Dear Thomas,

The dramatic downfall of Matt Hancock has got me thinking. We’ve come to expect scandal in high places but teachers are supposed to be models of restraint and propriety. 

Is this true, though? Reflecting on my 30-year career in schools gave me quite a shock. 

In truth, colleagues getting embroiled in some kind of shock-horror situation has been a constant feature. I wonder if teachers are more prone to dramatic lapses than other professional people. What do you think? 

Farhad Froushan 
Hemel Hempstead 

Are teachers judged more harshly than other professions? 

Dear Farhad, 

That’s quite a thought. Behind every scandal lies a tragedy, or at least a sadness (or, in some cases, not one single shred of remorse or regret). 

For the onlookers, emotions can be intense and often dubious - perhaps we have gleeful delight in the misfortunes of others, a feeling of moral superiority or treat the whole thing as if it were a thrilling TV spectacular. 

Back in the 1980s, when corporal punishment had only recently been made illegal, there were quite a few teachers who found it difficult to wean themselves off the practice or simply refused to do so. I was present at a staff meeting where the subject was being discussed in a general way, when suddenly it was apparent that there was flaring tension between the headteacher and a male PE teacher, who had a ferocious sergeant-major air, complete with jutting jaw and permanent pugilistic stance. 

Some snappy words were exchanged, and then the head said: “I seem to remember in your case…” thereby exposing to the rest of the staff that the tracksuited bruiser had been up on a charge of hitting a child. Ironically, it was as if the head had slapped the man. He shouldn’t have said it, of course.

What I found astonishing was not simply that these things happened but that the culprits all “got off”. It turned out later that there were others - also men in tracksuits - guilty of the same thing, who had somehow remained in post. 

A friend of mine was a governor of a private school somewhere. There were some irregularities in the accounts, and he made the sad discovery that the one person everybody adored and admired in the school had been forging signatures on receipts. 

Then there was the case of Colleen McCabe, which you may remember received a lot of publicity back in the early 2000s, largely because she was a former nun. As the headmistress of St John Rigby School, she had spent £500,000 of school funds on luxury items for herself, particularly shoes. She was jailed for five years (Pauline Quirke played her in a 2006 TV docu-drama called The Thieving Headmistress). 

Often, it is either sex or money, or both. Two women I know were in relationships with their headteachers, in one case leading to marriage. They were set up in a flat by the young woman’s parents. That was another scandal, making the national papers nearly 50 years ago. 

A huge onslaught of gross misconduct charges

There’s also “gross misconduct”. This is a sacking offence, which, it seems to me, you could commit without fully realising what you were doing - not necessarily involving sex or money, but lying, insubordination, absence without leave, etc. 

In one school where I was working, there was a huge onslaught of gross misconduct charges. Such was the drama that it was impossible, after a while, to remember what, exactly, these teachers were accused of. 

I wonder if you’ve ever been in a school that has been the subject of press attention. I have. Back in the late 1980s, reporters from The Sun roamed up and down the school boundary for an entire afternoon, trying to poke £10 notes through the fence in return for titbits from the pupils. That was a scandal in itself. 

A local paper had somehow got to hear of a nasty incident where some Year 10 girls had kidnapped an under-grown boy of the same age, removed his clothes and taken photographs. The Sun was interested. The story they ran turned the whole thing into a “nudge-nudge wink-wink, what-a-lark” bit of comedy. 

So I can certainly agree with you. From my own experience, schools tend to have more than their fair share of scandals. Whether teachers have a special propensity for getting into hot water, I couldn’t say. 

Does power go to the head, as with politicians? Do those who make and administer the rules have a special urge to break them? Is it the strain and loneliness of office? Or simply the opportunity? 

Corruption seems to be in the air that politicians breathe. Everybody takes this for granted. One who isn’t contaminated is considered a rare phenomenon. 

But it could just be that the misdemeanours of those who are supposed to set an example are all the more fascinating and rewarding. The world of whiteboard manufacturers may be equally rife with scandal but it wouldn’t be anything like as thrilling to know about. 

Eccentric teachers: the follow-up

What to do about eccentric teachers? Response to last month’s Life Lessons on this topic suggests that the eccentric teacher has not entirely died out as a species. 

I’ve heard of some intriguing living examples. One teacher refused to be parted from her desk, although it had a leg missing. In fact, its compromised condition was the reason for her devotion to it. She had lovingly propped it up with books. 

Eventually, her head of department forcibly removed the item of furniture on health and safety grounds, causing great distress to the teacher. 

Another teacher created, in his classroom, a kind of den, stacked with boxes of goods for sale - quite to whom is not clear - as well as cuddly toys and books, which, surprisingly, were not for sale. 

A third teacher had a strange ritual with her shoes: Monday’s shoes she would leave in the classroom, going home, perhaps, barefoot. The next day she would add Tuesday’s shoes to the display until, by Friday, a full five pairs were lined up. Then she would take them all home, ready to begin the whole routine again the next week. 

Thomas Blaikie was a secondary English teacher for 25 years. He is author of Blaikie’s Guide to Modern Manners (4th Estate)

Do you have a problem you’d like Thomas Blaikie to address? Send it to tes.lifelessons@gmail.com