Hugh Reilly: Flying by seat of our pants on a far from excellent adventure

Published on Tuesday 24 March 2009 20:18

IN 2,550BC, a credit crunch threatened to bring work on King Khufu's pyramid at Giza to a grinding halt.

According to contemporary sources, the slave labourers were remarkably upbeat, despite the looming threat of job cuts in the construction industry. Hauling slabs of rock up a ramp all day and every day could be tedious: indeed, some grumblers among the workforce opted for voluntary redundancy, or, as we would call it today, suicide.

When harnessed to a rope and pulling a ton of limestone up a one-in-five gradient, it was important see the big picture, that you were part of something that would be a wonder of the world.

Keir Bloomer, a key architect of the Curriculum for Indolence – sorry – Excellence, claims the education initiative will not be implemented in our lifetime because the government has made "no serious attempt to sell the big picture". Apparently, we just don't get it.

If the Curriculum for Excellence (CfE) were a TV programme, Mr Bloomer would be watching it on a 60in plasma HD screen, while the rest of us squint at a six-inch, black-and-white portable.

Mr Bloomer has certainly changed his TV tuner. He was part of the 2004 review group responsible for outlining the reforms and described the original vision as "barbarously written, ill-organised and an intellectually shallow document".

It comes as no surprise that only those deluded individuals who speak of "visions" can see the big picture, where classroom teachers see only scrambled lines posing as advances in education.

The CfE is the Millennium Dome of Scottish education. Countdown to its implementation is just over one academic year away, yet Philip Rycroft, director general for education and lifelong learning, admits: "We are not there yet. We are at a swivel-point just now."

Call me a malcontent, but flying by the seat of your pants is hardly sound education policy. The woolliness of the CfE document suggests it was written by people with loyalty cards for Amsterdam cannabis cafs. Trying to uncover the mystery of CfE is like ogling a dance of the seven veils, only much less of a turn-on, I'm assured. A glimpse of the future will be revealed when the outcomes and experiences for all subjects are published on 2 April (at least someone in authority had the foresight not to publish it a day earlier).

But to maintain the suspense for the chalkies who will deliver this new curriculum, it will be summer when the government launches its assessment and qualifications framework.

The awkward squad – that vociferous cabal of teachers demanding answers to pesky questions such as "what are the new qualifications" and "what assessment system will be used" – are upsetting Fiona Hyslop, the education secretary. She told a Glasgow conference: "Teaching is a four-year degree profession for a reason, and part of that is the ownership it gives teachers. If they can't take the steps forward, then there might be questions as to why it is a degree programme. In medicine or law, they don't ask for a route-map."

Unfortunately, her analogy stands up as firmly as a house of cards on a washing machine during the fast spin cycle. Lawyers don't make laws; they work with existing legislation laid down by government. And, if we exclude Herr Josef Mengele, doctors don't experiment on patients – innovations are thoroughly researched, peer reviewed and piloted before introduction.

To add to the circus, a travelling troupe of 100 senior teachers will be seconded to roll out the new curriculum. These stooges will doubtless implore colleagues not to fret over issues such as scarce resources, tight timescales and lack of clarity. It is, they will say, a journey to excellence.

To many of us, it is a journey into the unknown.