Gove's exam reforms are a "throwback" to the 1950s, says former Tory education secretary

Kenneth Baker launches damning attack on the Education Secretary in an interview with the New Statesman.

What does Kenneth Baker, the most transformative education secretary in recent history, make of Michael Gove's revolution? I interviewed the Conservative peer at the Millbank offices of Edge, the education foundation he chairs, earlier this week and he was strikingly critical of the coalition's approach. The full piece will appear in the next issue of the NS but for Staggers readers here are some highlights.

Gove's English Baccalaureate: "a throwback" to the 1950s

Baker described Gove's English Baccalaureate (EBacc), which will replace GCSEs from 2015, as "a throwback", comparing it to the School Certificate he sat as a 16-year-old in 1951. He told me: "The EBacc is very similar to the exam I sat in 1951 when I was 16, the School Certificate. It’s exactly the same, exactly!

"I was the last year that took it, because it simply wasn’t broad enough for most children. Only seven per cent of young people went on to post-16 education, I was part of a privileged elite. And the EBacc is a throwback to that."

"I like Michael, he's a friend, but I’m in favour of doing something different, obviously," he said.

With the school leaving age rising to 17 this year and 18 from 2015, Baker questioned the need for an exam at 16. "If you go up to 18, why would have you an exam? What is the purpose? There was a purpose when I was educated because only 10 per cent went on. But now 100 per cent will go on in one way or another, so why have an exam at 16?"

Shadow education secretary Stephen Twigg said of Baker's comments: "When even Conservatives say that Michael Gove's exams are a throwback to the 1950s, you know he's got the wrong approach. We need an education system that prepares young people for the future, not a narrow and out of date exam system that risks undermining our economic strength in innovation and creativity."

TechBacc: why won't the government support it?

In his new book, 14-18: A New Vision for Secondary Education, Baker argues that the age of transfer should be raised from 11 to 14 ("11 is too soon to change and 16 too late," he said) and that pupils should be able to choose between four types of schools: traditional academic, technical (Baker has overseen the opening of five University Technical Colleges, with 12 to follow this year and 15 the next), career-based and creative or sports.

It is an approach markedly at odds with that of Gove, who often appears entirely preoccupied with the first of these four. While Labour has adopted Baker's proposal of a Technical Baccalaureate (TechBacc), the government remains resistant.

"The government approves of a TechBacc at 18 but not at 16, which is double dutch really, because if you have a TechBacc at 18 you’ve got to have some technical subjects that your students are required to take at 16."

On Gove: he thinks "If I did it, others should do it"

Baker argued that the 317 technical schools that existed in 1946, which he is seeking to recreate in the form of University Technical Colleges (UTCs), were "closed by snobbery."

"Everyone wanted their children to go to the school on the hill, the grammar school, not the one down in the town with the shabby premises."

Is Gove guilty of a similar bias? "He had a tough education, he came through it, and did very well. And there’s always a feeling, ‘If I did it, others should do it.’"

Scrapping GCSEs: "I don't know how they're going to do it"

It was Baker who introduced GCSEs in 1986 and he said he was doubtful that Gove would meet his target of replacing the exams with the EBacc in 2015, with the first papers sat in 2017.

"It takes a long time to introduce a new exam. It took Keith Joseph three years to plan GCSEs and me nearly two years to implement them. It’s quite demanding, to say the least. I don't know how they're going to do it."

He added: "2017 is quite ambitious and I think there’s a good chance that deadline will be missed."

Baker said it was "unlikely" the EBacc would survive a change of government and noted that "there will still be GCSEs around, I don’t think they’re going to abolish GCSEs as such."

Free schools: "the jury's out" and profit-making is not the answer

The former Tory education secretary also sounded a note of scepticism about Gove's "free schools", remarking that "the jury's out" until their pupils have sat exams.

"I think that the jury’s out on free schools, quite frankly, it must be because none of them have taken any exams yet. If you start a primary school, there’s not an exam until the age of six or seven. If you start a secondary school, there’ll be no results for five years, so that to extent the jury’s out on them, we’ll have to see how they go."

Of Gove's predilection for grassroots involvement, he sardonically remarked, "Their success depends very much on the commitment of the local community. And the parents. Well, the private sector, on the whole, has got the attitude to parents correct: parents are only allowed to approach the school with a cheque book in their hands."

He dismissed those on the right who argue that the success of the schools depends on them being run for profit.

"I don’t think allowing them to be run for profit would necessarily change very much, quite frankly. I really don’t think it would."

Tuition fees: "the jump to £9,000 was just too much"

As the man who introduced student loans in 1990, sounding the death knell for fully state funded university education, one might expect Baker to favour the decision to raise the cap on tuition fees to £9,000-a-year, but he told me that it was "all too sudden".

"There was a case for an increase, but by doing it so quickly they’ve guaranteed that applications will fall for years to come.

"A lot of prospective students will ask, if I’m going to have a debt of £30,000 at the end of a three-year course, is it worth it? I strongly believe that students should make a contribution their education but it has to start in a very modest way, to go slowly, the jump to £9,000 was just too much, quite frankly."

