A new comprehensive vision for education

The three parties are united behind a failed education consensus. We need a new system that promotes cooperation, not competition.

Coalitions don’t just have to be about government – they can be about ideas too. What is perplexing about British politics is that you find groups in each of the main parties saying pretty much the same thing. Nowhere is this more true than education. A coalition, predating the general election of 2010, dominates British education. No one voted for it or sanctioned it, and I suspect few want it. It is a coalition born of the 1980s and today it is represented by Michael Gove, Andrew Adonis and David Laws. It needs to be understood and trumped by a more radical, progressive and hopeful education coalition.

The puzzle of this cross-party coalition of ideology finds clarity in its evidential failure. The power of the coalition is that it served the dominant political economy of neo-liberalism. People would be shaped on a learn-to-earn consumer treadmill, thus enabling them to compete and shop in a global economy. Aspiration would be narrowly defined and individually attained. If you could climb the ladder and if you wanted to climb it badly enough, then the world was yours. Bad luck was just another way of saying you weren’t trying hard enough. But this meritocratic promise is fast breaking down. Today, even if you learn hard, work harder and play by the rules there is no guarantee of success. Instead, a generation is being laid to waste because, as we now all know, "there is a flaw in the model". The desire industry speeds up the turning of wants into needs – but this flawed economy is destroying the ability to pay. Given this rupture between the neo-liberal promise and the lived reality of millions of children and their parents – what now is the purpose of education? Indeed, why go to school?

The answer starts with Einstein who warned us "we cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them". Next comes the recognition that we cannot view education in isolation to the economic, social and political culture in which the system fits. As such, education plays an almost unique role, not just a big part of the means by which society reproduces itself, but a platform from which society can actually transform itself. Thus, we have to understand education as a paradoxical entity, as both in-and-against the still dominant discourse of free market ideology. But given the objective failure of neo-liberalism and, therefore, of the educational consensus that flowed to it and from it, the onus must now be to come up with alternative – a new consensus for education in a good society.  

That of course will not be easy, although it is reassuring to remember that the majority always started out as a minority and that only from small acorns do great oaks grow. And let’s build on that thought by briefly stating what we don’t think education should be about and, therefore, how it must not be run. If it’s not about the production of addicted consumers, then the basis of educational production should not be consumerised or marketised. Likewise, if we think that everyone who has a stake in the education system should also have a voice in the creation of the education system then we can kick largely into touch the old bureaucratic model of the mid decades of the last century. As Simon Jenkins has written recently, "Britain’s economy is in a mess not for a lack of maths but for a lack of ethics and common sense. Being top of the world in science did not save the Soviet Union from collapse … the academic terrorism of tests and league tables has made Gradgrinds rote-learning seem almost liberal".  While heads, teachers and inspectors tick the boxes of the standards regime there is a growing hole in the heart of our education system – a hole in which empathy, compassion, responsibility, creativity and the enduring and genuine identity formation of the young people of our country is squeezed out.

Once we have dispensed with the market and the target, or to put it another way, the Soviet Union and G4S, as the models for educational production where does that leave us? Well that depends on what we think education is for. The work and thinking of the Compass Education Group has resulted in a rather simple, and dare I say, rather beautiful rationale for the billions we pump into education, and it is this: our education system is there to help us learn to live and collaborate together. It is the prime collective means by which we are socialised. And as such, its focus is relational, emotional and human. And if, as they should be, means and ends are to be united, then the way our education system functions should be relational, emotional and human. This "learning to live together" is the most precious gift we can bestow on young people. The art of life is to know how to live it with others. If, at the most basic, our core belief is that we should treat others as we would have them treat us, then our schooling system must, above all, teach us exactly that.  

Of course, we have to burden this fragile but wonderful structure with more capability and qualifications needs but if the essence is to produce citizens, rather than consumers, or their flip side, worker ants, then what is the model of a new educational consensus?  We cannot go on as we are, neither can we go back to some 1960s comprehensive nirvana. Instead, we are going to have to explore a new comprehensive vision – it will be challenging and difficult.

