I see they have started making “Gove – the sequel”. It happens. A character has such impact that the producers cannot resist reviving him. Often the villain or monster, he wreaks such devastation in the original, that repetition of the storyline in a whole new setting is, apparently, irresistible. Watch out for the franchise and pity the lawyers.

Meanwhile, to my extreme discomfort, I find I may agree with Michael Gove about something. The English Baccalaureate (Ebacc) originates from his tenure in the DfE and I am strangely drawn to what I assume is its underlying premise: that there may be an innate value in studying some subjects. Gove called it a “broad and balanced curriculum”. An ugly phrase and loaded with specific associations concerning way he wanted to implement it, but we will use it for now.  I have not met anyone who disagrees with the general principle: that there is value in studying English, and Maths, and a couple of science subjects, and a humanities subject, and a language. This is no more than the renewed codification of a long-standing tradition of English education. It fascinates me to consider the interconnected benefits of these choices: how learning a different language provides insight into one’s native language and into the way language shapes and structures our thoughts; that studying sciences develops our ability to think critically about evidence and what we can (even must) accept as fact – accept as real and true – while English literature can open our minds to entirely complementary understandings of reality and truth. The word “humanities” is simply glorious – the study of human culture according to Wikipedia. How amazing is that? We may, we should, debate and resist the exclusion of the arts and RE, but still, it’s a good starting point. That’s what Gove suggested our children should do. All the way through to age 16.

However, there are two major difficulties, both concerned with the fact that the end of secondary education is marked by public examinations.   The one featuring on my twitterfeed at the moment is the suggestion that the Ebacc may be made compulsory. The Ebacc is a fine aspiration.  I think many – most – students would gain from studying subjects under its aegis. I also think it right to ask questions about any correlation between socio-economic factors and students not studying the Ebacc. But I am uncomfortable with the suggestion that this should be for all and convinced that the decision as to who might be a valid exception to the rule should lie not with the DfE but at a more local level. Surely this decision should be delegated to the combined judgements of the teachers, the parents and the student? I’m not saying their judgement would be perfect but if we can’t trust them to do their best on that decision, then it raises far graver, concerns about their responsibilities to our hypothetical individual child.

If we can’t trust them…. well that goes to the heart of the matter.  The DfE has implied for some years now that we can’t trust the teachers and much as I would like to rant, that should wait for another blog.

So back to the Ebacc. Its value lies with what might be learned, not the results that might be gained.  It might, perhaps, be better to study this range of subjects and struggle with one or two, because there is a cumulative benefit.  This simply refuses to be shoehorned into the existing school accountability system without further damage. The DfE – and Gove must take some blame for this – imposes its own value system whereby some qualifications are, like the pigs in Animal Farm, more equal than others. The benefits I can see in the Ebacc will be lost. Students will be encouraged… directed… commanded… to take humanities and a language because the qualifications count for more in this reductive performance measure context. Nothing about the values and benefits of these subjects, less and less about what might be learned, only about the grade which might be gained. The accountability framework irresistibly reduces schooling to a countdown towards an examination.

The paradox here, of course, is that schools are blamed for changing their practice to improve their performance according to the DfE measures, while the DfE changes the measures explicitly to affect school practice.   I wanted to write “you can’t have it both ways” but apparently you can. It’s a sad, bitter, demoralising stage of affairs.

Yet I am adament that the value of education lies within the process of learning, for which the examination is merely a proxy measure. I suspect that Michael Gove would like to agree with that but, ironically, given his much touted concern for language, his legacy to schools is to have distorted and even removed the lexicon whereby such ideas can be seriously debated.