A Glossary of U.K. Education (Vol. 2)

Volume One of our handy glossary of commonly-used terms in U.K. education was such a success that our publishers have rushed out the second volume. We hope that you find this a useful tool in navigating the debates and discussion around education, both online and in real world situations.

assembly

/əˈsɛmbli/

noun

the action of gathering a group of children together in order to watch a short video of an athlete doing something inspiring to uplifting music.

Bjork, Robert A.

/bjɔːk/, ˈrɒbət ˈ/ 

noun

cognitive psychologist, famous for his work on learning, memory and forgetting, and for his hit single “It’s Oh So Quiet”, which spent 15 weeks in the U.K. singles chart in 1995; he was hoping you’d forgotten about that.

cake

/keɪk/ 

noun

main fuel source of teachers during the latter weeks of a term; as a child, cake is something that someone buys you on your birthday; as a teacher, cake is something that you have to buy for everyone in your department on your own birthday; how did that happen?

Chartered College of Teaching

/ˈtʃɑːtəd ˈkɒlɪdʒ ɒv ˈtiːtʃɪŋ/

noun

see General Teaching Council for England (GTC).

Dead Poet’s Society

/dɛd ˈpəʊɪtz səˈsʌɪɪti/

noun

elaborate teacher recruitment video from the late 1980s; data shows that the two-thirds of teachers who remain in the profession after five years only stay on in the hope that their pupils will one day stand on their desks and declare “O Captain! My Captain!” at them.

detention

/dɪˈtɛnʃ(ə)n/

noun

punishment given out to teachers whereby they have to give up their break time, lunchtime or after school to spend time with someone who has previously been rude to them or otherwise ignored their instructions.

enquiry learning

/ɪnˈkwʌɪri ˈləːnɪŋ/ 

noun

for a clear understanding of the way that enquiry learning works, see entry for inquiry learning.

GCSE results day

/ˈˈsˈɛsˈiː rɪˈzʌltz deɪ

noun

the second most exciting day in the school calendar, after stationery order delivery day.

growth mindset

/ɡrəʊθ ˈmʌɪn(d)sɛt/ 

noun

a powerful incantation used as a magic word; legend has it that, if SLT and the board of governors hold hands in a circle with their eyes closed and chant the words ‘growth mindset’ three times, when they open their eyes the DfE will have made further cuts to their school budget.

inquiry learning

/ɪnˈkwʌɪri ˈləːnɪŋ/ 

noun

for a clear understanding of the way that inquiry learning works, see entry for enquiry learning.

lunchtime duty

/ˈlʌn(t)ʃtʌɪm ˈdjuːti/

noun

(Oops, sorry, I totally forgot to do this one – Ed.)

mastery

/ˈmɑːst(ə)ri/ 

noun

a Rorschach inkblot, often associated with a curriculum, which can be interpreted to mean absolutely anything a person sees in it when they look at it.

mindset

/ˈmʌɪn(d)sɛt/ 

noun

the mental attitude or disposition that predetermines a person’s responses to and interpretations of a situation; according to psychologists, there are three types: fixed and growth (Dweck), and dirty (Freud).

red pen

/rɛd pɛn/

noun

principle weapon of torture, used by teachers who don’t take children’s feelings into account (cf. the marking pen chart below, showing the range colours preferable to use when marking); red pen is also famously mentioned in the old adage of teacher lore that goes, “Red pen at night: normal. Red pen in the morning: I fell asleep doing my marking last night.”

Spectrum of colours preferable to use when marking children’s work, in order to not cause unnecessary anxiety. ‘Sensitive White’ is a popular choice.

retention deficit disorder (RDD)

/rɪˈtɛnʃ(ə)n/

noun

an employment disorder that can be found in the U.K. education sector; it is characterised by a person openly lamenting teacher turnover whilst they are simultaneously creating the conditions that cause teachers to leave their jobs, e.g., “Justine Greening spoke earnestly about the ‘challenges on recruitment and retention, but also on workload’, just before she announced a funding formula that will see 98% of state schools’ funding cut.”

self-assessment

/sɛlf əˈsɛsmənt/

noun

process in which children show that they have had enough of the topic being studied; this is sometimes done by the pupil displaying an emoticon of a smiley face, or through the use of traffic light colours, but is more commonly achieved by the children putting their thumbs up, as pioneered by Scottish pupil James Krankie in the late 1970s (see image below); however, it should be noted that Krankie is still at school some 40 years later, which may be an indication that this method is a flawed way of gauging a pupil’s learning.

