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Progressivism, classroom violence and traditional teaching in English schools in the 1970’s

I thought I would just respond to a recent twitter debate about “dominant ideology denialism”. The idea being that progressive ideologies have dominated education for the last thirty years. Some, including myself, are sceptical. It was suggested by Sue Cowley that perhaps age was a factor. I thought I would explore what has shaped my view and see if it has resonance with others.

Michael Wilshaw often couches this argument as a problem created in the 1960’s and 1970’s .

The lingering effects of failed education policies of the 1960s and 1970s still undermine England’s comprehensive schools, the head of Ofsted, Sir Michael Wilshaw, said on Friday as he called on teachers and parents to “exorcise the ghosts of the past”.

The reality is somewhat different. Teachers who are too young to have been in the education system in the 1970’s will probably not believe the truth that teachers regularly assaulted students in their care. The system was far from progressive. Sadly it seems the tables have turned turned teachers are now routinely the victim of violence. I do not intend for this to trivialise that problem although no doubt some will think that it does.

One of my most vivid memories of secondary school was being hit by a metre rule on the hand. It was a tough school in an area that has since become notorious for race riots in the 1990’s. It has long since been re-badged and replaced. On the particular day, a Geography teacher, raised the ruler above his head and brought it crashing down onto my out-stretched hand leaving a nasty red welt. In all honesty I am as ambivalent about it now as I was then, after all, it didn’t scar me. I share the memory with others with some amusement. Perhaps I should take it more seriously but the practice is long gone Those who engaged in it will no doubt justify their actions in one way or another.

The violence was common place. I was hit with slippers, sticks, rulers, dustboards etc. from the age of eight onwards. This particular incident sticks in the memory because of the circumstances that culminated into what can only be described as legitimised institutional assault. It began as a confrontation between one boy, I shall call him Holland, and the teacher, Mr Wilde.

The dispute centred on the fact that the Mr Wilde enjoyed facts. His homework was often of the nature; collect two hundred facts on India or whatever it happened to be. The particular homework that caused the problem was collect two hundred facts on the “River Nile”.

No doubt there are millions of facts about the River Nile but as a twelve year old the task was daunting but made considerably easier by the fact that it had become clear My Wilde did not mark properly. He skim read homework. We quickly realised that the facts could be; the River Nile is wet or fish pee in the Rive Nile etc. He didn’t seem to notice or care which was, in hindsight, the only way he could continue to teach in such a way.

The recalcitrant student in question, Holland, had a temperament that could be difficult. He simply couldn’t tolerate this kind of homework. Ironically he liked facts but his view was that facts should be treated properly. As a consequence he had become locked into a confrontation with the similarly intractable Mr Wilde. Holland was simply not going to write two hundred facts on the River Nile. He would write “proper facts”.

After every homework the conversation was the same:

Mr Wilde: Smith how many facts have you got for me?

Smith: 227 Sir

Mr Wilde: Splendid boy. Johnson?

Johnson: 167 Sir

Mr Wilde: Simply won’t do Johnson. 200 was asked for and two hundred is what I want. Holland?

Holland: Twenty Sir

( Room erupts into nervous guffawing)

Mr Wilde: (turning a pretty shade of crimson) twelve Holland twelve? Do you take me for a fool. See me after class

In the particular class, in question, there was an air of nervous expectation It had become known that Holland had only collected two facts. As the time came for Holland to announce the sum total of his collective efforts on the River Nile there was a palpable sense of nervous excitement in the classroom.

The moment came:

Mr Wilde: And you Holland how many?

Holland: Two Sir

The classroom erupted with unbridled hilarity at such impertinence. Not since Oliver Twist asked for more has a boy demonstrated such defiance in the face of authority

Mr Wilde’s face drained of colour as he embarked on what could only be described as an episode of apoplectic rage. His face then turned a shade of crimson and finally a bright red.

Eventually he spit out, between clenched teeth:

Mr Wilde: Holland never in my time in the classroom have I met such a difficult child. It is time for action this won’t do (or words that effect)

Unfortunately Mr Wilde was not the kind of teacher to discern himself with the actual culprit of his ire. He had four students sat at the front of his class specifically for the purpose of hitting them with a metre rule whenever he felt that the class, or someone in it, deserved a beating. Unfortunately I was one of the four. Not a bad student by any means but annoying I have no doubt.

