A-level results day will be a much less joyous affair if Gove gets his way

The Education Secretary's plan to abolish AS-levels will stifle the ambitions of students from the poorest backgrounds.

All over the country today, nerve-filled teenagers have been receiving their A-level exam results, pressing a button or opening an envelope to reveal a pathway to their future. A few letters on a piece of paper will either have caused abundant joy, nonchalant satisfaction, or gut-wrenching despair, in most cases, one hopes, the first two. Young people do not need their dreams dampened at the age of 17 or 18. As Owen Jones reminded us this morning, our austerity society has plenty of that in store for them. Instead, we need them to believe they can fulfil greatness.

How else will we confront the challenge of economic stagnation? If we dampen the hopes of young people so early then we dampen their enthusiasm to innovate, to attack the deficiencies of the status-quo and to ultimately improve our society. We need bright, pioneering individuals who are able to reform an economy with grave structural problems.

And yet this could be one of the last year groups where joy will be the overriding emotion across the nation. Indeed, I am sure that Michael Gove will not privately toast all those who have seen their ambitions fulfilled but will lift his glass with pride at the fact that the number of A* and A grades fell for the second year in a row.

From 2015, the Education Secretary intends to implement his master plan, a plan which will see these top grades drop even further. A-levels and AS-levels will be separated, meaning that A-level exams will be sat at the end of two years, with limited resits, establishing an unforgiving system more akin to Gove’s childhood experiences. As was aptly pointed out by shadow education secretary Stephen Twigg earlier this week, without the boost of AS-levels, students from the poorest backgrounds could be restricted from applying to elite universities. Furthermore, for a generation who have grown up seeing brothers, sisters and friends attain the highest grades, Gove’s barriers will simply act as obstructions to ambition. When pupils realise that they need to put in far more work than their elder peers to achieve high grades, their desire to put in the hard yards risks being constrained. Ultimately, this acts in the interests of more privileged pupils, who often have greater support systems both at school and at home to assist their efforts.

It is undeniable that our education system must reward pupils fairly, striking a balance between allowing pupils to achieve the highest grades and not flooding the system with AAA students. But the overriding story of Gove’s reforms will not be academic rigour and creating an aspiration nation. It will be of pupils stifled by an unrewarding education system, one which will discourage their ambition and dampen their dreams.

So, A-level leavers, as you sit down tonight, before partying the night away with the help of Jagermeister or some other putrid, liver-destroying drink, feel a tinge of sympathy for future generations and how they will not be quite as lucky as you.

Sam Bright is editor of the political website Backbench

Education Secretary Michael Gove leaves 10 Downing Street on November 21, 2012. Photograph: Getty Images.

Sam Bright is editor of the political website Backbench

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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