On two occasions recently, I have spoken to friends who have described their current workload in their chosen profession as ‘fine’. These conversations stand out precisely because they are so unusual. Most of my friends and colleagues seem to operate in a world where there are ‘simply not enough hours in the day’. If ever a phrase is nonsense, surely this must be it. So how do we redress the balance?

With regards my chosen profession of teaching, I wrote previously that nobody seriously believes that teachers work the bare minimum of hours. Indeed, recent research has shown that, whilst there have been some improvements since 2016, workload remains a significant issue for teachers, impacting recruitment, retention and wellbeing.

I feel that my perspective from the London 2012 project is worth mentioning here. In the final months and weeks before the 2012 Games began, I lost track of the number of interactions with friends, family and others that began along the lines of, ‘I bet you’re busy at the moment’. And that was true. However, I now find that every single term time is permanently akin to the weeks before the Games. I’ll state that again to make it crystal clear: every single day that I have spent in teaching has been lived at the intensity of being on the verge of the greatest show on earth.

Now I don’t mind the intensity; in fact, I relish it to some extent, and realise that busy people attract more work precisely because they get things done. But the quid pro quo of this intensity is the regular opportunity to recharge physical and emotional reserves during holiday periods. Teachers and children need the opportunity to sharpen the saw and, without them, I wonder how many teachers might have opted for a different profession in the first place.

Which brings me to an issue I have with the design of holidays in both the state and independent sectors, and the disparity which has emerged between them. Why are state schools mandated to provide 190 days of education whereas independent schools are not? Being employed in the independent sector and volunteering in the state sector, this disparity is unhelpful, unfair and, critically, not motivated by a desire to improve the education offered to the children. Furthermore, the disparity incentivises teachers to teach in the independent sector, and discourages them from returning to the state sector thereafter.

Hands are though tied in both sectors about the minimum amount of time that children can spend in school, not because it takes that time to cover the curriculum (otherwise all schools would have the same minimum) but because that was the decree of the government in 1999 which prioritised then, and continues to emphasise now, the negative impact on parents of shorter days or terms. The debate in recent times has focused only on extending the school day, ostensibly to improve opportunities and bring state schools more in line with independent schools with the extra-curricular offering, even though the financial motivation was once again all too apparent. Is it any wonder therefore that pupils, parents and teachers all had negative views about the freedom to increase the length of the school day if they were not also given the freedom to adapt term dates? The potential improvements for children identified by the EEF are surely worth exploring.

Ironically, the conformity of school holidays has of course attracted attention in the form of holiday prices and hence school absences. Parents prioritising their pockets has contributed to over 10% of children being taken out of school during term time, with learning disrupted inevitably for pupils and teachers no less accountable, even though parents have often quite rightly stressed the breadth of opportunity that they are trying to afford their progeny. With deregulation and choice seemingly the mantra of recent education policy, shouldn’t increased choice of when to holiday be afforded to all parents, just as it is in the independent sector where the wealthiest currently get to benefit from the cheapest holidays?

My view is that all schools should be able to set their term dates and lengths of days and weeks (Saturdays included), always with a view to prioritising the education of the children. Adjusting or extending school days, for instance to facilitate teenage sleep, could improve educational outcomes for all, as well as help to provide a greater range of educational opportunity. At the same time, staggering holidays would not only enable this change to happen in the first place, but also provide choice to parents and teachers. It would at the same time help to regulate demand on utilities like transport and improve access to popular holiday activities like visiting museums (the London Transport Museum was packed this half-term week).

Controlling time might be an elixir, but this simple adjustment might benefit children, parents, teachers and wider society time and time again.

Yesterday, I started a Masters in Education back at Cambridge. I am thoroughly looking forward to the opportunity to learn from other teachers and, more importantly, to reflect upon my own practice during the course of the next twelve months. However, the university will not be awarding the badge for thinking and reflection and I am also faced with the daunting prospect of writing a 20,000 word thesis about a topic of my choice; that is 20,000 words of substantive text not including references and appendices. It promises to be another busy academic year.

