Gavin Williamson’s fate reminds us why we need the arm’s-length principle

(Photo by PAUL ELLIS/AFP via Getty Images)
The secure phone rings on the Education Secretary’s desk. It’s the prime ministerial holiday residence again. “That’s another fine mess you got us into, Gavin!” “Oh, Boris, I’m sorry,” the thin man replies. For the umpteenth time since lockdown, the fat man scolds him. “Why didn’t you listen when that Ofqual chappie warned you that their algorithm would favour smaller classes? Didn’t you see how that would look — as though we were helping schools like mine instead of schools like yours?” “But Boris, you told me to let Ofqual do their job. Arm’s-length principle, you said. Now we’re letting teachers mark exams, grade inflation in GCSEs as well as A-levels is out of control.”
“Gavin, you idiot, we can’t afford to lose the Red Wall voters. Tell the universities to make better-off students take a gap year.” “But won’t that annoy them, Boris, and their parents? And aren’t we meant to keep universities at arm’s-length, too?” “To hell with the arm’s-length principle, Gavin. You broke it, you pay for it. What did Hezza once promise? To intervene before breakfast, before lunch, before tea, before dinner. Get on with it, Gavin. I want the kids back in school in a fortnight — even if you have to do the school run yourself.”
The tale of Gavin Williamson is an object lesson in what can go wrong when ministers meddle. The Education Secretary was first criticised for being slow to lock down the schools, although the evidence that they were spreading Covid-19 was never strong. Then, once he did intervene, he was castigated for failing to ensure that they were teaching their pupils online. He decided to ban students from sitting A-levels, although this could have been done with social distancing. Ignoring warnings, Williamson walked straight into the trap of mediating between grade-hungry schools and the arbitrary algorithms of Ofqual, the body charged with maintaining examination standards. As a result, he has been denounced from all sides: teachers, parents, officials and, of course, the media.
Now Tory backbenchers are breaking ranks to call for the scalp of the former Chief Whip — a loyal minister, but never a popular one. By the time Parliament returns in the week after next, the Conservatives could well be trailing Labour in the polls for the first time since Boris Johnson replaced Theresa May.
Yet there is sympathy, if not support, for our bungling Education Secretary from one unexpected quarter. Vernon Bogdanor, constitutional expert and sometime contributor to TheArticle, writes in a letter to the Times (behind a paywall) that he has “more sympathy with Gavin Williamson than most commentators” over the A-level fiasco. Professor Bogdanor explains that Ofqual is not one of the executive agencies, like for example Public Health England, which are designed to remove the delivery of public services from Whitehall. The examinations watchdog was set up as a non-ministerial department, “since no one wants politicians to get their sticky fingers on examination outcomes”. It is meant to armour-plate the arm’s-length principle, so that higher grades cannot be imposed for political advantage.
“Had [Williamson] taken a more interventionist line at an earlier stage, he would have been rightly accused of seeking to manipulate exam results for political purposes,” Professor Bogdanor writes. Yet the hapless Williamson has ended up with the worst of all outcomes. He has set a bad precedent by intervening in public examinations and university admissions for the wholly political purpose of social engineering; he has presided over the biggest ever annual leap in grade inflation; he has made himself the most unpopular holder of his office in history; and he has damaged the Government’s already shaky reputation for competence. The odds on Gavin Williamson being in his present job by Christmas must be on a par with those on John Bercow getting a peerage.
There is a lesson to be learned from this sorry saga, however. The arms-length principle is a precious one, worth preserving even in the face of a hue and cry on social media. Margaret Thatcher was right to begin the process of minimising the power of politicians to intervene by setting up arms-length executive agencies. Ministers are answerable to Parliament for public services, but wherever possible the delivery should be delegated. To revert to Lord Heseltine’s mania for ministerial intervention would be a retrograde step back from good governance. If and when the Prime Minister makes an example of Gavin Williamson, it should serve as a warning against ministerial meddling. As Voltaire observes in his Candide, in England it is considered good form “to kill an admiral from time to time pour encourager les autres”.