Tristram Hunt's focus on social mobility shows Labour's direction on education. Photo: Getty
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Is the Labour party finally beginning to engage on education?

After years of hardly trying to counter the coalition’s regressive education reforms, Labour finally seems to have begun to make a move.

At the start of this week Tristram Hunt gave a speech saying that the next Labour government would stop the reforms to A-levels introduced under Michael Gove and that the Conservatives were "turning the clock back on social mobility" with their policies. This intervention marks the first time that Labour has begun to counter the government’s reforms on a more substantive and ideological level since the start of the coalition.

The government’s reforms which scrapped AS-levels were often unpopular because, according University admissions staff, they unfairly affected students at comprehensive schools. Comprehensive students made the fastest progress between GCSE and AS-level, therefore improving their prospects when applying to University. In essence, the reforms had an adverse effect upon access to higher education by penalising comprehensive students.

It’s been a long period of quiet from Labour on education, both from Stephen Twigg and Tristram Hunt, but now that Michael Gove has been replaced with Nicky Morgan, it seems that tide is beginning to turn. Previously, Hunt has attacked the government on teaching standards and qualifications, something which he reiterated on Monday. Hunt’s attack on the impact of reforms upon social mobility however represents something more substantial; he is pinning his colours to the mast and saying that social mobility will the core of One Nation Labour’s educational ideology.

Of all the different policy fields covered by the One Nation banner, education has been the slowest to evolve and to form a coherent narrative. Where is the equivalent of Andy Burnham’s "whole-person care"? Maybe the idea of "whole-person education" or even "whole-life education" could be the election slogan for a set of education policies that promote the joint ideas of social mobility and access to education. Whatever they decide on, it is clear that education policy has not been a priority for the party.

Instead of creating a comprehensive alternative to the coalition’s dogma of educational reform, Labour has previously focused mostly on technical points and in so doing created a consensus in Westminster around education by virtue of barely even engaging with the debate. By now taking on the reforms on an ideological level, Labour is starting to flesh out its philosophical backbone on education.

This week’s speech of course only represented the beginnings of something happening with Labour’s education policy; it was not by any means a major policy overhaul. There is still lots of work to be done and questions to be answered; what are they going to do with vocational education? And how will they make it stick? How does education fit into the overall party message? What we saw this week was indication of what will underpin Labour’s education policy for next year.

In an interview today for Buzzfeed, Tristram Hunt specifically said that, "the party has always viewed education as a vehicle for social mobility". The Labour party was the party that introduced the Open University, an institution specifically designed to widen access to education, to give the opportunity of social mobility to more people. It was also the party that introduced comprehensive education, which aimed to helped those left behind by the educational elitism. If Tristram Hunt is serious in his belief of social mobility being created through education, he will need to put his money where his mouth is and live up to the legacy of the party with something bigger and bolder than keeping AS-levels. Hopefully this week’s speech has signalled the start of this change in education policy and is not just a one-off.

Dan Holden is deputy editor of Shifting Grounds

Reuters/New Statesman composite.
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When it comes to social media, we all have a responsibility to avoid sharing upsetting images

If Twitter is the new journalism, we are all editors – and responsible for treating our fellow humans with dignity.

“I wish I hadn’t seen that”, my colleague says from across the desk. It’s been an hour since the first reports came in of a shooting outside Parliament, and the news agency Reuters has started posting photographs of injured people, knocked down by the terrorist as he drove across Westminster Bridge.

In one, a brunette woman leans over a victim whose blood is beginning to stain the wet pavement. Lying on her back, she is framed by scattered postcards sold for tourists which have been knocked to the floor. She is clutching the arm of the woman helping her, but her eyes are staring dead into the photographer’s lens.

Another photograph – the one that my colleague is referring to – disturbs me even more: a man who has fallen (or been pushed?) off the bridge onto a stairwell. He is face down in a pool of blood, his left leg at an unnatural angle. It is impossible to tell if he is alive or not.

Briefly, before I scroll past, I wonder if someone, somewhere is seeing the same picture and experiencing a shock of recognition as they recognise their friend’s clothes.

And then there is one picture which I now cannot find on Twitter, but which, lying in bed last night, I could not stop thinking of: a woman’s legs extended from under the wheel of a bus, her skirt hiked up to show her underwear, her shoes missing.

We are a desk of journalists covering an attack on the Houses of Parliament, so I keep scrolling. It is only later, in an article by the Telegraph, that I learn a junior doctor has declared the woman dead.

Of course, the shock of seeing images like these is nothing compared to what war reporters, doctors or police go through on a regular basis. But a 2015 study at the University of Toronto found that extended exposure to violent or disturbing material can have a severe effect on journalists’ mental health.

The impact can be particularly confusing when one does not anticipate seeing violence.On social media, we increasingly encounter images this way: without warning and without a chance to steel ourselves. This is particularly a problem when it comes to members of the public, whose jobs don’t require them to look at shocking material but who can nevertheless be exposed to it just by virtue of using a social media network.

It is for this reason that, shortly after Reuters published their photographs of the Westminster victims, prominent journalists began posting asking their colleagues not to retweet them. Some protested the fact that Reuters had published them at all.

In today’s media landscape, news moves fast and social media faster. Where a picture editor would have previously had until their print deadline to decide which images to run, now photographers are able to send their work back to the office almost instantaneously, and editors must make a snap decision about what to release.

Deciding what images to use can be a difficult call – especially under pressure. On the one hand, there is the urge to not turn away, to bear witness to the full magnitude of what has happened, even if it is shocking and upsetting. On the other, there is the need to treat fellow human beings with dignity, and particularly to avoid, where possible, showing images of victims whose families have not yet been informed.

Social media makes this process even more difficult. Once released online, photographs of the Westminster attack were quickly saved and re-posted by private individuals, stripped of context or warning. One can choose not to follow the Reuters Pictures account, but one cannot necessarily avoid seeing an image once it is being retweeted, reposted and recycled by private accounts.

As the line between traditional news and social media blurs and we increasingly become participants in the news, as well as consumers of it, our sense of responsibility also shifts. On Twitter, we are our own editors, each charged with making sure we extend dignity to our fellow humans, even – especially – when the news is dramatic and fast-moving.

I was glad, this morning, to encounter fewer and fewer photographs – to not see the girl lying under the bus again. But at 3am last night, I thought about her, and about her family; about them knowing that journalists on desks across Britain had seen up their loved one’s skirt during the last moments of her life. It was, without putting too fine a point on it, no way to encounter a fellow human being.

Over the next few days, we will find out more about who the victims were. The media will release images of them in happier times, tell us about their jobs and careers and children – as is already happening with Keith Palmer, the policeman who we now know died on the Parliamentary Estate.

It is those images which I hope will be shared: not just as a way to resist fear, but as a way of acknowledging them as more than victims – of forging a different connection, based not in horror and voyeurism, but in a small moment of shared humanity.

There is no shame in being affected by graphic images, however removed one “ought” to feel. If you would like someone to talk to, Mind can provide details of local services.

The BBC also provides advice for those upset by the news.

Find out how to turn off Twitter image previews here.

Stephanie Boland is digital assistant at the New Statesman. She tweets at @stephanieboland