Jobs, pay and the future

I had an interesting discussion with my youngest daughter the other day about the future, job opportunities, etc.—the kinds of things we all worry about for our kids.

My daughter was clear that she wanted a good job. ‘What constitutes a good job?’ I asked. ‘One that pays well,’ was her reply. Well, that’s a valid answer. It’s great to have a well-paid job, but is that what makes it a good job? And what about being well paid? As I tried to explain to my daughter, ‘well paid’ is  a relative concept. You may work in the public sector and be lucky enough to have  a ‘well-paid’ job. If so, your notion of ‘well paid’ will be quite different from that of someone who works in the private sector and has a ‘well-paid’ job, simply because salaries are higher in the private sector than in the public sector. ‘Yes, but as I said, my definition of a good job is one that it is well paid,’ replied my daughter, coming right back at me. She’s not a fan of shades of grey!

When you’re young and don’t have any experience of the workplace, it’s easy to think that the ride will be straightforward. Good school education. University. Good degree. A good, well-paid job should follow, shouldn’t it? But that’s not always the case, of course. It can be difficult to get your foot on the first rung of the ladder, let alone end up in a position where you are senior enough to earn a good salary. Furthermore, it’s not just a case of getting a good degree; which degree is highly significant as well. As we all know, a degree in a science or engineering subject is a much surer route to a high earning job than is a degree in the arts or humanities. My daughter would like to do something that involves writing and pointed out to me that I had said that medical writing is well paid. That’s true—it is. But what she’d failed to take on board was my additional point that in order to be a medical writer you need at least a first degree (preferably a PhD) in the life sciences. So, medical writing isn’t an accessible career for someone with a degree in English.

On second thoughts, perhaps it’s better that we’re not aware of all this stuff when we’re young. Maybe it is just best to aim for what you love, in the belief that things will come together exactly as you would wish them to. After all, there’s always the chance that they will—and, if not, maybe it’s best to save up the disappointment and negativity for later!

Gender inequalities and success

I attended an interesting talk recently by academic Kate Hoskins.

It was all about successful women in academia -- specifically, what makes them successful and what are the barriers to success experienced by women. Hoskins interviewed a cohort of female UK professors in her quest to find answers to these questions. She also had a particular interest (due to her own non-traditional route into academia) in successful women who come from working class backgrounds.

Amongst the women who Hoskins interviewed, almost all became successful, not alone, but with the help of either a sponsor (someone influential in the field who had recognised their potential, picked them up and actively made opportunities for them) or a mentor (someone who had been assigned as a mentor to that person and thereby supported them, gave them advice, etc.). Several of the women also attributed their success simply to being in the right place at the right time.

The talk was thought provoking and got me musing quite a bit around the subject. What about people who succeed in the absence of a mentor or sponsor? Do men also become successful through the support of sponsors and mentors? What effect does part-time working have on success?

Other things that Hoskins touched on were:

• The effect that one's schooling can have on success. Those who are educated privately have a far higher chance of becoming successful. Did grammar schools give opportunities (or a leg up) to those who showed promise in a way that today's comprehensive system does not?
• How should we deal with the fact that women feel less confident about seeking out promotion than men? 
• Being middle class gives you privilege and opportunities, which, on the face of it, is a good thing. But there is a flip side. A child who comes from a middle class background will very much feel the weight of expectation to do well and to succeed. But what if their aspirations are different from those of their parents? Or what if they have no desire to become successful?  In that case, this weight of expectation may become disabling rather than enabling.

All big, important questions, which, I'm sure you will agree, are very interesting to consider...

The changing world of work

I read with interest the recent furore surrounding Greencore. This sandwich manufacturer, which supplies ready made sandwiches to several of the big supermarket chains, hit the news because it had been in Hungary hiring staff, when local unemployed people in Northampton (the factory's base) knew nothing about the vacancies. People were outraged that an employer was looking abroad, rather than locally in the first instance, to hire its staff.

However, what really struck me about this news story was something rather different. First off, I was somewhat surprised that sandwiches were made by people on a production line, having naively assumed that such an activity would be mechanised. It was also interesting that despite the long hours, low pay, and cold conditions that the work entailed, one employee (a graduate from Poland) considered the job "a great opportunity". I know a number of people in similar situations -- highly-qualified graduates from across the EU who work in low paid roles in the catering and hotel business. There simply isn't the work available in their specialist areas in their home countries, or indeed in this country, hence they are forced to  find work where they can. What counts as "a great opportunity", then, is very much relative -- dependent on the particular circumstances in which you find yourself.

