Eton College

It's easy to make a political argument that private schools shouldn't be allowed to run state schools with taxpayers' money. That's not my beef today. My concern is much more managerial: Eton is not qualified, on a practical level.

Eton has it easy. The pupils want to learn and parents are supportive. Eton's a selective single-sex boarding school. Most boys go on to university, many to Oxbridge. Parents pony up £30k a year and their sons know it. Eton might look old-fashioned: outsiders see tail suits and exquisite architecture. But it's a bustling meritocracy, a hive of independent activity and pupils want to do well.

It is a remarkable place. Energetic, diligent and focussed on excellence. They learn Chinese and Arabic alongside Latin and Classics. Eton is based on the idea that everyone there must be good at something. Be that sport, study, music, drama, art or just being a bloody good bloke.

To a great extent, discipline comes from the boys themselves. Eton is not totalitarian these days and prefers carrots to sticks. Most boys want to succeed and so they work hard and play within the (none too onerous, but often absurd) rules.

I can't say the same for my time in the state sector. I recall students who simply didn't want to be there. Their aspirations had not been nurtured, they didn't have broad horizons and they would not cooperate. It's a tragedy that it is sometimes easier to let those kids find their low level. Every state school struggles with that dilemma. And Eton doesn't have an answer to dealing with those kids. It doesn't know they even exist.

Teachers at Eton have a standing start. The pupils want to participate. The men and women teachers, beaks, at Eton are learned and distinguished, dedicated and talented. But, and I mean this in no way uncharitably, they have a willing crowd. And I bet the remuneration isn't too shabby either.

When I think of the many good teachers I had in the state sector, few would have had trouble teaching at Eton. And then I consider my Eton beaks. Not that many (indeed very few), would prosper in a state school. Hardly a surprise when the teacher to boy ratio at Eton is 1/9. They would have no idea what to do with a genuine under-performer in need of help, a violent troublemaker or indeed the real rough and tumble of a truly, unruly class intent on chaos. And anyway, if those beaks wanted to teach in the state sector, they would surely have chosen that path.

Most beaks aren't trained teachers. Staff in the private sector don't require a PGCE. So what right would an Eton beak have to tell qualified teachers what to do? I suspect most Eton staff could learn a great deal more from their state counterparts rather than vice versa.

And then there's the money. Eton is staggeringly rich. According to their own figures, the school's original foundation amounts to £200m and that provides 11% of Eton's annual income (but I suspect that Eton's total wealth is far greater than that). Full fees at Eton are £30k a year for boys without a scholarship. The school totals 1300 pupils. For a boy from a state school well pleased with £2000 from the Summer Fayre, this sounds like a lot of money.

But Eton wants more. A recent booklet from Eton says of the income from the original foundation: “this is not enough. An institution of Eton's standing should receive between two and four times as much support from its endowment.” I take this to mean that Eton thinks it needs close to £1bn in investments to keep ticking over. And remember, this is an institution with charitable status. Eton gets generous tax breaks from that.

How would this translate to running a state school? Would Eton give any money from it own enormous wealth? I doubt it. Eton's consideration of a school budget in the state sector would be like NASA realising it could only afford an Airfix kit.

The crux of why Eton shouldn't be allowed to run a state school lies with my heartfelt belief that I don't think they want to. The booklet I mentioned before was called “Keep Eton, Eton.” That is not the name of a manifesto for change. They have resisted the temptation since 1440, so why would it be on the agenda now? Self-interest. They'll do what it takes to retain the massive financial benefits they enjoy from their charitable status.

If Eton takes a state school on, it will be because it makes sense for the mothership. It's not for nothing that anything persists for nearly six centuries without a keen sense of self-preservation.

The clue is in the school's motto: Floreat Etona. Let Eton Flourish. If letting Eton flourish means taking on a state school or two to keep their privileged financial benefits, they will. But the motivation will not be a benevolent desire to run the best of state schools.

I fear that Cameron wants state schools that look like Eton. But without selection, well paided staff and oodles of cash, that's not possible. It's also not attractive. He should concentrate on replicating the most successful state schools we have by funding them properly. But he wouldn't understand that. He went to Eton.

