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Thank you to everyone who voted in the last poll. This was the clear winner, the government’s pre-white-paper-paper on the future of the British School System.

It was tricky to do, because this isn’t the kind of paper that has any prac­tical solu­tions for schools — that’s due to land soon. Instead it’s all about the Government’s vision for the school system. But the earlier you can influ­ence these things, the better, I say, so if you see anything that doesn’t seem quite right, or there are glaring gaps, feel free to let the Department for Children, Schools and Families know.

If you spot any errors, it may well be my fault, as I’ve said before these are Totally Unofficial trans­la­tions, so I’m happy to correct any you notice, or point you to the line in the real paper that says what I’ve translated!

Read it here:
21st Century Schools

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Business & Legal schools future of british sc
Warning: contains politics!

What does the word ‘open’ mean to you? To me it’s linked with a few things — it means some­thing that everyone can get hold of and get involved in, that everyone can see how it works, and that is open to people’s feed­back, and their criti­cism. It shows you exactly what you’re going to get, and how you’re going to get it. However, to me this is more or less the opposite of what the govern­ment are proposing White Paper (that’s the kind of paper they put out to show their big ideas before they talk about them in more depth) on Open Public Services — for a good number of people in the UK they could be shut­ting the door and locking it.

Why? Firstly, the paper explains that the UK’s poor are suffering because of a lack of decent services in their area. Not many people would dispute that — it’s abso­lutely true that for health­care and educa­tion, where you live massively affects the quality of the services you have.

Secondly, the paper sets out the areas the govern­ment wants to improve and sets out a number of ways it thinks it can achieve:

  • ChoiceWherever possible we will increase choice.
  • Decentralisation – Power should be decent­ral­ised to the lowest appro­priate level.
  • Diversity – Public services should be open to a range of providers.
  • Fairness – We will ensure fair access to public services.
  • Accountability – Public services should be account­able to users and taxpayers.

All very nice. However if the govern­ment really want to do what they promise to do at the very begin­ning of the paper and bring real choice and great services to poor areas, what they propose simply does not go far enough, and in my opinion could leave the poor and vulner­able even more exposed to bad prac­tices and unfair­ness than ever before.

A big part of their plan is about encour­aging busi­nesses to fight against each other making them more effi­cient or better at health­care, or educa­tion, or running a care home. Fair enough, that might work where there are enough people to support loads of companies, but what about where there aren’t? In the coun­tryside, for example, or on a run-down estate where having two corner­shops just means one quickly goes out of busi­ness — a choice of one isn’t really much of a choice.

There are other examples of ways this paper disad­vant­ages people outside of a certain income bracket or even a post­code, for example the govern­ment wants the UK citizen to do almost everything online, a crushing disad­vantage to people who can neither get nor afford broadband.

But the main thing that occurs to me is that in places that have this real lack of choice, you could get some really concerning things happening. The govern­ment has already shown itself to be broadly in favour of things like faith schools — what if they were your only choice for educating your child? And what if health services followed suit, leaving your area’s only sexual health advice centre in the hands of a rigidly ‘pro-life’ or anti-gay company.

The paper talks about places you can complain to, certi­fic­ates for companies offering services, low levels of support for people who can’t afford treat­ment or care, and a promise that companies will have to look after the disad­vant­aged just as much as those who can afford to pay on their own, but they’re being very vague about what any of that means.

So I urge you to tell them that poorer and less popu­lated areas need more protec­tion than they’re offering, that choice should always mean real choice, and not the lesser of the remaining evils, and that fair in areas that can’t afford choice could well mean keeping existing services in place and giving them what they need to offer the people they look after the best possible care, educa­tion and advice.

I’m sorry, the title lies. Not just once, but twice. Why? Because there’s only five things you have to do to write plainly, and you don’t have to remember much at all — in fact, it’s better to forget.

Because once you’ve got the hang of head­ings, bullets and the differ­ence between passive and active voice, all those things that any decent plain language course, book or website will teach you, you’re still left with a whole lot of baggage that can stop you in your tracks, and slowly and subtly convince you that your way was best after all.

So, these are the things you have to forget. They’re not easy to hear, so sit down, make some tea, then take a deep breath before you read on.

  1. Forget your educa­tion. Okay, maybe not the bits about grammar and spelling, but defin­itely the bits where you started to assume that using long words and complic­ated phrasing was just… better. More soph­ist­ic­ated, maybe. Erudite, even. A sign of intel­li­gence and under­standing. I’ve had quite a lot of educa­tion. I went to Oxford University until they kicked me out, and I’ve been to two more univer­sities since. Then I started volun­teering — helping people learn to read, and guess what — none of that helped. So I hate to break it to you, but if you want to reach people who are not you and your simil­arly educated friends, you need to forget.
  2. Forget your assump­tions. Just because someone can’t under­stand the words you use and the way you use them does not mean they can never under­stand what you’re trying to say. Very little is too complic­ated except that we make it so. 
  3. Forget gloss­aries. Treat them as an admis­sion of failure — that you don’t under­stand your subject well enough to be able to explain it without one. 
  4. Forget writing for writing’s sake. Write for reading’s sake. If you can’t read it aloud and feel right saying it, some­thing needs changing. 
  5. Forget your bosses. You are not writing for them. Go out and find the people you are writing for and talk to them. Find their level. Forget repres­ent­at­ives too, except when they can put you in touch with the real deal.