James Krankie, eternal schoolboy and pioneer of the thumbs up method of self-assessment

 

 

 

A Glossary of U.K. Education (Vol. 1)

Debates around education on social media can sometimes be hard to follow if you aren’t well versed in the jargon of education in the U.K. With that in mind, we’ve produced this handy glossary of commonly-used terms.

academisation

/əˈkadəmʌɪˈzeɪʃ(ə)n/

noun

1. the process in which a school undertakes a Faustian pact resulting in the handing over of its pupil data to Amazon, the selling of the school fields to Starbucks, and eternal damnation for all staff in exchange for better SATs/GCSE results.

or

2. the process in which a school merely alters a word on their signage and stationery.

children

/ˈtʃɪldrən/

noun

small human beings cared about by progressives and hated by traditionalists.

free school

/friː ˌskuːl/

noun

evil, bloodsucking entity, set up to appease the greed of its vengeful ruler by educating the children of the local community.

Gove, Michael

/ɡəʊv ˌˈmkəl/

noun

pantomime villain, originally from Old English folklore where he is often depicted as having the body of a Tory MP and the head of an agitated baby; in many stories in which he features, Gove is vilified by the adults of the village for trying to give their children more knowledge.

Grüppwerk

/ɡruːpˈvəːk/

noun

Kraftwerk tribute band marked by their performance style in which one of the members arranges all of the songs, plays all of the instruments and prepares all of the lighting, sound and stagecraft, whilst the rest of the band take the opportunity to muck about and do nothing.

learning styles

/ˈləːnɪŋ ˌstʌɪlz/

noun

antimicrobial resistent organism that continues to thrive despite numerous attempts to medicate against it.

literacy

/ˈlɪt(ə)rəsi/

noun

word used as part of a compound noun to give an air of legitimacy to an otherwise woolly term, e.g., digital literacyvisual literacyliteracy literacy.

neo-

/niːə(ʊ)/

prefix

versatile combining form that can be adjoined to the beginning of any noun in order to make that thing sound more sinister than it actually is.

neo-trad

/niːə(ʊ)ˈtrad/

prefix

traditionalist, only more sinister. Synonyms: right-wingTory, Nazi, Sith Lord, Agent of Hydra.

Ofsted

/ɒfstɛd/

noun

capricious inspectorate, prone to systematically dishing out unfair judgements. Unless that judgement is ‘Good’ or ‘Outstanding’, in which case it is entirely accurate and should be emblazoned across letterheads and banners. 

pedagogy

/ˈpɛdəɡɒdʒi/

noun

from the Greek παιδός, (paidos), “teachy”, and ἄγω (ágō), “teaching”: literally, “teachy teaching”.

progressive

/prəˈɡrɛsɪv/

noun

1. a teacher committed to the values of progressivism.

or

2. a teacher just out of initial teacher training.

Robinson, Sir Ken

/ˈrɒbɪns(ə)n ˌˈsəː ˈkɛn/

noun

chivalrous knight of YouTubian legend; the folk tales tell of how Sir Ken is bestowed with a golden tongue by TED the Enchanter, and of how he uses this tongue to defeat the Great Sages of Rote Wisdom by invoking the Spirits of Dance.

rote learning

/rəʊt ˌˈləːnɪŋ/

noun

1. that which Sir Ken Robinson opposes, instead suggesting more dance in the curriculum.

2. the most common and effective way to learn how to dance.

Shift Happens

/ʃɪft ˈhap(ə)nz/

noun

bullshit.

traditionalism

/trəˈdɪʃ(ə)nəlɪz(ə)m/

noun

a diabolical cult dedicated the denigration of fun, posters, role play and group work; based on ideology (cf. progressivism, which is ideology-free and entirely based on pragmatism and principles); followers of traditionalism dislike children and can be mostly found in schools.

troll

/trɒl,trəʊl/

verb

to disagree with a view on education that one holds; this is a transitive verb which can only be done unto the first person me and not unto second or third person pronouns such as him, her or you – “he trolled me” is correct usage, whereas “I trolled her/you” is incorrect.

noun

someone who disagrees with your view on education.

 

 

5 useful online resources for English teachers

There are a number of resources I return to again and again online, in order to either find useful texts for pupils to read, or to deepen my contextual knowledge of texts. Here are five sites I think are really helpful.

JSTOR Understanding Shakespeare 

This is a brilliant resource that connects digital texts from the Folger Shakespeare Library with articles on the JSTOR digital library. As the strapline tells us: “Pick a play. Click a line. Instantly see articles on JSTOR that reference the line.” 

