What’s really going on in the national education standards “debate”

January 29, 2010

Following my article a couple of days ago, I’m still struggling to figure out what’s going on in Education Minister Anne Tolley’s (or the government’s) mind. But I think I’m starting to see how this confrontation between the education sector and Tolley/Key took root and where it’s going.

As I wrote on Wednesday, I simply cannot reconcile the certainty with which Tolley speaks about the “one in five children that we know are failing” in numeracy and literacy, with her passionate insistence that we set up this potentially damaging and unproven system of standards in order to provide evidence that these children are failing.

On this morning’s radio I heard all this repeated by the School Trustees Association representative – that we know there are kids failing and how many, we know roughly who they are and what areas they come from, and we know a lot about their ethnicity.

What we don’t know, or have yet to articulate, is what we’ll do about the results when they come in. If we know about these failures – who they are and where they’re taught – then why are we not doing something about it now, such as strengthening teacher resources and training teachers to do a better job? Why are we throwing millions of precious dollars at a testing regime to tell us what we (or at least Tolley) already know? How will knowing that make for any improvements that we cannot implement already?

Yes, the logic has been escaping me. So I’ve been thinking back to how this came about, and how the policy drivers have morphed.

There are two possibilities, I believe. The first is that the government, and Tolley in particular, are stupid and pig-headed, determined to show who’s boss at all costs. Pig-headed? Certainly, no question – but what government isn’t on key policies. Stupid? I’m not prepared to call these seemingly intelligent leaders stupid just yet.

The more likely possibility arises from this scenario:

When electioneering back in 2008, the National party picked on pupil literacy and numeracy problems as a great issue to appeal to middle and upper class Kiwi voters. Like that other perennial easy hit, Law and Order, it was simple to express and it resonated with many parents. And (again like law and order and the implications on prison costs) it didn’t lend itself during election time to much in-depth analysis thinking about the implications of setting national standards, especially among people who don’t understand much about education issues and the problems real teachers face day to day.

National won the election. So the new Education Minister, who had extolled her policy initiative pre-election, had to follow through. And it was then that the people who actually understand the educational process began to suggest that things were not quite so straightforward.

So Tolley faced expert, in-depth analysis and criticism that simply testing children does not necessarily make them any better off, and that – worse – it may well do harm to the education of individual children and the country as a whole. Issues such as teaching to the test, labelling slower kids as perennial failures, and publishable school league tables were brought into the open. The paucity of sound argument by Tolley and her supporters also came to light as we learn that she has no plan whatsoever as to how to use the results to improve education.

Except for one thing. And I’ve realised that this is the underlying motivation that keeps supporters of standards testing rolling.

Tolley is hoping that the publication of results will enable the naming and shaming of teachers and schools, so that they will feel compelled to “improve” their work efforts so their pupils will “pass the tests”.

There isn’t enough money, it seems, to invest more in teacher training and upskilling and in better classroom resources and smaller classes. These are the logical, proven ways of lifting standards throughout the country. So if we’re not prepared to take that path, then the next best way is to use sticks rather than carrots – make the “failing” teachers and schools known to us all, in order to make them feel bad and try harder.

This negative approach may work with a small minority of lazier teacher – just as it would with small minorities of lazier workers everywhere, even politicians – but it does nothing to positively motivate teachers and lift morale, which surely is the best long-term way of lifting educational standard overall.

This policy battle between certain politicians and educational experts and fieldworkers is really, then, a combination of a minister’s determination not to lose face plus a mean-spirited, negative attitude to ordinary educational workers who are trying to do their best with the resources available to them.


Education Minister Tolley can’t escape her own faulty logic loop

January 27, 2010

Education Minister Anne Tolley continues to paint herself into a corner over the government’s National Literacy Standards policy.