Let’s be clear: I think #hackgate could bring down David Cameron. And if he goes, I can’t really see how the Coalition persists. There would have to be a general election. Not least because the Tories want those Liberal seats they would inevitably gain.

Did anyone ever believe that the flimsy Coalition government had the scaffolding to last five years? Most Tories never wanted an arranged marriage of inconvenience. Not really. For the first year of the Conservative-led coalition, I suspect that Cameron has been, half-heartedly, dismissing those fusty grandees telling him to force the hands of the Liberals.

“Give Cable or Huhne a reason to resign on a point of principle”, I imagined a desiccated Tory saying over a big brandy. “Make them murder this coalition and let’s go to the country and get a Conservative mandate and destroy the LibDems while we’re at it.” They like shooting things, these Tories. They also like metaphors almost as much as me. “Let’s kill two birds with one stone.” Pull!

And until #hackgate came along, there was a strong case for a snap election from a Conservative perspective. A general election in May or June this year would have delivered a majority Conservative government. The Liberals would have been eliminated and the Tories would have taken the majority of their commons seats. Clegg would almost certainly have lost Sheffield Hallam.

Labour would not have made amazing gains in that poll. Labour has been weak for too long. Ed Miliband was still wearing armbands and dipping his toes in the little pool until a few weeks ago. But that’s not true anymore. He’s dog-paddling now (without great skill but decided determination) towards the deep end. The Tories would not barnstorm an election, if it was held this Thursday. But Cameron is at least a strong swimmer, with badges sewn on to his trunks and everything.

Cameron’s pathological lack of substance has been revealed but that isn’t because of Miliband. Cameron looks like he’s made bad decisions and he has yet to seize the initiative or offer a plausible explanation. I think most right-thinking folk could have told him this at the time: he should never have hired Andy Coulson.

Miliband’s next target must be David Cameron. Forget Murdochs various as the bogeymen. Tom Watson and Nick Davies are doing that bit better. Do what has to be done by any Leader of the Opposition: attack the Prime Minister and the government. And keep attacking. And after the attack. Do it again. And again. And just for good measure, keep attacking.

We need to know what David Cameron’s knowledge of Andy Coulson’s involvement phone hacking was. Until we know that, we can’t call for Cameron’s resignation. But I can’t help think the Prime Minister is incredibly vulnerable. And possibly still holding the smoking gun.

There are only two well-worn questions that Ed Miliband needs to keep asking:

“What did the Prime Minister know? And when did he know it?”

“It is absolutely clear that Raoul Moat was a callous murderer, full stop, end of story. I cannot understand any wave, however small, of public sympathy for this man. There should be sympathy for his victims and the havoc he wreaked in that community. There should be no sympathy for him.”

More interestingly, the British government also subsequently contacted Facebook and asked for the content to be removed. Facebook has declined to remove the comments. That’s right. A Prime Minister isn’t a community manager. Here’s why:

- A community manager doesn’t enforce a view. Disagreement is allowed in every online forum. Actually, it’s encouraged. More than that, dissent and plurality is the point. All comers are welcome. A community manager should encourage diverse views, not damn them. Unsavoury opinions are cool. There's something wrong when a community manager censors an opinion simply because he or she disagrees.

- A community manager doesn’t silence conversations. We marshal them. We sometimes moderate them but we always enable debate. But it’s usually the style and the words that we deal with, rather than the content. Threats of violence are right out. Swear words, in most communities, aren’t permissible. Freedom of speech is, generally, golden. Silence isn’t.

- A community manager isn’t a CEO. A Prime Minister is. He or she has more important things to do than meddle with the online discussions. A CEO should leave the moderation of an online community to people who are experienced. It’s hard for a CEO to see that sometimes, but they do need to learn.

- A community manager is accountable but not elected. They should seek approval by being good at what they do and not for currying favour by what they say.

Here are some of my own efforts. Nothing clever. Just a bit childish.

Here's a brace for for Doctor Who fans and lovers of The Divine Comedy.

I paraphrase his reply, but it was unequivocal, slightly venomous and laced with regret. “Never again. John Major and his “classless society” nonsense has seen to that.”