Things have changed a lot over the past three decades or so. Graduating in the very early nineties, I was just at the start of the employment situation becoming tougher. Having a good degree from a good university was no longer a passport to anywhere you wanted to go in the world of work. Ten years earlier, and things were quite different. A colleague recently told the story of how he dropped out of university at the end of his first year and then managed to get a job as a radiographer (without any experience in the area). Several years later, he returned to university and studied for an undergraduate and a Masters degree simultaneously! That kind of trajectory simply wouldn't be possible in today's world.

All of this makes me feel nervous for my own children. I (and they) assume that they will go to university but where, exactly, will that lead them? Quite possibly into low paid and/or unskilled roles with few prospects. Or perhaps halfway across the globe in search of something better. Or maybe, just maybe, things will have come full circle over the next decade and the world will again be their oyster.

The decline of literacy

Interesting incident on the way in to work today. I had the misfortune to be walking in just before nine. Misfortune because all the students are making their way to their first lectures of the day at this time and they literally take over. Fill up the entire pavement by walking in large groups. Whizz along the road on bikes, skipping red lights and almost causing accidents left, right and centre.

Anyway, I was walking along next to one such large group when one of the young men piped up with ‘What does “panache” mean?...Only I want to be able to describe myself that way.' Sounds a bit risky, if you ask me, wanting to describe yourself with a word for which you don’t know the meaning. But the really interesting thing was that not one of his colleagues was able to answer his question. I helpfully obliged, which was met with thanks and comments along the lines of ‘Oh, so that’s what it means!’, rolled around on the tongue as if discovering a new and interesting vintage.

Now, this was a group of Oxford University students. It is natural to assume that such people will be bright, be educated and, quite frankly, know the meaning of a word such as ‘panache’. I could settle for one student in the group not knowing the meaning—but all of them? Come on!

And it’s not the first time that I’ve come across this kind of deficit. I work with a group of Oxbridge-educated postdocs who frequently don’t seem to know the meaning of words that I would consider commonplace. They also seem to lack the ability to spell.

So why is this? Is it that these people are scientists and so don’t have a bent for language? Language is my first love and I read and write all the time, so it makes sense that I have a wide vocabulary and know how to spell. Or is it an age thing? Perhaps young people aren’t taught English in the way that I was back in the 70s and 80s. Yet both my children are good writers, can spell, and seem to me to have large vocabularies (they are both voracious readers). Or maybe it’s genetic—my father was a writer, I am a writer, and my children appear to be following the family tradition.

Call me old fashioned (and, believe me, I often feel old fashioned when writing my blog articles!), but I think that the whole language package (writing, spelling, words) is undervalued and has become increasingly undervalued in the years since I was a child. You only have to look at the UK higher education landscape these days to realise that the areas most strongly supported and funded are the sciences (particularly those perceived as leading to human health benefits) and vocational subjects. Education no longer appears to be valued for its own sake, which means that the humanities in general are being systematically eroded. And it tends to be in the humanities that language—the ability to communicate, to express oneself well in writing, to be vividly descriptive as well as analytic—really thrives.

Yet, in my opinion, education should be about something more than a narrow-minded learning of one’s subject—whether that subject is scientific, artistic or vocational. It should be about awareness of the wider world, having an appreciation of culture and literature, and—yes—being able to write, spell, and use words correctly.

Changes to GCSEs

The government recently announced changes to the GCSE examinations in England -- the biggest overhaul "for a generation", to coin their words.

Some of the basic changes are as follows:

• A new grading system based on numbers (1-9) rather than the current system based on letters (A*-G).
• Modular assessments to be replaced by full exams taken at the end of the two years of study.
• In English literature students will study texts in detail and these will include high-quality works by authors such as Shakespeare and the Romantic poets.
• There will be more marks awarded for spelling, punctuation and grammar.
• The new maths exam will cover more topics and be more challenging.

For those of us who took the old O' level exams at sixteen--over "a generation" ago, I suppose--these changes sound very familiar. O' levels had no course work whatsoever and one final exam was taken for each subject at the end of the two years of study. Correct spelling, grammar and punctuation were regarded as very important and marks awarded accordingly. Some of the maths questions that were set in the O' level exam were genuinely hard, even for those people who were good mathematicians. And we certainly studied "high-quality" literature--always a Shakespeare play and a selection of other classics. In fact, I wonder what English literature is all about if students don't study (at least some) "high-quality" texts.

So, it's not so much a major change to GCSEs, rather a major reversion to the old system of a generation ago. Plus ça change...

