Mr Bates and the Art of Impact

I spend a lot of time thinking about how to use evidence to influence policy. In a burgeoning landscape of advice and toolkits for academics and think tankers seeking to gain traction in the system, there is often a more or less explicit emphasis on the importance of quantitative evidence and killer facts. 

Further back in the system of knowledge production, there’s been a tilt towards STEM subjects being identified as a key source of important, policy-friendly evidence. Our politics is full of people talking up the value of science, tech and AI, while downgrading the significance of studying arts and humanities subjects. I talked about this in a blog about the Tories and education policy, where a fondness of branding some degrees as ’Mickey Mouse ‘or ’low quality’ was plain to see.  There is a constant emphasis on market return on students’ courses – with creative arts frequently being labelled as delivering a ‘low premium’ in terms of graduate earnings. 

Meanwhile, somewhere in your local university, you’ll find academics writing notes to put towards ‘impact case studies’ to illustrate the value of their research, and to secure future funding for their departments through the massive exercise known as the REF, the Research Excellence Framework.  As part of this process, academics show how their work has had impact in the wider world, in influencing policy or contributing to well-being in society. It is often easier to demonstrate this in scientific and technical subjects, where new discoveries, products or treatments can result in readily identifiable effects on individual or social conditions. In social sciences, humanities and arts, such external impacts can be harder to pin down – enlightenment is rarely a tick-box exercise; informing public debate is not always easy to measure or prove.

And yet, in the headlines about the Post Office scandal, it is a TV drama, not a folio of facts or technical documents, which has finally provided the impetus towards resolution for the wrongly-accused postmasters, caught up in one of the major miscarriages of justice in recent times. The computer system used by staff to reconcile their accounts was known to be faulty, and yet people were being accused of wrongdoing, and asked to cover any apparent losses from their own funds.  Within days of the broadcast of Mr Bates vs the Post Office on ITV, there were questions in parliament, and high profile consideration of a mass quashing of convictions for post office workers who have not yet been able to fully clear their names, nor obtain compensation.  A petition signed by over 1 million people has resulted in the former CEO of the Post Office returning the CBE she was awarded at the end of her tenure. 

Why has a drama had such impact? Because storytelling and empathy are critical to human understanding, and a communal cultural event like ’old-fashioned’ linear television breeds discussion amongst many people at once – the much vaunted ‘water cooler moments’ which have real resonance. A screed of position papers, and the dogged reporting of a select few journalists hasn’t managed to substantially shift the dial on the (very) long running Post Office saga until now. A drama with human stories at its heart, has cut through public apathy. As Toby Jones, the lead actor in Mr Bates vs the Post Office points out, drama has always been part of social change, conveying emotions and opening up new possibilities.  Audiences can learn a lot through seeing other people’s experiences unfold.  And having put themselves in others’ shoes, they can be spurred to action, as the aftermath of this TV drama so clearly demonstrates.

So, next time someone says that the arts are just for dreamers, or that drama degrees are a bit useless, remind them of the impact of Mr Bates vs the Post Office, and how it has helped to bend the arc of history towards justice. It shows that making a drama out of a crisis is just the right thing to do sometimes. Maybe the power of this programme should inspire new campaigns in favour of local arts funding, and against the closure of university departments.  Only a few days ago, Suffolk county council proposed axing all arts funding in the face of wider cuts, and a number of universities are planning staff cuts and department closures, predominantly in arts and humanities fields. When they are gone, who knows which stories could be left untold?

Schools for scandal

At the end of what has never been a silly season (what with climate change, high inflation and all the good stuff internationally…) what do we find out at the end of the holidays?: that schools can’t be returned to.

There are families up and down the country preparing their kids for the fact that what they already prepared for does not exist: the new school year in a familiar venue (or worse, their start at a new school). This is because the buildings young people are supposed to be educated in can no longer be considered safe. From a government that has ridiculed ‘safe spaces‘ at every turn, this seems like taking the piss.

The issue is, that many of our state schools have been constructed from a material called RAAC – ‘reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete’ – which is less structurally sound than common-or-garden concrete.  When is a bubbly thing as robust as a solid thing? It appears that the lightweight and cheaper nature of this material blinded developers to its issues in terms of long-term sustainability.  Schools are at risk of falling down, their rooves collapsing, their upper storeys crashing down.

And these architectural missteps may not seem as bad, if it weren’t for the general picture of where we are right now in the UK.  The issues around school buildings make a perfect metaphor for what Conservative government has meant for children.

During the pandemic, our government hardly prioritised children, and while Covid-19 highlighted the many inequalities affecting their educational, social and health needs, young people have been decidedly missing from recovery agendas. The government might reply that it has devoted funds to much-needed ‘catch-up’ schemes for the most disadvantaged pupils, but the infrastructure to deliver them is decidedly threadbare.  In a damning piece in yesterday’s FT, Jennifer Williams outlined how a school in Oldham had had to the return the money for this service,  as teachers were not coming to Oldham to run the classes, and the school bus couldn’t incorporate evening runs to classes elsewhere.  Families in this deprived catchment were often unable to afford the essentials of school life: stationery, uniform, even food.  The article charted how schools increasingly fulfil a welfare and citizens advice function, as well as an educational one. 