Below is a screenshot that shows you how it works. I’ve chosen the line “‘Tis an unweeded garden / That grows to seed.” from Hamlet’s first soliloquy (Act 1, Scene 2). You can see that there are 53 references to this line in JSTOR. It lists them on the right of the screen, and by hovering over each one, you can see the page of the article on which it is referenced.
In the referenced page on the example above, you can see how the line can be seen as part of a tradition of similar references to husbandry as a metaphor for kingliness and national security across a number of Shakespeare’s plays. Illuminating, right?

The British Library Articles 

I love these. Here you can browse some really interesting articles on Shakespeare and the Renaissance, Romantics and Victorians, and Twentieth Century literature. All of the articles are linked to items in the British Library’s collection (mainly original manuscripts), with embedded slideshows throughout the articles exploring these items. There’s some really useful contextual stuff here.

CommonLit

This is an American website containing “a free collection of fiction and nonfiction for 5th-12th grade classrooms”. It is a wonderful digital resource.

You can search texts based on the grade they are aimed at (just add 1 to get the UK equivalent age: 6th grade is the same as Year 7 in the UK), or by the text’s Lexile range. Or – and this is where it is really useful – you can search it based on theme, genre (looking for speeches or short stories?), or by a short list of books that the texts link to (for example, searching for texts linked to Animal Farm returns some nonfiction articles on Stalin and the Russian Revolution, among other things). You can also search for texts based on linguistic and rhetorical devices, so if you are looking for examples of hyperbole or dramatic irony, the search will return texts that contain these.

What’s more, each text comes with a series of questions to help comprehension. And you can download each text as a PDF (which includes these questions).

BBC History – British History

With some articles, some iWonder pages and some BBC archive videos, this is a really useful source of contextual information for literature texts. With pages on the Tudors, the Victorians and some key moments of the Jacobean period (to name but a few useful touchstones for English teachers), there are some great resources here.

English Heritage – Story of England

In a similar style to the BBC History site, English Heritage’s simple timelines and overviews of the key periods in English history are a valuable resource. Not only is this organised by period, you can also explore it by themes such as Power & Politics, Religion, Daily Life, and Arts & Invention. Have a look and see what you think.

Teachers: @TesResources has a problem and they want you to work harder to deal with it

TES Resources has a problem. Its resource sharing platform is riddled with copyright infringements. What are they going to do about it? Well, they are going to ask you to add to the already burgeoning workload of hardworking teachers and get you to police it. As if you don’t already have enough to do.

TES Resources is a great platform. It allows teachers to share resources freely with hundreds of colleagues up and down the country. It truly exemplifies the collegial spirit of teaching. Well, it did.

It did until July 2014, when they announced that teachers would be able to start selling the resources they were already sharing for free. They sold this move as ‘teacher empowerment’. Weirdly, this announcement didn’t mention the cut that they were taking from these transactions.

Now, I have been very outspoken about the selling of resources on social media in recent times, but this post isn’t about my moral objections to teachers selling resources to one another.

This week, it was brought to my attention that a resource that I shared freely on this blog had actually been copied and was being sold on TES Resources for £3 a pop. It had been on the website for nearly 2 years and had received a number of downloads.

I should point out that the aim of this post isn’t to vilify the individuals concerned in this practice. Not because the practice isn’t reprehensible, but rather that, in the spirit of charity, I am happy to concede that some people may do this in complete ignorance that they have taken this idea from someone or that there is a victim of their actions. People make mistakes, and if they show contrition for those mistakes, I’m happy to move on.

In the case of my resource, TES were straight on the case once I’d brought it to their attention and are investigating as we speak. In the first instance they have taken down the resource. I wait with interest to see if there is any attempt to remunerate the injured party. After all, someone has made money from something I chose to give freely. (Should such remuneration arrive, I have earmarked my local paediatric oncology ward to receive the funds – it is a charity that is very close to my tutor group and me, for reasons which I shan’t go into here.)

However, like the mythological hydra, as soon as TES had sliced off this head, another one grew back in its place. It was brought to my attention the next evening that another of my resources that I’ve shared freely was on sale for £4 on the site.

And I am not the only one, large numbers of people have offered me evidence that the TES platform is riddled with people selling others’ resources.

Here are a few examples that came shortly after I made a request on Twitter last night. Important to note that these are just the ones who were up, saw my tweet and responded. I’m sure this is just the tip of the iceberg:

https://twitter.com/Ms_Kmp/status/871121204333228032

https://twitter.com/MrsSunder/status/871004104121831424

Not only that, as the last tweet suggests, this practice is driving people away from using the platform to share resources freely:

https://twitter.com/chrisscrivens1/status/870975051914510336

https://twitter.com/JennyCameron/status/870966853979561985

This might suggest that more sold resources on TES = fewer free ones.

