A friend of mine teaches in a well-known boys' school. He was cornered recently at a party and questioned rather obsessively about the school's record in the Leaving Cert. The woman was especially keen to establish how many boys went on to medicine and law in comparison with another named boys' school, writes Breda O'Brien
He tried to explain gently that he had no idea, but that he could vouch for the fact that his school prided itself on providing a high level of pastoral care. The woman was unimpressed, and resumed her line of questioning. He eventually lost patience, and asked: "When are you hoping to send your son to us, anyway?"
The woman replied, "Oh, 2016, probably." Her son was six-months-old.
Incidents like this are one of the reasons that teachers come out in hives at the mention of league tables. When the Minister for Education, Noel Dempsey, raised the spectre of league tables again recently, it was obvious that he does not want parents making decisions on the basis of crude league tables which merely indicate the percentage of pupils going on to third-level education. These tables are flawed in many ways, not least because, for some kids, sitting a Junior Cert is a major achievement.
Parents and their desire for information tend to fall into three categories.
Some couldn't care less about the school, so long as the children are happy.
Others are very concerned, because they feel that their child is particularly vulnerable in some way, perhaps because of a learning disability or a history of being bullied at primary level. These parents are anxious to give their child a good start at second level.
Then there are the parents who choose their school, not according to the needs of the child, but by the current level of prestige attached to particular secondary schools. One spin-off from free third-level fees is an increase in the middle classes sending their children to private schools, which is hardly the outcome envisaged by Labour.
So when Mr Dempsey wants to broaden the level of information available to parents to "produce a model of school effectiveness which is both fair and fully rounded", what can we chorus, except, "Yes, Minister"?
Schools have been their own worst enemy in this regard. A wide level of information, for example, the degree of support available for special learning needs, should be readily available, perhaps on the school's own website or prospectus.
That's very different to league tables which take "account of all school-sponsored activities and not just those of an academic nature". Just how does the Minister propose to measure and set up league tables for these factors?
The current furore over the points system would be nothing to the chaos caused by some kind of points system for schools based on their ability to provide a rounded education. Would teaching the guitar get five points but running ECDL computer courses get 15? Who decides? He also wants to take into account the socio-economic background of pupils. We are getting into dangerous territory here. Postal codes are not destiny, though obviously the middle classes usually have a head start. Many working class parents sweat blood to give their children opportunities they themselves did not have. How do you measure that kind of commitment, and factor it into the overall picture of the school?
And does the Minister intend to include the current condition of the school, and the length of time for which requests for further resources have been winging their way into his Department? Will he be allocating points for teaching in rotting pre-fabs and science laboratories which Louis Pasteur would reject as out-of-date?
If you want an example of where school performance tables have had a negative impact, look no further than England. There, students sit standardised attainment tests at seven, 11 and 14 to see if they are meeting the criteria set by the National Curriculum. Attempts are also made to assess the "value adding" activities of a school.
Schools are not just allocated points for results, but for how much overall improvement students have achieved, hence the concept of "value adding". This must be one of the most inappropriate phrases possible to apply to human beings, who are supposed to have inherent value. School performance assessment in England has become a mechanical exercise more suited to marketing than education.
Part of Mr Dempsey's concern about information is to ensure that measures targeted at educational disadvantage are working, and that is perfectly valid. However, concern about standards in Britain led to the current obsession with testing, with the result that more resources and time are given to the nationally-assessed subjects, with other subjects such as art and drama losing out (where incidentally, academically less able students often shine).
Noel Dempsey has implicitly rejected such a mechanical model, but contact with the Department of Education and Science this week confirmed that he has no clear alternative model to propose.
A rounded education often defies measurement. It is a complex mix of history, ethos, location, the pupils, parents, management, and of course, teachers. Whatever society is experiencing will be found in schools. If there is an increase in suicide, there will be hollow-eyed pupils who have lost siblings or parents. If there is an increase in marital breakdown, there will be numb, lost pupils, and angry, disruptive pupils.
Much of the demand for league tables is media-driven. In France, for example, when newspapers started publishing exam results, the French government tried to redress the balance by including a limited range of other factors.
It is a symptom of an age obsessed with information, sometimes to the detriment of wisdom. It is an attempt to exert control by amassing knowledge, but you cannot pick a school as you might a computer, or the latest model of a car, by reading up on specifications and customer reviews. As the woman with the six-month-old son will eventually discover, life has a habit of defying control. Her little boy will no doubt reject her cardboard cut-out plan for his life, and she may well be glad one day he did.
Meanwhile, once Mr Dempsey starts to think through the complexities, not to mention the resources needed for the kind of league tables he wants, the whole idea may be quietly dropped.
bobrien@irish-times.ie