Brian Monteith: We must learn to value education

THERE was a time, and it is within living memory for most readers of this column, when Scotland had a reputation for being top of the form in educational achievement.

For many people of other tongues the word education was synonymous with Scotland.

There were, I believe, essentially four reasons for this.

First was our outstanding universities that had provided since mediaeval times so many doctors, engineers and problem solvers, be they philosophical or practical.

Second was the open access to our schools for all classes of boys (and then later girls) as the foundation for an inquiring mind, an advantage that our protestant reformation gave us over other countries.

John Knox's model of a school in every parish elevated education to become a good in itself and within everyone's reach. Education gave people equality of opportunity in Scotland and as such was an egalitarian and democratising force.

The third was Scotland's construction of the British Empire, an opportunity that, of all of the partners, we exploited the most.

There was hardly anywhere that Scots did not go as traders, explorers, missionaries and professionals – and leave a school in their wake. Even places where the world map was not painted pink felt the Scots' gift for hard work built on a sound education. For instance, go to Rio Tinto in Spain and discover the schools founded by Scottish mining engineers (which is how we also gave Spain football, but that's another story).

The fourth reason is probably less tangible but for me no less important – it was the widely accepted belief that education in an open meritocratic society was the passport to a better life. With access readily available (the second of my four reasons) and the opportunity that was the Empire (why limit oneself to Scotland) Scots parents saw to it that their children had at least the foundations of reading, writing and counting so that they could think for themselves. One did not have to go to a university or marry above oneself to find reward (although it might help).

For Scots, a good education was what helped define us – it was a national characteristic – as much as some fools seem to think that being drunk in a gutter makes us Scottish now.

Sadly, tragically even, Scotland's reputation for educational excellence has, within a generation or two, been damaged almost beyond repair.

In comparative studies we have been slipping down the international league tables – sometimes even appearing behind England – a previously unknown occurrence. This week the Education Secretary, Fiona Hyslop, announced shocking figures that showed an appalling deterioration in reading and counting standards of pupils between the ages of seven and thirteen. Given that children are generally hungry to learn when they start school it is no surprise to find their abilities up to primary three are impressive. Why, though, do they deteriorate so quickly the more they are taught?

The questionable performance of our schools has troubled parents, teachers and politicians for years now and many solutions have been offered. If you accept that our nation's reputation was earned because of the four reasons I have outlined, could it not be that the factor that we are not giving enough thought to is the relegation of education as a route to reward and success – be it material, physical or spiritual?

If we continue to reward failure, if we elevate celebrity over substance, if we let criminals off with a pat on the back and blame society (in other words everybody except the guilty) we are diminishing the ideal of people advancing through merit. For many people the question about education becomes "what's the point?"

One only has to visit our schools and see the anti-learning culture that is rife – especially amongst young boys. Not only can't they read or count – they don't care – because they don't think for themselves. They let others decide it's cool to be thick.

If we can address that issue whilst attempting to repair the practices inside our schools then maybe, just maybe, we can begin to climb back up that league.

Cheers to Burley
I keep asking the question of the SNP, BMA and anyone else that wants alcohol taxes to be even more expensive than they are – why is it that low-taxation countries usually have fewer drink-related problems? As they cannot answer (because it does not fit their simplistic analysis) I tell them – because it is about damaging cultural attitudes such as the glorification of getting drunk.

I must, therefore, congratulate Scotland football manager George Burley for benching his team captain, Barry Ferguson, and goalie, Allan McGregor, after they went on a ridiculous drinking binge into the early hours of Sunday morning. Given they were Rangers players and Wednesday's World Cup match was vital Burley showed real courage. It is decisions like his that will do far more to show our young that drinking to excess is neither smart nor cool than politicians putting the price of wine up by a couple of quid a bottle. We need more George Burleys and fewer Kenny MacAskills.