We duly lined up to be assaulted and sat back down. The whole episode took up the session and much entertainment was had by all. Mr Wilde enjoyed the ritualistic cathartic assaults or, at least, I hope he did otherwise there was little point to it. Those like myself enjoyed hero like status in the playground and Holland, well, who knows.

I suspect this mini drama was played out in schools across the country at the time. It explains a great deal about the kind of progressivism that came into being in the 80’s and 90’s. It was needed at the time. The question of what aspects of it worked (if anything), what needed improving and what didn’t work is now somewhat irrelevant. Michael Gove having decided that he knows best and has, or is, sweeping away much of whatever progress was made.

I guess you had to be there. If I hadn’t been there I wouldn’t believe it myself. I suppose the moral of the tale is that when you experience “what was” it can change your view on “what is”. Not always but sometimes.

Note

In state-run schools corporal punishment was not outlawed by Parliament until 1987. In private schools, it was banned in 1999 (England and Wales), 2000 (Scotland) and 2003 (Northern Ireland).

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35 thoughts on “Progressivism, classroom violence and traditional teaching in English schools in the 1970’s

  1. Like many of your ilk, you view and portray the education of your yesteryears as some kind of ‘us vs. them’ situation, whereby teachers were assumed to be deliberately cruel or hated children. The fact is, the teacher you deride as typical of traditional education was just a mere human being. Your nose was put out of joint and it seems you have never really let it go.

    I would also be quite angry if a child in my class decided that they knew better about the importance of ‘facts’ and just decided to do his own thing for homework. Perhaps the teacher actually wanted the children to develop a bit of focus and concentration, or to hone their fact-finding skills by actually going to the library, hence the long list request? Perhaps the teacher had quite a few children in your class who struggled with essay writing, so he set a task that he felt all the children could get involved with?

    I, too, attended a school with corporal punishment. In the time I was there, it was only deployed once, reluctantly.

      1. Even if you did hold back on the emotion, I read that as if you were re-living the moment, with all the observations and attendant thoughts of your old, child-like self. Maybe I should read it again, but I could not detect any attempt to look at that situation from different perspectives, or with the wisdom of age and experience.

        Whenever I look back at some kind of bad memory, I try to put myself in the shoes of various different people present in that situation. What usually comes out is a realisation that no hurt was originally intended and that most people, despite their flaws, are just human beings who make mistakes. Your teacher had clearly lost the plot, but you automatically assumed it was because he was some kind of monster.

        Your situation sounds similar to the usual excuses adults give for various aspects of their lives being imperfect because their parents got divorced when they were 7. The general theme being, ‘If all the adults in my life had devoted themselves to my happiness, then my life would be wonderful right now, which is clearly what I deserve.’

      2. Surprisingly enough I did start to re-live the moment. It was more confusing than anything else.

        You are welcome to your opinions though I don’t think they relate very much to my experiences

      3. I tried not to cast aspersions nor to over dramatise it. On the other hand I don’t want to trivialise it for those who suffered. In the end I can only say how it was for me. I was a “northern lad” with a gang of mates and we understood low level violence with the intention of asserting authority or social status. The fact that teachers also played the game made sense to us so weren’t bothered by it. Others no doubt had much worse experiences.

    1. Thank you for your blog edsacredprofane. I’d just finished reading through some comments on my old primary school fb site and did a few searches on violence within 1970s classrooms. Your blog certainly reminded me of a culture i’d hope will never be revived in classrooms. I can understand your humour about this but i don’t think i’ll be joining you anytime soon in a funny interpretation of long division, slaps, shakes and face to face shouting. Who the hell could do that to a shy, frightened child? Ugh!

      My memories of my time at this school are very mixed. I was a child of the 70s and 80s education system and experienced the ‘beat first, explain later’ pedagogy in my primary school. It left me extremely wary of making mistakes in front of anyone which is a handicap to learning – it switches off the ability to absorb information or take risks when faced with certain challenges.

      Thequirkyteacher: it’s curious you’ve interpreted eds comments so negatively. Yes these teachers were also human beings but the culture of unquestioned violence was anything but humane. It sounds as if you were luckier than us and didn’t experience as much of this? Jumping to the defence of adults who controlled children with weapons and ritual humiliation isn’t filling me with confidence. Authority in a classroom is needed; abuse of authority should never be tolerated.