And there are plenty more responses where all these came from. I’m sure you get the picture.

So what are TES Resources going to do about it. Actually, it’s more what they expect you to do about it. They want you – hardworking teachers, already overburdened with a burgeoning workload – they want you to police the site for them.

That’s right. Rather than come up with a way to police this themselves, they are asking us to identify stolen content. Imagine if the police said they wouldn’t deal with antisocial behaviour in your neighbourhood unless you went out and brought the assailants into the police station yourself?

Quite how they want busy teachers to do this is beyond me. Do they want us to do a regular search weekly? Monthly? And what should we search for? I produce lots of resources every month – are we supposed to search for everything we’ve ever produced and shared? Do they not get that we are very busy? Have they not read the pages of their own publication, drowning in articles on workload? Why do they think people use the site for resources in the first place? To save time. Now they want to us to use that time to work for them in managing their site, for free.

Nope. This is on you, TES. You can’t pass this off onto already overworked teachers.

Was this a problem before TES introduced selling? Well, yes, I’m sure people uploaded resources that weren’t their own. But the difference is they weren’t profiting. I share my resources freely, so someone else uploading it means that it will still be shared freely. Okay, so the lack of credit may irk, but that can be easily addressed.

What would I do if I were the TES? I’d embrace the collegial nature of the profession and of sharing freely and leave the cynical hawking of resources to other sites. But whatever they do, the responsibility is theirs to kill off this heinous practice on their site. Over to you, TES.

You aren’t a brand; you’re a teacher

“The best way to build a brand is to take a three-foot length of malleable iron and get one end red-hot. Then, apply it vigorously to the buttocks of the instructor who gave you this question. You want a nice, meaty sizzle.”

This was veteran Washington Post columnist Gene Weingarten’s public response to the question, “How have you built your personal brand over the years?”, as asked by a journalism graduate from Northwestern University.

It is similar to how I feel when I hear people talk about teachers as brands. Only yesterday, I witnessed advice from a high profile headteacher for teachers and leaders to “work on your personal brand” if you want to get ahead. The insistence that we must think about our brand rather than say, what we are teaching (or what we are leading on), is not just a distraction: it’s irresponsible.

It’s easy to read the rest of Weingarten’s response to the student and imagine he’s talking about education. I’ve replaced the words ‘journalism’ and ‘writing’ with [teaching] here:

“You used the expression ‘built your personal brand.’

I want us to let that expression marinate in its own foulness for a moment, like a turd in a puddle of pee, as we contemplate its meaning and the devastating weight of its implications. This is a term born of the new approach to [teaching], a soulless, marketing approach that goes hand in hand with the modern tendency to denigrate [teaching] by calling it “content,” as though everything is mere filler — fluff and stuffing in the decorative throw pillows of what passes for news. It is symptomatic of a general degradation of [teaching] that rewards ubiquity, not talent…”

I am certain that people who are able to make careers out of teaching do so because of the talent they have. Why take a “soulless, marketing” approach to that career by focusing on themselves as a brand?

Weingarten says that the commodification of journalists as brands means that writers “used to give readers what we thought they needed. Now, in desperation, we give readers what we think they want.”

Is this the implication of teachers and leaders becoming brands? Does it imply no longer giving pupils (and other teachers) what we think they need and instead giving them what we think they want?

The problem with foregrounding branding is that it backgrounds the important things about teaching and leading. The things that actually count. Continuing on the subject of writing, Weingarten continues:

“Branding – the whole notion gets it backwards, as though the purpose of writing is self-aggrandizement and self-promotion. That’s what riles me about that whole idea. We want to tell truth, because we want to entertain, because we want to disclose things that need to be disclosed, because we want to hold government to a high standard, all of those reasons are good. Somewhere around reason 6,407 is where brand promotion should be.”

I feel exactly the same about teaching: we want to teach because we want to make kids cleverer, because we want them to go out and connect with and understand the world, because we want them to take part in life and join the “conversation of mankind“, because we want them to create the future. All of those reasons are good. And, likewise, somewhere around reason 6,407 is where brand promotion should be for teachers.

Put simply:

“Note the order. First came the work.

Now, the first goal seems to be self-promotion — the fame part, the ‘brand.'”

