The School Adjudicator

How to determine the sensitive issue of school admission policies? More power to an unaccountable Quango, of course. The Direct Democracy campaign has been quick to identify examples of unelected bodies making decisions which affect the lives of people to whom the decision makers are unaccountable. In addition to the usual list of quangos, the Courts and the European Commission, I would like to add another - the Office of the School Adjudicator. And in the last week, its powers have been substantially enhanced.

The role of the school adjudicator came in to being as a consequence of the School Standards and Framework Act 1998. A school adjudicator (there are eight individuals in total) is appointed by the Education Secretary but must be, of course, independent from the Department of Education and Skills.

The principal function of an adjudicator is to 'decide on objections to published admission arrangements from parents and others for admitting children to primary or secondary schools in England'. In other words, it decides who does and does not get a place in a popular school.

This week, the Government published the final version of the School Admissions Code. The Code itself is a sop to the Labour Left, unhappy about the principal purpose of the Education and Inspections Act.

The most prominent controversy provoked by the first draft of the Code related to the admission policies of partially selective schools, ie those schools which are permitted to select academically a proportion of their intake. There are more than thirty such schools in England and, as it happens, there is a cluster of such schools in and around my constituency.

The first draft of the Code stated that these schools should not be permitted to give priority to the siblings of existing pupils.

The Government believes that a priority for siblings at a partially selective school 'may lead to the school's intake including a disproportionately high number of children who would have passed the selection test, as some younger siblings would be likely to have passed the selection test if they had taken it'. The Government thinks this is regrettable and wants to do something about it.

This is an entirely legitimate point of view but, for various reasons, I happen to think this approach is wrong. More to the point, hundreds of parents disagree with the Government and launched an energetic campaign to highlight the flaws in the policy. Even the Labour MP in the neighbouring (and highly marginal) seat of Watford, forthrightly condemned her own Government's proposal, notwithstanding that she is a Government whip.

So how does the Government respond? The final version of the Code makes it perfectly clear that the Government continues to dislike the fact that partially selective schools may give priority to siblings. However, rather than imposing a ban, the Code now determines that a school may retain the policy if it is able to persuade the school adjudicator that the policy is fair to those families living near the school. Nobody knows what this really means (certainly not the head teachers to whom I have spoken) and this uncertainty will give enormous discretion to the adjudicator.

As someone who has campaigned against prohibition of the sibling priority, I welcome the fact that a concession has been made. However, this episode provides an excellent example of how the Government hides behind unaccountable bodies which can pursue policies at variance with the views of local people.

Nobody should be surprised if, in a couple of years' time, the school adjudicator determines that a partially selective school may not give priority to siblings. Parents, schools, councillors and MPs (including a Government frontbencher) will protest. And it will make no difference because, subject to judicial review, the adjudicator's decision is final.

There are a relatively small number of partially selective schools. However, as a consequence of the Code, the adjudicator will have a role in supervising the admission policies of all schools.

Most of the publicity relating to the Code since its publication has related to the fact that the Government appears to be discouraging the use of catchment areas. As well as suggesting that a school uses lotteries to determine who gets a place when the school is oversubscribed, the Code states that, if using distance as an oversubscription criterion, admission authorities 'should ensure that families who are less able to afford property nearest the school are not excluded'. And, in drawing up catchment areas, admission authorities 'should ensure that they reflect the diversity of the community served by the school'.

These requirements are both vague and complex. And who determines whether a school has satisfied them? The school adjudicator. In the years' ahead, we have the prospect of schools having their catchment areas reviewed and amended by this unelected quango, leaving parents unable to make their voice heard.

The adjudicator's remit on school admissions is also somewhat wider than might be expected in that it goes beyond the role of supervising many aspects of a school's oversubscription criteria. It even has a say on school uniform policy.

There are various models of accountability in the education system. You can give greater freedom to schools and make them accountable to parents through parental choice. You can give power to local or national government, and attempt to obtain accountability through the ballot box. And you can have a combination of the two. But the structure set out in the School Admission Code and the powers given to the school adjudicator means that, when it comes to many important aspects of schools policy, we have neither.

It is one more victory the mania for 'taking the politics out of public services' and one more defeat for accountability.