose proprietors are chummy with the beer-swilling Farage-Banks axis. They deride him for his efforts to turn Ukip into “NiceKip” or “Nukip” in order to appeal to more women voters, and for the heavy-handedness of his pitch to Labour voters (“There were times when I wondered whether I’ve got a purple rosette or a red one on”, one told the paper). 

It is Nuttall’s policy advisers - the anti-Farage awkward squad of Suzanne Evans, MEP Patrick O’Flynn (who famously branded Farage "snarling, thin-skinned and aggressive") and former leadership candidate Lisa Duffy – come in for the harshest criticism. Herein lies the leader's almost impossible task. Despite having pitched to members as a unity candidate, the two sides’ visions for Ukip are irreconcilable – one urges him to emulate Trump (who Nuttall says he would not have voted for), and the other urges a more moderate tack. 

Endorsing his leader on Question Time last night, Ukip’s sole MP Douglas Carswell blamed the legacy of the party’s Tea Party-inspired 2015 general election campaign, which saw Farage complain about foreigners with HIV using the NHS in ITV’s leaders debate, for the party’s poor performance in Stoke. Others, such as MEP Bill Etheridge, say precisely the opposite – that Nuttall must be more like Farage. 

Neither side has yet called for Nuttall’s head. He insists he is “not going anywhere”. With his febrile party no stranger to abortive coup and counter-coup, he is unlikely to be the one who has the final say.