Teachers and leaders should concentrate on their craft, on what they are achieving, rather than answering the questions “how do people see you?” and “how do you want to be seen?” – questions which came from the advice mentioned at the beginning of this blog. Answering those questions and concentrating on ‘your brand’ will most likely lead to superficiality and, in turn, most likely more work for the teachers around you. So listen to Weingarten. Don’t let teaching go this way too:

“We are slowly redefining our craft so it is no longer a calling but a commodity. From this execrable marketing trend arises the term: ‘branding.'”

A tour of Stock Photos Academy

We are delighted to welcome you to Stock Photos Academy, a brilliant new free school located in the heart of the country.

We are proud of our focus on learning and on nurturing the next generation.

We hope you enjoy having a look around our school, which we think is a very special place.


We’ll start the tour in the sixth form, where we stream the students depending on how photogenic they are. This is the top set in Maths. Here, Maths teacher Mr. Smith is making his pi/pie joke. The sixth formers bloody love that joke.


Whilst the sixth form offers traditional subjects, we are also able to offer special courses too to get those valuable UCAS points. Here, our pupils are taking a short course in, erm, Spectacles Studies.

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As you can see here, we have invested heavily in technology and have whole class sets of tablets. Unfortunately, we only have one charger though.

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Our teachers bloody love chalk. Just the thought of using it makes them excited. You should see how satisfied they look when they get to use it.

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See?

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From Year 7 to the sixth form, our teachers only ever ask really easy questions that everyone can answer.


Here’s sixth former Stephen from earlier. He’s still thinking about Mr. Smith’s pi/pie joke.

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If anyone knows where the whiteboard rubber is from the Maths room, please let us know?

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Our canteen dinners are delicious! The plain, unaccompanied pasta is always the most popular choice amongst our pupils which tells you everything you need to know about how great our chefs are.

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Mrs. Sumner is very happy. She’s very happy because she teaches at Stock Photos Academy. She’s also very happy because she loves her subject. But mostly she’s very happy because her Year 10 class are away on work experience.




We really need to get some blinds in our classrooms. There’s more lens flare than a J.J. Abrams film here.


This is the, er… no, sorry, I’ve no idea what’s going on here… Can someone go and see if Mr Baxter is okay? I think he might be having another breakdown.

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Here’s Mr. Cartwright working out the predicted 9-1 grades for our Year 11s preparing to sit the new GCSEs. As you can see, his concentration has reached meditative levels.

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If there’s one thing our teachers do really well, it’s standing at the back of the class with their arms folded, ignoring the children. Outstanding!

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We knew that the recruitment crisis would mean taking on some unqualified teachers in shortage areas. We didn’t realise we’d be this desperate though. We have since sacked the netball coach after he promised to bring stability to the team, and they just got worse. The Chemistry teacher asked the pupils to decide if they should remain in the classroom or exit. They chose to exit and he buggered off to let someone else clear up the ensuing mess. The Food Tech teacher is very unpopular but we’re finding it hard to get rid of him. And as for the new lower school Teaching Assistant… she’s terrible, but we’re going to have to keep her as the alternatives seem to be even worse.


Oh, and there’s Mr. Smith again, thinking about his pi/pie joke.

The 5 worst education arguments by graphics

Below are the graphics and images that we see trotted out time and again to support various arguments in education. And all of those arguments, if based on these graphics as evidence, are most likely bad arguments. I’m not the first to point out how these have been debunked, and I’m sure I won’t be the last.

1. This cartoon as an argument against an academic curriculum:5232012052424iwsmt

In an age where almost everyone in education is against the looming government policy of expanding the grammar school programme, there exists a cognitive dissonance whereby many of the same anti-selection advocates also embrace the idea that pupils should be assessed differently/be given a vocational education up to the age of 16 because ‘not every child is academic’. Michael Fordham skewers the argument for introducing a vocational education earlier far better than I can here, but suffice to say, this seems like just another form of academic selection to me. One of the other troubling things about this image is that it equates children with different classes of animal. I think that children have more in common with each other than they do differences, and certainly not differences of such extremes represented by this image. Of course, there will always be a minority of pupils who do have more extreme physical or educational needs, and we should meet those needs, but this doesn’t involve changing the approach to education for the majority of pupils and holding these pupils to different standards by shutting them off from an education they might later wish they’d had the opportunity to acquire.

And if you see the related quotation, ‘Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.’ attributed to Albert Einstein, you might want to point out that they are misattributing it.

