It was reported on Friday that “The Secretary of State for Education has… announced that there will be a public consultation on the future content of the national curriculum – including Religious Education – in September.” This has generally been very well received, and most people in the RE world are excited by this hoping that it will raise the status and quality of RE, and in the words of the Curriculum and Assessment Review it will hopefully “improve access to high-quality provision and to prevent further diminishment.”

There are elements of its announcement and processes that worry me. I must point out that I am not privy to all of the discussions or processes, so I am working from what has been publicly announced and discussed.

Bridget Phillipson, Secretary of State for Education has said:

In such fractured times, it should be a source of hope that those representing the full spectrum of religion in this county have reached consensus on the most fundamental of points: what our children should learn about the world’s faiths, communities and traditions.

This is where my concern begins. The suggestion is that it represents the ‘full spectrum of religion.’ I remember discussing the DfE suggested content for GCSE and A Level Religious Studies in about 2014. On querying why certain groups had been included and not others, I was told that the religious groups in the drafting of the document were those with faiths schools. It would appear that lessons have been learned and that a broader range of groups have been drawn on, not least because, quite rightly, representatives of Humanism were included. From what I can see this includes:

• the Church of England, 
• Catholic Education Service, 
• Board of Deputies of British Jews 
• Office of the Chief Rabbi,
• the Association of Muslim Schools
• leaders of Hindu schools 
• leaders of Sikh schools 
• Humanists UK

I’m not sure this has gone much beyond what happened in 2014; maybe only the addition of Humanism. Indeed, from this list Buddhist representation is missing from the larger six religious traditions in the UK. When I consider the Covid-19 restrictions that were brought in and the subsequent relaxing of rules, it was evident that the Government does not seem to think outside of their own experience. People of many religions, in my interviews with them, have articulated that there is a lack of religious literacy in various departments that means that concerns and sensibilities are not considered, rather than them being ignored. Is this the case in the organisation of this working group. This leads me to reflect on the questions posed by Michael Apple:

Whose knowledge is it? Who selected it? Why is it organized and taught in this way? To this particular group? The mere act of asking these questions is not sufficient, however. One is guided, as well, by attempting to link these investigations to competing conceptions of social and economic power and ideologies (Apple, 2019, 6).

I have to point out at this point that knowing some of the people involved in the group, I know they would consider the thoughts of others beyond their own experience; but this cannot be assumed in the forming of all consultative groups.

Further elements that highlight these concerns came when Bridget Phillipson outlined that the working group included “every major faith and a wide range of communities have come together to agree a shared vision.” There are a couple of things with which I take issue. Firstly, the use of the term ‘major’; there is the possibility of a superior attitude, a paternalistic approach to smaller traditions. Sometimes this is because of a superiority in numbers, or a perceived superiority in belief and practice. One of the most evident expressions is in the use of the term ‘major’ religion, meaning that others are minor or unimportant. Using language such as larger and smaller reframes the discussion. I know, I might be seen to be slightly sensitive in this area as others may not have the same issue. This seeming ‘superiority’ or ‘paternalism’ is reinforced with a further comment from Bridget Phillipson:

Learning about the world’s great faiths and traditions teaches children not just about the world, but how to live alongside and tolerate one another within it.

Although I ahve huge issue with toleration as a goal of anything, let alone the curriculum, I understand the positive intent. It is the phrase ‘great faith’s that grates, I’ve only heard this phrase used once in the RE world, and in the context, it was used, it seemed very exclusionary. Its use was designed to prioritise certain religions and reject or belittle others. This is an attitude reflected in an Avengers comic book when Thor and Captain America are talking:

Thor: Are you okay, Rogers? 

Captain America (Steve Rogers): Fine, but some of your friends here could use a little lesson in manners . . . 

Thor: Listen, I’m sorry about this. I really didn’t want that to happen and I’m serious when I said I’d nothing to do with outing Banner. That said, I think I know who might have released those files. 

Captain America: Who? 

Thor: My evil half-brother, Loki. A messenger from Asgard came to warn me that he escaped from his bonds again and journeyed to Midgard to do everything he could to- 

Captain America: Thor, please. 

Thor: What? 

Captain America: Just shut up. 

Thor: You go to church every Sunday, Captain. What I’ve got to say’s no stranger than that (The Ultimates 2 Volume 1: Gods and Monsters (2005), p. 17).

Thor raises an interesting point, just because Captain America’s beliefs seem to be more modern or accepted by more people in society does not make them less, nor does it mean they should be ignored. I have written and spoken at length about the inclusion of minority voices in the RE Classroom (see Holt, 2019). 

