Inequality, Poverty, Education

A Political Economy of School Exclusion

F. Ashurst

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN: 9781137347008
• eBook ISBN: 9781137347015
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education Theory & Practice

This book challenges the practice of exclusion by uncovering its roots in 19th century social and educational policy targeting poor children. Revealing a hidden history of exclusion, this analysis exposes the connections between the state, the education system and social policy, and opens a space for radical alternatives.

1

Introduction: Elements for a Political Economy of Exclusion

A key issue which has been associated with low well being in the UK is inequality. Amongst wealthy nations, the UK has some of the highest levels of inequality. Even before the recession, inequality had reached the highest levels in the UK since records began in 1961. (Nairn, 2011: 7)

… health and social problems like violence, mental illness, teenage births and educational failure … are all more common among the poor than the rich … almost all the problems which are common at the bottom of the social ladder are more common in more unequal societies. (Wilkinson and Pickett, 2010: 11 and 18)

The analysis of school exclusion in this study aims to show that the problem of school exclusion raises economic, political, social and historical issues which go to the heart of questions about an equitable and just society. Our starting point is the apparent conundrum that although it is widely recognised that exclusion does not work, and is immensely costly, it has continued to be the principal means for dealing with disruptive behaviour in schools in England and Wales. One is led therefore to enquire about the forces and values which operate to fix exclusion as the default position. Equally, the fact that the practice largely affects a specific category of children, namely those who are poor, disadvantaged or troubled, predominantly belonging to a precarious section of the population, motivates a search for answers that transcend issues relating narrowly to schooling or the conceptualisation of child development and childhood. Our argument is that such a search reveals the school to be a site where underlying struggles about inequality, poverty and ideas of the good society that have roots in the 19th century have been and continue to be fought out. Our study will show that exclusion as a practice is the abiding legacy of how these conflicts evolved in England and Wales, a legacy that has been brought into sharp focus in the present period of economic crisis and growing inequality.

We have set out our analysis in the form of a political economy of exclusion. We have been guided in this by research which has consistently found wealth and income inequality to be a key factor in determining both educational achievement and juvenile delinquency. The magnitude of the problem is striking when one reflects that recent analyses point to the likelihood of 25 per cent of children in the UK living at or below the poverty line by 2020 (Brewer et al., 2011). We present below well-established evidence showing the correlation between exclusion, disruptive behaviour, poor achievement and importantly delinquency. Whilst this link may not be surprising, what is more intriguing is the long history showing the extent to which inequality and poverty are the common factors that connect the one with the other, and it is this set of interconnections that has informed our argument that a history of exclusion is interwoven with a history of inequality.

We are encouraged in this approach by Stiglitz who, in The Price of Inequality, examines the recent massive growth in inequality worldwide to reveal how the ‘money-inequality political/economic nexus’ (2013: xxii) has operated to further disadvantage those already suffering from the consequences of poverty. He highlights the findings that link the worsening in income and wealth inequality to inequalities in health, lower educational attainment, as well as drug abuse and deterioration in family life, and notes the increasing gap in test scores of American children that can be attributed to this increase in inequality over the past 25 years (op. cit: xiii, xv). The costs affect society as a whole since increases in the rate of crime correlate with both the poorly educated and inequality (op. cit: 19). Whilst such interconnections have been well known for some time, what is striking is his claim that ‘… inequality is the result of political forces as much as of economic ones’ (2013: 38), an implication in the USA being that ‘… in the absence of government support, many children of the poor would not be able to get basic health care and nutrition let alone the education required to acquire the skills necessary for enhanced productivity and high wages’ (op. cit: 38).

Stiglitz’ analysis of the causes and consequences of inequality finds support in Wilkinson and Pickett’s The Spirit Level where they provide ample evidence from international comparisons confirming the links between inequality, children’s educational performance, health, mental illness, delinquency, imprisonment rates, life expectancy (2010: 19). With regard to education they present evidence relating to measures of memory and attention, levels of confidence and trust, and problem-solving ability displayed by children to show that stressors arising from inequality ‘have a direct and demonstrable effect on our brains, on our learning and educational achievements’ (op.cit: 115). Their explanation takes account of the fact that social inequalities in early childhood development are entrenched long before the start of formal education, citing in support a UK study that found that by the age of three years, children from disadvantaged backgrounds were already educationally up to a year behind children from more privileged homes (2010: 110). Furthermore, income inequality adversely affects level of aspiration in cross-national comparisons. Importantly, by arguing that the intertwinement of these ‘diseases of poverty’ (op. cit: 10) produces vicious circles in which the poor are caught, they show that inequality has consequences that damages society as a whole, for ‘the truth is that both the broken society and the broken economy resulted from the growth of inequality’ (op. cit: 5). Recent studies of the effects of stress associated with the diseases of poverty indicate that physiological and psychological changes that often result from these stressors could be transmitted across generations, further aggravating the costs of inequality (Coghlan, 2013).

