The current notion of having one distant wizard in charge of a cluster of schools sounds terrific. You take five schools currently run by clueless bozos, employ some distinguished genius in red pants, blue tights, big letter S on chest, at a trillion pounds a year and, hey presto, results improve overnight. All five soar up the league table, parents ecstatic, every school in the land performs well above the national average, brilliant.

Unfortunately, the reality would be different. The best heads run schools well because they can combine power, responsibility, unique commitment and insider knowledge. Superheads, even if they manage in a collegial style, will disempower the local head. They must be given ultimate power and authority, or why create them? Theirs is a shared, not a sole commitment to any individual school, so their first-hand insider knowledge will be limited.

The theory sounds fine: give lots of schools the benefit of one highly competent person’s expertise, protect local head- teachers from all the boring bureaucracy and fisticuffs so they can concentrate on running their school more effectively, capitalise on the benefits of size. It sounds like a neighbourhood scheme, each cluster being a tiny local education authority with its own chief education officer.

It is equally possible, however, that creating thousands of weeny authorities is an inefficient way of running schools. Bureaucracy might increase, as more people have to be copied in about management decisions, time is wasted referring key decisions upwards and waiting for a reply rather than making them quickly. Teachers will become Mrs Thingy and Mr Whatsit to people responsible for armies of them, while pupils will be A397 and C421.

Still, this looks to be the future, so here is my guide to superheads and their menials: how to run a cluster of schools, or work in one of the satellites, in 10 easy lessons.

Tips for superheads: 1. To appear to be on top of things, find one tiny detail and query it: for example, “I notice that the daffodils in the entrance hall have died”. It’s guaranteed to frighten the crap out of the locals, who will think you have a complete grasp of the totality.

2. Say “yes” frequently when individuals explain something to you, preferably in the middle of their sentences, suggesting you have a quick mind and are ahead of them; in reality, you are wondering whether your new carpet should be red or blue.

3. Choose one member of the support staff at random and say: “This school would be completely lost without you.” (Supplementary tips: (a) don’t say the school would be lost without “people like you”, too lofty and patronising; (b) make sure you are not talking to the head.) 4. Use the royal family trick of having standard questions, such as “How long have you been here?” Be prepared for the reply, “Didn’t you see the sign saying that all visitors must report to reception and wear a sticker?” 5. Don’t try the old technique of telling people: “I want to know what you think we should do?”, because they immediately say to themselves: “Is this what we’re paying you a hundred grand a year for?” Tips for menials: 1. Learn to interpret the true meaning of superhead-speak: for example, “I’m sorry, I’m terrible on names at the moment, my head is so full of all this administrative rubbish”, really means, “I have absolutely no idea whether you are the window cleaner or the head of astrophysics”.

2. Try calling any bluff, so if the supremo picks up one tiny detail in a long and complex paper, just to impress, respond with, “I’d be interested in your thoughts on the section on page 5 about teaching strategies”. Have a camera ready to capture the facial expression when desperately reading something for the first time.

3. If the superhead ever becomes completely overbearing, practise malicious compliance, that is fulfil what is required, but to the limit: “You did ask for some policy papers, so I just sent the van round becauseI” 4. Say suddenly, as a little joke: “I think you’re in the wrong school. This is Lower Piddlington; Upper Swineshire is the one on the High Street” - worth it just for the resulting look of blind panic.

5. If all else fails, staff should wear their oldest clothes, put shaving foam on face, look wild-eyed and blubber “I can’t stand it any longer”. This will ensure that the superhead only visits other schools in future.