  2. There has been a growing narrative about education that goes something like this: progressive educational theories dominated throughout the 1970s and 80s and have now formed an insidious ideology of poor practice and low expectations. Such narratives, of course, are not without a grain of truth. It’s hard not to read some such accounts, notably Peale’s Progressively Worse, without a wry smile of recognition. His stories of 80s teacher training, with their earnest talk of freeing working class children from the degrading effects of bourgeoise values, of subverting the curriculum, all ring true. I remember these times very well because I was one of those trainees. Now we didn’t all swallow the full kit and caboodle, but we all took on board a shared philosophy about the lesson: it must be exciting, it must have lots of activities, teacher talk is very bad- in fact that was a big no-no. But we hadn’t devoured this philosophy out of naivety, it chimed deeply with our own experiences of school.

    Because let me tell you one thing, schooling in the 1970s was very bloody far from progressive. Every lesson from Y7 to Y11 was a lecture, or copying down endless notes scrawled on chalk boards, the sort that revolve around and around to reveal more notes. The teacher sat at the desk and served one function: to ensure we copied down. I can only remember one or two names of these teachers so thoroughly dull were they, they all morphed into one blob of beard and pipe smoke. Radical assessment methods were flourishing: my English teacher tested us every two weeks and then proceeded to sit us ranked by our relative achievement- best at the front, all the way to the back of the class where the worst sat. This was truly ingenious as it ensured no one wanted to be best or worst-all strived to achieve the middle.

    And then there was the violence. I was first hit by a teacher at primary school. I was a nervous, timid child, in no way a trouble maker and I can’t recall what I had done to deserve being hit on the hand with a ruler- I had probably not answered a question promptly enough. This was the first time of many. And my class mates were treated no differently. It wasn’t one rogue teacher, it was all of them. I recall a friend of mine being kept after school by what would now be our Year 5 teacher. Once all the other students had gone home, this teacher beat my friend. His parents were appalled, complained to the school but nothing was done- the teacher had acted within his power. Children were violent to each other and bullying was endemic. By the time I reached Secondary School, I hated school and feared teachers.

    Once I became a teacher there were many members of staff who had taught through those halcyon days of the 1970s. They would brag to us newbies about how much fun it had been and tell us stories. Stories of holding children, head first, out of speeding school minivans to teach them a lesson. Of knocking a student unconscious with a well aimed board rubber. Of having sex with students as young as the Fifth form because that sort of thing was okay back then.

    So when I trained as a teacher in the 1980s the last thing I wanted was to be like a teacher from my school days. Beyond any reflection of pedagogic practice, that would just simply have been so uncool. But being a social warrior, fighting against the status quo- that was cool! Or at least it was what passed for cool in the 1980s.

    Could it be then that the earnest new crop of traditionalists are really just rebelling against their own schooling? To be one of those soft, wooly thinking, every lesson must be fun, fun, fun, progs is just a joke. We’re cool because we’re focused, we prize knowledge, intellect over emotion, reason over feeling. We’re back to basics, don’t need a gimmick and we certainly don’t need any excuses.

    1. This situation does make me think of an education pendulum swinging back and forth over time. I will admit to being somewhat galvanised by the very situation you describe in your last paragraph.

      You are angry because you were physically hurt and witnessed others being physically punished. I am angry because I was completely denied a good education. My history lessons were a pastiche of various time periods with a focus on ‘skills’. The more I read and find out about my cultural heritage, the more anger I feel that I was never taught these wonderful facts when my brain was in its fact-gathering prime. I feel intense anguish at the fact that I have been left a cultural nomad and am scrabbling to assemble all the knowledge of the best that has been said and done in order to talk to my own children, so that they can then pass some semblance of cultural heritage to their own children.

      1. You keep putting words into my mouth. I wasn’t angry now or then. I agree about the pendulum bit though. I was trying to explain the historical context for what happened next.

        I don’t agree with some of your points but as you say I am one of those “ilk”. Perhaps I am one of those ilk because of my experiences.

      2. I’m not so angry- though I’ll admit that in these sweeping arguments about educationn my experiences seem either to be over looked or changed to something they weren’t. I doubt you and I would disagree about much. Under the sway of that swinging pendulum, you are quite right to say essential knowledge was left untaught and I relate to and share your anguish. Perhaps it’s time to stop batting the pendulum back and forth, learn the lessons of both our histories and focus on what brings us together as a profession, not what divides us.

