What do misbehaving students, a bus crash in Coventry, the Tottenham riots and our current government have in common?
The concept of empathy is one I have long been interested in. Differences between students can often be attributed to varying levels of empathy – persistent low level misbehaviour speaks volumes about that particular child’s lack of empathy for students around him or her. Generally speaking, the more empathetic a student is, the better their relationship with their peers and the adults around them; it comes as no surprise that these students often achieve more highly than less empathetic students.
Simon Baron-Cohen’s brilliant and precise ‘Zero Degrees of Empathy: A New Theory of Human Cruelty’ had me thinking about the links between empathy and student behaviour. His assertion that certain people exhibit “a pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others that begins in childhood or adolescence, and continues into adulthood” may seem only to apply on the surface to those with diagnosed pathological conditions and yet, as teachers, particularly in urban, deprived areas, do we not see these behaviours exhibited by our poorest behaved students on daily basis? These students turn into the adults of the future, sometimes taking their low empathy levels with them. Some of them become inconsiderate drivers, noisy neighbours, litter-droppers, looters and muggers.
Whose responsibility is it to teach people to consider others, to be more empathetic?
The curriculum (when we have one coherent one) ignores this life skill – it is overlooked by those who design the curriculum, perhaps out of a mistaken belief that it is not a teacher’s responsibility to develop levels in empathy in children. We don’t explicitly teach empathy; it is a by-product of studying History, Literature, PSHE and RE but it is not something that is taught as a life skill that can mean the difference between success and failure. It doesn’t fit onto a league table. It would look odd nestled in the data outlining A*-C grades including English and Maths. And yet, in our society – one that is struggling against a ‘me-first’ culture highlighted most horrifically by the Tottenham riots – we can’t afford to ignore the impact of ignoring this most human of skills.
Recently, in Coventry (a town blighted by the German bombing and then by some shockingly poor architectural choices), a bus carrying passengers crashed into a pawn shop, scattering the gold in the window display. I would like to think that if I was on a bus and this had happened, my fellow passengers’ first instincts would be to check on each other, to make sure that everyone was safe, out of danger and uninjured. But no: many of the passengers and onlookers began looting the gold, scrabbling in the debris for what they could gather up. They left the scene with their pickings. When reading this story, I couldn’t help but associate it with other instances of disintegrating empathy. Only someone with very low levels of empathy could set fire to buildings that may be occupied during the Tottenham riots; only someone with very low levels of empathy could assault a Malaysian student and pretend to be helping him. Lack of compassion has been very much in the news in the last few weeks – a recent study by the journal Psychological Science suggested this week that the less compassionate you are, the less moral you become.
Where, then, does a decreased ability to display empathetic behaviour come from? Have we always been this way? In a lesson with Year 11 students, we were discussing Hamlet. In analysing the line: “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark”, my students made the link between the quality and style of leadership and the knock-on effects on state and society. Claudius, the ‘king’, is rotten and therefore, the country is too. We don’t have to travel too far to see the parallels in our own society. Empathy is not a feature associated with the Coalition government, or those appointed by it. Sir Michael Wilshaw’s statement almost sums up my argument: “If anyone says to you that ‘staff morale is at an all-time low’, you know you are doing something right”. When you’ve finished being astounded by the sheer bullishness of the line, it is hard to find an iota of empathy in that sentence. The sacking of Downhills Primary governing body by Michael Gove can be seen as yet another nail in the coffin of empathy. The act in itself is the result of complex wranglings influenced by the need to demonstrate total control over a system that is powered, ultimately, by human beings with human feelings. Whatever our opinions on school underachievement, the end result leaves onlookers asking uncomfortable questions about the methodology of improvement on such a public scale.
Combine Sir Michael Wilshaw with Michael Gove, add in cuts to services such as domestic violence support charities, whisk in a whole host of measures that adversely affect women and ethnic minorities, and sprinkle liberally with a reduction in public sector pay in the poorest areas and you’re left with a potent mix that may account for the unease in communities. It’s a recipe that lacks one vital ingredient: empathy.
