Abstract
My first encounter with the term ‘neo-liberalism’ was a summary definition in my Bachelor of Science Psychology degree textbook. I automatically drew inferences from the etymological roots of the term, attracted by the suggestion of new liberties, a promise of a more egalitarian society and a sense that this meant emancipation for the uniqueness of our individual characters. As a young male embarking on my career in education, the term was, on the surface at least, immediately appealing. This deception could not have been more apt for a term which, on further investigation, describes the insidious forces that perpetuate the toxic free-market agenda and have impeded progress in education since the 1980s (Monbiot, 2017).
Guy Roberts-Holmes and Peter Moss’s (2021) timely account of neo-liberal free markets and their impact on education is a tour de force that takes the reader on a journey spanning a century of neo-liberal creep. The layers of exposition range from the sociopolitical and economic to the pedagogical, ethical and philosophical impact of this ‘powerful force’ (2). What makes this feel distinctively different from other accounts, however, is the authors’ refusal to be subsumed by this force. Tracing its history across generations, they deftly synthesize various neo-liberal strands, capturing this snake of deception and rendering it visible. In so doing, they encourage the reader (and the communities they represent) to accept that there are ways for individuals and communities to reject neo-liberal hegemony through cohesive action and ethical repositioning. The serendipitous timing of this book, published in the midst of a global pandemic in which systems of power and control were challenged by a convergence of crises (see Klein, 2008, quoted in Roberts-Holmes and Moss, 2021: 13), appeals to a contemporary audience of thinkers and actors from across the early childhood sector and beyond.
Despite the apparent synchronicity, I was still left wishing that I had been able to heed the warnings in this book a decade ago, when I was the lead author for a primary-phase free school application. The Secretary of State for Education in the UK at the time was Michael Gove, and his ‘free school’ initiative had enticed me with its appeal to empower parents and local communities seeking to create new sources of much-needed innovation in education. Our collective vision was for a Froebelian primary school with outdoor and community-based experiences at the heart (and hands) of the provision. I still remember sitting in a New Schools Network event in London, listening to Gove's rousing speech about how we were ‘pioneers’, ‘agents of change’ and ‘innovators’. I recall wriggling uncomfortably as we were reminded that we needed to be ruthless about proving that our schools could ‘beat the competition’, and that parental choice would define which providers remained open and which would be forced to close. This competitive environment did not sit well with me, at any level. As someone who simply wanted to introduce an innovative educational provision in what was otherwise a homogenous local offer, I was reminded again of the politically toxic game that I had become obliviously embroiled in. Gove's monocultural Latin references still ring loud in my memory – a symptom of the ‘many successful and political narratives, provid[ing] not only a set of economic or political ideas, but also an account of who we are and how we behave’ (Monbiot, 2017, quoted in Roberts-Holmes and Moss, 2021: 5). If only I had been then armed with my copy of Neoliberalism and Early Childhood Education: Markets, Imaginaries and Governance!
The authors highlight numerous ethical problems that are presented by the free marketization of early childhood education (Lloyd, 2012). They emphasize how shockingly inappropriate it is that even children and childhood are not beyond the grip of unbridled commercial gain. In spite of the progress made by philosophers, pedagogues and politicians over centuries in protecting childhood rights, it took mere decades, if not years, to stealthily dismantle these safeguards right under our noses. Parents, teaching staff, school leaders, cross-party politicians, health professionals and invested citizens were all, to some degree or other, hoodwinked into the inescapable jaws of the neo-liberal ouroboros – the ancient symbol of the snake consuming its own tail for eternity. This book is our latest (and perhaps greatest) defiance. Furthermore, it offers some possible ways of escaping this self-perpetuating and all-consuming ouroboros through community action and a consolidated diversion of funding from privatized systems towards one which is ‘democratic, collaborative and public’ (Roberts-Holmes and Moss, 2021: 175). By shining a light through the cracks in the perennial wall of neo-liberal dominance, the authors reveal the contortion and obscurity projected onto the discursive images of the ‘homo-politicus’ (the democratically engaged citizen) and the ‘homo carens’ (caring people fighting for social justice) (Shenk, 2015). There is a sense, while reading, that it is the convergence and synthesis of various paradigmatic lenses that provides sufficient illumination to ground the reader in what would have otherwise been nearly impossible to disentangle from their own consumed positionality. It is difficult to avoid irony when publishing anything in the context of a free market, where it is impossible to escape hypocrisy when using market channels to amplify an argument beyond the pervasive and droning neon buzz of the neo-liberal attraction itself. As an English Literature graduate, I was immediately reminded of William Blake's poetic illustration of this inescapability – the human endeavour for justice encumbered by our own inner demons:
