Charlynne Pullen
posted 29 August 2007

The main argument in this book is that moves to make the curriculum more ‘relevant’ to the views and experience of young people are fundamentally anti-intellectual and reduce not only the content of what is taught, but also young people’s interest in it. Geography, foreign languages and science seem to be most affected by this anti-intellectualism and lack of belief in the capabilities of young people to learn aspects of subjects perceived to be ‘hard’. In foreign languages and science in particular, it seems that the independent sector is making a stand and opting out of move towards ‘relevance’, serving only to make those two subjects, and ‘traditional’ subjects in general, once again the preserve of an elite.

In his introduction, Frank Furedi argues that a major problem with education, and in particular citizenship education, is the lack of consensus over British society’s basic values, and that the crisis in education is more broadly reflective of an increasingly fundamental erosion of authority and tradition. This is an interesting assertion, but frustratingly it is not developed in the rest of the book, which comprises separate chapters on different subjects without any single overarching argument or analysis.

Alex Standish’s chapter, ‘Geography used to be about maps’, does take up the theme of citizenship, making a comprehensive critique of ‘global citizenship’ and how it has taken over the subject formerly known as geography. Standish convincingly argues that global citizenship seeks to eradicate national government from the political consciousness of young people. He sees global citizenship as an ad hoc mix of individualism and global action, which ignores the potential of political protest and influence at a national level. Young people are literally taught to ‘think global, act local’ but not to engage in national politics. This is clearly at odds with the stated aim of citizenship education, particularly with respect to the ‘Every Child Matters’ outcome of ‘making a positive contribution’, which, while almost ritualistic, is supposed to encourage young people to participate politically at a local and national level. So why is the geography curriculum are teaching young people to ignore national politics?

Standish argues the problem is that the curriculum is fundamentally about moralism, not knowledge, and this makes it clearly anti-intellectual and anti-democratic. Philosophically, Standish feels geography has accepted Foucault’s post-structuralist idea that educators should be the agents of social change, and geography teachers have become instructors in morality and inculcators of a particular brand of values. This embrace of teaching ‘social change’ without substantial content has left young people without the intellectual grounding to which Standish argues they are entitled. The ‘global citizens’ that are being moulded are diminished versions of political subjects, and ascribe to pre-packaged ‘global ethics’ rather than establishing and using their own moral compass. This kind of education, says Standish, assumes that neither children nor adults are capable of acting as independent moral agents, as they have no capacity for independent thought and no understanding of what is required to participate in the politics of global ethics. Standish puts up a credible critique of global citizenship and the way it is taught through geography in schools. Anyone teaching citizenship in schools or making policy on the issue would do well to reflect on the lessons in this chapter.

The final chapter, ‘What is science education for?’ by David Perks, sets out the arguments behind a campaign run by Perks with the Institute of Ideas Education Forum against the new science GCSE, which has also been much criticised in the press. The GCSE is widely regarded to be very light on facts and understanding, and heavy on debates about public health policies such as MMR and other science-related debates like nuclear power and genetically modified crops. Perks argues that this not only doesn’t lead to proper scientific understanding, it actually puts further obstacles in front of those students who would like to study science subjects past GCSE level.

The new GCSE is based on the concept of ‘scientific literacy’ which aims to ‘empower students as future citizens and consumers of science, rather than train them as future scientists’ according to Perks. He attacks the idea that science must be made ‘relevant’ to ordinary citizens and pupils, rather than engaging them in understanding the fundamental principles of physics, chemistry and biology. He argues that in trying to get pupils to debate they learn ‘disembodied theory’, which is ‘even more useless than dry facts’. Also, he makes the point that making science more ‘relevant’ to young people is highly patronising because an ‘ignorance and lack of interest is presumed’. Perks then explains that ‘traditional’ science is really about building models and continually reshaping them, so that pupils get to a point where they become conscious of what it means to build and try out new models themselves, while testing their ideas against experimental evidence. This provides the argument that ‘traditional’ science is certainly not just about rote learning.

Perks argues that a lack of belief in the intellectual capacity of young people is apparent in the introduction of modular courses, which do not allow young people to develop an understanding of a GCSE course as a coherent whole. This makes them generally less aware of the impacts that the content of each module has on others. Like other contributors to the book, Perks argues that independent schools can opt out of the modular system and the compulsion to teach ‘scientific literacy’, with the result that rigorous science education, in particular separate sciences at GCSE, is left to an elite.