A good counter for this argument is – and this is something Einstein did actually say – a speech given to the State University of New York in 1931, ‘On Education’:

“I want to oppose the idea that the school has to teach directly that special knowledge and those accomplishments which one has to use later directly in life. The demands of life are much too manifold to let such a specialized training in school appear possible […] The school should always have as its aim that the young man leave it as a harmonious personality, not as a specialist. This in my opinion is true in a certain sense even for technical schools, whose students will devote themselves to a quite definite profession. The development of general ability for independent thinking and judgement should always be placed foremost, not the acquisition of special knowledge. If a person masters the fundamentals of his subject and has learned to think and work independently, he will surely find his way and besides will better be able to adapt himself to progress and changes than the person whose training principally consists in the acquiring the detailed knowledge.”

Oh, and all this is compounded by the fact that, if it weren’t for fish getting out of the sea and climbing trees, we probably wouldn’t have evolved to be here now, arguing about a silly cartoon. Good job fish! A* in that exam!

2. This graphic as an argument against teaching systematic synthetic phonics:blog

In fact, this is a good argument for teaching phonics. It shows that there are clear correspondences between graphemes and phonemes and it highlights that there are rules for these correspondences – rules which the graphic ignores. One of the rules, for example, is that gh is never pronounced ‘f’ at the beginning of a word. Likewise, we’d never pronounce the grapheme ti as ‘sh’ at the end of a word. So if you see someone using this as an argument that English isn’t a language that can be taught through phonics, tell them that it proves just the opposite. You just have to know the rules.

(And if they attribute the ghoti/fish idea to George Bernard Shaw, you can tell them that they are doubly wrong.)

3. This graphic as an argument against direct instruction:2882821_orig

Pyramids are like catnip to teachers. Present anything in a pyramid and we are sold. If you don’t believe me, put a Toblerone and a bar of Dairy Milk in the staffroom on Monday and see which gets finished first. This particular pyramid – often referred to as Dale’s cone – is made even more enticing as it has lovely numbers and abstract concepts spewed all over it. And it often has a nice citation of its source at the bottom: National Training Laboratories. Mmmm, laboratories. It’s all just so… sciencey. But it really isn’t.

Before I get on to provenance, the first thing one should notice is the numbers. Such perfectly rounded numbers going up in such neat increments. When was the last time you saw some research produce numbers like this?

Yes, Dale’s cone is pretty much made up. It began life as a simple idea from the American educator Edgar Dale in 1946, as an intuitive model of how different media effect us. This original model didn’t include any numbers, and Dale himself even warned people not to take the cone too seriously.

The numbers were later added by an employee of the Mobil oil company, in a (non-academic) article he had written.

And as for the National Training Laboratories? Well, when they were asked about its provenance, the reply came back that “we no any longer have – nor can we find – the original research that supports the numbers.” Harumph.

Don’t listen to anyone using this as evidence for anything. Well, anything other than evidence for how much we all love pyramids. And even then, I’d always go with a tray piled high with Ferrero Rocher instead.

4. This comparison as an argument for education reform:

This is often used to point out that the structures and rules of schools are wrong. The problem is that all institutions have structures and rules. Hospitals have dress codes and, the last time I was in one, I was glad the doctors didn’t defer any decision making to me. I trusted them with my health. And I was glad of the silence and order too. I was glad that they had set times for visiting hours and people didn’t wander in and out as they pleased. You know, like a prison.

You see, we could easily draw attention to similarities between all sorts of institutions based on these structures and rules. If you worked at the Magic Kingdom in Disney World, you’d find much of those lists above structuring the way the place is run. Are we suggesting there should be reform there? Unless you want chaos in the park, a lack of safety on the rides and the guy in the Mickey Mouse suit turning up to work drunk, then you are going to need those rules and structures strictly adhered to. Is Magic Kingdom like a prison? No. And neither are schools. Schools have many other things that prisons don’t have, such as gates that kids can walk out of once their relatively short day stuffed full of learning and wonder is over.

This is a daft argument and is not the basis for school reform. I’m happy to listen to arguments for school reform, but this isn’t it. This is an argument that the Texas sharpshooter fallacy is alive and well.

5. Contextless EEG images of brain activity to claim positive effects of an intervention or activity:

I don’t know much about neuroscience, and I’d never claim to. The thing is, neither do neuroscientists. Of course, they actually know staggering amounts about the brain, but what I really mean is that neuroscience is such a developing science that we (them, not me) are only just beginning to understand about the brain.