Roberts-Holmes and Moss trace the roots of neo-liberalism to its inception in 1947 at the Mont Pelerin Society in Switzerland, arguing that the spawning webs of free-market thinking set the foundations for a movement which would later gain momentum in the political era of the 1980s, dominated by the Thatcher and Regan regimes (Mirowski, 2014). They highlight the role that the Global Educational Reform Movement played in scattering the seeds of neo-liberal policy throughout the global economy, resulting in education rapidly becoming marketized as ‘an entrepreneurial sector of the economy‘ (Ravitch, 2013, quoted in Roberts-Holmes and Moss, 2021: 40). Neo-liberalism demands that we are motivated by the drive to grow our individual ‘human capital’, raise the collective gross domestic product of our nation states, and, in turn, contribute to global prosperity. This, the authors argue, is the result of a false association between economic prosperity and individual human flourishing, where the ‘selfish loves increase’ (Bloom, 1987: 27). The tangible shift towards the ethical, ecologically sustainable and ‘more than human’ during the global pandemic perhaps offers us the greatest chance in shifting the neo-liberal rhetoric towards an economic model that recognizes the ethical and conservational as greater priorities than the arbitrary swelling of numbering and division:
At risk of being guilty of oversimplifying the equation, the neo-liberal problem is also exacerbated by the hardwired fallibility of our decision-making functions. How can a model that is based on a premise of free-market choice be successful when the individuals making the choices are themselves flawed by numerous heuristic traps that can impair sound judgement and fuel the manipulation and casuistry that are the beating heart of this monolithic economic beast. Throughout the book, various traps are articulated that remind us of the absurdity that the foundations for our early childhood offer have become the tragic victim of ‘Big Business’ (Roberts-Holmes and Moss, 2021: 70). Roberts-Holmes and Moss allude to various symptoms of neo-liberalism that have crept into large-scale chain nursery provisions, which thrive on metrics, key performance indicators, ‘desirable’ professional attributes and training programmes – all of which contribute to a pedagogical ethos that prioritizes outcomes and ‘products’ over experience, collective action, community and aspirations for ‘public good’ (173) in the face of adversity. In contrast to the pervasive sense of frustration and injustice that informs the exposition of neo-liberalism, the authors have made a concerted effort to shine a light of hope for possible escape routes.
The main issue here is visibility, or lack thereof. The structural hegemony of neo-liberalism is stealthily camouflaged by its all-pervasive abundance in our economy, society, and individual motivations and ways of being in the world. Roberts-Holmes and Moss promote a raised awareness in the academic and professional mind, one that has the power to defamiliarize and encourage criticality so that ‘transformation becomes both very urgent, very difficult, and quite possible’ (Foucault, 1988, quoted in Roberts-Holmes and Moss, 2021: 153). Indeed, the unprecedented historical context in which the book is authored is, arguably, a pivotal moment in western consciousness – one in which the disruption and uncertainty rupture the ‘maxims of our times’ (154) and make way for different interpretations, perspectives and ways of being in the world. The philosophical threads in the book become an essential compass for the reader in their navigation of this territory, promising a destination where ‘the early childhood centre [becomes] a public service … serving its local community [as] the collective provision of a public good’ (173). Excusing the Govean terminology, this is a bugle call for collective inspiration, solidarity, individual integrity and a shift towards a more eudaemonic structure with a civic education system to match.
The timeliness of this publication has also enabled the addendum of a final chapter exploring the impact of the pandemic on the neo-liberal landscape. Indeed, the collectivist initiatives that surfaced, and the pervasive sense of communities coming together to find solutions in the face of adversity, have led to a resurgence of campaigns that are designed to join the dots – cooperation as the antithesis to competition. A new Cross-party manifesto (Early Years Commission, 2021: 4) calls on community organizations, parents and society as a whole to join forces in committing to the best start in life for all children, and marks a promising start for a campaign to unite our nations in a shared aspiration for public good. The 1001 Days movement (HM Government, 2021) has gained substantial momentum since its inception and continues to move from strength to strength with support from a vast array of ethically aligned and focused organizations. The Royal Foundation's (2021) Centre for Early Childhood is built on a vision to work with people and organizations from across the sector to develop creative campaigns and raise awareness for positive change in the early years. Many of the larger international non-governmental organizations, which Roberts-Holmes and Moss claim have interfered in global educational paradigms to our detriment, appear to be shifting towards a more localized and community-focused agenda, highlighting the impact that the local community has on our individual and collective resilience and creative solutions in the face of adversity (Tawil and Locatelli, 2015). This may be felt by many as too little, too late – a hard-to-swallow hypocrisy. However, I am personally hopeful that the neo-liberal animal might, eventually, become motivated not by the swelling of wealth but by sensitively derived ethical agendas that are designed to bring communities together for a better future. Indeed, there appears to be an exciting movement in decisions that promote the eudaemonic as an antidote to reductionist and individualistic hedonism (Walton, 2021). Preservation of the natural world, the value of education as a holistic tool and the emancipation of our younger citizens’ agency in society are all themes that can increasingly be found woven into contemporary dialogues and discourses. Coupled with an awakening of the individual and collective consciousness, perhaps ‘post-COVID generativity’ marks a fork in the road for the future of early childhood education and, moreover, for society in general.