The Oracle of Peckham

If Del Boy were installed as a government adviser, says Kevin Harcombe, we’d have fewer plonker policies...

Michael Gove is not a bad person. He genuinely believes his policies will deliver a better deal for the nation’s children. Only time will judge whether he is right. I do think, though, that some of his – and his Labour predecessors’ - more barmy pronouncements fail to instil public confidence in governmental judgement. Perhaps what is needed is better advice for ministers. In Ancient Greece, those seeking advice would visit the Oracle at Delphi, though the Delphic Oracle’s advice was often couched in incomprehensible language or riddles. Maybe that’s where the civil service get their technique from. What is needed, given recent accusations that the coalition government is out of touch with ordinary people, is an Oracle who represents the ordinary person. Why not set up Del Boy Trotter as the final arbiter of whether a policy makes sense or not?

Policy makers could pilgrimage to Nelson Mandela House to seek the advice of the Oracle of Peckham. “Should we give schools and headteachers greater autonomy?” they query, tremulously, at the feet of the great man clad in his sacred sheepskin. In reply would come the approving, “Loverly jubbly!” Buoyed by this, the policy maker might further enquire, “And, oh great Oracle Del, what words of wisdom do you speak in relation to free schools?” only to quiver at the thundering reply, “You plonker!”

It couldn’t be much worse than the current system. Perhaps it has already started, for a sensible policy directive has recently been issued, giving headteachers control over homework policy.

Researchers and educators have known for years that most homework is a complete waste of time, adding little educational value and promoting stress in family life. Your child asks for help with homework and then doesn’t listen because you’re not their teacher. If you have more than one child it takes up the whole bloody weekend and then, when you’re looking forward to a special sticker for your efforts, the shiftless teacher doesn’t even mark it. Why do I bother? Whenever Ofsted asks parents their views on homework at a particular school, half complain there is too little (they’re the ones who get special stickers) whilst the other half complain there is too much (they’re the ones who don’t). Homework is often thoughtlessly set, seldom well-marked and often meaningless. Look at these recent examples:

• 1. If a pasty at 27 degrees Celsius costs £2 but rises to £2.40 when the temperature is increased to 86 degrees, what is the difference financially when you have just received a 5% reduction in the tax on your £150k salary? What is the difference for a pensioner whose tax benefits are frozen?
• 2. If a serious shortage of petroleum is rumoured (by government ministers) to occur should you:
  a) Panic buy fuel
  b) Stockpile jerry cans of fuel despite the potentially fatal consequences
  c) Use a retired police horse to get the kids to school, or
  d) None of the above
• 3. How low should people coming out with this nonsense hang their heads in shame? (Answer in kilometres.)

At primary level, learning new spellings is reasonably useful, whilst times tables are enormously beneficial. In later life they will help children calculate things like VAT on hot pies and the interest on the huge debts they incur by prolonging their education to degree level. The most invaluable homework, though, is reading: read fiction, history, science; read sports reports, magazines, newspapers; read internet stuff. Time reading is time well-spent. It educates, informs and entertains. Reading is good for you. It is the only homework worth doing. Loverly jubbly!