What is clear from the studies of Stiglitz and Wilkinson and Pickett is that for a significant population of children in poverty, a revolving door exists that connects poor and troubled families with low levels of their children’s educational attainment, delinquency, exclusion, and further down the line, prison and unemployment. The implication is that what is at stake in understanding the processes at work in producing these iniquitous situations is not only improvements across all these measures but improvements in the wellbeing and quality of life of all citizens. That ultimate goal, which has motivated both studies, is made explicit in their repeated conviction that the analysis of inequality is an integral part of addressing the question of ‘the fundamental causes of inequity’ (Stiglitz, 2013: lvii) in order to find ‘positive solutions to our problems’ (Wilkinson and Pickett, 2010: xi). At stake is the need to redefine the idea of prosperity and wellbeing, as Jackson (2009), looking at similar economic and socio-cultural patterns in Prosperity Without Growth, also emphasised.

What one learns from these studies, and what the standpoint of political economy illustrates, is that the story of inequality and its consequences, including about education, is inextricably mixed with the longer history of wider political and economic developments (see Glyn, 2006; Sen and Nussbaum, 1993). Guided by this ‘big picture’, our narrative of school exclusion will show that underlying the different and shifting practices from the emergence of liberal capitalism in the 19th century one finds conflicting views of the good society and human beings. These can be broadly separated into, on the one hand, utilitarian, instrumental, economistic and punitive approaches to poverty, disruptive behaviour and education generally, and on the other hand, radical and universalist approaches tied to a commitment to changing the rules of the game to benefit equally the quality of life of all citizens. The former then and now has tended to privilege the interests of business, governance and self-interested individuals, the latter value the general good and the interest of the people as a whole and their social and spiritual wellbeing. It is sobering to reflect that exactly the same values are identified by Stiglitz as at stake in his devastating critique of the ‘market fundamentalist ideology that serves the interests of the top, often at the expense of the rest of society’ (2013: xxv), an ideology which he blames as the root cause of the current economic crisis. He makes his own commitments clear when he approvingly cites Cornel West’s view that it is not a matter of the proper understanding of self-interest, but of ‘strong moral forces, strong spiritual forces, linked to …what it means to be human…(and) rich stories of the art of living, loving, serving others’ (2013: xxi).

The story of exclusion that we tell will illustrate the extent to which similar values and political commitments were already at play in the 19th century when the role of education in breaking the link between extreme poverty and crime was being differently developed by reformers. We argue below in our examination of these conflicts within 19th century liberalism that the lines of battle have often been messy and confusing, as the implications of emerging policy were often not clear. By relocating school exclusion within the wider framework of political economy, we show why this longer history is relevant today, as well as chart the determining place of the management of inequality, poverty and labour in the development of state educational and social policy; this approach combining political economy and genealogy enables us to open up a space for displacing the focus towards the care of the child as primary objective of intervention.

It should be clear from what we are arguing that part of our aim is strategically to displace the problem of exclusion away from a purely educational one relating to disruptive behaviour in schools, though obviously it is such behaviour that triggers interventions on the part of teachers and policy-makers. Whilst the immediate objective of the latter is the restoration of order and discipline conducive to a good learning environment, the displacement we propose aims to show that unless the problem is framed within the wider context we are suggesting, one by default allows the technical issues and existing regulations to define the problem, to the detriment of being able to imagine radical solutions that would be more effective from the point of view of the better, longer term interest of children, and indeed, of education and costs. The evidence we will present will establish the seriousness of the problem as well as highlight the constant failure of existing strategies to find lasting solutions either in terms of institutional practice or in terms of rescuing and helping the large number of disturbed and troubled children involved. Our problematisation of the exclusionary and the punishment regimes imposed for disruptive behaviour and juvenile delinquency arises from these failures; instead of ensuring that education functions as the route out of deprivation and wasted lives for all children, current practices only succeed in confirming the targeted children’s negative expectations of the educational system and their negative evaluation of their own ability or place in society.

