After an all too long hiatus following exam season and a serious lack of journalistic inspiration, we are (hopefully) back for good. Stay tuned for more!
My return to the keyboard has largely been induced by an article published in the Guardian this week, "Why public schoolboys like me and Boris Johnson aren’t fit to run our country". It focuses in particular on the formative years of Boris Johnson and David Cameron at elite private boarding schools. Written by Richard Beard, who attended similar schools around the same time as Johnson and Cameron, it provides a superb insight into the cultures which bred the leaders of today - leading me to reflect on my own experience at private school, and what might have changed since Johnson and Cameron walked the halls of Eton.
First, some context. I was fortunate enough to receive a private education from a very young age - firstly at a co-ed independent primary school, before moving to an all-boys secondary school at 11. While I did not board at either (both were day only), and neither were steeped in the same kind of aristocratic grandeur as the public schools attended by those referred to in Beard's article (Eton, Harrow, Radley and so on), I have undoubtedly been immersed in a similar environment to that which moulded those named above, and many more since. And whilst my apparently 'progressive' secondary school headmaster liked to differentiate his school from those, we were admittedly far closer to them in most ways than the state-funded academy just next door.
What matters most is the culture of these schools. In an interview included at the bottom of the article by Killian Fox, Beard describes it succinctly, "It’s not hellish on a daily basis. On the surface, it seems quite the opposite, especially to the parents. When you see the tennis courts and the swimming pools it looks fantastic. The problems are underneath the surface."
What happens in a lesson, on the football pitch, or in the dining hall on a day-to-day basis is largely unimportant in the private school experience. It's the process of the schools, the values they foster, and the kind of person they develop. It is difficult for anyone outside that group, even the teachers themselves, to really understand how it operates, and how it shapes who you are. I shall try my best, along with a few of my peers, to provide a small insight into our experience, which will by no means be a universal one, but I hope to capture something of the environment in which I was immersed in for my entire childhood.
Aside from the isolating experience of boarding at school, most of Beard's article refers to the attitudes held by boys at the school, from 'emotional austerity' as he describes it to widespread prejudice in the forms of racism, sexism, and homophobia.
I would like to say, forty years later, that things have changed. For the most part, however, the issues remain significant. When I asked a friend of mine, who is Chinese, to reflect on his experiences of prejudice at the school, he quickly sent back pages and pages of examples. 'Microaggressions galore', being called a 'dog eater', and asking where he was 'really' from hardly skim the surface of the problem. In his own words:
I most certainly heard my fair share of microaggressions during my 7 years there, from the fabled “dog eater” to the classic “chink”, I pretty much got it all. Not to mention by the end of my school career in Year 13 the COVID-19 pandemic had reached news in the West, and people asked me if I had ever eaten a bat. Students laughed at the Mandarin teacher’s accent when one lunchtime she wanted to see me; yet they never once mocked other modern languages teachers’ accents...I felt like my identity was being stabbed. Defending myself in any way was just out of the question; I was called a “snowflake” for being “too sensitive” and “not being able to take a joke.”...those who perpetuated these racist remarks never really got sanctioned. A slap on the wrist is not going to stop someone from being bigoted. Education will, and that is something schools don’t give, whether that be in the history curriculum or anti-racism talks from outside. From the surface the school looks as if there is a peaceful environment with all the pupils being inclusive, with their classic photoshoots of majority whites and a token brown person, to sweeping shots of the however many acres of field for sports there were. It’s until you actually enrol in the school where you actually experience the true culture that private schools have built over years and years of ignorance and bigotry.
Ethnic diversity at the school was always viewed as a token issue - meritocratic values were always central - photoshoots for the website, for example, typically featured one student of every ethnicity to feign genuine diversity and inclusion. POC history, and tackling racist stereotypes and unconscious biases were totally non-existent, as is a significant issue in most schools nationwide. Yet if you asked the headmaster about issues with racism at the school, I'd be surprised if he thought they were any at all. If anything, he would be quick to praise the school's diverse and inclusive culture.
The 'snowflake' lad culture mentioned above also produces other issues. Homophobia is, to put it mildly, rampant. Being labelled 'gay' is commonly thrown about as an insult whenever anyone does anything not quite 'masculine' enough, and lazy stereotypes were joked about regularly. It is telling that only one boy in a year of over 200 felt comfortable to be openly out, and that many more have only come out since leaving. One such person, who I also asked about his experience, described a culture of being treated differently, and not wanting to be known as the 'gay kid'. Efforts to tackle this issue were at least acknowledged by the school, but measures put in place amounted to a little A6 poster on every noticeboard saying 'Its' Okay To Be Gay', which was, surprisingly, not all that effective.
Totally unacknowledged, however, was the sexism. Next to our school was an all-girls private school, which we were 'twinned' with (whatever that means). Thinking back now, you would be pretty hard pressed to walk between a lesson or go a short break time and not hear one, if not multiple, comments objectifying, sexualising, or otherwise demeaning a girl from that school. Culturally, it was not just accepted to behave in this way - it was effectively expected of you, particularly in some social circles. When boys go unchecked by the school and their peers, this is the inevitable result. It was no surprise to me, then, to read my school's name numerous times in the testimonies of the website Everyone's Invited, along with the names of many other all-boys private schools.