I am heartened that the localness of RE is focussed on in the discussions of any upcoming curriculum design, and hopefully this means that there is a place for the voices of smaller religions. However, the inclusion of smaller religions should not be tokenistic, and it should not be with the feeling of being ‘done to.’ One of the most impactful narratives that articulates these concerns is Poverty Safari by Darren McGarvey. Although he speaks in a different context, the worries are the same, when people are not part of the conversation they can feel excluded:

It’s the belief that the system is rigged against you and that all attempts to resist or challenge it are futile. That the decisions that affect your life are being taken by a bunch of other people somewhere else who are deliberately trying to conceal things from you. A belief that you are excluded from taking part in the conversation about your own life. This belief is deeply held by people in many communities and there is a very good reason for it: it’s true (Darren McGarvey (2018) Poverty Safari: Understanding the Anger of Britain’s Underclass, 37).​

Enthusiasm to take part and be active in communities quickly dissipates when people realise the local democracy isn’t really designed with them in mind; that it’s designed primarily so that people from outside the community can retain control of it, over the heads of those who live there. (48-49).

McGarvey suggests that in such structures where people feel that their voices are not heard the desire to participate diminishes:

The faster they feel they have a stake in participating, the less likely they are to revolt or become apathetic. The sooner they get into the book, the harder they’ll find it to put down (6-7). ​

I have suggested that while the status quo could continue and children will still be well adjusted if they do not see their religion in the curriculum, but there is much value to be found for the students and the curriculum in an inclusion of diverse voices. I am often surprised when speaking with young people that they seem unaware of the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes, where it is the child with the smallest voice who speaks the most sense. In society and life, we can learn much from those with what are perceived as ‘smaller’ voices.  It may not be that things are changed to the suggestions of the minority, but listening to their viewpoint and contributions is transformative. 

An approach that doesn’t include these voices seems to prioritise majority expressions of larger religious traditions.  I am very concerned about a society where the loudest voices seem to shout down anyone who dares to have something to add to the discussion. There are examples of reasoned debate, but the desire to learn from others seems to have been sacrificed on the altar of maintaining entrenched positions. The ability to listen to others, and most especially listen to the experiences of those who are in a minority can help us become more understanding and reflective.

In contributing evidence to the Commission on RE in previous years I was surprised by a comment from one of the commissioners who ‘did not see the problem’ and thought what occurred already was enough. If I share a personal experience to illustrate why this might be problematic. I am blind in one eye and have always been so. This means I cannot watch 3D films, the glasses we use now reduces the blurriness, but the red and blue glasses only enabled me to see blue movies.

Watching Jaws 3D with my brother, I was moaning because everything was blue; he, however, had two functioning eyes and dismissed my concerns because from his perspective all was fine. If we are in a majority, and our needs are taken care of, we might be blind to the experience of the minority. If this is the case, we should take time to reflect on our own place in the power dynamics and exercise humility and interest. 

Two specific examples illustrate this for me. In my conversation with the commissioner I mentioned above, he suggested that the setting of a homework project to research a smaller religion was sufficient to meet the needs I was outlining. I suggested that he rephrase his statement with regards to his own religion, and whether he would be happy with the tokenistic approach he suggested.

The second experience surrounded a discussion on social media where it was outlined that one awarding organisation did not include The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as Christian. I am a member of that Church and so take issue with this policy from official establishments that have an impact on children. Their definition of a Christian was someone who belonged to the World Council of Churches. The unsuitability of such a definition that seems, quite reasonably, to pass the problem of definition to an outside body is the inadvertent exclusion of other groups. As an ecumenical organisation, to bring together all Churches, the Roman Catholic Church did not join (but has cordial relations). Following the organisation of the WCC in 1948, Pope Pius XII addressed the lack of involvement in all ecumenical organisations in 1949:

The Catholic Church, although she does not take part in congresses and other conventions called “ecumenical,” yet has never ceased, as is clear from many Pontifical documents, nor will she in future ever cease, to follow with the most intense interest and to promote by earnest prayers to God, all efforts toward the attainment of what is so dear to the Heart of Christ Our Lord, namely, that all who believe in Him “may be made perfect in one.” For she embraces with truly maternal affection all who return to her as the true Church of Christ … (Pius XII, 1949).

This may be one of the reasons that other denominations which may be excluded from the Christian family in some people’s eyes reject involvement in the WCC, and it may appear that there is a double standard being employed. I pointed this out, and it was met with indignation that I suggested Roman Catholics were not Christian- I pointed out it was not me, but the awarding organisation’s policy.

I share this to illustrate that even when the most well-meaning of people engage in discussion, the exclusion of certain voices might mean that things get missed, people overlooked and misunderstandings occur.

I have not seen the detail of the proposal and my concerns may be unfounded, in which case I will need to issue an apology. The consultation will give people a voice, but my further concern with a. consultation is ones I have been through in the past where decisions seem to have been made already. 

Let me finish with a positive, Bridget Phillipson articulates the imporance of the subject with which I whole heartedly agree:

With so much focus on what divides us – and race and religion so often at the heart of that division – equipping young people with the knowledge, understanding and values that religious education teaches could hardly be more important.

Simialarly, the Government’s commitment to RE is heartening:

The government considers RE a vital subject that develops children’s knowledge of faiths, values and traditions – both in Britain and around the world – and fosters understanding between different communities.

The question I wait to have answered is whether it will be inclusive in a way where people will feel recognised and heard.