We all have them - the students who, if left unchecked, would spend most of the lesson chattering away, amusing and annoying their peers in equal measure, but either way achieving very little. And so it is in education politics.
As we reach the end of term and the Parliament recess, so many of our principal players cannot, it would seem, resist talking, talking, talking, talking.
And when they’re not talking, their advisers are briefing like mad, puffed up little chickens clucking away with their own self-importance, pecking in the dust of power.
And if that wasn’t enough, there is also the irritating buzz of the fallen former advisers, the unions, the self-promoters, the self-basters … a deafening cacophony of nonsense, all through the medium of Twitter. Yay.
So, in the words of the King, it’s time for a little less conversation and a little more action, please. Justine: I know you feel liberated now you don’t have a gun to your head on grammars and your advisers can brief at will. Nick: yes, you’re back - again (double yay). Amanda: we know you’re not the Dark Lord, but really? (Note: be warned of the “sage” counsel of any former adviser - they always have bitterness coursing through their veins).
Mary, Chris, Russell (yes, Russell, even you) and Geoff: all of you just HUSH for a bit! And to the former advisers trying to stay relevant - yes, I mean you, Sam and Jonathan, in particular: just take a breath. Life has moved on. Everyone else has moved on. Maybe it’s time you did, too.
On governance, we want less Knight and more Nash. And as for freeloading free schools, Toby, your recent “open letter” to No 10 urging ministers not to ditch the policy was ill-informed and smacked of, “Oh crap, my new job just went under…” Instead of shamelessly manipulating the stats to feign policy success, how about engaging with ministers behind the scenes on how to shape the policy to really address the pupil places crisis? Angela, you didn’t win, so stop acting and talking as though you did. Sniping from the sidelines is never a good look. I doubt you’ll ever make secretary of state, but if you want anyone to take you seriously, you’ll need to come up with a manifesto that doesn’t bankrupt us all.
And this next sentence saddens me. But even our hero, Sir David, has fallen victim to the urge to say something - in fact, say anything. What on earth was the national schools commissioner doing, tweeting about some frankly mediocre academy trust results when the Sats came out? Celebrate with us when we truly have hit the ball out of the park - we stand for excellence, not middle of the road. Excellence does not come from the venality of “all must win prizes”. When GCSE and A-level results come round, please just step away from your phone.
So enough of the babble, the clamour, the drivel and the grandstanding. The truth is that all of you are inhabitants of the echoiest of echo-chambers.
The only people listening are those who are waiting to butt in with their own wise words, while the rest of us have to put up with it as a constant soundtrack to our work. So, for the love of God, just stop.
The exception to this heartfelt plea is a deep desire for clarity on funding. This is to you, Justine, and to you, Nick: this is the only thing we want to hear about. Everything else can go hang. And as for everyone else, put down your phones. Ignore the advisers who urge you to “develop your narrative”, or “grow your share of voice”, or other ghastly phrases - it’s all complete balls. We want action, not talk.
The author is the CEO of a multi-academy trust somewhere in England