The choice that I now face is what to write about. I have two ideas that really interest me, both of which I have blogged about before: transition readiness; and genetically influenced education. Both topics are huge and fraught with ethical considerations and will hence prove controversial and even potentially confrontational. Never one to shirk a good discussion, I can’t wait.

Leatherhead, 27th September 2015

It’s been nearly a year since I wrote my last blog which is both a reflection of a dearth of ideas and being too busy settling into my new school. I have missed writing them though.

I recently found out that I have been accepted onto the course to complete a Masters in Education at Cambridge University next year. Far from being at odds with my previous blog, this will I hope allow me to develop and demonstrate my academic prowess whilst I continue the learning process with the practical aspects of the job of teaching. The offer has though turned my thoughts to what to write an extended piece of research about and one early idea is transition readiness.

The idea that the current transition from primary to secondary education is ill-timed first crystalised in my head about a year ago now when I observed a Dance class for Year 6 children at a school in Cambridgeshire. To say that I felt out of my depth to be able to teach such a class would be an understatement, as I have also felt when trying to teach upper primary school children Art, Music and Languages. This is of course the reason that many primary schools outsource these lessons, as well as those in Sport, to specialist teachers but the fact this does not happen in other subjects, most notably the core subjects, worries me.

I now find myself at a school where the children are fortunate enough to have specialist teachers from Year 5 onwards in all subjects. And I see no reason why this model could not and should not be the aim of all primary schools in order to allow children to fulfill their potential where they are showing aptitude. Most importantly, the children would experience better teaching and, as the Sutton Trust has demonstrated, content knowledge and quality of instruction are the two factors with the strongest evidence of improving pupil attainment. I also think it would improve the workload for teachers who currently have to prepare lessons in subjects they lack knowledge and confidence in. Effectively, this would bring the transition to secondary education forward by two years.

This then started me thinking about the other potential benefits of moving the transition to secondary education. Not only would children and teachers benefit, the primary school system which is creaking under the pressure on school placeswould be at least temporarily relieved buying more time to build the necessary infrastructure and train the necessary staff to keep the primary sector afloat, especially in geographic areas experiencing significant pressure.

There is also a further benefit I see, reflected in the horror felt by teachers, parents and the media alike when discussion about sex education in primary schools has been discussed. Evidence suggests that diet has caused puberty in humans to start earlier. There is also a plethora of research ongoing about the impact that modern society is having: from clothing such as bras for young children to rising levels of mental health issues. Primary school teachers often feel ill-equipped to tackle these issues, a challenge which would be reduced by moving transition to secondary school earlier where teachers are more used to facing the issues arising from puberty.

Whether this is a good idea or not, I find it surprising that I can find no reference to such a debate taking place in government, schools or unions. This is what has further inspired me to want to complete a Masters (and potentially go further) to be able to address the matters that concern me with education in the UK. It is yet another reason why the College of Teaching is such an excellent and overdue idea.

Leatherhead, 9th April 2015

It’s that time of year at universities around the country when the views of the students are sought. Which has inspired me to finally crystalise the below thoughts…

Having been fortunate enough to attend two universities ranked in the world’s top 100, you would think I might be a passionate defender of a university education. I am, I hope, aware of just how fortunate I am to have been able to make this choice in my life and I would make the same choices again were I to be able to rewind the clock. However, the reasons why I would do so should at least make higher education institutions think, and possibly cringe.

At Durham, I learnt to live independently, I met many friends, I played a lot of sport and I had a great time growing up. Incidentally, I did just enough work to get a good degree, usually in complete absence of any academic guidance from the faculty. Not coincidentally, on the reputation of the degree and my extra curricular interests, I secured a well-paid job. At Cambridge, I have learnt how to teach; however, the impact of the school mentors who have trained me and my fellow students that were also enticed by the reputation of the university have significantly outweighed the impact of the course itself. With a couple of notable exceptions at both institutions, the quality of the teaching has been shocking. But of course the majority of the ‘teachers’ are not at universities to teach just as many students are not at university to study their subject; hardly a perfect symbiosis.

