The Immeasurable Value of Education

Angus McPhail, Warden of Radley College, discusses the immeasurable aspects of education which do not get assessed by League Tables and Inspection Reports.

Imagination... perseverance... compassion... humility... determination... confidence... happiness... a love of sport, music, drama, art, adventure that will last a lifetime...spiritual strength...

What attributes and qualities do we want our sons and daughters to develop in their school years? Some parents choose a school from its position in a league table and even change their decision if a particular year sees a fall of a few places. They are wrong and I subscribe to Eric Anderson's adage that, '...the most important things in education are immeasurable.'

In one sense subscribing to such a view poses a real problem should one want to compare the qualities of different schools, a problem particularly faced by a parent seeking the right school for their son, or daughter, but the maxim is true. As Onora O'Neill highlighted in her Reith lectures of 2002, our current obsession with measurement and accountability has led us away from trust in our judgment. Many of the most profound insights are not based on fact, but on observation. These observations will inevitably involve judgments about character and ethos that may be far more informative than statistics, whose certainty is a chimera. There will always be an element of uncertainty about the performance of a school because the social, academic, sporting and cultural development of boys and girls can be patchy, uneven in tempo and at times very hard to assess. Bertrand Russell saw the value of philosophy as: '...to be sought largely in its very uncertainty... While diminishing our feeling of certainty as to what things are, it greatly increases our knowledge as to what they may be.'

The same can be said of education in general and of schools. The excitement of teaching boys and girls lies in what they may be as much as what they are and whilst the seeds of what they may be can be sown at school they certainly won't appear in any measurement requested by parents, inspectors or governments. The fruits will be borne later in life. Knowing exactly what is having a really beneficial impact on pupils can be difficult: the mystery of why progress suddenly accelerates at a particular time or why a particular teacher is more effective with some groups, or individuals will prompt hypotheses, but rarely convincing answers; at any one time the good school will be enjoying successes and frustrations or failures.

Writing 25 years ago, Shirley Williams recognized the problem of identifying a school's strengths when she wrote: 'Politicians shy away from what makes a good school because they prefer to explain things in terms of systems. It makes reform so much easier.' This has been particularly the case in the laudable desire to improve the welfare of children. The focus has fallen on defensive measures - anti-bullying policies, risk assessments, Criminal Records Bureau checks - because adherence is measurable, but in reality children do not feel safe, do not thrive, because of such measures. They thrive because of the interest and involvement of their teachers, the time they dedicate to listening to them, guiding and encouraging them.

Academically, where there has long been an obsession with measurement, the weaknesses of such an approach have been there for all to see. In 2002, tired of answering the criticisms of the league tables he created, John Clare wrote the following: '...schools can't agree on a measurement of value added that is statistically and educationally valid. The moment they do The Daily Telegraph will be the first to record the results (though not at the expense of raw scores) because they will give parents an insight... into how effective schools really are.'

Things have of course moved on and there are measurements of value added which answer the call of those schools who achieve excellent results given the raw ability of their intake. Having long been the victims they now can enjoy the plaudits whilst those schools with highly selective intakes - who cannot build much value if it is measured simply in terms of exam grades - seek consolation in the 'raw scores' to which Clare refers. 'Value added' offers little more of an insight into the question of what makes a good school than 'raw scores' do. The demands of measurement have led to ridiculous attempts to hide disappointing figures and brazen examples of selective statistics, but parents still struggle to know what they should really be looking for. Far better that parents look for the breadth of what is on offer.

'Delight in sense, in learning and in thought, Music and philosophy, curiosity, The tiltyard skill, the strategy of chess, Love in the garden, singing to the instrument, Were all things equally desirable.'

Good schools really reward - with adequate time as well as recognition - the range of interests T. S. Eliot describes in 'Murder in the Cathedral'. These are the things that will light up your children's lives in the years ahead and they must not be sacrificed on the altar of supposedly improved exam results. Pupils should not be allowed to give up these aspects of their education 'to focus on my work'; it does not work and it is short sighted and wrong. You may try to measure the breadth - numbers of teams, musical groups, pupils gaining D of E Gold Awards, trips abroad etc. - but the best guide is the spark and interest of pupils, teachers and alumni.

Good schools should provide diversion from the treadmill of exams and should value the non-examined subjects and activities as much as those that are put to the test. As Libby Purves wrote a couple of years ago: 'This pressured, transitional generation, more than any other, needs the joys of culture and philosophy and science and understanding, nature and adventure and a knowledge that the sky is wide and horizons illimitable and life a varied joy.' Good schools should be about broadening horizons, encouraging inquisitiveness. At last year's HMC conference Sir Eric Anderson spoke about the ethos of good schools which he said, grew from roots like these:

'...the urge of wanting to find out more; the discovery that some of the things worth doing require attention over days and months; that individuals matter and community matters; that confidence grows out of achievement, not out of self-promotion, or unearned praise...'

Any school able to develop such an ethos will be offering something immeasurable, but really valuable. The ethos will be nurtured in academic study, in sport, music, art, drama, social service and in communal worship and meditation. It is far removed from the 'no frills' approach offered by some companies because the 'frills' are actually the heart of the education. It involves a recognition of the diverse attributes and achievements of boys and girls and with luck it may produce the 'aristocracy of the sensitive' that Foster described thus: '...the aristocracy of the sensitive, the considerate and the plucky. They represent the true human condition. They are sensitive to others as well as for themselves, they are considerate without being fussy, their pluck is not swankiness, but the power to endure and they can take a joke.'

Angus McPhail is the Warden of Radley College.
This article first appeared in the Summer 2007 issue of Attain.