I heard her interviewed on the radio this morning, following the announcement that she has lost the tertiary education portfolio – purportedly so she can put all her efforts into forcing through the Standards policy. I was flinching with embarrassment as she spoke (one could easily imagine it was through gritted teeth), doggedly raising the same old arguments we’ve heard over and over for the past several months. (I wrote on this topic last year on this page)

It’s hard not to be convinced that the stripping of her second portfolio in order to concentrate on one policy is anything but a demotion. The one plus that she can take from this is that, curiously, John Key is still backing her policy. (Everyone else is ducking for cover.)

Those same old arguments – I’m getting really sick of them. Every time it goes something like this.

Question: Why introduce national standards?

Tolley: We know have 150,000 kids who are underachieving. We have to do something to address that.

Q: What are you proposing should be done?

T: We need to show what they’re supposed to be achieving, and we need to test them to see who’s not achieving.

Q: How will that help the 150,000 underachievers?

T: It will show them what they should be capable of so they can be considered achievers.

Q: How will testing them make them achieve any better?

T: Look, there are 150,000 underachievers and we must do something to change this national shame and waste.

Q: But we already have standards testing in most schools. What will this add?

T: National standards will tell parents and children what they need to be achieving, what are acceptable achievements in numeracy and literacy.

Q: Anyhow, how do we know there are 150,000 underachievers?

T: We’ve asked the schools who have tested and that’s what we’ve found.

Q: So how will doing the tests again achieve anything? If we already know there are that many not achieving, how will testing them again and again solve anything.

T: Look, National got into government promising to do something to address the problem of 150,000 underachievers so here, we’re doing something.

And round …. and round …. and round again, the same old “logic”. Does she think we’re all simple-minded, or does she hope there are enough idiots among us to not see the lack of any common sense here?

As for her other major weapon to handle reporters: that huge numbers of teachers agree with her but it’s only the unions that are standing in her way – this proves to me that she simply is no longer listening and just wants to fight to the end to show who’s boss.

Anne Tolley has painted herself (and John Key in the process) into a corner and cannot now escape without creating an even bigger mess. How this will resolve I have no idea, but I see very little chance of no-one being hurt in the process.


Haiti – a lesson about big cities

January 24, 2010

The terrible humanitarian situation in Haiti following the big earthquake is saddening beyond measure. As for so many other outsiders I’m sure, for me there is an overwhelming feeling of helplessness that even donating significant sums of money cannot alleviate.

The disaster also offers some lessons and insights about modern living, and I’m going to discuss one. Please note, however – it is not my desire in any way to take advantage of the situation to plug some of my beliefs, but rather, hopefully, to add just a little long-term perspective. (Other lessons will doubtless be learned, especially political ones, and many will be quickly forgotten as well.)

Most of what we’re read and heard and seen in the various media has centred on what’s happening in and around the capital Port-au-Prince, a city, we’re told, of 3 million souls.

It’s easy to feel anger or disgust when reading about or watching the looting and anarchy, the stampedes for food, but try to imagine a similar situation in a quake-threatened Wellington with its population of around half a million.

With the airport essentially out of action, how would planes get in with aid? With roads damaged and buildings collapsed along major thoroughfares, how would stuff be distributed? How would you get your survival food after days, even weeks, if all the shops ran dry or were destroyed? What would you drink if the water reticulation system was broken?

How long would it take before you took matters into your own hands and grabbed what you could from wherever you could find it? Desperate shortages lead to desperate actions.

We in New Zealand started to imagine the implications of such infrastructure stress when swine flu caused alarm a year or so ago. What would you need on hand within your home if you couldn’t easily get to the supermarket or the chemist? We’ve also had civil defence analysis and advice put to us to contemplate what would happen in an earthquake or tsunami struck here. We tried to think down that path, but it’s so hard to actually picture. I think it wouldn’t be much different to events in Port au Prince, perhaps just a slightly more dignified or restrained desperation J

My point is that cities of the size of Port-au-Prince, or Sydney, or Auckland simply cannot operate for their residents without the infrastructure to enable goods and services to be traded or exchanged. In all but the most primitive of lifestyles, life depends on the exchange of products and services. You have no garden? That’s OK, you simply buy food from those who do, using money you got from selling what you do have or services you offer to others in the city who don’t have what you do.

