Can Writing Heal the Brexit Wounds?

Can Writing Heal the Brexit Wounds?

Channel 4: Uncivil War

I have not seen the recent Channel 4 drama, Uncivil War. I doubt I will. I expect it will be too painful. But I have heard much in its praise, especially from partisan sources on social media which suggest it does not take sides and that it paints no one in a particularly flattering light. One comment I saw - from a leave supporter - suggested that anyone who was able to watch it without reflecting upon their own position was beyond reason. 

This got me thinking about how art might start to respond to events. It has to respond at some point, but because we are still undergoing the process, it is less able to do so, unable as I think we are to take a clear perspective on things. But perhaps the time is arriving, and this drama in particular is the first sign of art trying to help us process the pain?

Healing

Some kind of healing will be necessary. The archbishop of Canterbury has called for some government leadership in order to facilitate this, though I wonder if, rather than imploring the government, it were better the church seize the initiative and do it instead. Either way, he is right that this mood cannot be allowed to fester. He has a model to follow in this in the Church of Scotland, which held a service of unity following the 2014 referendum, though I know of none of its work in this area since that time. 

But what of the rest of us? Just as I argue Welby cannot simply wait for the government to take the lead but should seize the initiative himself, so too I argue the rest of us have a duty to do the same, whatever our place in society. If I am right about Uncivil War, then television and drama might already have made a start here. 

Harming

There is, of course, a danger. Words can heal, and words can harm. A cursory glance over social media should reveal just how ghastly some people are determined to be right now. Even in more formal work, there will be a number of people who relish opening fire at those who vote differently to them, or share a different vision. Such behaviour is the outcome of a petty mind, impossible to reason with; the product of character that desires not to reconcile but only to denounce. Most recently, the BBC version of Poirot at new year falsified history in order to associate the leave vote with fascism, so it has already started. I therefore state, with total confidence, that poisonous, tendentious and polemical work will naturally constitute the weakest work, most worthy to be disposed.

The form it should take

As suggested above, the perspective that time lends to us will enable us better to make sense of what we have been through, and I don't believe we are securely in that place, even if one good drama has made a start. Sometimes, these events will need to be tackled head on. At other times, it might help to explore these things through allegory.

It is easy to conjecture how. Take some of the factors of these times:

• long term friends falling out
• irreconcilable interests between different parties, factions or groups
• paranoia, denunciation, suspicion
• political rhetoric and its power for good and ill
• identity
• borders

and anything else you care to mention. All of these things can be discussed in drama, literature, art, music, whatever, without having to revive the myriad ghosts that lurk behind the spectre of Brexit, and this might help to reduce the inflammation. 

My own contribution

I have a first draft of a novel which does some of what I argue for, totally by accident. The story requires a hard political border and tension between two states. I invented a parallel world in which one of those states is the former capital city of the other, but which seceded several generations before. I conceived of the idea before the 2015 general election, when Brexit had not come into view, whilst out walking on Southborough common, soaking up the beauty of the place in the sunshine and contemplating the difference between my life in Kent and my old life in London. But if anyone were to read it now, not knowing these things, they would naturally see Brexit in it. I am comfortable with that. My world being a false creation, I can present secession without presenting a view on it, or alienating those who do come to it with their own views. 

Now I just need to redraft and get the blasted thing published.

Conclusion

It helps that I conceived of this story before Brexit, for I might not have been able to handle it so dispassionately in this atmosphere. But that only makes it more urgent that we try: feeding feuds and despising your neighbour, chewing the gristle of old grudge - this is easy, even satisfying; to reconcile requires good will and determination, which is in short supply at present. That is why Welby, and all of us who desire to reconcile, should find ways, including ans especially in writing, to seize the initiative, for otherwise we will be in the power of those who relish discord.

On TM and the US Travel Ban

On TM and the US Travel Ban

Throat clearing

Like many others, I am concerned at the callousness of the refugee ban, announced on Holocaust Memorial Day, and the blanket travel ban imposed on people based on their country of birth. I am also genuinely surprised that this affects US citizens - green card holders - and British citizens, of dual citizenship, including one of our own Conservative MPs, Nadhim Zahawi.

This is one of those moments where even the quietest of us must say something. But Theresa May has said almost nothing about this in public.