The focus for this new comprehensive vision will not be the solitary school, but the local area. The challenge of the future is how schools and local institutions collaborate to ensure everyone learns about their life in common and that through a cooperative local system all maximise their potential and their capabilities. The building block will be the formation of local stakeholders Educational Boards that could be indirectly or directly elected. They must include parents in the recognition that we cannot outsource the socialization of our children to either the market or the bureaucracy.  If we do then our children will suffer. Parents, alongside professionals, local politicians, the community, business and other interests, have to play a role in shaping and determining local collaboration, not least the localisation of inspection and standards. And instead of league tables that can be gamed, local democratic accountability would provide a much more effective spur for continuous improvement and innovation.

Such a democratic educationalism cannot just be argued for on intrinsic reasons alone but the instrumental case too - we get better outcomes through democratic participation and engagement than we do from the machine or the market. Trusting people is better than either imposing decisions on them or forcing them to compete. Their buy-in and the co-production of services between users and workers locks in organic initiative and enterprise. These ideas are going with the flow of economic development, even in a period of neo-liberalism – more networked, more localised and more innovation based.  

Seen in the global context of a growing relevance of relational and democratic ideas, all of a sudden it becomes our school and our area and our commitment to both improves outputs in ways competition and instruction never can.  Democracy is not easy or quick, but is the only way to come up with solutions that are embedded and enduring. And such a move would break the strange-hold of Whitehall – a blow not just to the control freaks, but also the neo-liberals. The free market always requires a strong state to usher in privatisation.

Of course, central government will have a role, not least in funding. And professionalism must be recognised, encouraged, respected and rewarded. As Melissa Benn wrote recently, "for Adonis and Gove all that stands in the way of a child on free schools meals and King's College Cambridge is a militant, clock watching member of the NUT". A good education cannot be built with teachers as the enemy but, rather, along with parents and other stakeholders, as one of the prime forces to improve performance.

This new comprehensive vision will have to be supported by more specific educational strategies – for example, it should be underpinned by a common curriculum and a unified qualifications framework. This means not a divide and conquer Bacc of academic and technical varieties, but a unified Bacc that dusts down the Tomlinson report, which recommended the end of the academic divide and radically updates it. Finally, further and higher education need to be merged around a new educational entitlement that ends any notion of up-front fees and charges. Such a comprehensive and unified structure can be the only basis of a truly one nation politics. Indeed, I think we say that one nation starts in the classroom.

Conversely, government should do nothing to support division and competition within the education system, anything that tears people apart,  rather that drives them together. Private schools should no longer receive tax breaks. Andrew Adonis’s aspiration for private schools to back academies and free schools to level up opportunities and standards is at best a naïve category error which fails to recognise the reason why parents pay thousands in fees each year – to buy an advantage over the state system. As charitable status must go, so the 11-plus must be phased out.

A new comprehensive vision and new education coalition will not emerge solely from Labour because it paved the way for much of the Gove agenda. What we are witnessing is its logical conclusion. Instead, the braver elements of the Labour Party must make common cause with social liberals, parents, localists, businesses, vocationalists, the teaching unions and other professional groups to develop, flesh out and popularise this new vision. We can learn from the best practice in Canada and Finland, but we must build a distinctly English model of this new vision. Time is of the essence.

The goal of our education system cannot be to produce more hedge fund managers that carve up the country in their interest, divide the few from the many and then wreck everything we hold dear. The failure of that economic system means the end of the education system that flowed from it. It is time for something new and something better.  

The Compass Education Group's conference to discuss and debate "a new comprehensive vision" is on 8 December at the TUC in London. Speakers include Jon Cruddas MP, who is chairing Labour’s Policy Review and Mary Bousted from the ATL

Neal Lawson's column appears weekly on The Staggers

Pupils wait for school buses in the playground. Photograph: Getty Images.

Neal Lawson is chair of the pressure group Compass, which brings together progressives from all parties and none. His views on internal Labour matters are personal ones. 

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Brexit confusion is scuppering my show – what next?

My week, from spinning records with Baconface, Brexit block and visiting comedy graves.

I am a stand-up comedian, and I am in the process of previewing a new live show, which I hope to tour until early 2018. It was supposed to be about how the digital, free-market society is reshaping the idea of the individual, but we are in the pre-Brexit events whirlpool, and there has never been a worse time to try to assemble a show that will still mean anything in 18 months’ time.



A joke written six weeks ago about dep­orting eastern Europeans, intended to be an exaggeration for comic effect, suddenly just reads like an Amber Rudd speech – or, as James O’Brien pointed out on LBC, an extract from Mein Kampf.

