Gove has abandoned Labour's focus on school standards

By obsessing over structures, the Education Secretary has lost the drive for school improvement that existed under Labour’s academies programme.

Academy schools have been much in the news this week. The government has today announced additional numbers of new academies. But more significant have been two pretty damning reports on the ability of ministers to manage the academies programme. The Financial Times reported yesterday that £174m has been overspent in just one year by Michael Gove’s education department on the programme – a scale of waste equivalent to four times the West Coast Mainline fiasco and a shocking example of government incompetence.

And the final report of the Academies Commission, a joint initiative from the Royal Society of Arts and Pearson, has found that the government has lost the focus and drive for school improvement that existed under Labour’s academies programme.

While Labour’s programme focused on driving up underperfomance in some of the most challenging circumstances, since 2010 the programme  has mainly focused on changing the structure of already outstanding schools. Three quarters of academies are now what are known as "converter academies".

Michael Gove enjoys giving the media regular updates on the numbers of schools becoming academies but playing a simple numbers game is not the way to secure educational excellence. It’s no wonder that the head of the Academies Commission, Christine Gilbert, warned  "there's a real danger in equating an increase in the number of academies with an increase in the quality of our schools. Academisation alone is not going to deliver the improvements we need." In another part of the report, the experts also warn that the process for selecting academies sponsors is "no longer rigorous". This is especially worrying given how critical the input of sponsors is to school improvement.

Ministers have failed to ensure schools that have converted to become academies since 2010 work with other schools to raise standards across the system. This is critical for One Nation Education  - we need collaboration to tackle underperforming schools to ensure that no school is left behind.

I talked in a recent speech about how we must tackle an arc of underachievement in some schools. For me, the key is to ensure that strong schools work with weaker schools, so no school is left behind. That was the key lesson from the London Challenge I was involved with setting up in 2003, which has seen schools in the capital go from being some of the worst in England to some of the best.

I was pleased to see that the commission also supports Labour's call for a Royal College of Teachers to further strengthen the training and professional development of teachers. Improving practice in the classroom is critical to the life chances of the next generation, but the government seems uninterested.

While changing a school’s structure can help to galvanise change, the most important factor in a school’s success is the quality of teaching and leadership. There are serious problems with Michael Gove’s management of this programme. Under Labour, academies were about raising standards and this government is putting that legacy at risk. Reports like that of the Academies Commission illustrate the importance of developing schools policies based on evidence and not dogma.

Education Secretary Michael Gove speaks at last year's Conservative conference in Birmingham. Photograph: Getty Images.

Stephen Twigg is shadow minister for constitutional reform and MP for Liverpool West Derby

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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:

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