A recent Telegraph article blamed poor parenting on the educational underachievement of white working-class children. Once again, somebody had to be held responsible. Either parents have failed, we are told, or society has. Yet amid the search for people to blame, almost nobody pauses to ask a more fundamental question: when exactly did we decide that educational attainment is the defining feature of a successful childhood?

Every social problem today is assumed to have an educational solution. Every inequality demands more qualifications. And yet few people ever pause to ask why. Policymakers have convinced themselves that the ultimate goal is to get children into university and then professional careers. The clear and persistent resistance of some children to this grand objective is seldom thoughtfully analyzed. Instead, recalcitrant kids are treated like patients who refuse to take their medicine. But why should becoming a plumber, electrician, carpenter or mechanic be regarded as a consolation prize compared to a sedate office job?

Hundreds of thousands of young people are training for trade jobs — more than 350,000 apprenticeships were started in England last year, while graduate recruitment has fallen by almost 25% in just three years, creating the weakest graduate job market for 13 years. Many degree-holders are now discovering that there are simply not enough jobs to go around. So why do we instinctively treat a university degree as evidence of success, and insist that building houses is somehow less admirable than making PowerPoint presentations?

We no longer seem to ask whether young people are becoming wiser or more capable. Instead, we ask whether they are qualified, and continue to herd young people into universities whether they belong there or not. Such is our faith in the great God of Education that Britain has spent a mind-boggling £30 billion since 2011 attempting to boost the grades of poorer children, despite the fact that many thrive once they leave school behind.

Of course, education and qualifications are not the same thing. Yet modern Britain increasingly treats them as though they were, encouraging young people to remain in formal education for as long as possible. This is especially true when it comes to the working class. Everybody appears to agree that the ultimate goal is to get these children into university and away from their socio-economic background. Yet what exactly is the message being communicated? That you should strive to leave behind your parents’ way of life, or that the world which raised you is something to escape rather than cherish?

Traditionally, the term “working class” described people who earned their living through wages rather than professional salaries, often in jobs involving manual, skilled, or routine work. It didn’t necessitate extensive qualifications.

However, now that childhood is built around education, formal qualifications are increasingly required even for traditionally working-class jobs. Nursing training has moved from the hospital ward to the university, while occupations previously learned largely on the job — from electricians and plumbers to mechanics and builders — are increasingly filtered through qualifications and structured training programs. That’s fine for the kids who are academic, but disastrous for the type of individual who would rather work their way up the ladder by dint of hard work.

This is particularly strange because working-class life once carried its own dignity. A man or woman who earned a living through skilled manual work, paid their bills, and contributed to their community was considered respectable. Today, however, the assumption is that the highest purpose of schooling is to transform every working-class child into a graduate. Yet we still need people to build houses, fit boilers, repair roads and fix broken washing machines. The country cannot survive only on consultants and business executives.

Perhaps the problem isn’t that too few children are escaping the working class, but that respectable working-class lives have become culturally invisible. Along the way, we have dismissed not only practical skills, but also the knowledge that there are many paths to a good and decent life.

---

Stella O’Malley is a psychotherapist and bestselling author. She is Founder-Director of Genspect, an international organisation that advocates for a healthy approach to sex and gender.

stellaomalley3

---