  3. However, the changes that were experienced in some schools in the 1970s would not have been experienced in all. There is always a period of transition.

    Simon’s comment about ITT lecturers:

    ” with their earnest talk of freeing working class children from the degrading effects of bourgeoise values, of subverting the curriculum, all ring true.”

    How disgraceful that a bunch of middle class people who had an education would deprive working class children in particular of just that.

    People complain about the government getting involved – at least they are elected and accountable via elections, who were these people accountable to? How many working class parents wanted this for their children? How many children with a working class background who had been educated believed this?

    My issue with progressivism is that while some would take this with a pinch of salt, others didn’t. The idea that an academic education is some sort of imposition is not shared by whole sections of society and certainly completely broke with the educational reformers up to that point.

    From the point of view of some middle class trainee teacher who wants to be cool it may seem like you were going to revolutionise education (although who the hell asked you to?) but from my perspective it looks like barely concealed middle class prejudice against working class and poor children while cloaked in the red flag (whose adoption obviously destroys such prejudice).

    I can’t imagine corporal punishment – never happened in my school – neither would I advocate it. But how can any of that justify leaving two generations of working class children, which includes certain ethnic minority groups disproportionality, without a decent education is nothing to crow home about.

    I am not reacting to my own schooling, which was wonderful, but to the idea that anyone had the right to make it less academic because of my social class. Reducing the life chances of a human being can never be justified and it is high time that the progressives looked at the real damage their have done to particular communities and groups in society.

    1. I think that in fact the less academic route CSE’s were not resolved until the 1980’s prior to that few took academic qualifications. Many simply took no exams at all. Thanks for the comment though I think there is a middle ground

      1. Actually our local secondary school (for those who failed the 11+) was pretty good. My (middle) brother took a full range of CSEs & passed with a few grade 1s (considered equivalent to O level) & our sixth form offered places to secondary school kids, straight onto A level courses if they had a few O levels or after a year’s O level catch up if they only had CSEs. They also offered typing courses & similar though I suspect this arrangement wasn’t common.

      2. Indeed there is and I am not happy about ‘forcing’ teachers to adopt particular methods if it doesn’t work. I don’t think lots of written work is going to help children learn in drama any more than I think that understanding multiplication is going to make children recall their times tables.

        The issue of higher and lower tier academic qualifications is one that I don’t have a problem with. Even more so I think that there should be far more choice in terms of qualifications and their link to jobs or sectors. As for academia – its fine to send a small minority rather than the majority there. Not everyone is academic but there is a level of academic knowledge that enables us to function better in a society like ours,

        Ultimately, there are many ‘teaching’ when really what they want to do is look after children. It is easy then to justify the dumbing down of content and poor results.

        In the end, education always has been a means of improving ones circumstances, this can not be thrown on the pyre of misguided ideology – wherever that side of the political spectrum that comes from.

    2. Cracking good argument there. Unfortunately, many would still abuse their power and decide that children should not receive a decent education. It’s funny, too, how many describe an allegedly traumatic education because they were, perhaps, shy, yet the same people are extremely confident adults, happy to perform in front of large audiences and of course actually make a living from being really quite extroverted.

      1. I am really starting to wonder QT who these ‘traumatised’ children are – you know the ones who have been put off writing forever since they were taught ‘too soon’. We need to put more pressure on some of these received wisdoms in teaching – which child, which school, where, are they in a position to give their own testimony on this…. all questions that were never asked.

        Indeed my other half (only half jokingly) talks about a time when he was kept in because he was talking. He is more sensitive than me but the funny thing is his mum and dad were over this weekend. Not only did his mum not know about this or remember it, she enlightened me to the fact that said teacher used to take OH to school and home again as she dropped her own children at the child minders on the road. She cared for him completely and his mum loved her. So did he, he just needs to grow up about that particular incident.

        As I pointed out to him the alternative would not necessarily have been him with the same successes but without that memory, the alternative could have been him without the memory and the successes (I think someone who attended Trinity College Dublin (BSc and Masters), Oxford (PhD) and Cambridge (Post Doc)) can deal with a telling off as a child which reinforced the rules for him and others. He did admit that had she been less firm in her behaviour management, there were many children who might have become disruptive.