Since 2010, governments have slashed the social safety net and the public services which support communities.  Children have been virtually absent from the concerns of politicians who have concentrated on maintaining power while showing increasingly little interest in what to do with it.  The gems of the British state: the NHS, public art and culture, universal child benefit, decent social housing, have been run into the ground, abolished or sold.  Children are encouraged to aspire to be doctors (ha!) engineers, tech industry players – ideally by attaining a degree from Oxbridge – perish the thought that they may wish to learn a language or engage in critical thinking.  Despite the success of Oxford’s PPE degree in delivering Cabinet ministers, the government is strangely silent on the merits of humanities degrees, except when they are equated with ‘Mickey Mouse’ – that’s a character too friendly to grace the walls of a reception centre for child migrants.  Heaven forbid that children should be welcomed anywhere. 

Yesterday Penny Mordaunt suggested that a new National Service might provide the means for disengaged youth to reconnect with society.  The right-leaning think tank Onward proclaimed that this was a solution for ‘unmoored’ young people to become more mentally resilient and to feel increased national pride. Strangely absent from these claims, was any analysis of how youth got here – could growing mental ill-health and lowering of sights be anything to do with an economy loaded against the young, a housing market out of reach, student debt and stagnant wages?  I wonder who might be responsible for these things?  Conservatives seem to look in wonder at the landscape around them, seeing the mess as something outside of their purview.  Children and young people wade through the morass, and can see that the straws to clutch at are further apart then ever.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this government has no time for kids.

Hard lessons for early years

Childcare has risen up the political agenda, in part because the economic and workforce benefits of better childcare services are finally being properly considered, beyond the case for gender equality. It’s often said (e.g. here) that it’s significant that childcare has stopped being regarded simply a ‘women’s issue’. 

Recently I heard the economist, Paul Johnson, of the Institute for Fiscal Studies, suggest that childcare was mainly a focus for dual-earner, metropolitan families, and that many parents did not use formal childcare in the early years, or not much of it. He has argued (as in this piece) that it therefore should not be seen as central to the cost-of-living crisis.  While I agree with him that raising benefit levels is crucial for the poorest families, I’m less persuaded that low take-up of the 15 hours free childcare available to the least advantaged parents of 2-year-olds, is evidence of choice.  Rather, studies show that a combination of patchy provision in low-income areas, lack of information for the most disadvantaged parents, and lack of opportunities to work to use the 15 hours effectively, has shut parents (mainly mothers), out of the system as it is. With stagnating wages and rising nursery fees, women are reporting being priced out of the labour market. 

What would a better system look like? In an ideal world, the early years system would be coherent and functional throughout the country, and both women and men would have opportunities to be employees and carers when their children are small.  The early years workforce would be better-paid and better-qualified, and all children, regardless of  where they lived or what their parents did, would have access to early learning. But regrettably, we are a long way from this picture in the UK just now.

Early years expert, Peter Moss, has argued that it is verging on a waste of time for government ministers to go to Sweden to learn about their system, as it is light years away from what we have here.  The Swedish success story has been achieved through substantial investment, not on the cheap. Moss summarises: ‘Sweden’s early childhood system, by contrast [to England], is not a mess and is not about ‘childcare’. It is a universal and integrated system of early childhood education.’

Sweden enjoys a well-qualified early years workforce, who deliver pre-school education to all children. Here, we have a mish-mash of provision and entitlements, which is often failing to deliver either for  parents or for hard-pressed, undervalued staff.  And Sweden – like other Nordic countries – also has a well-developed, relatively well-paid system of parental leave for both parents. This means that in the first years, it is a lot easier for mothers to take up employment, and for men to be involved parents, without huge economic sacrifice. 

Elsewhere, early educators in Canada, assert that we need to ‘turn the narrative around: children are not in early childhood education to provide employment opportunities for educators and guardians’. Lest we forget, the main beneficiaries of quality early years provision are children themselves, encouraged to thrive by skilled practitioners. Or at least that’s how it should be.

The UK Labour party has been looking to Australia, where the recent election success of the Australian Labor party was put down, in part, to a promise to deliver better childcare.  The challenges in Australia will sound familiar to British policymakers, as 35% of Australians are believed to live in ‘childcare deserts’.  Provision is rated ‘really expensive’ for parents throughout the country.  The Australian PM, Anthony Albanese, has set up commissions to look into childcare, and the government has pledged to increase the subsidy available to parents using these services.  Interestingly, experts have pointed to a change in language, where government ministers have begun to talk more about child development and the long-term benefits of early education.

Another lesson from Australia, is that researchers have found that ‘activity tests’ are not working.  There, the amount of childcare subsidy a family receives, depends on the hours spent in employment by parents.  The activity tests have been shown to ‘lock out’ the families who could benefit most: low-income parents are less likely to use their entitlement, because of the restrictions on hours. This chimes with my thoughts about low take-up in the UK.  