What I admire about May

One of the things I admire most about May is that she is no waster of words and does not allow herself to be boxed into certain positions. This can be irritating for a lot of people, as it means she rarely answers questions directly, either from the press or MPs, but it does mean that when she gives speeches at important moments, such as addressing US Republicans, or setting out her position on our future relationship with Europe, her words resonate both with the public and in political circles. Her silence at the Turkish press conference is therefore, in my view, in keeping with her MO, and does not bother me. In fact, I prefer my Prime Ministers not to indulge in megaphone diplomacy or reflexive virtue signalling.

That is one reason I admire her.

'But...'

The other reason I admire her is that she has shown in the past that she can establish principled and difficult positions on things, such as modern slavery, the Police Federation, reminding the Reps. about the value of NATO, global trade, etc. And in her conference with Trump, she made the point - a good one, too - that a meaningful relationship involves honest disagreements.

Now is the time for such a response.

But so far, the indications are that she would rather duck the issue. This would not be ethical, or politically tenable.

What should she do next?

PMQs is coming up on Wednesday. She had better have an answer by then.

Perhaps something along these lines:

• That the UK-USA relationship is meaningful: communications have been made to the US administration that Britain is opposed to these measures and will not adopt such a policy herself for some very good reasons.
• That some of those affected are British citizens and should be treated with due respect.
• That she has reminded the President of what it says in the front of every British citizen's passport:

Her Britannic Majesty's Secretary of State Requests and requires in the Name of Her Majesty all those whom it may concern to allow the bearer to pass freely without let or hindrance, and to afford the bearer such assistance and protection as may be necessary.

Reasons for Optimism

Reasons for optimism

What a world.

But there are reasons to be cheerful. Polonius-like, I shall be brief.

· If the West be in a state of revolution, and I think we are, then it is the most peaceful in history, done with votes instead of pitchforks or bombs. (I might be counting my chickens, but at time of publication, this holds true.)

· Brexit might work. Lots of countries have expressed interest in forging closer relations with us, including America (except for Obama, who is halfway out the door) and New Zealand. Furthermore, the referendum might have woken our democracy from its deep slumber, and lead to a democratic renewal in England. All of us must play our part, and move on from these traumatic and tormenting events with courage. We really are all in this together, and that is a good thing.

· Politics will stabilise. The Tories look set to reunite, and if Labour split (as they must surely do) the social-democratic wing should be able to renew itself with clarity and vigour, and provide the effective opposition that every democracy needs. This might be the shake-up our party system has needed.

· Women are set to take charge. Probably Theresa May, possibly Andrea Leadsome in Britain; already Merkel in Germany; probably Clinton in the USA. If there were any doubts that the glass ceiling was rebuilt after Thatcher left, then it must surely be shattered now. And it wouldn't be the first time the England had turned to a woman for her salvation in her hour of need.

· We can heal; divisions can be reversed. If there are two nations now in Britain and America, then at least we know it; and now that we know, we can start to do something about it.

· If it takes Brexit to wake the EU up to the dangers of its own making, then maybe - maybe - it can reform and save itself, for it is an accident of timing that popular pressure exploded in England first - I had always expected Greece to be the first to fall away from the EU. And if the EU cannot, or refuses to reform itself, then perhaps it is for the best if it pass into history, as it surely will.

· Social media never reflects reality. People must soon realise this. It's time to switch it off. Those who can't switch it off can be relied upon to get hysterical; it is safe and acceptable to ignore these people.

· We have survived worse. Probably. I think.

The new English Lit GCSE

Much of the content of the new GCSE will depend upon how exam boards react to the new official guidance. However, this is what the new guidance actually says the GCSE requires:

 at least one play by Shakespeare
 at least one 19th century novel
 a selection of poetry since 1789, including representative Romantic poetry
 fiction or drama from the British Isles from 1914 onwards.

The Shakespeare requirement is in the existing GCSE and represents no change.

The 19th century novel is not required to be 'British' and names no authors - so all this business about Gove demanding Dickens and Austen is just froth.

The poetry requirement is unlikely materially to affect the balance in composition of poetry anthologies, between 'heritage poetry' (as it is painfully known) and 'contemporary poetry'.

The 20th century drama/prose is required to be 'British Isles' - this could include anything from Scotland and Ireland as well.

