Big Brother may well be watching you, but don’t think about tweeting him a response. This blog explores the implications of proposals for GCSE English language that rule out the possibility of writing and exploring digital texts.
An instruction in the newly released proposals for GCSE English language explicitly directs exam boards away from assessing pupils on their knowledge, understanding and production of some of the most vibrant and exciting forms of written language available for study. The diktat stating that “digital texts must not be included” is indicative of the regressive, authoritarian mind-set behind reforms to England’s education system. So at odds is it with the world in which young people live that it is worthy of closer examination. Why exactly would a government body want to fly in the face of common-sense and logic to say such a thing?
In one sense the statement simply plays to a vocal portion of the electorate. Those who are in continual denial of even the possibility of linguistic change, their fingers permanently poised on speed-dial to Radio 4, ready to report the latest lapse in grammatical orthodoxy (if only they were technically-savvy enough to use a speed-dial function) will be delighted at what they will see as a victory for rigour and standards. In another sense, however, it is indicative of a more worrying trend underlying a whole range of proposed legislation, a very obvious example of an ideological approach to education that seeks to keep people in their place and deny even the possibility of social change.
This is Gove acting as medieval cleric, resisting calls to translate the Bible from the Latin, so that ordinary people might make up their own minds about what it means.
This is Gove acting as feudal lord, allowing his subjects to learn to read but not to write; in learning only to read, they could passively absorb the worldview of their master, but they could never shape and promote a worldview of their own.
This is Gove as anti-democratic ideologue, a man ignorant of how language learning takes place in the real world, a true “enemy of promise”, to borrow a phrase he recently threw at successful educationalists.
A promise speaks of a commitment to the future, of excellence to come. Where is the commitment in this single phrase to the world in which our young people live? How can excellence come from a denial of linguistic forms (not to mention issues of visual literacy, which this blog has not the space to address) that push boundaries, challenge norms and thrive on invention and innovation?
Of course, it is no real surprise to find that digital forms of writing (and I’m deliberately limiting myself to discussing written forms of digital texts, the arguments about reading images perhaps being a step too far for those writing the proposals at this stage) are deemed to have no place in our examination system. To the Goves of this world they are a genuine threat. Now the masses can not only read and write, they can also publish. And there is no one telling them what is and is not permitted. What’s more, they can obtain a wide audience, quickly, and at no cost. One history teacher’s response to Gove wilfully misrepresenting his work for political gain is a case in point.
Politicians have no way of stopping the abundance of writing being produced that is free for all to access and read – a situation that one academic has labelled “the revenge of the text”. Denying young people the right to explore and produce it in the classroom is a desperate, last-ditch attempt to stem the democratization of reading and writing, to judge school leavers according to the redundant codes and conventions of their elders rather than those that will dominate their own future lives – both working and social.
Digital forms of writing are responsible for driving forward language change at an unprecedented rate. To a reactionary ideologue, this poses great danger. Authority for the likes of Gove rests in mastery of a prescribed, tightly controlled way of doing things: hence his love of formal debating and parliamentary speeches, with their narrowly regulated linguistic patterns. New forms not only challenge existing language structures, but the structure of power itself. In Gove’s vision, academic success lies in striving for a particular skill-set that has served him well in his own peculiar world, rather than allowing young people to demonstrate flexibility in their linguistic choices. Yes, they do need to be able to understand and communicate in standard forms, but they also need to be able to experiment, subvert, play, provoke, challenge and destabilize those very forms where appropriate. Without the opportunity to do so, English lessons risk being drained of life. The material from which we make sense of existence – language – is denied the possibility of growth. And when language fails to grow, so do our young people.
There is no logic to the decision to exclude digital texts from assessment at GCSE level. It flies in the face of common-sense, which surely suggests that young people need to become confident users of the written forms that will be most influential in their adult lives. It is but one part of a set of tedious proposals for GCSE examinations that are little changed from the present unsatisfactory offering – except any vaguely interesting bits have been removed. But what a part! Breath-taking in its disregard for the way the world is moving, it breaks apart the implicit promise that any older generation makes to those growing up: that it will prepare them for the future.
As an opponent of all enemies of promise, and a proud English teacher with a deep-seated belief in the potential of my subject, I would like to offer the following as examples of how a language curriculum can and should engage with digital forms of writing. I am not proposing that they are all, necessarily, suitable for GCSE assessment, but putting them forward as examples of some of the dynamic types of work that pupils can and should engage in, alongside more traditional aspects of the curriculum. And, yes, some of them should be used as legitimate forms of assessment.
Writing Fan Fiction: fan fiction allows young people to engage directly with literature that they value, and so is an excellent way of promoting reading for pleasure. For examination, pupils could submit a piece of fan fiction, with a commentary explaining how, linguistically, it draws on, replicates and adapts features of its source text.
Writing an essay with hyperlinks: pupils demonstrate their ability to place their own discursive work within wider debates by including a recommended number of hyperlinks to their own work. Assessment would judge how effectively their original material links to various sources and how the sources add meaning.
Creating a patchwork essay: this might prove a little ambitious, but as pupils become more proficient at managing digital text, they could produce an ‘original’ piece of writing that patches together freely available material from a range of sources, as done by Jonathan Lethem in his The Ecstasy of Influence.
Creating a multimodal text: students could be assessed on how well they combine words and images to generate effective meaning in designing, for example, a webpage.
Analysing the language of social media: pupils can do this in the spoken language parts of the current GCSE specifications. They can be assessed in their recognition of how social media texts generate meaning, particularly in the way that they deliberately subvert and move away from standard forms.
Blogging in the style of a fictional character: what better way to demonstrate understanding of character in a novel or play, than to write in his or her voice. Blogging allows pupils to write a series of entries that mirror the development of a character during reading.
There is one practical barrier to implementing any of these suggestions: several are best approached as coursework. The removal of coursework from the exam specifications, shamefully presented by the DoE as an equality issue, makes it all the harder to assess young people on their use of language forms that are important to them and their futures. But that doesn’t make it any less important.