Kristina Murkett

In 2023, I wrote an article about the epidemic of bad behaviour plaguing British schools, blaming screen-obsessed kids and tuned-out parents for the rise in persistent low-level disruption since the pandemic. At the time, almost half of pupils said that they felt unsafe each week because of poor behaviour: a worrying but unsurprising statistic given the rise in permissive parenting styles means that behavioural boundaries are never properly established. Too many children never learn to properly respect teachers because their will always overrides the authority of the adults (or, dare I say it, adult) at home. Three years on, and little seems to have changed; in fact, things have worsened.

As a parent of an 18-month-old, the glorious weather last weekend could mean only one thing: a tour of the various playgrounds on offer in Oxford. Amidst the joyful scenes of children digging in sandpits, rocketing down slides and queueing to buy ice creams, there was one particularly depressing image that summed up this strange, screen-obsessed world we live in. On the swings was a child, around 3 or 4-years-old, silently swaying back and forth, eyes glued to an iPad mere inches from his face. He was completely oblivious to the fun, laughter and play going on around him, and his mum? She was on her phone too, of course. This eerie, almost dystopian image of a toddler fixated on a screen, outside on the sunniest day of the year, may seem like an extraordinary exception.

As I try to wrestle my 15-month-old son into a nappy, or stop him from throwing himself down an escalator, or teach him not to spear himself with a fork, I remember that slightly lesser-known Winston Churchill quote: 'I am always ready to learn, although I do not always like being taught.' It appears, however, that children are increasingly not ready to learn, and parents increasingly dislike doing the teaching. The results of the annual survey of primary school teachers are not just mildly depressing reading on a rainy January day: they are a stark and shameful indictment of the failures of so many parents. Teachers claim that 37 per cent of children starting reception class are simply not ready, the highest on record.

Historically, home-schooling has been seen as a niche or eccentric choice of education: an option only really considered by hippies, conspiracy theorists, religious fanatics or socially awkward geniuses. Its reputation has not been a positive one: critics argue that home-schooled children are at risk of abuse and radicalisation; that it is a form of social imprisonment, keeping students away from their peers; and that it is more about pleasing over-protective, paranoid parents than doing what is best for the child. Banning home-schooling is not the answer Not anymore. Despite the stigma, an ever-growing minority of parents are choosing to home-school their children: 175,000 students were home-schooled in 2024/5, an increase of 15 per cent from the previous year.

All parents and teachers of teenagers will know two things. The first is that teenagers are the human equivalent of seismometers when it comes to perceived unfairness: they are acutely sensitive to any injustice or unequal treatment, and if they feel they are not being treated the same as their peers, this can quickly erupt into an outburst of outrage or denial. The second is that, try as we might, parents and teachers are not cool. We are not cool at the best of times, but we are definitely not cool when we are telling teenagers not to do something – and there is always the risk that lecturing them about how dangerous or transgressive something is only makes it all the more appealing.

The University of Nottingham, one of the most prestigious Russell Group universities, is preparing to close its languages department, as well as 48 undergraduate courses across music, nursing, agriculture, theology, microbiology and education. It seems strange that at an institution which claims to be a ‘global university without borders’, students will no longer be able to study French, German, Spanish, Chinese or Russian. My reaction to this news is one of head vs heart. My head tells me that in order to survive and provide high-quality education, universities need to be solvent, and so perhaps this is a pragmatic decision – a hard one, but one that reflects our hard times.

It appears that Labour is determined to ensure that choice in education is only for those who can afford it. The government has just announced that it is slashing funding for the International Baccalaureate (IB) in state schools, meaning the qualification may now only be offered in the private sector. What choice do parents of these children now really have? Just like the mid-year cancelling of the Latin Excellence Programme, this is yet another example of Labour’s utilitarian fear of excellence and difference. The IB Diploma differs from A-levels in that it is a much broader course: rather than studying three subjects post-16, pupils study six.

The English have always had a terrible reputation when it comes to learning languages. Think of the stereotype of the sunburnt Brit abroad butchering ‘una cerveza, por favor,’ or P. G. Wodehouse’s description of the ‘shifty hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to talk French.’ It appears, however, that our monolingualism is worse than ever, at least in schools. New data has revealed that a third of state sixth-forms in England do not have a single person studying French, German or Spanish A-level – in the West Midlands the rate was as high as 47 per cent. The requirement to study a language at GCSE level was scrapped in 2004, and since then entries have plummeted: the number of pupils taking French GCSE has dropped by two thirds in two decades.

This week, we had a rare example of a family-friendly policy coming into effect: working parents of children aged 9 months or over will now have access to 30 hours of free childcare a week during term time. I should be elated by this news: I went back to work part-time after 11 months of maternity leave on Monday. My son is now at a childminder 3 days a week, and so this policy is saving me roughly £360 a week (a full-time nursery place in Oxford, where I live, will easily set you back £2,000 a month without any funding).  Yet my feelings are mixed at best. Partly this is because I know that the government has promised the moon but has in reality only paid for a small asteroid.

What’s the best thing about teaching? July and August! Or so the old joke goes. The long school holidays are an easy riposte to teachers’ complaints about the profession. Below inflation pay rises? At least you get the school holidays. Lack of flexible working opportunities? Six weeks off over summer. Disruptive behaviour? At least you don’t have to see the rugrats over Christmas and Easter. Teaching is clearly a labour of love, but it is not an inexhaustible one. Shortening the summer holidays would be a disaster No-one really wants to hear it, but most teachers still feel a knee-jerk need to justify their summer holidays: to explain how hard they work; the hidden hours of marking, planning, report-writing; the free time lost to parents’ evenings and away sports fixtures.

Imagine you are the parent of a primary-school aged boy. Outside of family, how many men do you think your son would interact with, compared to women? The answer is unlikely to be balanced. In the UK, 98 per cent of childminders and nursery workers are female - as well as 99 per cent of health visitors, 87 per cent of social workers, 79 per cent of librarians, 96 per cent of speech therapists, 89 per cent of nurses, 58 per cent of GPs, 61 per cent of paediatricians, and 63 per cent of youth club workers. Your son is unlikely to come across many men at school either.

They say that history repeats itself, but the Labour party won’t be expecting it to happen quite so quickly. Last week, a ‘Starmtrooper’ rebellion forced the government to make a series of last-minute concessions and compromises on its welfare bill for fear of a humiliating defeat in the House of Commons.  Now, Labour is facing a similar battle, but this time over special educational needs (SEND) provision. MPs are criticising ministers’ refusals to rule out cuts as part of its SEND overhaul, the details of which will be unveiled in the autumn. As one Labour MP warned, ‘if they thought taking money away from disabled adults was bad, watch what happens when they try the same with disabled kids.

In his book Selfish Reasons To Have More Kids, economist Bryan Caplan notes that, due to modern conveniences and our better quality of life, parenting should be easier than ever. Plus, in theory, as society grows richer, people should have more children. Instead, we have fewer, and parenting seems harder than ever.  Why is this? Caplan argues that it is because we have placed many new requirements and expectations on parents that previous generations never had. He contends that parenting has morphed into a suite of ever-changing, high-pressure social obligations – many of which are neurotic, consumerist and status-obsessed, such as saturating your child’s timetable with extracurricular activities to ensure that they are never bored.