If ‘scientific literacy’ continues, Perks argues that it is difficult to see where much-needed specialist subject teachers will come from, as fewer and fewer students are choosing to study physical sciences at university; only one in eight trainee science teachers is a physics graduate. The solution to all these problems, according to Perks is having separate subjects at GCSE level, so each student has to take Physics, Chemistry and Biology, with each subject taught by specialists, allowing for more content in the three separate sciences. The solution certainly sounds plausible, and it will be interesting to see whether this will be realised, given the recent split of the Department for Education and Skills by Gordon Brown.

Shirley Lawes’ chapter ‘Foreign languages without tears’ is damning about the national curriculum in foreign languages, and with much cause. It is certainly true that the ‘teaching and learning of modern languages is being pushed to the margins of education at all levels’. Certainly, at undergraduate and even at A Level, foreign languages are very much the preserve of the independent schools, and increasingly so at GCSE since the government’s decision to make modern languages optional from age 14. Modern languages as a discipline is about understanding another culture and another body of literature, as well as understanding another language. But at school level, functionality has won out and as Lawes states, languages have ‘become little more than a survival toolkit for a holiday abroad’. It is no wonder then that young people find languages superficial and boring.

Lawes suggests that methodological issues are also to blame, however, and that a greater interest in learning strategies and pedagogy may be one way to approach the problem. Picking up the theme common throughout the book, that the most recent national curriculum is anti-intellectual, Lawes argues that the only way to reverse the trend is to encourage a better syllabus for the thinking child to help them understand other cultures and other literature through a new language.

Some of the other chapters are less convincing. As a history graduate myself, I had been looking forward to Chris McGovern’s chapter entitled ‘The New History Boys’, but found it thoroughly disappointing. The lack of understanding of the nature of history as a discipline in this chapter is shocking. In particular, McGovern quotes Thatcher in support of his own argument that history is simply ‘an account of what happened in the past’. In fact, history is a discipline that thrives on debate about not only what happened (because frankly the idea that there is only one version of history is just wrong), but also different interpretations of history, different theories, different models and more. This simplistic idea that there is a single, ‘correct’ version of history to be taught shows a fundamental misunderstanding.

Aside from that disturbing assertion, McGovern claims that ‘New History’ which aims to look outside the narrow boundaries of political history and encompass the whole of society and economics within its reach, is dangerous. He instead argues that young people should be taught a ‘traditional and mainly political British history course for GCSE’. Unfortunately for Mr McGovern, history has moved on somewhat from rote learning and singing ‘British’ songs in lessons. There are undoubtedly problems with the history curriculum, not least that many schools opt to teach the same period of history for a number of years, so students can end up studying German 1933-1945 in five consecutive years. The move to encourage students to analyse and assess different interpretations of history, however, is much more positive. I would suggest that McGovern seeks to update his reading of historical theory, possibly beginning with EP Thompson’s ‘The Making of the English Working Class’ (first published 1963)…

Michele Ledda’s chapter on ‘English as a dialect’ argues that the poor linguistic ability of children is a direct result of the curriculum, which Ledda argues does not value education as an end in itself. What I find most interesting about this chapter, however, is the admission that Ledda supports neither the idea of ‘lifelong learning’ nor the QCA’s goal to teach young people to ‘learn how to learn’. Given that these seem admirable aims, Ledda does not provide an adequate explanation of why he objects to them. The chapter on mathematics education by Simon Patterson meanwhile is limited in scope and length, but argues that the learning model in the national curriculum for maths is flawed because it does not allow enough time for teachers to go through topics in sufficient detail, and it is overloaded with too many disparate elements. His solution to this problem is to reduce the content of the curriculum and to ensure a coherent narrative.

Although some of the solutions in the book seem flawed, in particular in the history curriculum, the collection as a whole shows that action certainly needs to be taken against the trend towards anti-intellectualism in the national curriculum, as well as the paradoxically depoliticising focus on ‘glocalism’ at the expense of engagement with national politics, to ensure that each young person gets the best education possible.