This is the kind of environment that our country's future leaders are growing up in. Unchecked, unaccountable, and above all, privileged. We were constantly reminded of our fortune at attending such a wonderful school, perhaps with the intention of reminding us of this privilege. All it did was serve to remind us that to all extents and purposes, we were better than everyone else. We were at a better school, we'd get better grades, go to better universities, and get better jobs than everyone else. And did we deserve any of it? Absolutely not. But maybe, if we were feeling jolly kind, we'd do a little to help out 'those less fortunate than ourselves' along the way. And we'd feel all the better about ourselves for it. What nice young chaps we certainly are.
Above all else, private schools will always have one core aim - success. They achieve this through instilling what they would call an elite mentality - others might call it an elitist one.
That success, however, is not placed on a pedestal to be positively aspired to. Rather we were expected to be better; it was damn near compulsory. It was not rewarded (for good work you were given a meaningless sticker), except stingily in the case of absolute perfection, where a firm handshake from the headmaster and round of applause from the pupils and staff provided a rare, if small, sense of pride.
Anyone seen to be dropping below that required standard is monitored closely, punished regularly through isolation and missed breaktime, and mocked back into line. Being in the lowest sets was a cause for ridicule - nicknamed 'rainbow set' or 'special set' by the other boys - myself included, I admit. That's the thing with culture - when you are in so deep, as I unquestionably was, everything becomes normalised.
Beard speaks well of the "cynicism, exceptionalism, defensive arrogance, [and] offensive arrogance" this kind of relentless expectation fosters. Behaving with aloofness and disdain for those lower in the hierarchy becomes a necessary trait, and even those suffering in private with a lack of self-confidence like myself acted as if untouchable and flawless, perpetuating the culture further. To be better, we act better. We fake it until, inevitably, we make it.
The cliquey groups regulated by racist, homophobic, and sexist 'banter', the entrenched social hierarchy, and the mockery of anything deemed too effeminate, too weak, or too odd, slowly but surely wears away any ability to emotionally relate to one another in a genuine way. Toxic masculinity is rife, and 'lad culture' a daily reality, as I described earlier. It is only now, having been outside that environment, that I realise how damaging it really was, and how normalised that kind of behaviour is in private schools.
Worst of all for me personally, though most certainly not for many who faced far greater challenges, was the overriding sense of emotional flattening. The constant pressure, academically from teachers, and socially from peers, was designed to breed strength and excellence. In myself, and I'm sure many others, however, it produced a sort of numb sadness mixed with crippling anxiety, and perfectionism to the point where the idea of failure alone in anything struck genuine fear in me. Support was available, from teachers, or counsellors if needed, but the culture always prevented it from being truly effective. Any help was sought in private, usually kept secret from everyone, and to be ashamed of. As Beard describes:
At school we tried not to feel foolish, angry, loving, stupid, sad, dependent, excited or demanding. We were made wary of feeling, full stop. By comparison, children not blessed with a private education must be fizzing with uncontrolled emotions and therefore insufferably weak.
While change has happened since his day, the culture which underpins these elite institutions is fundamentally the same. If my headmaster were to ever read this, he would I'm sure be appalled by much of what I have written here - and would certainly refute a great deal of it, no doubt. He would point to the pastoral team, or the emphasis on a kind, helpful community of nice young fellows which features in recent Ofsted reports. He often professed the fantastic community spirit of the school, but bubbling under the surface there always remained that culture, one of emotional grinding-down, intense expectation, and immense privilege, not to mention the kinds of prejudices I outlined earlier.
I absolutely do not wish to underplay the exceptional fortune in the education I received, nor suggest that we private schoolers had it just as tough as everyone else. That is not true. I maintain that I was extremely fortunate to attend the schools I did, and I firmly believe that all children should receive a high quality education - for free, without the current tiered system which prioritises those with wealthy parents while claiming to provide equal opportunity for all - and certainly without the kind of elitism commonplace in private schools. I also do not wish to suggest that some of these issues are exclusive to private schools, with racism, toxic masculinity and lad culture still widespread across the UK education system, and in desperate need of political reform. I merely hope to point out the serious issues with elite private school culture, and how damaging the results are for our society.
Because sadly, it remains likely that when my generation - our generation - reaches the heights of the corporate and political world in around thirty years time, it will likely still be that 7% who dominates the leading roles. The impacts of that culture which I have outlined a sense of, which still persists in elite private schools, will continue to shine through. As Beard notes at the end of his exceptional piece, while we can hope the era of public school dominance will come to a spectacular end with a "burst of corruption and incompetence" of Johnson & co., "Anyone betting on that outcome, at any point in the past 600 years, would have lost". May that bet finally be won.
Thank you for reading!
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