I attended a debate at the Union Society when I first arrived here asking whether university was a wise investment (the full debate is here for anyone with an hour to spare – although don’t watch the questions unless you want to be reassured that stupid people can get into Cambridge). Of course, the fifteen year gap between my university experiences has heralded the advent of tuition fees resulting in significant debt. Notwithstanding the likely prospect that a significant number of debts will never be repaid, nor the national differences from our imperfect union, one of the central tenets of the ‘no’ argument was that universities are yet to grasp who their new clients are. With this in mind, there are significant threats to many institutions, such as global competition for the most pre-eminent thinkers, the advent of MOOCs, and fear of student debt.

So, would I choose to burden myself with £40,000+ of debt to be taught by people who want to research, not teach? Well, as a humanities student who has never been called upon to use any of my historical knowledge nor few of my research skills in my various jobs, I would still argue that the financial prospects would say yes; resoundingly. Equally, the absence of a degree on my CV would likely affect me in all kinds of ways that I can barely imagine due to the prejudice associated with the expectation of having one. My social life would be very different too. Perhaps I am just a wealthy hypocrite but therein lies the injustice.

I am of course someone who had no idea what I wanted to do at 18 and therefore chose a non-vocational subject in order to delay the decision; I am fortunate that I could make that choice in a time before tuition fees but just as I was far from alone at Durham I suspect there are plenty of prospective students today who wish they were as fortunate. There will always be those who have a clear vision and who will choose their degree accordingly. But, whether intended or fortuitous, the benefits of attending university as an undergraduate are so much more than an imperfect academic education.

For these reasons, I expect more corporate input into universities, something captured in this editorial in the Observer today. Not only do employers want people with the potential to become skillful employees, they want mature individuals who have learnt to live independently, who have other interests and who have a network of likeminded friends. Employers helping to fund degrees would also demand the skills that they want from their employees, such as to communicate, negotiate, empathise and report, all skills which could be coached better at university. Although many academics would be distinctly uneasy at, indeed ill-suited to, this change, the writing is surely already on the (red-brick or plate glass) walls.

Cambridge, 25th May 2014

Two of my friends are currently being coerced into joining a teaching union. Whilst one is receiving multiple phone calls from union representatives having left contact details at a recent university fair, the other is being told that by not signing up he is undermining the position of everyone else who has joined the union. These tactics are not only manipulative and alarming, they undermine the credibility of union membership. As a new member of the teaching profession, BOGOF and similar style incentives to join a union allied to a rather masonic secrecy in staff rooms further persuade me that these are not professional bodies and I would prefer not to sign up.

However, my real issue would be joining in. Now I should state here that I share significant concerns with unions about various changes to the profession: performance related pay, tests for 4 year olds, untrained teachers in classrooms, and chronological rigidity in the primary history curriculum amongst other changes are all misguided and sorely lacking in corroborative research. That said, striking is absolutely not the solution and does more harm than good to the profession: not only are children and parents the biggest losers every time a strike takes place, the already maligned professionals look like Kevin the teenager standing in the playground complaining ‘it’s so unfair’.

As a serving policeman where striking is illegal for public safety, so striking should be illegal for anyone who believes in a child’s right to an education. Kahneman’s loss aversion theory explains the asymmetry of feelings about concessions in negotiations between teachers and the government, but if teachers feel strongly enough about change then we have ample time to protest during school holidays. This would generate significant credibility for the cause by demonstrating the strength of feeling to protest in our own time, avoiding disruption for parents, and ensuring that education of the children remains sacrosanct.

Sympathy and credibility would be further generated by scrapping Baker days which once more inconvenience parents and harm the education of the very people we are here to support: having just had a two week break, many schools will be child-free today to give teachers time to plan or professionally develop. I was also staggered to find out recently that parents’ evenings are now often parents’ mornings or afternoons, once again disrupting the lives of parents and the education of children. Nobody with any credibility seriously believes that teachers work a 7 hour day from 0830 to 1530 but just as performance related pay is misguided because we don’t do this for the money so seeking sympathy and compensation for the hours worked is misguided if we militantly disrupt those we serve.