It is obviously constructed to exclude mid-20th century American prose. As 90% of pupils study Mice and Men, a novel Gove is known to dislike, it is obvious that Gove is altering requirements to exclude it. But this is no 'narrower' or 'broader' than the present GCSE.

Some other thoughts

I neither endorse nor oppose these changes. I'll work with what I'm required to work with. However, some of the reaction has been quite astonishing.

Labour: 'Michael Gove is putting his own ideological interests ahead of the interests of our children.'

As though Labour were not also motivated by ideology: this is a common trick to depict one's opponents as irrational and oneself as sober and reasonable. Almost every position one could adopt in relation to Education depends upon one's world view, and just as these changes are undoubtedly rooted in ideology, so too are the reasons put forward in opposition.

Labour: 'His vision is backward-looking and preventing the rich, broad and balanced curriculum we need in our schools if our children are to succeed in the future economy.'

This argument derives from economic imperatives, which are not obviously pertinent when it comes to GCSE literature. It has nothing to do with the intrinsic value of different works of literature. It is also unclear why the present situation of three American authors from the mid 20th century is 'forward-looking' or 'broader' than the new requirements which stretch over 200 years and still permit the study of (older) American literature.

As a matter of interest, a book may still exist even if no longer be included on a GCSE syllabus. Schools are still going to be in possession of those books, and will still need something to teach in Year 9. As the new KS3 curriculum requires schools teach 'seminal world literature' it seems likely that these books will still be taught.

This piece from the Guardian is a case study in frenzy, the substance of which is not worthy of engagement. However, the headline is interesting:

To Kill a Mockinbird and Mice and Men axed as Gove orders more Brit Lit

I wonder why To Kill a Mockingbird is receiving equal weight in the reportage? Hardly anyone studies it anymore. Ninety percent of pupils study Steinbeck's novel, not Harper Lee's.

Feelings on a Sunday

It appears my new profession is not teaching, as I had thought, but rather I am going into mechanics, for just like my car I am to be subjected to an MOT.

I cannot tell if this be good or bad policy. A friend of mine who has been teaching a while reckons it might work but until I get some years' experience I shan't be in a position to judge. Any pronouncements I make would be made in audacity, not knowledge.

It worries me that the debate(s) which determine policy – in Parliament and in the media – are conducted in worser ignorance and blacker darkness, yet the advocates have no doubts. Nurses, teachers, doctors (who also now have MOTs), servicemen and women – mark how people may become a battleground. And in this particular field, Hunt is a combatant as much as Gove, and though he be new to the fight, yet he will cause as much collateral ere long. 

Perhaps this is part of the price we pay for democracy?

*

We make them play a charade, then we moan they play charades with us. Rather like the bizarre mating rituals in nature, where birds flick their tails in their mates' faces, one wonders why they can't just get down to it. Politicians have to make claims about themselves which we in turn are supposed not to believe. Primarily, they have to disclaim self-interest. They must constantly assure us that it is for our benefit they seek power for themselves. Naturally we scoff, but would you honestly cast your ballot for the candidate who says 'vote for me, for I seek power, status and influence'?

In other fields, few of us would pretend we had not thought of ourselves in what we do, although some individuals may find it helpful for their self-image if they affect piety and martyrdom. I freely admit one of my motives for going into teaching is to secure my future, pace Tristram Hunt (and others generally) who insist we must all be propelled by passion. (I wonder if The X-Factor have got to Hunt, too?) In making such an admission, those of my motives which are selfless are made more plausible. I may not be accused for admitting I am ambitious for those whom I serve as well as for myself, but woe to him who makes such a confession to a voter (and it is still normally a 'him' in politics).

We are of course very lucky that out of a vast field of competitors and wannabes, the decision on who gets the power is ours. And it is one of the perks of being governed by a professionalised political class that we may grumble about them even as we put them there. But a friend of mine once used an IT term to explain to me how, from such a vast pool as the American electorate, they may dredge up men of such low calibre to choose for the White House: garbage in, garbage out. For is it not true that this charade we make make them play, this dance we make them do, is no more than to demand of them that they lie to us? Is not the man who says 'vote for me that I may become powerful' more honest than he who says 'I am only thinking of you when I ask for your vote'? Yet we will always choose the he that is dishonest, only to wonder why we have such a Parliament of fouls. 