It all works as long as there are places of exchange, the means for buyers and sellers to travel to those places, accessible producers of all goods and services regarded as necessary or desirable for life (including transportation to ship in goods not produced locally), and willing buyers and sellers.

But what happens when the market infrastructure breaks down physically? If sellers cannot get goods to market, or cannot even produce the goods, and/or if buyers cannot get to market or cannot afford to pay for purchasers, then it all turns to custard. In a big city, that is.

In smaller communities, people can exchange without the need for the intermediary marketplaces, and distance and access to market is not a problem.

Four months ago I moved from a city of 400,000 people to Motueka, a town of around 10,000. Now everything I need to live comfortably and productively is within walking or cycling distance. The surrounding countryside is capable of supporting the living needs (in particular, the food) of all the residents. The water is sourced locally so, if push came to shove, I could walk to the river to fill a few pots.

If a major disaster hit Motueka, many people’s livelihoods would be severely affected, but we would mostly get by with locally grown food that is accessible via barter trades from walkable sources. We could get clean water (although a tsunami may limit that for a while if lots of seawater got in). With a town built of discrete houses rather that built in top of and hard up against each other, it would be relatively easy to gather enough materials to built adequate temporary shelters.

Sure, there are some nice things that are not readily available in this town, such as big-box retail outlets, concerts by overseas entertainers, tertiary learning institutions, and a full range of eateries (though we do pretty well here on these). For these we do need to drive to Nelson, the nearest city, or Wellington or Christchurch. But most of us know that these consumer items are elective add-ons, not necessities of life.

I wrote about the reasons I moved to Motueka here. Those reasons are based on concepts of community, physical size, and healthy sustainability. The news of yet another humanitarian tragedy in Port-au-Prince, which has been made far worse than many other earthquakes because it was centred near a large, populous, overcrowded and already-stressed city, reinforces for me the unsustainable nature of living cheek-by-jowl in large cities.

I’m not saying that therefore all large cities should be broken up and the population moved to smaller towns and communities, but by encouraging the growth of larger cities – by centralising markets in order to build further material wealth – we are making ever bigger problems for ourselves into the future (as well as enlarging the potential for natural disasters to lead to greater humanitarian tragedies).

I may be wrong but . . . . I believe we should stop fostering ever-larger cities and population centres by encouraging decentralised economies, and by de-emphasising market-driven consumer economics.


Three strikes policy will do more good than harm

January 20, 2010

The government’s new policy for dealing with the worst of our repeat offenders actually has my guarded support. That’s a surprise to me, anyway, and probably to some of my readers, because I’m also a staunch opponent of the increasingly disheartening “lock ‘em up and throw away the key” mentality.

I support restorative justice policies and programmes as a first option for many offenders. After that, I believe that every criminal should be given at least one chance of rehabilitation while serving their sentence, together with a realistic post-prison opportunity to prove rehab has happened. I believe that well-managed parole programmes provide a good way of achieving the inevitable transition from prison to society. And I believe that long, harsh jail sentences usually satisfy only those seeking vengeance, and in fact rarely act as a deterrent and almost never as a tool for rehabilitation.

But I also believe that there are some people who, usually due to some factors in their neglected upbringing or some serious psychopathology, are beyond rehabilitation by conventional methods. They have performed a pattern of violent crimes against people over a long period of time, despite opportunities to turn their lives around.

Repeat violent offenders may still be capable of rehabilitation, but the chances are so low that I believe a line has to be drawn. These people – a small minority I believe – must simply be kept off the streets for as long as possible, and not only for the sake of public safety. They are probably a danger to themselves as well.

The “three strikes” policy (a catchy rip-off title from baseball-mad America) now has enough support to be passed into New Zealand law. It will see graded punishments for serious offenders over three offences.

Of course, the first offences will be treated as they always have been, with adjudicated sentences and the possibility of parole providing an incentive to rehab. We don’t know at that point that there will or won’t be any repeats after the sentence is served. To me it’s like anyone who I deal with daily: until they do me wrong, I’ll give them unquestioned trust. If they wrong me once, I’ll be much more careful with them in future but will still allow some benefit of the doubt.

A second serious offence will mean a standard sentence but no parole. Yes, some people may need a second reminder of where their decisions and offences are taking them, before they finally get it. In my personal life analogy, if I’m wronged a second time, I would normally put myself in a position of not having to deal with that person again, but I wouldn’t go on a personal vendetta.

Under Three Strikes, a third serious offence will mean the maximum allowable sentence and no parole. In many cases this will mean never getting out (a true life sentence) and as I’ve said, I think this is justifiable more often than not.

So I give considered support for this approach.

I don’t believe three strikes will be a deterrent – in fact it may well encourage a third-time rapist to kill, knowing he will “get life” anyway so why not minimise the evidence that could implicate him.

And I would detest such a law if it was enacted mainly to satisfy the routine calls for vengeance by victims and the Stupid Sentencing Trust.

I will support it if it’s seen mainly as a humane way of keeping society safer when all other alternative forms of action have been tried.




Comparing life across the Tasman

January 15, 2010

I’m back at the keyboard after a few weeks pre-occupied with family stuff. And not much has happened that I feel strongly enough to write about.

I must admit to a degree of satisfaction (hopefully not edging too far toward smugness) that New Zealand’s government has decided to change direction on Fiji. Loud, angry chest-thumping and finger-pointing have, as I (and others) predicted in an earlier blog, led nowhere. Nor should it: Fiji’s governance is Fiji’s concern, not ours.

To begin my writing this year I want to go back a month or so to the report by Don Brash’s taskforce on how to “catch up” to Australia. My opinions are somewhat longer formed on this issue than many others, as I lived my first 25 years in Australia and have chosen to live since then in New Zealand.

For those non-downunder readers of this blog (happily, the number of such is growing), many New Zealanders – ranging from leading politicians down to my own daughters – have been angsting for the past couple of decades about how much more money Kiwis can make in Australia, how the shopping is so much better and how the lifestyle is richer and more affluent.

So leading right-winger Don Brash was tasked with drawing up a plan that would enable us to catch up, to earn more and be able to spend more. Although one of the expressed motivations for setting this goal is to encourage more young Kiwis to stay here, I suspect this is only a minor goal for most business leaders, well behind simply making more money and buying more stuff.

There’s also the aspirational (or envy?) factor. Pacific Islanders worry about their citizens coming to New Zealand as they aspire to live our lifestyle. Kiwis similarly aspire to be more like their big cousins over the Tasman Sea and worry when our kids fly off there. But then Australians aspire to match the earnings and influence of Americans (or English) and do their own big OEs.

On this issue, very few people have been asking the question: Do we really want New Zealand to be more like Australia? Especially if that means we also have to accommodate a larger population in much larger cities, and be spread that much further apart. Is the extra money that can be earned in Oz worth the loss in lifestyle? And anyhow, will young Kiwis travel and work overseas regardless of how much money they can make at either end?

Back when we were both working employees in Melbourne and Christchurch respectively, my brother, still living over there, would have earned more than I. But he would have spent a hunk of the difference on petrol commuting from the outer suburbs (plus loss of time while driving a couple of hours a day), as well as on servicing a mortgage on a more expensive house. (For the record, we were never in such comparable positions so this comparison is incorrect in detail, but reasonable in principle.)

He pays significantly more in several State and Federal taxes and for items such as car registration and insurance. It’s further to travel for him to see other members of his family (myself notwithstanding).

It is just too simplistic to compare the two countries in terms of money in the wage packet. So many specific factors can enter the equation for any one person or comparison.

So it comes back to balancing all the advantages and disadvantages between the two countries, not just the relative material wealth. I actually chose (and continue to choose, despite being apart from my dear siblings all living still in Australia) to live in New Zealand. For me, the complete picture included being able to earn enough money to live comfortably, alongside the simpler, more sustainable lifestyle and diversity of culture here. With all these factors in the equation, my decision was to live here.