I have written a guest blog for the sports coach UK site. It's on a perennial, but challenging issue ofDevelopmentally Appropriate Sport.
Click on the image to directly to the site, or enter http://www.sportscoachuk.org/blog/so-what-developmentally-appropriate-sport-richard-bailey
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Sunday, 13 May 2012
Sport has still got a long way to go, Mr Gove
I don't think I was the only person surprised by the tone of the recent speech by Michael Gove, English Secretary of State of Education, at Brighton College. He took the opportunity to highlight the inequalities that remain characteristic of British society, and especially advances offered those able to attend independent schools.
I was surprised because Mr Gove has never struck me as someone especially bothered by our evident social biases. A great deal of Mr Gove's speech focused on the inequalities inherent within our sports systems. Yet, in dismantling the Physical Education and School Sport programme in English schools, and especially the School Sport Partnerships, he was directly responsible for sabotaging one of the very few national policies to successfully break down barriers to participation of state-school pupils.
And the proposed solution of 'more competitive sport in schools' would be simply laughable if it was not for its promise of reversing many of the advances we have seen during the last decade, with the negative health consequences that will bring.
Simple solutions are great for dealing with simply problems. But even Mr Gove is starting to recognise that the problems of participation and talent development are not simple.
At Brighton he said:
All of this is true. And it has been known from at least the 1980s.
Here is a summary of some of the social and economic factors linked to high performance in sport:
"It is remarkable how many of the positions of wealth, influence, celebrity and power in our society are held by individuals who were privately educated."
I was surprised because Mr Gove has never struck me as someone especially bothered by our evident social biases. A great deal of Mr Gove's speech focused on the inequalities inherent within our sports systems. Yet, in dismantling the Physical Education and School Sport programme in English schools, and especially the School Sport Partnerships, he was directly responsible for sabotaging one of the very few national policies to successfully break down barriers to participation of state-school pupils.
And the proposed solution of 'more competitive sport in schools' would be simply laughable if it was not for its promise of reversing many of the advances we have seen during the last decade, with the negative health consequences that will bring.
Simple solutions are great for dealing with simply problems. But even Mr Gove is starting to recognise that the problems of participation and talent development are not simple.
At Brighton he said:
Take sport – where by definition the biggest names are in their teens, twenties and thirties.
As Ed Smith, the Tonbridge-educated former England player, and current Times journalist, points out in his wonderful new book “Luck”:
Twenty-five years ago, of the 13 players who represented England on a tour of Pakistan, only one had been to a private school. In contrast, over two thirds of the current team are privately educated. You’re 20 times more likely to go on and play for England if you go to private school rather than state school.
The composition of the England rugby union team and the British Olympic team reveal the same trend.
Of those members of England’s first 15 born in England, more than half were privately educated.
And again, half the UK’s gold medallists at the last Olympics were privately educated, compared with seven per cent of the population.
All of this is true. And it has been known from at least the 1980s.
Here is a summary of some of the social and economic factors linked to high performance in sport:
Variable
|
Source
|
Parents achieved high standards in domain
|
Rotella and Bunker, 1987; Radford, 1990; Feldman and
Goldsmith, 1986
|
Relatively high socio-economic status
|
Rowley, 1992; English Sports Council, 1997; Duncan,
1997
|
Ability and willingness to financially support
participation and specialist support
|
Rowley, 1992; Kirk, et al, 1997a; Kay, 2000
|
Ability and willingness to invest high amounts of
time to support the child’s engagement in the activity
|
Yang et al., 1996; Kirk et al., 1997b; Kay, 2000;
Holt and Morley, 2004
|
Parents as car owners
|
Rowley, 1992
|
Relatively small family size
|
English Sports Council, 1997
|
Two-parent family
|
Rowley, 1992; Kay, 2000
|
Attendance at Independent School
|
Rowley, 1992
|
Table: social and economic influences on youth talent development in
sport (based on Bailey and Morley, 2006)
These, and other, factors show why any ambition of a fair and equitable sports development system in countries like the UK will always be difficult.
Think of these data this way: imagine a child who is talented in a sport; the absence of each factor listed in the table above becomes a barrier to that child's development NO MATTER HOW TALENTED, OR COMMITTED HE OR SHE IS.
Mr Gove's speech acknowledges the unfairness of the UK sports system. But there is another side to the matter: it is also stupid. It is stupid because participation and advancement in sport are always undermined by factors that have absolutely nothing to do with interest or ability.
So it is a refreshing to read Mr Gove's speech. Perhaps it will bring about renewed awareness of the problems inherent with the UK sport system (and all other Western systems). But this awareness needs to be coupled with an acknowledgement that simple solutions will not do.
We need a root and branch re-evaluation of the whole system, and a suite of solutions based on evidence. And we are a long way from adopting that sort of approach in sport.