*

I have touched on passion. I doubt I shall ever write a cover letter again that makes no mention of how passionate I am about the matter in hand. It's another charade, of course, another mating ritual. The question which always comes up in a job interview is 'why do you want this job?' and the real answer is normally 'because I have bills to pay.' I suppose an election is basically just a big job interview, for briefly we all of us have to perpetrate the same kind of lie: no one admits they want to work for pay. The correct answer is that you are passionate about pouring pints.

If Hunt include passion in his MOT, then I am in trouble. I am too old fashioned to speak hysteria. I might have to take lessons from the drama teacher in how to choke on my tears of passion during my assessment. Perhaps such a performance would satisfy the next Labour government that I am fit to teach?

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Another Casual Broadside at Teachers

From a hack who states in his blog's biography that he 'works as a statistician', to denounce an indefinite number of unspecified teacher training providers, based on a sample of twelve job applications, is shoddy work. 

Concerning the recently published applications to a school in Brighton, better coverage by others deduces fewer conclusions using a greater number of the facts available. Graeme Archer, however, has jumped straight to his preferred conclusions using almost none of the facts. He has decided that all of this proves what he knew all along, that teacher training is the cause of bad teachers. Fine. Had Archer presented, say, statistical evidence that an unacceptably high proportion of NQT teachers in 2012 were 'semi-literate' after their training, then he might have a point. He has done no such thing. 

Had Archer presented evidence, say, that while training at some providers was excellent this year, it was below acceptable standards at others, then he might have a point. He has done no such thing.

Rather, he is giving us just one second hand, filtered anecdote for his evidence that PGCEs are 'producing' 'semi-literate' teachers. (I should say 'one-and-a-half', for Archer is careful to mention he has a teacher-friend - with a PhD - who also has concerns.) This is an extraordinary claim, which seems to confer upon PGCEs the power to undo literacy in adults, and which requires extraordinary evidence to prove. As a statistician, he would probably know that twelve job applications is no evidence at all.  

We know little about these twelve 'semi-literate' teachers, who stand for an entire profession. We know nothing, for instance, of when the applicants trained. This is important, for if there is a spread of years in which the applicants qualified, which seems likely given that the advertised post was for deputy-head, then it hardly tells us anything about teacher training today. We do not know where the applicants trained, which is important because there have always been a variety of training models and providers, which cannot all be assessed in the same breath. Some of them might not have done a PGCE.

We learn from elsewhere that the applicants in question had poor A-Levels and poor degrees, which instantly dates their training to before Michael Gove's new statutory degree requirements (a 2:2 or better) and, by default, rules out the PGCE as the cause of their inadequacies. Without seeing the forms themselves, it is not possible for us to judge whether the problem be poor literacy or typographical errors, (some of the recited examples could easily be typos), which would prove not poor literacy but inattention and carelessness, a cause for concern indeed but not the subject of accusation. Most of the information which would make a sample of twelve even remotely informative about the broader profession is missing.

The final paragraph is so naff as to be comedy, and worth quoting:

Those 12 semi-literate state-school applicants … [sic] I wonder how many of them possessed a PGCE? All of them, I expect. All of them out there, somewhere, teaching children how to think.

Like ghosts, or child-snatchers, or communists, lurking out there...somewhere...But a least he admits he does not know, he just 'expects' them all to 'possess a PGCE'. That's quite a glaring admission. If you're going to denounce the PGCE on a sample of twelve job applications, it pays to know if they did it or not.

Finally, and I speak as one who used to work in politics, and who owes no loyalty to Labour, it really isn't edifying to see the bashing of an entire profession serve as a proxy offensive on a political party. As a point of fact, Labour don't insist all teachers do the PGCE, they insist all teachers have QTS, which is not the same thing. While it is natural always to be vigilant about standards, and proper for a publicly-funded profession to be subject to political oversight and debate, we may still expect commentators to maintain standards of their own, including respect for evidence and a commitment to truth over ideology.

Fear and Loathing in Education

For those who grow weary of hacks, politicians, tweetsters and political anoraks who lecture us, and know little whereof they lecture us, read this piece by Anthony Seldonin the Guardian’s Comment is Free.

Ever get the feeling they're playing games with our lives?

I am a trainee teacher at the University of Exeter, on the traditional PGCE route. This term, we are mainly based at University but we spend a month of it on school placements. We are studying the theories that underpin teaching. This includes how children learn, learn to learn and (crucially for and English teacher) learn to read, amongst other things. You might think it’s obvious. You would be wrong. That’s the whole point of my being here.