Back to school

It was back to school this week for both my kids, so as soon as we returned home from holiday, we ran through the usual pre-school round of bag packing, checking name labels, thinking about what to buy for packed lunches, etc., etc. Back to reality...

However, for my oldest, it wasn't just a new year in the same school, but a different school altogether. She started at secondary. (I still can't believe that we have reached this stage so quickly. It seems not that long ago that she was a newborn baby...)

I had the honour of doing the first day of the secondary school run and, although my daughter was a little apprehensive, what really struck me was how nervous I felt. It was as if it was my first day in a new job, or perhaps my first day at a new school (although in truth, my memory doesn't stretch back that far and I have no idea how I felt on my first day of secondary school).

Despite the fact that my kids are growing up and becoming more independent by the day, it's interesting how close the connection between us remains.

Starter for Ten

I've just finished reading "Starter for Ten" by David Nicholls. This is, I think, the third time that I've read this novel over the past few years--and it is exceptionally good, even on the third time of reading.

Somehow, Nicholls' descriptions of people and the way they behave, not to mention the way they feel, are just so apt. Many of us, I am sure, can relate to, or sympathise with, the inept protagonist, Brian, who as a nineteen-year-old university student is just so out of his depth--or at least that's how it feels to him. Other highly recognisable types are Brian's public school, rugger bugger housemates; the (again) public school blonde who is utterly beautiful, and knows it; and the angry Glaswegian with a heart of gold--the girl who we all know Brian should be with, really.

And, of course, the juxtaposition of university life with "The Challenge" is quite brilliant. The build up, the atmosphere, the Q&As as chapter openers. All great.

Before "Starter for Ten" I hadn't even heard of David Nicholls. And, in fact, it was the film of "Starter for Ten" that drew my attention to his work. I saw the trailer and immediately wanted to see the film. It was a nostalgia trip for me, really. I was at university in the 1980s and the music, The Challenge, the whole situation resonated with me. I loved it. Once I realised that the film was based on a book, I read the book. And I loved that too.

Of course, the novel for which Nicholls is really feted is "One Day". And that's a brilliant book too. Very sad, and a fantastic concept. Yet, somehow, I still prefer "Starter for Ten". Probably because it's set in a world that I am completely familiar with and fully understand. Although I spent significant amounts of time in my yoof watching the trashy late-night TV that features so heavily in "One Day" (whatever happened to Terry Christian...?), I was never a part of that world. Not in the showbiz sense, at least.

Lunch at an Oxford college

I had an interesting experience the other day--a friend invited me as her guest to lunch at an Oxford college. It proved quite an eye opener.

What very soon became apparent was that tradition is certainly not dead at Oxford (just in case you were in any doubt!). As a part-time college lecturer my friend is permitted three free lunches per week in college, and she can bring one guest with her per lunch.

She (and others) may well be permitted free lunches, but hierarchy abounds in the system. First off, there are two dining halls. The one my friend attends is the ‘senior’ dining hall, which seats all staff who hold sufficiently senior positions within the college. Below this is the ‘other’ dining hall, which seats students and those members of staff who are not sufficiently senior to merit admittance to the ‘senior’ dining hall. (When I say ‘below’, I mean that literally as well as metaphorically--diners entering the upstairs dining hall are able to gaze down on the plebs below via an elevated viewing platform.)

There is also a form of hierarchy at work within the ‘senior’ dining hall. This centres on the (silver!) napkin rings, which are numbered. The more senior you are within college, the lower the number of your napkin ring. As a part-time, fixed-term college lecturer, my friend was languishing somewhere in the seventies, followed only by hourly paid tutors and junior research fellows. As a guest, I had no ring, but I did have a napkin. Thick white linen, no less!

The lunch itself is pretty full on—a hot main course with vegetarian option (or you can have a salad if you prefer), followed by a hot pudding (or fruit or cheese and biscuits, if healthy eating is your thing). There’s a choice of still or sparkling mineral water and tea/coffee (cappuccinos and lattes available too!) to conclude. As soon as you've finished, your dishes are whisked away by one of the hovering, dark-suited waiters.

After lunch my friend gave me a tour of the college. I saw the beautiful drawing rooms in which people relax with a cup of coffee and the paper, the Fellows' Garden (students are admitted, but must keep noise levels to a minimum), the rolling mound of a recently-discovered underground wine cellar in the grounds of the oldest part of college...

It was more like a stately home or a top notch hotel than an educational establishment. It was a treat to be a guest, but I'm not sure that I would have liked to be a student there. My alma mater, the University of Edinburgh, despite its ancient roots was fully integrated into modern life, even in the 1980s, when I was there. And I rather liked that.