Ideology beats the facts as Gove pushes performance-related pay

The government’s plans to scrap the national salary scheme for teachers is nothing more than a thinly-veiled cost-cutting scheme.

In last week’s autumn statement (remember that? Its thunder was rather stolen by the Duchess of Cambridge's womb), George Osborne announced plans to scrap the national salary scheme for teachers, a pay-scale that enshrines teachers rewarded for loyalty and long-service. In its place, he proposes a system that gives individual head teachers power to set pay based on performance, representing a move towards deregulation of pay in the school system.

The Chancellor and the Education Secretary Michael Gove are attempting to argue that the introduction of a performance-based pay scale will "drive up teacher quality." Gove commented after the statement that "these recommendations will make teaching a more attractive career and a more rewarding job”, going as far as to say that the new measures will "empower" schools to “recruit the best teachers.”

But one need only defer to one’s own school days to find ample evidence that the best teachers are not motivated by money. Take my A-Level English teacher as an example. He had taught for over 25 years, and was rewarded for his loyalty by gradually moving up the ranks to become head of English. His teaching stood out because he loved his subject, and he loved to educate. Such was this sexagenarian’s enthusiasm, that while teaching The Tempest to my class, he once jumped up on to a table-top to deliver a monologue. Perhaps if performance-related pay had been in effect at the time, he would have given that extra oomph to Caliban’s "noises and sweet airs" speech in order to move up that next pay bracket. But I don’t think so.

The notion that good teachers aren’t motivated by money has also been more comprehensively proved. A recent international survey by the OECD found that in countries where the teaching salary is relatively high, like the UK where the average starting salary for a teacher £23,010, performance-related pay was shown to lead to a decline in teaching standards.

Despite being educated at St Paul's, Osborne can’t claim to be so ignorant about the state school system that he actually thinks this proposal will make teaching better. His motivations are summed up neatly by NUT leader Christine Blower:

Teachers are already suffering from pay freezes, job losses and increases in pension contributions – they now face pay cuts due to a policy based on ideology not evidence.

The NASUWT and ATL teachers’ unions are also critical of the proposals, and the NUT has voted to take "all appropriate action" to challenge threats to their national pay schemes.

Teachers are trying, and will continue to try, to educate the government on the folly of these measures.  Unfortunately, given their track record, Cameron, Osborne, Gove and the rest of their gang are likely to sit sullenly at the back of the class talking amongst themselves, and refusing to listen to the teacher.

This article was updated on 13 December 2012. It previously stated that George Osborne was educated at Eton, not St Paul's - this error has now been corrected.

Chancellor George Osborne Hosts Annual Christmas Party For Charity. Photograph: Getty Images
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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times