Next term, I shall be on placement, in a school in Dorchester.

The term after that, I shall be on placement again, in a school on the Isle of Portland.

Shall we do the maths together? I shall spend two terms in school for (less than) one term in University. Let us express my training time as a ratio – 2:1.

This is not a recent innovation at Exeter, there is no old model which shunned school-based training but which is now overturned. Other universities arrange their terms differently, mixing weeks spent on campus with those spent in schools, but the school/university ratio is still basically the same – 2:1.

When Seldon refers to ‘the bulk of training’ now being ‘on the job’, he means the ‘Schools Direct’ scheme which has notionally moved training out of universities and into the classroom. This is misleading. It works like this: rather than applying to a university, applicants apply to a school. However, each training place is still affiliated to a university. In some cases, it is entirely true that training is exclusively in schools. In other cases, the trainee spends, say, one day in five at University, the rest of the week in school. But in many other cases, the difference between the PGCE model and School Direct Model is negligible. There are School Direct trainees on my own course at Exeter, for instance. That ratio again – 2:1. So there is a range of models in practice, there is no dichotomy between university and ‘on the job’ training.

Seldon would do well to look into teacher training before publishing his opinions about it. However, my beef is less with this article than with the trend which this article represents. How many hacks and politicians are, of a sudden, experts in education?

Would you like to explain this
to the children, or shall I?

On one point, Seldon is right. Nick Clegg is wrong to suggest that qualifications = good, no qualifications = bad. It’s nowhere as simple as that. However, Seldon is making the same mistake in framing the issue as being about the intrinsic value of qualifications, almost taking the extreme opposite view of a PGCE as being worse than useless. Most independent schools still prefer qualified teachers. The freedom they have to appoint unqualified teachers is precisely that – a freedom, to be exercised when the school judge fit. It is not the expression of a philosophy about the relative merits of teacher training.

But Clegg’s intervention was never about education. If his concern were genuine, he would have said something in Summer 2010. This is an overtly political manoeuvre to appease the Labour party (and maybe the unions too), nothing more. Just think tuition fees – that’s how Clegg behaves on policy.

King Lear with Cordelia.
Teaching this is not child's play.

It is as though politicians assume everything will fall apart without their meddling, that doctors, nurses and teachers depend on vote-chasers in order to do their jobs. But the press and commentariat is hardly better. Seldon’s idea of teachers as being analogous to parents renders the whole of education as an eleven-year day-care scheme. His idea of teacher training being merely ‘picking it up on the job’ – or, as I call it, learning by osmosis – is, one suspects, a model he would not endorse for his own children’s education. His comparison with vets and dentists to frame the idea of teachers as being born and not made is comical. It only takes a moment to knock it down. True, a dentist needs plenty of training to operate on one’s mouth, but she won’t get very far if she feel sick at the sight of rotten teeth or suffer from an acute sense of smell and aversion to halitosis. Regardless her scientific pedigree, a vet won’t flourish if she be ‘really more of a cat person’ and have problems with dogs and pet rats. ‘Born and not made’ is just a phrase that describes someone who exceeds his or her training, not an argument for doing away with it.

Seldon helps shape opinion, Clegg determines policy in government. The contributions of both of them are disappointing, but sadly common. Take one look over Twitter and Comment is Free and ask yourself if these are the best people to decide how to educate our young.

The Baroness

I was three when Thatcher left Downing Street. I don't remember he as Prime Minister. As a boy in the 1990s I heard much about her, like some giant from history. (They always hissed it, Maggie Thatcher, leaving me in no doubt she was to be hated and scorned.) It took me some while to realise this giant from history was not from history at all, not like Henry VIII with his wives or Churchill with his Spitfires. She was still there.

Now she truly passes into history, in the way I had always imagined her. Hefty tomes and great works are waiting to be written, a vast space on the shelf for her already cleared. I am not the one to assess her in office, or what she means for us now. I never lived it, I am no witness. I was right the first time when I thought her a giant like Henry or Winston, for I never saw them die either. That she lived on, even after she was assassinated, made no difference. She couldn't possibly die, could she? Yes she could - old and frail, demented and ailing, yes she could. But not in this wise: just as she haunted us when I was a boy, so will she haunt us when I die.