The problem of exclusion

But where should one start in problematising exclusion, and in establishing the parameters for a different analysis that would open up different paths for dealing with the underlying problems? We are of course not the first researchers to be concerned about the inadequacy of exclusion as a policy. Many important studies already highlight these inadequacies, for instance, two reports from the Children’s Commissioner for England (2012; 2013) which examine the effects of legal and illegal or hidden exclusions, whilst Carl Parsons’ (2009) analysis in ‘Strategic Alternatives to Exclusion from School’ suggests involving a wide team of specialists and providers at the local level to develop and implement a non-punitive response. We would like to also note the work of Roger Slee (2010) who in his analysis of the principle of ‘inclusive education’ has argued that a different approach to education altogether is implicated if the new regime is to be more than an assimilation of marginal groups into existing practices. Inclusion in his account widens the scope to include disability, which raises specific problems that we do not address in this study. However, we do examine in the concluding section of the book the contradictions between the rhetoric of inclusion promoted by current policy and the reality of practices and resources in the context of a strategy of austerity, and the increasing privatisation of provisions.

Let us start by clarifying what school exclusion is and why it is a problem. As a practice it exists within the disciplinary framework of schools and is used to punish children who consistently break rules. The process involves stages and procedures that have been set up and regularly altered to deliver, in principle, a fair system that teachers and specialists can manage. Fixed-term exclusions are usually for three to five days, depending on the severity of the behaviour – although it should be noted that for the most part the disruption would be ‘low level’, talking, moving around the classroom, laughing, talking back to the teacher, swearing, refusing to work and so on. However, this kind of behaviour is particularly challenging for staff who may not have received any additional training or support (Osler, 2000; Reay, 2006; Warnock, 2006). Frequent short-term exclusions means that it is permissible for a child to miss out on a significant amount of education. As regulations for fixed-term exclusion allow for a total of 45 days in any one school year, most of those at risk could be out of school for almost a term each year. Those who are excluded are meant to have alternative provisions put in place to ensure their continued education. In practice and for complex reasons which have much to do with the cost of adequate provisions and monitoring, these alternatives are sadly inadequate in most places. In addition, the constant disruption to a child’s education results in further disaffection and alienation as they struggle to keep pace with work missed. Yet, as Parsons pointed out, ‘most of the literature on disaffection and behavioural problems is about putting in place strategies which “work” in the management of challenging behaviour, and increase the chances of young people remaining in touch with education and the life chances it brings. The focus is often on “fixing the child”’ (Parsons, 2005: 188), namely, through measures that are meant to encourage the excluded to conform to the norms of ‘normal’ behaviour.

In this regard, it is important to recognise that many teachers and specialists involved in the process try and put the interest of the child foremost, often having to battle institutional and regulatory obstacles; thus, conflicting views of what education is for are at stake in this situation. So, the critical question is: why has exclusion been institutionalised as a central part of the disciplinary process for schools, when it is widely recognised that it does not work and is far more costly than other solutions? (Sodha, S and Margo, J, 2010). These costs include not only those borne by the excluded in terms of lost opportunities and life chances but also the costs arising from the resources of the various agencies involved in the process, and long-term costs because of future problems related to the greater likelihood of unemployment, poor health and crime.

Let us look at the hard data to gauge the extent of the problem. Every year in the UK there is an annual cycle of statistical releases produced by Department of Education. The most recent report, published in 2013, reveals that 5,170 pupils were permanently excluded and 162,400 pupils received fixed period exclusions in schools in England and Wales. Publication of statistical data recording permanent exclusion from school had first appeared in 1992, whilst the ‘explosion’ of school exclusion has been identified as a cause for concern from the 1990s (Parsons, 1996; Gilborn, 1998; Vulliamy and Webb, 2000). The annual increases thereafter were interpreted, particularly in the media, as evidence of large-scale deterioration in behaviour amongst school children. Hayden (2003: 631) remarked that responses included ‘the perceived “dangerousness” of children in the community without schooling’, whilst Parsons (2005) documented how the media selected and sensationalised specific cases of children excluded from school as ‘evidence’ which worked to confirm a punitive and retributionist set of responses which, he argued, reflected the ‘understand a little less and condemn a little more’ approach which emerged in the mid-1990s. Furthermore, these sensationalised accounts ignored any underlying contributory factors, preferring instead to produce representations which demonised what were often vulnerable children and young people. Parsons concluded that ‘the result is that these negatively defined groups experience oversight, neglect and punishment’ (Parsons, 2005: 198).