The coalition promised that universities would only charge £9,000 in "exceptional circumstances" but three-quarters of universities are planning to charge £9,000 for some courses this year, with a third charging the maximum fee for all subjects.

Gove has "no interest in further education or universities"

Baker also criticised the decision not to return control of university policy to the Department of Education from the Department for Business. "Michael [Gove]'s got no interest in further education or universities," he said.

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

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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What happens when a president refuses to step down?

An approaching constitutional crisis has triggered deep political unrest in the Congo.

Franck Diongo reached his party’s headquarters shortly after 10am and stepped out of a Range Rover. Staff and hangers-on rose from plastic chairs to greet the president of the Mouvement Lumumbiste Progressiste (MLP), named after the first elected leader of the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Diongo, a compact and powerfully built man, was so tightly wound that his teeth ground as he talked. When agitated, he slammed his palms on the table and his speech became shrill. “We live under a dictatorial regime, so it used the security forces to kill us with live rounds to prevent our demonstration,” he said.

The MLP is part of a coalition of opposition parties known as the Rassemblement. Its aim is to ensure that the Congolese president, Joseph Kabila, who has been president since 2001, leaves office on 19 December, at the end of his second and supposedly final term.

Yet the elections that were meant to take place late last month have not been organised. The government has blamed logistical and financial difficulties, but Kabila’s opponents claim that the president has hamstrung the electoral commission in the hope that he can use his extended mandate to change the rules. “Mr Kabila doesn’t want to quit power,” said Diongo, expressing a widespread belief here.

On 19 September, the Rassemblement planned a march in Kinshasa, the capital, to protest the failure to deliver elections and to remind the president that his departure from office was imminent. But the demonstration never took place. At sunrise, clashes broke out between police and protesters in opposition strongholds. The military was deployed. By the time peace was restored 36 hours later, dozens had died. Kabila’s interior minister, claiming that the government had faced down an insurrection, acknowledged the deaths of 32 people but said that they were killed by criminals during looting.

Subsequent inquiries by the United Nations and Human Rights Watch (HRW) told a different story. They recorded more fatalities – at least 53 and 56, respectively – and said that the state had been responsible for most of the deaths. They claimed that the Congolese authorities had obstructed the investigators, and the true number of casualties was likely higher. According to HRW, security forces had seized and removed bodies “in an apparent effort to hide the evidence”.

The UN found that the lethal response was directed from a “central command centre. . . jointly managed” by officials from the police, army, presidential bodyguard and intelligence agency that “authorised the use of force, including firearms”.

The reports validated claims made by the Rassemblement that it was soldiers who had set fire to several opposition parties’ headquarters on 20 September. Six men were killed when the compound of the UDPS party was attacked.

On 1 November, their funerals took place where they fell. White coffins, each draped in a UDPS flag, were shielded from the midday sun by a gazebo, while mourners found shade inside the charred building. Pierrot Tshibangu lost his younger sibling, Evariste, in the attack. “When we arrived, we found my brother’s body covered in stab marks and bullet wounds,” he recalled.

Once the government had suppressed the demonstration, the attorney general compiled a list of influential figures in the Rassemblement – including Diongo – and forbade them from leaving the capital. Kinshasa’s governor then outlawed all political protest.

It was easy to understand why Diongo felt embattled, even paranoid. Midway through our conversation, his staff apprehended a man loitering in the courtyard. Several minutes of mayhem ensued before he was restrained and confined under suspicion of spying for the government.

Kabila is seldom seen in public and almost never addresses the nation. His long-term intentions are unclear, but the president’s chief diplomatic adviser maintains that his boss has no designs on altering the constitution or securing a third term. He insists that Kabila will happily step down once the country is ready for the polls.

Most refuse to believe such assurances. On 18 October, Kabila’s ruling alliance struck a deal with a different, smaller opposition faction. It allows Kabila to stay in office until the next election, which has been postponed until April 2018. A rickety government of national unity is being put in place but discord is already rife.

Jean-Lucien Bussa of the CDER party helped to negotiate the deal and is now a front-runner for a ministerial portfolio. At a corner table in the national assembly’s restaurant, he told me that the Rassemblement was guilty of “a lack of realism”, and that its fears were misplaced because Kabila won’t be able to prolong his presidency any further.

“On 29 April 2018, the Congolese will go to the ballot box to vote for their next president,” he said. “There is no other alternative for democrats than to find a negotiated solution, and this accord has given us one.”

Diongo was scathing of the pact (he called it “a farce intended to deceive”) and he excommunicated its adherents from his faction. “They are Mr Kabila’s collaborators, who came to divide the opposition,” he told me. “What kind of oppositionist can give Mr Kabila the power to violate the constitution beyond 19 December?”

Diongo is convinced that the president has no intention of walking away from power in April 2018. “Kabila will never organise elections if he cannot change the constitution,” he warned.

Diongo’s anger peaked at the suggestion that it will be an uphill struggle to dislodge a head of state who has control of the security forces. “What you need to consider,” he said, “is that no army can defy a people determined to take control of their destiny . . . The Congolese people will have the last word!”

A recent poll suggested that the president would win less than 8 per cent of the vote if an election were held this year. One can only assume that Kabila is hoping that the population will have no say at all.

This article first appeared in the 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage