Bounty babies. (1912)

From the December 1912 issue of the Socialist Standard

Smiling mothers everywhere, clasping their new arrivals as though they hadn’t a care in the world. Thus the highly coloured posters picture the thirty bob benefit, the “endowment of motherhood,” under the “People’s Insurance Act.”

In the black hells of mining villages, midst the smoky and dirt-ridden factory towns, and around the death-stricken courts and alleys of dockland—there faces you this poster. In foul St. Helens, in Dante’s Dowlais, in unprintable Canning Town—there is this cynical caricature displayed.

Mark the pink and glowing faces of the wives of workingmen, the mothers of the working class. There is no deathly pallor there, no line of sorrow or privation, no mark of haunting worry and anxiety. No, all these are wiped out by the hand that was going to “banish poverty from every hearth” in three years.

Provided they have paid in sufficient to clear administration charges, the doctor’s “eight and six,” the sanatorium’s cost, the druggist’s demands, the approved society’s levy, etc., and if they have enough then left, the mother is to get thirty bob ! But to win this she must do without sickness benefit for two weeks before and four weeks after confinement. The medical benefit also is withdrawn when the “thirty pieces of silver” come. The doctor is not supplied. He must be paid out of the money. So must the midwife, and all the other expenses. It is open to the approved society to provide these and pocket your thirty pieces. If the mother seeks the portals of the lying-in hospital, they get her money. If the child is still born, then it is a case for the referees, lawyers, medicos, etc. These are the joys that await the woman who presents her “marriage lines” to the commissioners and her babe to a grateful country.

The Liberal frauds even boast that one million mothers of the working class are going to be made happy with this thirty bob every year. It is a significant comment upon the prevailing social system that in the richest country in the world one million mothers stand in need of a thirty-shilling dole to enable them to bring their babies into the world. Think who it is that require this assistance. It is the wives of the workers, not of the idlers ; the toiling wives, not the won’t-work women, who need it—and who have to pay for it.

I have sometimes wondered what the result would be if an official called with a “maternity” benefit upon a parasitic partner—say Mrs. John Jacob Astor, the “Titanic” heroine, who brought the three-million-pound baby into the world, or Mrs. Vanderbilt, who gave birth to a millionaire child at Wimbledon lately. The idler’s wife would collapse with horror at the bare suggestion that she stood in need of such humiliating aid, and the footman would do things which hurt.

One million workers’ babies need bounties ! One million veteran and broken toilers need pensions for the December of their days. Thus confesses the Government. If the babes only knew ! If they live through the strife and struggle of the dozen years of childhood, what lies beyond ? They have to serve the sentence of close on sixty years hard labour—sixty years of servitude passed upon them by the owners, the robbers, of the world’s wealth.

Not only hard labour at bench, or machine, but hard labour in the weary, heart-breaking, never-ceasing round of visits to the slave exchange, the factories and workshops, begging a job.

There is the incentive. After sixty years of back-breaking toil they will stand in dire need of a pensioner’s dole. But the babies do not know, go they live on.

No, not all of them. Only some of the toilers’ children escape the clutches of Death. The Registrar General in bis report tells us that in the mining towns of Durham, in the Rhondda Valley, in the cotton-weaving town of Burnley, in the pottery town of Longton, and in many other places, 200 out of every 1,000 children born are done with life before they are one year old. What is being done to stop tbis murder ? Precious little, even in the face of the steadily falling birth-rate. As Father Ring and otbers have shown, as lying in hospitals have reported, the children of the transport workers died off like flies at the time of the strike because their mothers were starved by the callous scoundrels who own and control the means of life.

In textile factories, in dressmakers’ and tailors’ workshops, in pottery bakehouses, in chainmaking sheds, in jute mills and matchmakers’ mortuaries, there sweat the mothers of the toilers’ race. In creches, in nurseries, in open streets and blindalleys, and in locked rooms their loved ones must be left while they mint millions for the parasites and their pets. No wonder Lancashire doctors report that in time of strikes and lock-outs the early days are marked by declining infant mortality and illness. This is because the mothers are set free to look after their little ones. True, as in East London,, when the dispute lasts long all this improvement is wiped out by the starvation that inevitably ensues.

The children of Carthage were sacrificed to Moloch, but the quick death of these was merciful, for all its seeming barbarity, by comparison with the lingering torture of the starved mites of the modern workers. The newspapers are full of sickening stories from the “homes” where the babies are brought to die. The present Tooting case, where five infants died within a week, is an example.

Again, the Southwark Coroner pointed out on November 12 that 600 children are burnt to death every year in England—mainly the tragedy of flannelette ! Flannel is not for the infants of the working class.

After infancy, school, for a meagre and begrudged apology for education, rushed through in the shortest possible space of time. The Board of Education tells us that of those fourteen years of age only 36 per cent. are at day school—the rest are at work !

The masters, however, want, the children before they are fourteen. The Interdepartmental Committee on the Partial Exemption of School Children (1909) said (vide Report): “It was most strongly represented to us by millowners round Bradford and Halifax that any restriction, on the supply is liable to cause inconvenience to employers.” The half-time system meets the masters’ demands in that it is cheap and the children are docile.

Ever since 1900 the number of half-timers has steadily risen. It rose from 74,000 in that year to 78,000 in 1903, 80,000 in 1904, 82,000 in 1906, 85,000 in 1908. At twelve years of age the boys and girls are busy in the heated sheds and mills, grinding out profits for those who own. Although the Board of Education states that over 60 per cent. of the children attending school are defective in health, Mr. W. Sykes, of the Teachers’ Union, stated that in 24 years’ experience he had never known a child rejected, as physically unfit, although some of them were not robust enough to be employed in the playground. (Before the Board of Education, Nov, . 4, 1907.)

What is the lot of the children working half-time at twelve years ? The Committee referred to told the Government that “their progress is retarded, if not absolutely brought to a standstill. The children come to school tired and sleepy. . . . They are unable to pay proper attention to their school work. The boy . . . loses a large part of his education . . at a time when the value of education ought to become greater to children.”

They tell us that “the results of several statistical investigations made in more than one half-time town indicate distinctly that the weight and chest measurement, and sometimes the height, of half-time children, are less than half those of full-time children in the same place and of the same age.”

What shall you think, then, of the Labour Party members who try to keep the little ones in the mills to be murdered ? Mr. Shackleton, before he got his present job, supported with might and main the maintenance of the half-time system, and his fellow Labour members resented any attack upon this masters’ man. Now Mr. W. A. Gill, a shining light of the Labour Party in the House of Commons, opposes the abolition of the half-time system. In the half-time debate on April 26, 1912, he said he “agreed with those who believed that in letting them (the children) go to school half the day and be trained to work during the other half, they were doing what was best for their children.” One almost fancies one can hear the bosses telling him to say it.

Bad as half-time is for children of twelve and thirteen, the labour leaders have done their best to force the children into the mills and fields full time at those ages. In short, they have helped the murderers of the children in their nefarious work, and, like Shackleton, they will get jobs.

In May, 1906, Sir John Brunner, the millionaire chemical-factory owner, introduced into Parliament a Bill “to amend the Education Act.” This Bill bore the names of its backers, Mr. Will Crooks, of the Labour Party, and also Mr. Ramsay MacDonald, its secretary.

While Mr. MacDonald’s party were “pledged” to fight for the raising of the school age, he fought to lower it. Whilst twelve and thirteen were the earliest ages for partial exemption from day school, he tried to make them the statutory ages for total exemption !—conditional always, upon their being driven to night school to have their tired brains racked with education.

We opened with the blessings of childhood, but the blessings belong to those who do the children in—to the Penruddocks and the Wilesmiths ; to the Abkar Reformatory rulers and the Tooting philanthropists, the thoughtful factory owners and the rural lordlings. The blessings will fall upon the children when, through the triumph of Socialism, the power of property over human existence has gone for ever.

Adolph Kohn

The Workers and Education (1944)

From the September 1944 issue of the Socialist Standard

Many workers read with pleasure the announcement in the daily press of the proposal of the new Education Act to extend their children’s schooling to the age of 15 years, coupled with a vague promise of raising it when possible to the dizzy height of 16 years. Perhaps they took it as an earnest of the post-war reconstruction we hear so much of nowadays, an added inducement to have bigger and better families completely educated by the State.

If proof were needed to show that education is part of the State machinery used by the ruling class to make obedient wage slaves, it was given in the proceedings in the House of Lords on July 11th, 1944. The Daily Telegraph of the following day reports:—

“The Minister of Education is to discuss with his Advisory Council the best course to adopt to see that children are taught the duties of citizenship and to defend their native country.”

In the debate which followed between the noble Lords, the Church gave its blessing to jingoism when the Archbishop of Canterbury. Dr. Temple, replied to Lord Mottistone, who stated that it was “the law of the land to defend one’s country,” by saying, “I was fully aware of it and rejoice in the fact.” (Daily Telegraph, July 12th).

Later on in the debate, the following curious statement was made by Viscount Maugham : —

“Historians of France had said that in recent years no body of people in that country were so responsible for the events of 1940 as were the teachers.” (Daily Telegraph, July 12th.)

Blame has been laid at many doors for the fall of France, but Viscount Maugham has at least been original in his particular scapegoat. It is, however, difficult to accept. If he would peruse a little work by Mark Starr, entitled “Lies and Hate in Education,” he might learn a little about history and geography as taught to elementary school children of capitalist countries. A whole chapter is devoted to the French text books. It opens on page 94: “In comparison with the British books, bias and nationalistic hatred are more easily to be seen in their French counterparts.” Many and extensive quotations are given from the French school which illustrate the design to awaken hatred of the Germans and to make children believe that they are their hereditary enemies and the sources of all their troubles. Thus does the ruling clique, as representatives of capital, endeavour to befog the workers, from a tender age onwards, into believing that their enemies are anyone but their masters, and also prepares their minds to accept the vituperative outpourings against a competitive nation, which always accompanies a military attack upon it.

One quotation by Mark Starr shows that the Treaty of Versailles was eulogised by the French history books, whilst the German counterparts gave a totally opposite view. Yet another reads : —

“You will happily put up with the strenuous and noble soldier life if you remember the past—our bombarded towns, our burnt-out villages—if you think of the provinces torn out of France, if you do not forget Alsace-Lorraine.” (Page 97).

From a “Reader for the Young,” the following is given : —

“The poor little boy has two cut hands. It is the Germans who have wounded him thus. They have killed his father, his sister, and his big brother as well. . . . Ah ! wicked Germans, the French children will curse you in their hearts for a long time.” (Page 100.)

A little history about the employment of young children in the French coal mines, such as is given in Zola’s “Germinal,” might have taught the French children to curse a little nearer home, where their own interests might have been affected.

Much, states the chapter on France, is said about German “ferocious beasts” and “brutes drunk with alcohol and blood” (pretty much the same as we read in our daily papers), whilst the Paris Commune of 1871 receives a boycott of silence, except that the Communards are dismissed as dangerous fanatics.

Many workers looking back on their own years at an elementary school will remember a similar attitude to history. Mainly an account of good, bad and indifferent kings, the unsurpassed greed of other nations, treachery among the blacks, yellows and browns, usually rounded off by a Kipling rhapsody on the white Britisher. The general ignorance of, say the Chartist movement is well illustrated by an extract from the chapter devoted to English education in Mark Starr’s book : —

“It is hardly surprising that when British soldiers in Murmansk were appealed to by aeroplane-scattered leaflets to “Remember your Chartist forefathers,” they only replied, “Who the hell are they?”… In treating the earlier Radical and Luddite agitations, the supporters are described as “rioters” and “foolish men.” This is the Fletcher Kipling account of Peterloo : 

"At one riot at Manchester in 1819 the soldiers had to be called in, and several people were shot. Very likely these were only innocent spectators; those who get up riots are usually careful to keep out of the way when their suppression begins. Stiff laws were passed in Parliament to prevent such riotous meetings for the future.’” (Pages 52 and 53.)

All civilised countries have their nationalistic teachings designed to warp the young mind. No wonder Socialist teaching is so often hard going; the workers have so many discoveries to make and so much to unlearn.

The Roman Catholic Church has always appreciated the need to get its adherents very young, and has protested strongly against the Education Act. The Act proposes to give them little financial assistance should they remain as they now are—that is, completely running their own schools and employing only teachers of the faith, and in many schools Monks and Nuns.

Commander Bower, in the House of Commons, among others, put the case for the Roman Catholics : —

“A Roman Catholic therefore must believe all the dogmas of his faith. His faith is a house supported by many pillars and if you knock one down, the whole collapses. . . . From this it follows that our view of education is fundamentally different. So religion must permeate the whole curriculum. All subjects must be taught from the Roman Catholic angle “(our italics). (Hansard, January 20th.)

So there it is, from the cradle to the grave never allow the individual to think for himself in case one pillar might be dislodged. Time, however, is not on their side. Not so very long ago the Roman Catholic Church held undisputed sway in this country. It became inconvenient, however, to the State, which endeavoured to institute a different kind of control on the worker. The manner in which it came about is beyond the scope of this article, but to anyone interested in real history it is most instructive.

It became necessary with the growth of capitalism that operatives of all descriptions must receive some education, but it was not of the variety designed to inculcate ideas of freedom in their minds. Education, nevertheless, is a two-edged sword, wield it never so carefully. Whilst making a useful worker, the development of his mind proceeds apace. Even the doctored history and geography cannot quite bemuse him, and his horizons widen ; often, however, he becomes disillusioned, but many turn this to good advantage, determined to resist and oust the master class. As the capitalist method of production advances, there is an increasing need for advanced education. The machines of the present war, for instance, require extensive knowledge of all branches of mathematics. The tremendous weaving and spinning plants of the cotton districts cannot be managed by a worker like those who ran the domestic industry in times gone by. Whilst many operations are performed by turning a lever, the actual working and construction of the machinery is a highly technical affair.

The longer period of education to be given by our masters, whilst appearing to be in the homes for heroes category, is merely a design for the better filling of our masters’ coffers. In veiled terms, the White Paper on Educational .Reconstruction stated this (page 19) : —

“From the point of view of the country’s manufacturing industry, agriculture and commerce, the training afforded by a system of part-time education in conjunction with employment is long overdue. The initial and natural advantages that gave this country, almost for the asking, its place of pre-eminence in world manufacture and world markets have long been fading. More and more in the future will it be necessary to rely on the capacity, adaptability and the quality of our industrial and commercial personnel. Had fuller attention been given earlier to the all-important question of training of young workers, some of the difficulties experienced by the Services and by industry during the present war would have been markedly less acute.”

Whilst an asset to the master class, therefore, we know the educated worker will be an asset to his own class in its task of educating for Socialism. The ability to propagate knowledge is badly needed. Many people are found to be receptive to our case, once presented, because of their own experience, but Socialist educationalists are needed to reach their brothers in all lands. The deplorable fact that most people believe what they read in their daily newspapers is somewhat mitigated by the fact that they can read; thus our hopes of teaching them with our literature.

To this end we welcome the Education Act, despite its capitalist purpose, for we remember that within the capitalist system are the seeds of its own destruction.

W. P.

50 Years Ago: Raising of the School Leaving Age (2022)

The 50 Years Ago column from the April 2022 issue of the Socialist Standard

From next year pupils whose fifteenth birthday falls on or after 1 September, 1972, will have to remain at school for one year more than they would otherwise have done, although it must at once be made clear that many children already stay on at school quite voluntarily. In fact there is an average of some 60 percent of the age group throughout the country already doing so. This figure must, however, be considered further to establish precisely where the problems are likely to arise. It does not follow that 60 percent in every area stay on at school; the incidence varies from about 68 percent in Greater London and the South to some 42 percent in the East Midlands.

The concern among practising teachers and administrators is directed towards the group of pupils who would normally leave at fifteen, and although these represent a minority of the age group there is a feeling that these “reluctant learners”, as they have come to be called, will cause disruption disproportionately to their numbers. (…)

Education in the seventies will continue to develop along the lines that it has for the past century, and to the same purpose, that is producing workers capable of manning the machinery of production and distribution, who are paid in return sufficient wages and salaries to reproduce their energies. The fact that some workers progress beyond this stage is due to their own efforts rather than the educational system, just as it was during the last century in Britain and just as it is today in many of the underdeveloped countries throughout the world. The Times “Turnover” article (29 April, 1964) pointed out that “Strictly speaking the hottest political debates about education are not about education at all. They are about national investment, national competitiveness, social justice and above all class.” The discussion, in other words, is about educational reforms within the context of capitalism. Real freedom and a truly liberal education can only come about in a cooperative and non-competitive society. Socialists look forward to the day when education will be genuinely for the individual, and when the development of creative talents will replace the pre-packeted, mass-training that sadly passes for education today.

(Socialist Standard, April 1972)

Careers (1999)

A Short Story from the February 1999 issue of the Socialist Standard

During the 1940s schools had the equivalent of what I suppose today would be called “careers” officers. Three people (it was usually three) would visit a school and pupils of fourteen and fifteen would be called in, one-by-one, for an interview about their job prospects. The interview took place with a head teacher present and was, at least in my own experience, a scanty and one-sided affair. It should be borne in mind that this was 1949 just four years after the end of the second world war and there was a serious shortage of labour. The resultant devastation wreaked by the Blitz called for massive re-building, but the thousands slaughtered both at home and abroad meant that jobs were plentiful but at very low wages in most cases.

In those days (and I suspect the situation is still prevalent today despite mass unemployment) poor families viewed their offspring’s school-leaving as a time when perhaps a little more money would be brought into the house to help alleviate hardship. The word “career” did not come into the thinking of people who spent a major part of their existence wondering where the next meal was coming from. And as far as I know not one child went from my school to either Grammar school or to a university. As for me, I was aware that, like my brothers before me, I would one day quit school and be expected to do something to contribute to household funds, but what that “something” was going to be was a thought I had never entertained. I think I fondly imagined that once freed from dreary old school I would spend joyous hours reading and writing or tearing round streets on the clapped-out old bike a neighbour had passed on to me. And I was encouraged in this self-deception simply because no-one at home had thought to discuss with me how I was going to earn a living, though once my father had remarked that he would not want to see me end up at Tate & Lyle’s, the sugar factory on the other side of the Thames.

I remember my career interview with as much clarity as though it was yesterday. Hauled in from the playground where I had been taking part in a game of net-ball, sweaty and dishevelled, I entered a room where four people, one woman, two men and the headmaster, sat round a table and eyed me suspiciously. But without looking at me the woman asked “What are you going to do when you leave school?” Without a moment’s hesitation I told her “I am going to write, Miss”. There was a stunned silence. I knew by the smiles of disbelief on the faces of those present that I had voiced a preposterous idea. The headmaster cleared his throat. “Heather writes very competent essays and poetry and edits the school magazine, but her other subjects are weak, particularly her maths. She could never earn her living as a writer.” I keenly felt the injustice of this statement. I had never said that I wished to earn my living as a writer. I had been asked what I was going to do when I left school and had answered in all honesty that I was going to write.

The woman said, still avoiding looking at me directly (I noticed that nobody looked at me or even addressed their remarks to me; they spoke only to each other) “What about an office job?” The headmaster stroked his chin. “Yes,” he said, “we had given that some consideration.” I wondered who had given that “some consideration” because it certainly wasn’t me. Then one of the men consulted his notes. “You could get a job in a shop,” he told me. Well, he didn’t actually tell me, he told the others. The second man ventured another splendid proposal. “What about a factory?” I was beginning to feel that eventually someone would come up with the bright idea of suggesting sending me up chimneys like poor Tom in The Water Babies.

I was gazing out of the window as they talked among themselves. I heard murmurs of “Pleasing appearance” and “Nicely spoken”. How could they tell? I had spoken only six words since I had entered the room.

The rest of that interview has always remained rather hazy for me. When I left that room depression descended heavily upon me. I saw, in my mind’s eye, years and years of office, shop and factory work stretching out before me. The attitude of those people, helpful though they may have thought they were being, had instilled in me the notion that I really wasn’t up to much, that I was in some way deficient. Now I know what is meant by a self-fulfilling prophecy. If children are told they cannot do this or that, then the chances are that they never will. To me education means always starting with the premise that kids are unique and social little beings, that they can do anything. But if they are treated as I was, only as fodder for a capitalist system, then in all probability they will become unhappy adults doing work that in their hearts they despise. That is what happened to me.

Heather Ball

Education and the Working Class (1976)

From the April 1976 issue of the Socialist Standard

The growth of state education was once called “the silent social revolution”. Few phrases ring less true. Silent it is not: loud discord is its characteristic. If a revolution, it has ended in chaos with the strategies all gone wrong and a popular feeling that those responsible deserve the worst.

The thirty-one years since the war have seen the implementation of the 1944 Education Act, which produced a tripartite system of secondary schools, followed by the demolition of that system in favour of comprehensive schools. Under the 1944 Act the school-leaving age was raised from 14 to 15, and in the last two years it has been extended to 16. Each change has been advocated as a reform containing great advantages for “the nation” and the working class, and each in due course has produced despair.

The fruits of the present system can be summarized as follows. 15 per cent, of school leavers are illiterate, according to research carried out by the Cadmean Trust (Guardian Education correspondence, 9th April 1974). It is estimated that half a million school- children in Greater London and another half-million elsewhere do not attend school at all; a high proportion of them are in the “extra year” age group between 15 and 16. “Equality of opportunity”, which was the professed aim of the reorganizations of secondary education, has never materialized. Numbers of schools are bear-gardens and teachers themselves are truants, afraid to face a daily losing battle.

To understand how and why this situation exists it is necessary to go back to the beginning of state education in 1870. At that stage in capitalism its need to systematize the existing partial facilities and have the working class educated to a basic standard had become clear. Philanthropists and radicals had agitated for education to be provided, but the motives for reform are practical ones. In particular, technical change—the petrol engine, the small electric motor, typewriter, telephone, linotype machine, cash register, tramcar, fountain pen and many other new inventions entered industry and commerce in the last quarter of the nineteenth century.

The process, extended by further Education Acts in 1902 and 1918, ensured the capitalist class a supply of clerks, mechanics and shop assistants who could add figures and had been taught obedience. It also provided a means of creaming-off more proficient children to be trained for more skilled work and even to enter the universities and professions. From the nineteen-twenties onward, the established grammar schools were encouraged by financial incentives to admit increasing numbers of “scholarship” boys and girls who were likely to do well. Investment in education remained restricted, however. The 1918 Act empowered and recommended local authorities to raise the school-leaving age to 15, but between the wars there did not seem much point in providing additional education for employment when unemployment was chronic.

The 1939-45 war emphasized capitalism's need to comb the working class for the abilities it wanted, and this turned to the special demand for technically-trained people in the nineteen-fifties. It was held that the post-1944 three types of school, based on selection at 11 years old, was inefficient in this respect: neither America nor Russia had a system of early selection, and both produced more science graduates than Britain. It seems to be wilfully forgotten now that this was one of the major arguments for comprehensive schools. Defending them in a recent television discussion Fred Mulley, the Minister for Education, said he was opposed to selection in any form. Yet the statement which committed the Labour Party to introducing comprehensive schools, Learning to Live (1958) opened with a section called “True Selection”. It claimed that selection at 11 was unsatisfactory, and that its plan would mean “real and continuing selection”.

Selection means rejection. As in the adult world for which it is the preparation (the school day is modelled on the working day), in the education system communalty and lofty motives are preached while divisiveness and mercenary aims are practised. In 1964, in a book called English for the Rejected, David Holbrook estimated that three-eighths of the secondary schools’ population formed the residue from the selection procedures, and were treated as “lesser beings” in the education system. Of this large section he wrote: “Who shall blame them for becoming a resentful group expressing their contempt for a society which treated them as ‘dim dregs’, by taking to forms of delinquency and violence, or by other forms of unsocial behaviour?”

The answer to the question is, of course: Nearly everybody. The London crime figures for 1975 showed a continuing increase in crime by young persons; 37 per cent, of thefts of and from cars were committed by children between 10 and 16. In connection with this and other figures a police official said London is “heading for the most violent period in its history” (The Times, 11th March 1976). This misrepresents the situation insofar as, throughout the history of capitalism, parts of big cities have always been infested with delinquents. The writer Jack London in his youth in the early eighteen-nineties ran with gangs of hooligans and took part in muggings. The sentiment today is that it is specially deplorable after so much social reform, in education particularly.

However, the fact is that the capitalist class — abetted, and whether consciously or not does not matter, by reformists—has gone too far. In its anxiety for profit it has demanded the perfection of a method for grading and separating prospective workers. The outcome is a youthful mass who are labelled “low-grade” but kept in the education system which has no use for them. In the 1914-18 war the capitalists found likewise that their greed had rebounded on them: large numbers of the working class, starved and deprived, hardly had the strength to fight for capitalism.

Similar observations can be made about illiteracy. Its true extent is never ascertainable because illiterate people themselves and schools both seek to conceal it. On 3rd March 1976 The Times reported that the government was giving money to the Adult Literacy Resource Agency “for the campaign to teach more than two million illiterate adults to read and write”. In 1850 it was estimated that eight million, or just under a third of the population of Britain, could neither read nor write. If it is assumed that the Cadmean Trust’s figure of 15 per cent, is an underestimate, after more than a century of compulsory education illiteracy has been halved.

This looks like the failure of the education system, but it is not. The system carries out what is required of it by capitalism. Its apparent problems are problems of the capitalist organization of society, that it is mistakenly expected to solve. On 19th December 1972 The Guardian's Education Notebook, referring to a discussion in New Society on the proposition “education is our main hope for social change”, said:

. . . the compelling evidence is that readers of New Society have got it wrong. In the last few months four separate studies have been published, and they have iterated a single message: that there is little, perhaps nothing, that the education system in isolation can do to alter the pattern of our society.

What it reflects overwhelmingly is the position of the working class, and the futility of hopes of “equality of opportunity”—or of “learning to live” in such a system.

Socialists have an interest in education of another kind: workers must learn about capitalism and what to do to get rid of it. We are often asked what prospects there are of this, in view of the lack of success in getting large numbers to learn in school. It is an educational commonplace that people, including school failures, learn swiftly when they want or need to. Backward boys become wizards of mental arithmetic if they take to buying and selling goods, and people “pick up” foreign languages they would never have learned at school. If Socialism were no more than an idea, the task would indeed be hopeless. But that is not the case. The drive to understand it comes from the pressure of the class division in society, and the compulsion for workers to know and pursue their interests.

We are asked, too, about education in Socialist society. The fact that Socialism is based on common ownership means that, for the first time, education will be for the purposes only pretended today—the benefit of the community and its individual members, not for an exploiting class. As regards literacy, the fact is that any literate adult can teach a child to read (many children teach themselves) and, with social disabilities removed, it would cease to be an achievement for some but not for others. The study of numbers may well acquire a different status, since its chief elementary function today is dealing with money.

Beyond the basic things, there will be choice in place of compulsion. As teachers know, people learn little or nothing at all of what they are not interested in. In any case, the amount learned of any subject in the school-lesson system over several years is pitifully small, aiming only at a general minimum. The purpose of true education is not to stuff knowledge into others, but to develop the desire and show the way for each one to obtain it for himself. Once it exists, the desire is not extinguished at 16 or when an examination is over. In a sane society, education would be available at every time in life.

Robert Barltrop

Raising of the school leaving age (1972)

From the April 1972 issue of the Socialist Standard

A Teacher writes . . . 

Over the past twenty years or so education has become one of the most popular discussion topics among pundits, practitioners and participants alike. Following the 1944 Butler Education Act, and the resulting tripartite secondary system of grammar, technical and modern schools, there has been much heated argument about early selection and the relatively privileged position of the grammar schools. This in turn has been followed by a movement towards comprehensive schools and their gradual and partial replacement of grammar schools. But the concept of “equality of educational opportunity" has meant many things to many people in the past, not least among supporters of the comprehensive movement who saw in such schools the opportunity to put into practice such ideas of equality. The publication of three "Black Papers" on education by anti-comprehensive writers, and indeed other writings by some who support the idea in principle, has shown that much of the expected outcome has not been fulfilled, and the ethos within these schools today seems to hold little promise of a more egalitarian structure in education. As Dennis Marsden point out, in Education For Democracy, the early supporters of comprehensives looked to these new schools to provide a solvent for class barriers and inequality. They urged the abolition of grammar schools on the grounds of social exclusiveness, narrowness and rigidity of academic curriculum. By contrast, many of the later supporters of the comprehensive schools have wanted merely an extension of the grammar school traditions with a higher proportion of the population benefiting. Also, instead of the proposed unstreaming and the common curriculum, with flexible teaching methods intended to promote a new co-operative atmosphere especially geared towards the average or less-able child, the existing competitive streamed and specialised structure has for the most part been retained. The measure of success is still the number of GCE passes, university places and the more efficient use of scarce science and maths teachers.

Accompanying these arguments have been other equally passionate themes such as forms of examinations, school organisation and size of classes, changing pattern of sixth forms, abolition of free milk, and as a reminder that teachers are very much part of the class struggle there has been regular recurrences of teachers’ pay negotiations. Now comes the latest controversy in this long line of reform, namely the raising of the school leaving age, or ROSLA as it has become popularly known. From next year pupils whose fifteenth birthday falls on or after 1 September, 1972, will have to remain at school for one year more than they would otherwise have done, although it must at once be made clear that many children already stay on at school quite voluntarily. In fact there is an average of some 60 per cent of the age group throughout the country already doing so. This figure must, however, be considered further to establish precisely where the problems are likely to arise. It does not follow that 60 per cent in every area stay on at school; the incidence varies from about 68 per cent in Greater London and the South to some 42 per cent in the East Midlands.

The concern among practising teachers and administrators is directed towards the group of pupils who would normally leave at fifteen, and although these represent a minority of the age group there is a feeling that these “reluctant learners”, as they have come to be called, will cause disruption disproportionately to their numbers. An indication of this concern can be seen in Enquiry I, a Government Social Survey undertaken as part of the Schools Council’s programme for helping teachers prepare for the raising of the school leaving age. Around 3,000 teachers were interviewed.

The majority had some reservations about the advantages of keeping at least some of their pupils at school for the extra year, and one union — The National Association of Schoolmasters — views the plan with considerable apprehension. During the debate on the proposal at its Easter Conference, older delegates said their life expectancy was being shortened by five years by the stresses of coping with unruly teenagers in large urban schools.

Britain, of course, is not alone in this desire to extend education beyond the current school leaving age. Although there has been something of an explosion of pupils between 17-18 in schools there is still only 19 per cent of the age group getting full-time education. This compares with 24 per cent in France and Italy, some 38 per cent in the Netherlands and Belgium, over 70 per cent in Japan and nearly 90 per cent in America and higher proportions will soon be internationally commonplace. Yet some are asking if these figures are justified even by present-day standards, when one considers the type of education churned out for these increasing numbers. Does capitalist society need the technologists, and if so are the schools best fitted to train them, and should, in fact, that be the purpose of mass education? One writer, Paul Goodman, in his book Compulsory Miseducation, uses the following argument to question the value of extended education.

It is claimed that society needs more people who are technically trained. But informed labour people tell me that, for a job requiring skill but no great genius, a worker can be found at once, or quickly trained to fill it. For instance, the average job in General Motors’ most automated plant requires three weeks of training for those who have no education whatever. It used to require six weeks; for such automation has diminished rather than increased the needs for training. In the Army and Navy, fairly complicated skills e.g. radar operation and repair, are taught on the job in a year, often to practical illiterates.

The argument here is not that there should be no education for the mass of people, but rather what type of education, and to whom should it be orientated. Goodman argues that it is time we stopped using the word "education” honorifically, and that the present type of compulsory schooling under the present administrators, far from being extended, should be sharply curtailed. He feels that schools should become less institutionalised and much more flexible, with opportunities to return to education in later years as the desire or needs demand.

The purpose of this article is not to oppose the raising of the school leaving age, though it is clear that there has been a lack of preparation to meet the obvious demands this will make on an already overburdened educational system. And there are many in education today who have serious misgivings as to whether reforms like this will be an improvement. Evidence of this doubt can readily be seen in the new books dealing with the aims and values of modern schools, books such as Paul Goodman’s Compulsory Miseducation, Everett Reimer’s School is Dead, Ivan Illich’s work on the school as an institution, and many others searching for alternatives in education. So much of their description is correct, but the prescription is lacking, and while education today is restricting, limiting and narrow in every sense, putting this right can only be done in an alternative society, and for this reason we direct our efforts towards the establishing of Socialism rather than concerning ourselves with advocating or opposing reforms such as the raising of the school leaving age. As a practising teacher, very much in the front line of action, and like so many other teachers up and down the country, I shall endeavour to face the realities of the situation and work out a series of solutions and compromises, at the same time making the extra year as profitable and as enjoyable to the young people in my care as I possibly can. Perhaps one good feature about the whole scheme is that many adolescents are becoming more informed about world problems, and discussion groups within the schools are allowing them to become aware that the solutions to social problems such as war, poverty, unemployment and pollution can only be found through the establishment of a non-competitive society. (We have recently been invited to talk to groups of senior pupils within the schools, and the response to our case is encouraging).

Education in the seventies will continue to develop along the lines that it has for the past century, and to the same purpose, that is producing workers capable of manning the machinery of production and distribution, who are paid in return sufficient wages and salaries to reproduce their energies. The fact that some workers progress beyond this stage is due to their own efforts rather than the educational system, just as it was during the last century in Britain and just as it is today in many of the underdeveloped countries throughout the world. The Times "Turnover” article (29 April, 1964) pointed out that "Strictly speaking the hottest political debates about education are not about education at all. They are about national investment, national competitiveness, social justice and above all class.” The discussion, in other words, is about educational reforms within the context of capitalism. Real freedom and a truly liberal education can only come about in a cooperative and non-competitive society. Socialists look forward to the day when education will be genuinely for the individual, and when the development of creative talents will replace the pre-packeted, mass-training that sadly passes for education today.

Ronald.