Indeed, the ‘oversight, neglect and punishment’ has catastrophic results, for, as recent statistics from the Youth Justice Board show, more than 80 per cent of young boys and girls in young offender institutions had been excluded from school and that more than half ‘had last been at school when they were under 14’ (Youth Justice Board, 2009: 9). This was further reinforced in a recent report from HM Inspectorate of Prisons which reported that 46 per cent of young male offenders were last in school when they were aged 14 or under, and 86 per cent had been excluded from school (HMIP, 2011). The former Chief Inspector for Prisons, Anne Owers, pointed out in the foreword to the 2009 Youth Justice Board report that ‘most children and young people who end up in prison come from sadly predictable backgrounds’ (2009: 7). The criminalising and punishment of disadvantaged children and young people has a lengthy and complex history which is central to the account that we present; exclusion, we argue, serves as an index for wider underlying problems in society.

Although the data for permanent and fixed period exclusions could be interpreted as representing the failure of policies which set tough targets for reducing exclusion, it has instead become a point at which the Government and the media attack disaffected children, ‘feckless’ parents, ‘failing’ schools and a whole range of agencies for their inability to contain and control those who are ‘persistently disruptive’, these being the most common reason given for exclusion (both fixed term and permanent). The stories and representations which accompany exclusion statistics construct the excluded as feral children, existing on the margins, criminals in waiting and unworthy of sympathy or understanding, the product of bad parenting and failed families. It is a narrative used to incite or justify calls for harsher punishments and more control of the young generally. Informing the debates, whether in parliament or the popular media, is a set of assumptions around a particular population of children which seem calculated to avoid foregrounding the effects of poverty, neglect, abuse and so on. Yet, these are often the dominant features for those who transgress.

It is significant too that social class is not a feature of the statistical data collected. Whilst this could be explained as a ‘technical’ difficulty reflecting the shifting nature of descriptors used to measure class, it is more difficult to understand the silence around such an absence. Instead, the concept of ‘social exclusion’ (Levitas, 2005) has been increasingly used to describe those once categorised as disadvantaged, a rhetorical shift which has successfully transferred responsibility for poverty from one of systemic inequality and class to one of individual failure. As Kate Gavron has pointed out: ‘… the rhetoric of politicians and commentators has tended to abandon the description “working class”, preferring instead to use terms such as “hard working families” in order to contrast the virtuous many with an underclass perceived as feckless and undeserving’ (Gavron, 2009: 1). Underlying this shift are important changes regarding the governance of poverty generally, for, as Wacquant (2009) has argued, neoliberal approaches to poverty have instituted the integration of welfare and criminal justice such that the regulation of the poor is organised in terms of a government of social insecurity that rewards those who abide by the rules of the game and punishes the transgressors.

There is a long history associated with dividing the working class into the categories of deserving and undeserving that Gavron identifies, whilst today other categories have been proposed both to describe recognisable gradations and differences in the class composition of the population and to make visible the values attached to these categories. However, the Department for Education relies instead on using ‘free school meals’ as an indicator for deprivation although a recent survey carried out by the Children’s Society provided evidence to suggest that more than a million school children living in poverty do not get free school meals and pointed out that ‘700,000 are not even entitled to this vital support because they are from poor, working families’ (Children’s Society, 2012).

The problem is that whilst the management process assumes the existence of unproblematic norms of ‘normal’ behaviour and that strategies or programmes can be devised largely focussed on the normalisation of the child as the goal, this is at the expense of addressing the underlying issues which contribute to disruptive or ‘abnormal’ behaviour. Matters have been made worse in the wake of the implementation of practices driven by conflicting demands such as the targets and objectives of audit culture (Rose, 1999b). This culture tends to override the effects of inequality for those children most in need (Piachaud, 2001; Armstrong, 2005). Yet, as Hayden (2003: 629) pointed out, ‘relatively poor socio-economic circumstances are the common factor in exclusion’.

P...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• 1 Introduction: Elements for a Political Economy of Exclusion
• 2 Pauperism, Delinquency and Learning to Labour
• 3 Labour, Poverty and the Export of Destitute Children As ‘Waste’
• 4 Security, Population and the New Management of the Poor
• 5 Disciplining and Punishment: The New Exclusionary Regime Emerges
• 6 Ragged Schools, Child-Centred Education and the Struggle for Egalitarian Politics
• 7 Mettray: Normalisation or Rescue?
• 8 The Institutionalisation of Exclusion within Education
• 9 ‘No More Excuses’: Neoliberalism and the New Exclusion
• Index