A rude riff on Sarah Vine and 2 Girls 1 Cup runs aground because there are fewer people now who remember Vine than recall the briefly notorious Brazilian video clip. I realise that something that gets a cheer on a Tuesday in Harrogate, or Glasgow, or Oxford, could get me lynched the next night in Lincoln. Perhaps I’ll go into the fruit-picking business. I hear there’s about to be some vacancies.



I sit and stare at blocks of text, wondering how to knit them into a homogeneous whole. But it’s Sunday afternoon, a time for supervising homework and finding sports kit. My 11-year-old daughter has a school project on the Victorians and she has decided to do it on dead 19th-century comedians, as we had recently been on a Music Hall Guild tour of their graves at the local cemetery. I wonder if, secretly, she wished I would join them.

I have found living with the background noise of this project depressing. The headstones that she photographed show that most of the performers – even the well-known Champagne Charlie – barely made it past 40, while the owners of the halls outlived them. Herbert Campbell’s obelisk is vast and has the word “comedian” written on it in gold leaf, but it’s in the bushes and he is no longer remembered. Neither are many of the acts I loved in the 1980s – Johnny Immaterial, Paul Ramone, the Iceman.



I would have liked to do some more work on the live show but, one Monday a month, I go to the studios of the largely volunteer-run arts radio station Resonance FM in Borough, south London. Each Wednesday night at 11pm, the masked Canadian stand-up comedian Baconface presents selections from his late brother’s collection of 1950s, 1960s and 1970s jazz, psychedelia, folk, blues and experimental music. I go in to help him pre-record the programmes.

Baconface is a fascinating character, whom I first met at the Cantaloupes Comedy Club in Kamloops in British Columbia in 1994. He sees the radio show as an attempt to atone for his part in his brother’s death, which was the result of a prank gone wrong involving nudity and bacon, though he is often unable to conceal his contempt for the music that he is compelled to play.

The show is recorded in a small, hot room and Baconface doesn’t change the bacon that his mask is made of very often, so the experience can be quite claustrophobic. Whenever we lose tapes or the old vinyl is too warped to play, he just sits back and utters his resigned, philosophical catchphrase, “It’s all bacon!” – which I now find myself using, as I watch the news, with ­depressing regularity.



After the kids go to sleep, I sit up alone and finally watch The Lady in the Van. Last year, I walked along the street in Camden where it was being filmed, and Alan Bennett talked to me, which was amazing.

About a month later, on the same street, we saw Jonathan Miller skirting some dog’s mess and he told me and the kids how annoyed it made him. I tried to explain to them afterwards who Jonathan Miller was, but to the five-year-old the satire pioneer will always be the Shouting Dog’s Mess Man.



I have the second of the final three preview shows at the intimate Leicester Square Theatre in London before the new show, Content Provider, does a week in big rooms around the country. Today, I was supposed to do a BBC Radio 3 show about improvised music but both of the kids were off school with a bug and I had to stay home mopping up. In between the vomiting, in the psychic shadow of the improvisers, I had something of a breakthrough. The guitarist Derek Bailey, for example, would embrace his problems and make them part of the performance.



I drank half a bottle of wine before going on stage, to give me the guts to take some risks. It’s not a long-term strategy for creative problem-solving, and that way lies wandering around Southend with a pet chicken. But by binning the words that I’d written and trying to repoint them, in the moment, to be about how the Brexit confusion is blocking my route to the show I wanted to write, I can suddenly see a way forward. The designer is in, with samples of a nice coat that she is making for me, intended to replicate the clothing of the central figure in Caspar David Friedrich’s 1818 German masterpiece Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog.



Richard Branson is on the internet and, just as I’d problem-solved my way around writing about it, he’s suggesting that Brexit might not happen. I drop the kids off and sit in a café reading Alan Moore’s new novel, Jerusalem. I am interviewing him about it for the Guardian in two weeks’ time. It’s 1,174 pages long, but what with the show falling apart I have read only 293 pages. Next week is half-term. I’ll nail it. It’s great, by the way, and seems to be about the small lives of undocumented individuals, buffeted by the random events of their times.

Stewart Lee’s show “Content Provider” will be on in London from 8 November. For more details, visit: stewartlee.co.uk

This article first appeared in the 27 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, American Rage