The inevitable consequence of a right-wing government that is more interested in the stick than the carrot and nothing in between can only lead to a society that reflects their own lack of empathy. Society is a mirror of leadership. I don’t imagine the Coalition government sees itself in the Tottenham riots, or the bus passengers that looted the pawn shop – but maybe it should. Maybe it should.
I imagine you’d find it odd going back to work after a six week hiatus in which arson, looting and the total breakdown of society have been laid at the door of your profession, in not so many words. Teachers all over the country have returned to work and most importantly, many of them have returned with these messages ringing in their ears: you aren’t good enough, we’re going to open new kinds of schools and let the private sector show you how it is done.
Thanks. Leadership in education is a fine balance between carrot and stick, yet it seems that this week, David Cameron has chosen a large stick and abandoned carrot for good. His assertion that “those opposing free schools are simply defending the establishment – an establishment that has failed pupils and infuriated parents for too long” made me pause in wonderment. The declaration that private establishments like Eton could help turn around state education only made my jaw drop further. David Cameron’s leadership and management textbook chapter this week clearly focuses on how to break your workforce down only to build them up again in some miraculous manner. Objective achieved, Mr Cameron, I feel rubbish.
The constant reference to the ‘failure’ of current educational models is, quite simply, a lie that is used to serve a political purpose. It doesn’t work in the interest of raising standards for all. It does not encourage a sense of collegiality between educational establishments and it certainly does not encourage qualified and professional candidates to join the workforce. In the past ten years, an astounding amount of work has been put into recruiting teachers into a profession that is valued; why would anyone want to be a teacher when the message from government is that most schools are either ‘coasting’ or ‘failing’? Why would anyone join the profession when the implication is that you might end up being complicit in the “scandalous acceptance of under-performing schools”?
To return to collegiality, I am sure I am not the only teacher in state education to feel a little incredulous when told that private education can teach us all a thing or two about teaching. A friend of mine worked in a tough inner-city school in Edmonton, an area notorious for being deprived and dangerous. When he and his partner relocated to Scotland, he found a job working for a private institution. He was amazed by the difference in teaching he experienced: no real need for assessment for learning, no reference to objectives or outcomes, no need for any interactivity or independent learning – just a relentless information-heavy hour where the children did very little and still performed very well. You don’t need to be a genius to work out that teaching in a private school is very different from teaching in an inner-city state school with high levels of deprivation. In the most uncollegial way, I would like to see exactly what a private school teacher could teach me about teaching.
I’m afraid I am a little confused about Mr Cameron’s exact aim. If he wants to replicate the Swedish education system, he may have to do some serious rearranging of British society. Swedish society is largely homogenous and their education system does not cater for the diversity of our population, nor the large gap between the richest and the poorest. If he wants to allow all middle class parents to place their children in schools where the presence of the poor is limited, he cannot be on the same chapter as me in the great history of this nation – I was certain that the agenda was increased social mobility, not a segregation of rich and poor from an earlier age than previously recorded. If he wants to improve education, is he really going to do it by making a large percentage of his workforce feel like they have failed? That’s not how I raise attainment in my classroom – if I did that, I would fail in my objective – to ensure that each and every child feels like they can achieve something in their time with me. Nobody wins when they are constantly told they are doing it badly.
It feels like our government’s understanding of change in education is very different to mine. For me, change in education is only possible through the collective movement towards an improved delivery of knowledge, a sharing of pedagogy and a deep understanding of the needs of each echelon of society. It is not the creation of competition; it can only be improvement through collaboration. All too often, even now, successful schools guard their success jealously – becoming exclusive boxes, islands in the middle of boroughs, rich and poor. We need replicable models, built on fair intakes – and I refer specifically to the news that some free schools will only have a fifth of their intake on free school meals.
To put it simply, by defending the many thousands of schools who get it right every day, sometimes in tougher circumstances than David Cameron can ever imagine, I am not defending failure. I am defending success. Comprehensive education is not dead in the water. It has produced successful people who now prop up society in all sorts of ways and I would hope that I am one of those people. And, as a product of the comprehensive system and a teacher who started her career in a comprehensive school in Newham, I guess I am more qualified than Mr Cameron to know what it gave me and what it gives thousands of children on a daily basis.