Several times over the past 8 years I have tried hard to help Woodhead catch up. For a long time I did this in what I hoped would be the least threatening way – on a one-to-one basis of a lunch together, in correspondence which I never published, in conversation in car parks after conferences, and in sharing with him what I saw as critical pieces of research.

Woodhead is a good conversationalist, and an orator who quickly assesses his audience and then tells them what they want to hear. At this he is very skillful. Time and again I’ve wanted to say, “Will the real Chris Woodhead say what he really believes?”

At his request after a lunch we had together I once bought extra copies of John Bruer’s “Schools for Thought: the science of learning in the classroom”, and the very insightful book by two Canadians, Bereiter and Scardamalia: “Surpassing Ourselves: the study of expertise”, and sent them to him, as he promised he would read them. Months later, having heard nothing and wanting to get his reaction, I wrote and asked for their return. They came back apparently unopened, and without a letter of comment.

A year or so later I was most impressed by an American Quaker – Parker Palmer. Palmer’s thinking about the need for teachers to be thoughtful, authentic and good role models for their students as effective learners, is beautifully expressed in this widely acclaimed book, “The Courage to Teach”. I bought an extra copy to give to Woodhead as I knew we would be speaking at the same conference ten days later in the Lake District.

As Woodhead was leaving I gave him the book. He glanced at it – and in his usual style of not wanting to miss a quick jibe – said “What a silly title. You don’t need courage to teach”.

I found it hard to contain my anger and became almost tongue-tied. He smiled, rather patronizingly I thought, and said he would nevertheless read it. I never heard a word from him.

When my first book came out I gave him a copy. He wrote and thanked me and said he’d read it. When my second book came out his office wrote and asked for two copies. I never heard a word of comment back from him on either, so I can have no confidence that he really understood what the Initiative was saying.

In January 2001 he and I agreed to debate our beliefs about education before a group of Cheshire Heads. We were each to speak for 20 minutes setting out our positions, and then each was to have 10 minutes to question the other and then the audiences were to join in. I spoke first and set out my position. Woodhead scribbled down some comments on his note pad. I waited to hear how he’d describe his position. To my amazement he made no statement whatsoever about his own beliefs but used the whole 20 minutes in an attempt to demolish my position. There was no debate. The real Chris Woodhead still had not spoken.

And then I read his book. It’s well written in a punchy, rather racy sort of Readers’ Digest way. It’s moderately short, and the chapters are well split up. It’s certainly the stuff to make headlines. He understands his audience to be the honest, ordinary ‘commonsense’ person who is suspicious of all politicians, professors, experts and administrators, and who wants to believe that almost all teachers are useless – with the exception of those who teach their own children and who are largely ok. He seems to write as a journalist out to sell copies, not as a serious commentator weighing the evidence. This is a great shame because he certainly makes some good points about the apparent down-grading of the value of a university degree, or the fallacy of insisting that all children follow the same curriculum. He rightly criticizes the way the unions use their power.

However, the harsh dismissive and very one-sided criticism that he makes of absolutely everyone who does not share his position – I can’t call it beliefs because I still can’t understand what they are – is quite appalling. I hold absolutely no brief to speak for the rest of the educational Establishment with whom I have thought I was more often being cold-shouldered than accepted. This is a book in which the invective becomes an end in itself. Woodhead, in all of 208 pages, has still not shown what are the most effective ways of helping youngsters to develop ways of learning that they will subsequently be able to apply in novel and ever changing situations later in life. Without such an explanation one wonders just why he thinks we actually need schools!

There was a story circulating when I was a child of a proud mother standing on the pavement as the battalion in which her son had just enlisted marched past. All the soldiers, with the exception of her son, marched with perfect timing.

“Look,” shouted the proud but effectively blind mother. “My son’s the only one in step!”

Just as Field Marshall Montgomery was said to keep a photograph of the German General Rommel hanging in his battle caravan so that he could think himself into “understanding how my opponent will act”, so it is good for those desperate to provide better educated educational opportunities for young people to study this book very carefully indeed. Only when you understand how your best thoughts and expectations can be totally misconstrued will you be wise enough to outwit those who pedal a simplistic and largely vacuous set of solutions.

Chris, if you ever read this, I would commend to you the comment by one Josh Billings, an American writer in the late 19th century: “It’s not people’s ignorance you need to fear – it’s what they know that darned well ain’t true any longer that causes all the problems”.

Pages: 1 2

More articles by John Abbott