All of which leads me to believe that a better and more credible association of teachers than a union would be professional bodies similar to medical colleges. Just as these colleges are divided into specialisms such as surgery and anesthesia, so teaching colleges could divide into early years, primary, secondary humanities, secondary sciences, etc, reflecting the level of training and specialism required for these branches of education. Similar to other professional institutions, these colleges would be responsible for stipulating and recognising professional development. Whilst aspiring to the level of professional credibility that doctors have might be currently fanciful (although Finnish teachers would dispute this), professional colleges would disarm those pathologically opposed to unions who find it so easy to malign the profession when we are busy shooting ourselves in the foot. In that way, we would avoid the risk of striking out and instead be on our way to the major leagues.

Cambridge, 22nd April 2014

I have lost count of the number of times over the years that I have said that I am at my best when I am learning. At various stages in my life and career, this has not been the case and I have been bored and apathetic as a consequence; not that I have always known it at the time (although my friends and family will have done!). Learning of course takes many forms, from emotional to factual to coordinational, and everything in between. I read recently of an experiment conducted in the 1960s that confounded psychologists at the time in that it appeared to reveal (in chimps) an innate desire to learn for the sake of learning, without the prospect of extrinsic reward or judgement. Take that, performance related pay!

I have just finished the excellent book, ‘the Sports Gene’, by David Epstein (despite, or maybe because, of his background, I think he should have called it something like ‘the Talent Gene’ so as not to scare off those people who find sport anathema – it is about so much more than sport). Exploring the complexities of the nature vs nurture debate, the book details the growing understanding that we have for the role of genetics. Even in 2014, it seems we have barely scratched the surface of unlocking potential in the human genome and there is plenty of exciting work currently underway.

Needless to say, it is a controversial topic and advocates of Ericsson’s 10,000 hours theory, such as Matthew Syed (see Bounce), will I am sure bristle at some of the insights and suggestions. It is uncontroversial to think of height, hair colour or other forms of physical resemblance as genetically inherited; in fact, parents usually revel in it. However, whilst some people might seek solace in seeing a disease or obesity as a genetically inherited trait, the postulation that memory or perseverance could be inherited would immediately cause academic and popular consternation.

But, obese and persevering people, it seems to me that you can’t have your cake and eat it too: why should some things be inherited and others not, simply because it appears at first unpalatable ethically that this might be the case? Epstein is commended by various reviewers of his book for tackling some of these issues head on. And yet, as the research he explores continues apace, I am sure his steps will soon appear somewhat timid. We are of course mired by twentieth century efforts at human genetic manipulation and yet, at the same time, we take genetic modification for granted in horse racing and dog breeding.

This unnatural selection has sometimes caused genetic problems for the breeds in question and yet it has also allowed unethical humans to push the boundaries of speed, trainability and beauty, amongst other characteristics. What I like about Epstein’s book is that it begins to point to the positive potential of knowing about your own genetic makeup; how you can use the information about yourself to make better decisions about your lifelong learning, such as eliminating strenuous exercise if you are prone to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Yes, your lifelong learning, meaning I share Epstein’s view that nurture is just as important as nature to who you are and who you become, if not who you start out.

Sure, in the wrong hands or with the wrong intentions, genetic information could be fraught with despondency and manipulation, but it seems to me that, whether we like it or not, this ship is sailing and we have a choice: ignore it and pretend we all have unlimited potential or embrace it and recognise that our diversity is our strength and right. There needn’t be a clash between science and ethics if we view the glass half full. Of genes; ready to make a cocktail. I, for one, wish I knew what was in my glass so that I could make better decisions about my future. But perhaps I inherited positivity and curiosity too!

Addendum: I started wondering why I write these blogs. Perhaps nobody reads them but me. However, I would still write them as it helps remind me of what and how I was thinking. It is somewhat indulgent and pretentious of me to store these musings online but it also helps give me some perspective on my own views as well as keeping me honest enough to keep doing so.

Southampton, 16th April 2014