Unless these sorts of images above are being used by a neuroscientist, I’d be extremely skeptical of what that person is saying with them. As suggested on the excellent Neurobollocks blog here, these sorts of images need more than just a picture of two brains with different colours on them. EEGs can measure lots of different types of brain activity and unless they tell you what it is measuring, the image is pretty useless. What’s more, you’ll also need to know what the colours represent to understand what it is suggesting. I think these images largely play on our instinct that ‘more red is good’, whether it is or not. This is not to say that the original EEG didn’t have meaning. But if it is presented without this important information, that meaning is lost.

These sorts of images are mainly used to tell us that something (the thing someone is ‘selling’ us) makes our synapses ‘fire’. The problem here is that everything causes synaptic activity. Your synapses are firing reading this. But that doesn’t stop even top academics misunderstanding or misusing such images.

I’d steer clear of laypeople using these sorts of images to present an argument. Or at the very least, ask them a couple of questions. Ask them exactly what the images are representing: what particular brain activity is being measured and what the colours represent. And for further help, you could draw it to the attention of public skeptics of pseudo-neuroscience such as @neurobollocks.

By the way, the brain on the right in those images is actually an EEG of your brain when you read my blogs. I took the image through your webcam just now. Honest. Why would I lie to you?

Gibberish sprinkled with question marks: in nonsense is strength

Early on in Kurt Vonnegut’s 1973 novel Breakfast of Champions, the narration turns to the setting of the story: the United States of America. Vonnegut transcribes the first verse of the national anthem and concludes of America:

“There were one quadrillion nations in the Universe, but [America] was the only one with a national anthem which was gibberish sprinkled with question marks.”

Vonnegut goes on to say (of the national anthem as well as various other symbols of the country):

“Not even the President of the United States knew what that was all about. It was as though the country were saying to its citizens, ‘In nonsense is strength.‘”

In nonsense is strength. It’s a motto that can be applied to some of the casual commentaries on education that spring up every now and again in the national press. By casual commentaries, I mean those statements of address on the state (or future) of education from those outside of the education sector. Such commentaries are often from writers who have a weekly column to fill, but are sometimes from business leaders or entrepreneurs who have chosen to enlighten us with their unevidenced assumptions (see: TED talks).

One such example of the former is George Monbiot’s recent article in the Guardian, ‘In the age of robots, schools are teaching our children to be redundant’, which opens with this rhetorical flush:

“In the future, if you want a job, you must be as unlike a machine as possible: creative, critical and socially skilled. So why are children being taught to behave like machines?

Children learn best when teaching aligns with their natural exuberance, energy and curiosity. So why are they dragooned into rows and made to sit still while they are stuffed with facts?

We succeed in adulthood through collaboration. So why is collaboration in tests and exams called cheating?

Governments claim to want to reduce the number of children being excluded from school. So why are their curriculums and tests so narrow that they alienate any child whose mind does not work in a particular way?”

To borrow from Vonnegut, this is “gibberish sprinkled with question marks”. People have been making claims that jobs in the future are going to be so radically different to today for decades. If we’d have listened to the futurists of 1900, we’d have stopped training people to cut and style hair as, according to those futurists, hairdressers wouldn’t be needed by the year 2000:

Indeed, Monbiot is adding himself to the list of futurists claiming that the 21st century job is somehow peculiar to jobs of the past and present in needing “creative, critical and socially skilled” people. Even when I worked in fast food restaurants, I worked with people who needed and used those skills. (They also needed to be literate and numerate, despite what many people might think.) Quite why Monbiot thinks being creative, critical and socially skilled belongs exclusively to the future is beyond me.

Monbiot goes on to make other claims which simply don’t stand up under scrutiny, repeating the same old unsubstantiated assertions that commentators have been throwing out since the Romantic period: allusion to factory models, teachers ‘stuffing’ kids with facts, children learn in different ways, etc. These complaints are all answered with the same ideas that have echoed through time: let kids choose what they should learn, children’s brains are different so they shouldn’t have to learn the same things as each other, and that old classic: why can’t they just Google it?

Today, Caitlin Moran gave us her own cover version of this old standard in a Times column titled, ‘Why I should run our schools’ (£). For Moran, “jobs of the future require flexibility and self-motivation”. Again, how does that differ from jobs today? She iterates “two facts: (1) the 21st century job market requires basically nothing of what is taught in schools, and (2) everyone has a smartphone.” Of course, (1) is nonsense and (2) is another claim that we can just Google it. Monbiot and Moran both overlook the evidence that, as E.D. Hirsch says in summarising cognitive psychologist George Miller’s research, “to be able to use [Google] information – to absorb it, to add to our knowledge – we must already possess a storehouse of knowledge.” Daisy Christodoulou explains in detail why just you can’t just Google it, here.