It was exactly the notion of a classless society that meant it could happen again, I argued back. After all, Tony Blair (Labour leader at the time) was a public schoolboy, class politics was on the wane and that meant an Old Etonian (OE) could be Prime Minister. Mischievously, I added that an OE PM need not necessarily be Conservative.

I do remember his withering look and the finality of his response keenly. “Normal public schoolboys perhaps. But not Etonians. Eton is a dirty word. A four letter word. Home was the last.”

It’s probably worth noting that when I had this discussion I was an Eton schoolboy replete with black tailcoat and starched collar. I was (as I indeed remain) a fully paid up member of the Labour party and in a subsequent post I might talk about how a this state comprehensive schoolboy from Brighton ended up at Eton if anyone is particularly interested.

I tittered at Gordon Brown’s recent comment at during Prime Minister’s Question time that David Cameron’s tax policy had been dreamt up “on the playing fields of Eton.” It was funny enough. I wasn’t particularly impressed by Cameron’s response that called it “spiteful”. It was certainly less spiteful a jibe than Tory quips calling former Speaker Martin “Gorbals Mick”. Brown also has the merit of being accurate. Cameron went to Eton. Lord Martin isn’t from the Gorbals.

But what’s surprising is how much coverage Brown’s Eton line generated. For over a week, and even today, it’s still driving comment in the press. A certain rough and tumble is an acceptable aspect of politics. In some senses it’s part of the fun. For Cameron to criticise what he has called “Punch and Judy politics” is like a sewer objecting to shit.

It might be fun, but we don’t learn a lot from it. It was little more than Gordon Brown legitimately pointing out that Tory plans do indeed benefit the rich over the poor. It was also apt in a week when millionaire Old Etonian Zac Goldsmith was criticised for evading tax as a non-dom whilst also seeking election to Parliament.

Equally, the public school jibe doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny. There are plenty of good Labour comrades who went to public school (Attlee, Tony Benn, Blair) and plenty of Tories who didn’t. Not a few Labour figures were OEs, including notably the very great and dogged Tam Dalyell. Attlee’s first Chancellor of the Exchequer in those great reforming Labour governments of 1945-51, Hugh Dalton, went to Eton. (The other two, Cripps and Gaitskell, went to Winchester.)

But I think the Eton jibe was invoking more than just public schools and speaks to the peculiar place Eton holds in the public imagination. As my old beak said (that’s what they call teachers at Eton), it’s a dirty word. It invokes something visceral and reviled. It’s almost a synonym for the ruling class, privilege and aristocracy. It’s not for nothing that the old joke says that Eton should have a sign above the door: “Cabinetmakers to Her Majesty the Queen.” The Queen has worked with 11 PMs. 3 have been old Etonians. 18 in total since Walpole had the school motta ‘Floreat Etona’.

And that’s why Brown’s comment was powerful and potentially effective. It doesn’t do anything for talking up Labour’s achievements but it does raise questions. Can an Old Etonian with substantial personal wealth like David Cameron understand ordinary folk? And it also encourages scrutiny of the extraordinary number of OEs in the Tory ranks.

In this age of post-aristocratic politics, that there are more Old Etonians than women in the Tory top team does deserve greater examination. There are 15 OE MPs. 13 Conservatives. Labour and LibDems have one apiece. They represent something like 7% of all Member of Parliament. (Incidentally, in the House of Lords there are more than 80 OEs.) It’s not difficult to say that it’s too many and that representation on the Tory frontbench is disproportionate.

But what’s the cause? Is it favouritism, a Nietzschean will to power, elitism, misplaced deference, connections, some sort of conspiracy or what? In any case, it’s bizarre and possibly worrying. In my next post, I‘ll write about how I think the nature of Eton as a meritocracy and aspirational environment, its ethos and schooling influences students and encourages its former pupils to go into politics.

(This is the first of several posts where I'll discuss Eton, politics and my experience there. If there’s anything you might want me to cover, do leave a comment and I’ll see if I can squeeze it in. Subsequent posts haven’t been written yet.)