In a speech about childcare today, Bridget Phillipson, the Shadow Education Secretary, committed to reform of the early years sector, suggesting a move away from the current free hours model.  She was light on specifics beyond the existing pledge to roll out breakfast clubs in primary schools. She emphasised looking forward to new options, more integrated into education, rather than looking back to Sure Start, the scheme established by Labour in the Nineties.  There was recognition of need for a better deal for early years staff – the devil will be in the detail.

Another factor in the equation regarding childcare is employers.  When will we reach a point where flexible working is widespread and no barrier to promotion? When will men and women find that it is normalised for both of them to take some form of extended leave in the early years of parenthood?  When will ‘women returners’ become just ‘returners’ viewed for their potential, rather than with a bit of suspicion as to why they want to be employed again after a period of absence?

The ‘childcare problem’, then, is not just about economics, but is also a complex social issue. All the relevant actors need to be on board to solve it.  It will take a courageous government to set the tone. Are we likely to have one in the near future? That’s a question beyond the early years’ curriculum.

The Tory leadership contest: an education

As you may have noticed, there is a leadership race underway in the Conservative party, which will soon yield a new Prime Minister.  After the defenestration of Boris Johnson, the candidates have been keen to demonstrate that they represent a fresh start, or are at least prepared to ‘move on’, from the chaos of their predecessor.

So far, there has been relatively little real policy content in the pitches to party and country – arguably, surprisingly little, given the depths of the challenges facing the next Prime Minister.  A massive economic crisis looms, with voters concerned about how to pay rapidly rising bills, there’s still a war on in Ukraine, and temperatures could reach 40 degrees in the UK for the first time, as climate change intensifies a heat dome over Europe.

But – pretty much like the candidates – I don’t want to talk about any of that.  And I’m not even going to begin to enter the race to the bottom on taxes.  Rather, I want to look at a sub-theme of the battle for the premiership, namely views expressed about the value of education.  For a number of runners appear to have a narrow idea of what sort of what sort of skills are valuable to individuals and society.  Kemi Badenoch asserted that she wanted to tackle the scourge of ‘pointless degrees’ and to reduce support for ‘low quality’ degrees.  Neither of these categories were further defined. She also declared that ‘some universities spend more time indoctrinating social attitudes instead of teaching lifelong skills or how to solve problems’.  Again, no concrete examples of these processes were given, but then, as Badenoch was keen to convey, she is an engineer by training.  Engineering students may spend less time on the principles of presenting and substantiating an argument using source material than students of more ‘pointless’ subjects.

This kind of thinking has form in Tory circles.  There was a recent Office for Students consultation on ‘poor quality courses’, with judging criteria based on metrics such as student drop-out rates, and outcomes such as entering graduate jobs or pursuing further study.  There is an emphasis on market ‘return’ on student fees.  However, courses less likely to meet these criteria include creative arts – funding performance-based course is not cheap, and initial salaries may not be high on graduation – and arts and humanities courses in newer universities, which often cater to predominantly local student bodies in less well-off areas.   Erstwhile leadership candidate, and former Education Secretary, Nadhim Zahawi, has criticised ‘Mickey Mouse degrees’ and advocated for more vocational apprenticeships for prospective students.  This rather seems to overlook the fact that recent governments (ahem) have hardly made further education a spending priority.  Furthermore, Badenoch has suggested that social work, nursing and policing do not necessarily have to be graduate professions, and that vocational routes to qualification should be more widespread.  Does that not mean lowering standards in key frontline professions? Or is the implication that public sector pay could be depressed further if entrants were not bearing the cost of full-time education?

Tom Tugendhat, underdog among the runners, has proposed an ‘Institute of Technology’ for every region and a new ‘Oxbridge of the North’ for vocational training. This suggests that technical and vocational pathways to work are to be priorities – especially for those unlikely to compete for entry to the original Oxbridge. The idea that arts and humanities subjects have little place in regional and economic revival, is rather undermined by the Department for Culture, Media and Sport’s own estimate that creative industries contributed around £112 billion to the UK economy in 2018.  Never mind their role in saving the nation from going completely mad in the lockdowns of 2020…

And what of the current frontrunners? According to this very useful spreadsheet, Penny Mordaunt has set out a range of ideas for early years education and childcare, but nothing for later education or skills.  That still puts her a little ahead of Rishi Sunak, who has no entries in the education section of the spreadsheet.

Sunak has contrasted his approach to the economy with ‘tell[ing] ourselves comforting fairy tales’ about how to tackle tax and spending decisions. In his speech he talked about ‘honesty and responsibility, not fairy tales’.  Like many others running, though, he was big on providing his own backstory, with a neat narrative arc leading to the present.  He briefly mentioned integrating technology into public services and keeping schools ‘strong’, but further details have remained elusive. 

It all brings to mind the story about Albert Einstein, Nobel-prizewinning scientific genius, who, when asked by a parent what her child should read to prepare for a career in science, replied ‘Fairy tales, and more fairy tales’.  Perhaps this should come as no surprise from the man who once quipped, ‘Understanding physics is child’s play compared to understanding child’s play’. Einstein was a lifelong advocate for multi-disciplinary education. Should the people who want to become Prime Minister listen to him? I think so.  But then, what do I know? My degree is in Politics.