Friday, 4 May 2012
How should we feel about the 'feelgood factor' at the London Olympics?
Just because you feel good
Doesn't make you right
Just because you feel good
Still want you here tonight.
Skunk Anansie, Hedonism
Prime Minister David Cameron thinks
that the Olympics will create a legacy for the whole of the UK and not
just London. But, true to his earlier statements about importance of
feelings and what-not, he warns that some of this legacy will be “hard to touch”.
The concept of 'hard to touch' is a strange
one in an era of evidence-based policy, in which, in the words of one civil
servant (presumably in thrall to the early philosophy of Wittgenstein), 'if I
can't measure it, it don't exist'. As you know, Wittgenstein
abandoned his early ideas and adopted a broader view, and perhaps Mr Cameron
has also been persuaded to take a more inclusive conception of reality. Or maybe he is just worried that the
only legacies of London 2012 will be immaterial.
Cameron's touchy-feeling tones when
discussing the Olympics are not without precedent. Consider this neat
piece of verbal gymnastics from New Labour's Game Plan policy
document, when it suggests that whilst the quantity of medals won at the
Olympics is of great importance, one must not neglect the “quality” of a
victory:
“‘Quality’ can be taken to be the extent to which victory produces the feelgood factor and national pride (as these are the main public benefits of high performance sport). If it is accepted that the more popular the sport, the greater the amount of feelgood which follows, then “quality” medals are those obtained in the most popular sports.”
So, according to Game Plan,
the feelgood factor is a quality that can be created and changed in amount
over time, and although it is admitted that it is “difficult to quantify”,
there seems little room for doubting that it can have a powerful causal effect.
So what is the feelgood factor, then?
In case you thought it was something to do with happiness, or
satisfaction, or well-being, or other philosophical fluff, the authors
of Game Plan tell us it can all be explained with hard science:
“The biological explanation for the feelgood sensation is due to the release of endorphin in the brain. Endorphin has been called the ‘happy hormone’ and is released for different reasons, mainly physical, but also from laughter and joy, experienced by, for example, your team winning a match. Endorphin helps to reduce pain and has even been found to enhance treatment of many illnesses and diseases.”
Remember that this piece of pseudo-scientific
woowoo comes from a government document; a document that is primarily
concerned with justifying the future of sport in the UK, and the billions of
pounds it says are needed to ensure it.
The feelgood factor has been repeatedly cited by governments and other agencies as one of the arguments for investment
in elite sport in general, and the London Olympics. In Game Plan, for example, it is listed as the first
of three 'virtuous outcomes' of elite sporting success (the others are economic
benefits and increased grass-roots participation).
If the Game Plan account is to be
accepted, the feelgood factor really means 'improved mood'. Perhaps you think that is a rather
feeble justification for close-to £10,000,000,000,000 expenditure from London
alone.
The weediness of the feelgood defence for
investment in elite sport is partly due to the fact that we can easily think of
more economical alternatives for generating good feelings and lifting our mood, from old episodes of Dad’s Army to Christmas with
family and friends, to a smile from a secret crush.
There is a second, more fatal
difficulty with the feelgood defence.
Improved mood following nice experiences is almost always short-lived. Humans are adaptive creatures (like all
creatures, in fact), and we readily adapt to changing environments. So improved mood or satisfaction
eventually results in a ‘hedonic treadmill’ by which the elevated state will
not continue, even if the circumstances that promote it are maintained.
In other words, the good mood that we hope
will come with the Olympic success will be short-lived, and will certainly last
a lot less time than it will take to pay off the debt from the Games.
And let’s not forget that moods – like
interest rates and skirt lengths – can go up as well as down. John Steele, former CEO of UK Sport,
spoke of the “the euphoria of a full Lord’s Cricket Ground … when a single
Ashes test was won”. But by the
same logic, any of England’s subsequent defeats would seem destined to result
in national despair. What will
happen to the feelgood factor if any of our Olympic hopefuls under-performs or
is injured?
If success in elite sport (let alone
second-hand, spectated success) has a potent positive effect on our mood,
presumably failure has the opposite.
And if this is true, then this is a real cause for concern, as the
nature of sports competition is that most players lose in the long-run.
These are not new arguments, nor particularly
scholarly. I am sure there are
those among the governments and their policy makers who know that the public
has been offered some pathetically weak rationale for their investment in the
Games. Personally, I’d prefer an
honest explanation like, ‘Hey, it’s the Olympics. We beat the French!’ I’d even take, ‘Look, I was a bit of a spotty geek at school; if we
get the Olympics, I get to hang out with Jessica Ennis and Victoria Pendleton!' I just wish they didn’t treat us like fools. It doesn't feel good at all.
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