        That’s the problem with all of this looking back without a mature outlook – it leads to perceptions that are not always accurate, taking different views into account or why things happen. Fair and unfair are concepts outside and inside us, but the kind of fairness we aspire to is a joint one with others not a personal one that says that everything I do is right and should be validated.

        Ultimately, I do not think it is appropriate for teachers to think that they are above society in some way and this entitles them to be above reproach. My teachers used their freedom to teach to give us the best possible chance of achieving and succeeding, not congratulating themselves on being radical while we passed through their classes unable to read, write or do basic maths.

        Progressives don’t care about children, they care about their ideology, that’s why the damage it does is so easily glossed over. Also it doesn’t affect their own children, just those of others. Those who propagate such ideas do in fact have the level of respect they deserve, it just so happens that it amounts to none at all.

      2. Very eloquently said. It seems people are still quite childish in assuming that a teacher was ‘picking on them.’ And then of course they admit that, during their time with said ‘evil’ teacher, they actually learnt the most.

        Unfortunately, the ‘received wisdoms in teaching’ seem to come with a lot of emotion attached.

  4. I was at school even earlier. Teachers taught basically by telling us stuff which we wrote down. In primary school we had a test each week & were sat in order of where we came in the test. Those who came top at the back & those who came bottom at the front. It was logical I suppose.
    I was at a girls’ junior school & we weren’t hit (to the best of my knowledge). When we amalgamated with a local boys’ school in my final year I know that boys were sometimes caned.

    At 11, at the end of the 60s, I attended what was considered to be a good grammar school in a South Yorkshire mining area. Here the pupils were hit. I remember A maths teacher hitting children (again, mainly boys) on the hand with a ruler for some infringement or other. Teachers threw rubbers (you learned to dodge or raise your desk lid quickly) and one was renowned for making kids who talked too much or answered back suck chalk. If boys forgot PE kit they were made to push the heavy roller up & down the field for the entire lesson (TBH I thought that was pretty reasonable). My OH was caned, he also can’t remember why.

    It’s worth noting that despite it being a grammar school & the use of corporal punishment, behaviour wasn’t brilliant.

    I came out of it all reasonably okay, I was bright & not overtly rebellious. Kids who were less able & biddable weren’t. I got good O & A levels & went to university.

    By the time my younger brother went to the school 11 years later it was fully comprehensive. Maybe he experienced this “progressive” teaching that is spoken of. He didn’t do as well & his exam results were disappointing. He left school at 16 and found work. He’s okay too.

    On that basis, my “traditional” education was good & his “progressive” education was bad. Maybe.

    Things change. Yes, the pendulum is swinging. but surely we can do better than leap from one extreme to the other. There is a happy medium, or maybe (my personal favourite approach) there is room for variety. Let the teaching style be appropriate for the subject, the class, the topic, the teacher, the time of day even. (Do you teach exactly the same way on a Tuesday morning & last period Friday?) Getting upset about being made to incorporate group work in every lesson (My goodness I tore my hair out trying to do for observed lessons) surely ought to make you understand why others, with other beliefs & strengths, will react similarly to being made to include chanting of facts and insisting on children “tracking the teacher”.

    The key is to know your class and what they need in order to learn & progress to the best of their ability.

    Oh and yes. Relationships between teachers & pupils (mainly 6th formers but occasionally younger) were commonplace. Particularly PE teachers for some reason. As were teenage pregnancies (pre pill & pre abortion). (Not sure if that’s relevant but trying to give a full picture)

      1. Also I think that’s true:

        The key is to know your class and what they need in order to learn & progress to the best of their ability.

        And that. In fact at one time in Uni’s it was regarded as a perk of the job:

        Oh and yes. Relationships between teachers & pupils (mainly 6th formers but occasionally younger) were commonplace. Particularly PE teachers for some reason. As were teenage pregnancies (pre pill & pre abortion). (Not sure if that’s relevant but trying to give a full picture)

      2. I suspect I am at heart but oddly, it’s the neo-trad people I end up arguing with. Ultimately I just don’t like “You must all…” approaches. You do what works in the circumstances.

  5. I remember the caning, and the constant copying off the board, and being made to stand up at the end of the year in order of the results we got. But the thing I most remember is a feeling of sheer terror when our teachers screamed at us. We had a rule that when the whistle went for the end of play, there should be silence. And one time I didn’t hear it and I can remember to this day how traumatic it felt for me when a teacher turned on me for my mistake. For a shy, nervous child like me this literally turned me into a school refuser. I would cling onto my mum and sob rather than go into school.

