How would you feel if your children were quietly moved to the back of the classroom for 30 minutes every day? Treated as outsiders? Endured rather than embraced, tolerated rather than treasured?
This is the experience of many non-religious and minority faith pupils in our schools. The discrimination they face is baked so hard into our education system that their very existence is barely acknowledged. Our schools are inclusive, we are told, despite ample evidence to the contrary.
As the State struggles to wean itself off the long legacy of private religious control of publicly funded education, society itself has changed beyond recognition. Recent decades have seen a sharp decline in religious belief and practice, and far greater freedoms in how we choose to live and love.
Last year’s marriage figures from the Central Statistics Office (CSO) offer a useful barometer of modern Ireland. Civil and humanist ceremonies accounted for 35 per cent of all marriages while 40 per cent were Catholic. Non-religious marriages have increased sharply since the 1980s and actually outnumbered Catholic marriages in 2020 and 2021.
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These trends matter in education because they reflect the demographic with the most skin in the game. The majority of babies here are still born within marriage, and many unmarried parents go on to tie the knot. CSO marriage reports therefore give us a snapshot of the religious preferences of today’s parents and allow us to draw inferences about how they might wish to raise their children. However, the freedom of conscience they enjoy on their big day is soon lost at the school gate.
‘Opted-out’ pupils typically remain in the classroom and often sit alone, feeling isolated and excluded while absorbing the lesson regardless
Irish education is synonymous with religious evangelism. It soaks into every pore of the curriculum, from relationships and sexuality education (“puberty is a gift from God”) to literacy, music and art. A recent reading exercise in a Co Cork primary school asked pupils to unscramble words such as “crucify”, “tomb”, “cross”, “angel” and “disciple”. This is the integrated curriculum in action, a form of subliminal messaging designed to reinforce daily periods of formal religious instruction. Sacramental preparation ties up teachers for weeks at a time, whatever their personal beliefs, while prayers, masses, visits from clergy and diocesan inspections are par for the course.
Parents complain that their constitutional right to withdraw their children from religious instruction is illusory. “Opted-out” pupils typically remain in the classroom and often sit alone, feeling isolated and excluded while absorbing the lesson regardless. This could be one child in some classes, or even the majority in others. The Department of Education provides no guidelines here, it does not collect data on the number of children affected, and it has not it issued a circular requiring schools to comply with section 62(7)(n) of the Education (Admission to Schools) Act 2018 by setting out their arrangements for these children in their admissions policies. There has been no enforcement of this provision whatsoever, in fact. It has simply been quietly ignored.
A drive that began under former minister for education Ruairí Quinn in 2011 sought to transfer some schools to more inclusive forms of patronage. The divestment initiative, since rebranded as schools reconfiguration for diversity, quickly ran in to the sand. The wheels have been spinning ever since. Ninety-five per cent of Irish national schools remain firmly under the control of religious organisations, with 89 per cent run by the Catholic Church. Fewer than 20 schools have changed patron since the process began.
The handful of success stories have also come at a price. Bishops are now being paid rent under lengthy lease arrangements for each school they hand over. The sums involved have not been disclosed. This is despite the recommendation from the advisory group to the Forum on Patronage and Pluralism that the State take a “cost-neutral” approach to any transfers of patronage, given the limited resources available at primary level. These leases will saddle taxpayers with a recurring bill for every school that reconfigures, without adding a single additional place.
More worrying than this wasteful spending, however, is the flawed “school choice” model itself. Human and constitutional rights are universal. The ability to effectively exercise them should not come down to car ownership, geography and luck. Families are expected to either endure a regime of coercive evangelism at their local school, or try to access their rights elsewhere in a multi-denominational one. And the Government’s 2030 divestment target – should it eventually be met – will only increase the provision of multi-denominational schools from 5 per cent to 13 per cent of all school stock.
This strategy is not credible, sustainable or cost-effective. In an increasingly pluralistic society, it is simply not acceptable to wilfully disregard rights that are enjoyed in every other sphere of our lives.
The long-troubled relationship between Church and State is increasingly a marriage of inconvenience
Education Equality believes that religious faith formation should be removed from the curriculum in State-funded schools and instead offered on an opt-in basis outside core hours. This could be implemented quickly through primary legislation without the need for a referendum. It would benefit families as well as teachers, who are currently contractually obliged to impart their patron’s programme even if it runs contrary to their own conscience.
We had a productive engagement with former minister for education, Richard Bruton, that helped to end the so-called Baptism barrier in school admissions. The current Minister, Norma Foley, has been unavailable to meet us to date. Our door remains open.
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Reluctance to address this issue is perhaps understandable. The Catholic Church enjoys a status in Irish public policy that has long gone unchallenged by government, despite the best efforts of civil society and advocacy groups. But there is a growing consensus, from educators and children’s rights organisations, to domestic and international oversight bodies, that our education system breaches human rights. As the affected demographic grows, so too does the political risk of inaction.
When it comes to education, Ireland remains a theocracy masquerading as a republic. A place where the rights of children and teachers alike are more notional than real. And where the long-troubled relationship between Church and State is increasingly a marriage of inconvenience.
David Graham is communications officer with Education Equality