This is another All Change Please! story about the entirely fictional Mr Glibbly. The previous one can be found here.
As you know, Glibblys are well-known for the often thoughtless and superficial things they say in a smooth and slippery sort of way.
It was one of those delightful crisp, sunny winter mornings, but Mr Glibbly was not feeling very happy. He had not had a good week.
To begin with, the latest school league tables and lack of progress 8 statistics had been released. They showed that the number of under-performing schools had risen. That wasn’t good news, was it? The problem was that on no account could he admit that the reason for this was he had forced children to take EBacc subjects that were not at all appropriate for them.
Mr Glibbly had to think hard. Very hard. Then suddenly he had an idea! Instead he would announce in his usual glibbly sort of way how important and good it was that the number of children studying the important academic EBacc subjects had risen! Of course he didn’t mention that as a result more children had failed their exams. Sneaky Mr Glibbly…
Oh well – it could have been worse – at least he didn’t blame the teachers.
However it was what happened next that really upset Mr Glibbly.
“Soft skills are very important”, announced Mr Hindsight, very succinctly, and with great hindsight. Mr Damian Hindsight was the new Secretary in a State about Education, and therefore Mr Glibbly’s new boss. Apparently Mr Hindsight once went to a Grammar school himself and therefore knew everything there was to know about teaching and learning and running successful schools.
Poor Mr Glibbly. He nearly choked on his cornflakes when he read it in the morning paper over breakfast. ‘Holy Sk***!’ he cried out in horror.
Mr Glibbly was no softy. He didn’t approve of letting children learn any skills, and least of all easy-peasy soft skills. ‘Skills’ was not a word he felt at all comfortable using. He’d ban it altogether if he could.
Thanks to a book about some small-scale, unreliable educational research he’d once read, he knew without doubt that first children needed to master the learning of all the knowledge that exists in the entire world. Off by heart. And how to write long essays about it in the school hall on a long, hot summer’s day.
This made Mr Glibbly have to think hard yet again. Very, very hard this time.
After a while he came up with an idea, and he decided to hastily re-write part of the speech he was due to give the next day.
“…the best way to acquire skills is through gaining knowledge”, announced Mr Glibbly, rather glibbly. As was his way.
He wasn’t quite sure what this meant or how this actually worked, but it made him feel a lot better. And it made it sound like these sort of superior knowledge-related skills were completely different from those so-called ‘soft-skills’ or ’21st century skills’ that he so detested, probably because he didn’t have any himself.
Mr Glibbly breathed a great sigh of relief. “Phew! I’ve got away with it!” he thought to himself as he walked home that night. It was a long way, and he wished he had learned how to ride a bike as a youngster. Unfortunately though he could never quite manage to bring to mind all the theoretical physics and correct formulae involved, and so he had just kept falling over.
But then the very next day the excellent Laura McInerney, who is someone who really does know something about teaching and learning and running schools, published a ‘must read’ article that revealed and made considerable fun of exactly what he had done. What a silly Mr Glibbly she had made him look!
And now everyone is hoping that perhaps before too long, Mr Glibbly will be using his own knowledge-based skills to find himself a new job. And preferably one that has nothing at all to do with education.
It seems perhaps there might just be some benefit of Mr Hindsight? We shall see, won’t we?