    Our attitudes to children have changed so much over the course of my life, that it is really quite incredible. For me that is the one thing that I really want for my own children – not so much how or what they learn, but that they are able to do so in an atmosphere that feels caring and supportive, and that they never feel the same way that I once did. I’m not sure if that adds anything to the discussion but I think it is worth remembering that children feel emotions far more powerfully than adults.

    1. Where is your evidence that children feel emotions far more powerfully? Yes, you were clearly extremely sensitive, but that was you. Also, you made a choice to take a simple school event (a whistle being blown) and take it personally. Seriously, what did you expect? The whole school abandon a system that ensures everyone’s health and safety just so your feelings weren’t hurt? I remember once crying at being made to hoover my room because the sound of the hoover terrified me, but I don’t carry any emotional baggage into my childhood about how allegedly cruel my mother was. It was ‘one of those things’, rather than an indication that parenting in the 80s was amiss. I still had to hoover my room!

      I think we all need to put things in perspective: challenge, even traumatic challenge, helps us grow as individuals. The fact is, none of us grew up in a war-torn country, nor were we subjected to torture or starvation. None of us has had to raise our own siblings because our parents have been killed because of their religion or race, or had died of AIDs. None of us has been denied an education because of our caste, or sex. None of us has had to endure terrible childhood diseases without access to medicine.

      Some of the most decent, humble and kind people I’ve known have fled the very circumstances I describe above. I went to school with them. Did they moan constantly about their hurt feelings? No. Does this mean that torture or starvation is ok? Absolutely not. But it does mean that if we think a bit of competition in the classroom is some kind of cruel mental torture that needs to be eradicated, then we seriously need to get a grip.

      I truly wonder what would happen if our country experienced the hell of war again, or perhaps economic ruin (it happened to Greece, Spain…..probably Italy next). How would our children cope if we’ve endeavoured to protect their feelings all the time?

      1. Greece is a classic example.

        The economic calamity in Greece is entirely man made. The victims are powerless and many will have done nothing personally wrong. The system is designed to reward those with power it has little regard for those without.

        It would be better to work collaboratively to avoid such calamities. It is exactly the kind of “corrupted” competition that has left Greece in a mess. Aided and abetted by a political power elite in Greece, and in Europe, that feathered its own nest and were prepared to risk inflicting catastrophe on ordinary people.

        Should that happen to the UK there is little that you or I could do to stop it or resolve it once it had happened.

        The better way is to accept that collaboration and co-operation is the future. It is a bit naive to assume that a bit of competition in school can resolve a system that rewards the powerful. Or that the UK is meritocratic. It’s not.

        One way or another Europe will have to collaborate to bail Greece out or Greece will leave because the Greek economy cannot compete within the system that has been designed by Europeans.

      2. Where is your evidence that a bit of classroom competition is the cause of Greek corruption?

        I did not assume that competition in the classroom resolves a system that rewards the powerful; I assumed that competition in the classroom helps build a bit of resilience and character. Are you on some kind of wacky medication?

        Entirely off-topic, but since you raised the issue anyway: I think it might help if the Greeks just learned to pay tax, like the rest of us.

      3. Where is your evidence that a bit of classroom competition is the cause of Greek corruption

        I took your metaphor and ran with it.

        “Are you on some kind of wacky medication”

        No but if I continue this conversation I will be

        “I assumed that competition in the classroom helps build a bit of resilience and character”

        That’s the kind of crap that the powerful tell the cap doffers to keep them on-board

        “I think it might help if the Greeks just learned to pay tax, like the rest of us.”

        Indeed but the global crash was not caused by Greeks not paying cash. That is what the powerful tell the cap doffers to think instead of thinking about who actually caused the crash.

        Did you not do any critical thinking at school?

      4. You’re seriously telling me that a bit of ‘competition in the classroom’ is being used by The Powerful as a way of making ordinary people tow some kind of line and become part of a global conspiracy?

        Thanks for giving me a laugh. Am I a ‘cap doffer’ now? Love it.

      5. I was referring to the wider context of competition and the the fetishisation of the individual.

        I knew the cap doffing thing would entertain you. Always happy to please

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