Monbiot and Moran are both hugely intelligent people (I’ve enjoyed much of their writing on a myriad of topics), but they fall into the same trap as many amateur commentators on education in repeating the same old “gibberish sprinkled with question marks”, gibberish that appeals to and seduces casual observers of education. They certainly aren’t the first to do so, and they definitely won’t be the last. Because in nonsense is strength.

Assessment Objectives: An Ofqual concern for Ofqual people; there is nothing for you here!

I’d turned over on my ankle and it had already ballooned up by the time I’d reached the doctor’s office. After a bit of prodding and nodding, he spoke. “Yes, looks nasty. Bit swollen. But it’ll be pretty straightforward to make you feel better.”

“Great. Give it to me. Er, please.” I replied.

“As I say, it’s straightforward. You need to stop your cells from producing prostaglandins.”

“Huh?”

“Prostaglandins. They are a group of lipids. When your cells are damaged they release them. You need to stop your cells from producing these prostaglandins.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve still no…”

“Listen, Mr Theo, you want to feel better don’t you?”

“Yes, I…”

“Well then, you need to stop producing prostaglandins. That’s why you are in pain. The nerve endings are picking up on them and transmitting the pain to your brain. You stop them, you stop the pain.”

“Right, so… how do I…”

“Well, to stop these prostaglandins, you just need to, er…”

The doctor paused, looking around him as if he’d lost something.

“Quick, this is really hurting. Please.”

“As I was saying, you just need to…” A look of realisation came over the doctor’s face and he immediately spun around to face his desk. He opened his drawer, pulled out a notepad and started scribbling away. After he’d scratched a few hieroglyphs on the page, he ripped it off the notepad and handed it over to me. “…take two of these every four hours, no more than three times in a 24 hour period. That should sort you out until the swelling goes down.”

I took the sheet of paper and read it. “But this just says ‘Ibuprofen’? Is that it? You could have just told me this straight away. I have some Ibuprofen in my pocket. What was all the stuff about pronto… procti…”

“Prostaglandins. Yes, it’s important that you know the objective of the treatment.”


Of course, it didn’t go like that at all. The doctor just told me that it was nothing serious, just a little tissue damage, and that I should go home and take some painkillers. He said that Ibuprofen would take away the pain until the injury settles down. I didn’t need to know the stuff about prostaglandins. I just needed to know specifically what to do to make me feel better.

This is how I feel when I see resources that explicitly discuss Assessment Objectives with pupils. I have no idea why pupils need to know about Assessment Objectives. They aren’t meant for pupils. Heck, they are barely of use to teachers.

Assessment Objectives (AOs) are produced by Ofqual so that exam boards can be held to account when putting together their qualifications. They are just an accountability tool for exam boards:

“Assessment objectives are part of the assessment arrangements for these qualifications. We adopt the assessment objectives set out in the attached document into our regulatory framework through the subject-specific conditions that exam boards must comply with when designing their specifications.” (Ofqual, 2014)

Because they are an overview of the conditions that exam boards need to comply with, they are vague: they mean very little as they are and it is up to exam boards to interpret them and use these interpretations to determine more distinct requirements for pupils.

Take a look at the AOs for the new English Language and English Literature GCSEs:

Current Assessment Objectives for GCSE English Language (Published by DfE, 2013)
Current Assessment Objectives for GCSE English Literature (Published by DfE, 2013)

As you can see, these don’t tell pupils anything they need to know other than a vague catch-all concepts: ‘select and synthesise evidence from different texts’ is such an imprecise phrase that one could successfully meet this ‘objective’ as it is written here with either one sentence or a ten-page essay.

To know what success would look like under each of the AOs, one might find it more useful to look at the mark schemes written by the exam boards. Level descriptors are exam boards’ interpretations of the assessment objectives, and are at least produced to detail what constitutes success in pupils’ writing.

Yet even these exam boards’ interpretations of the AOs into level descriptors are problematic. As Daisy Christodoulou has written in blogs and in her must-read book on assessment, even descriptors are inaccurate. She will tell us that they are far from ‘precise and detailed’:

So if the performance descriptors are imprecise, what hope is there for Assessment Objectives? Pupils have enough things to remember in preparing for their exams without having to contend with vague statements such as these. Much better to spend time teaching pupils how to respond rather than listing for them Ofqual’s requirements for exam boards.

Assessment Objectives are an Ofqual concern for Ofqual people*. There is nothing for pupils here.

*Ofqual, exam boards, examiners.

I'm just a teacher, standing in front of a class, asking them to be quiet and listen.

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