Training Clarks employees in kids speech is a non-solution to the literacy crisis – and the government knows it

As politicians fret over backstops and trade agreements, they’re forgetting the very building blocks of our future

It’s also worth noting that those families with likely the greatest need for literacy support probably won’t be buying shoes at Clarks (Getty Images/iStockphoto)

Oh to be a continental newspaper journalist with an eye on Britain in 2019. You only need to squint across the Channel and focus on this sorry island nation, run by clowns and jokers, for an abundance of material so absurd your editor would be forgiven for accusing you of fabricating it.

And if – like practically anyone in any newsroom on this pitiable land mass – you start to develop the symptoms of Brexit fatigue, no need to despair: the barrel is far from dry. The UK government is the punchline that never gets old, and schooling is this week’s scapegoat of choice.

On Tuesday, the Department for Education announced what was no doubt intended to be a pragmatic and creative approach to solving a literacy skills deficit plaguing our country’s youngest citizens – the generation that will be tasked with undoing the very mess we’re busy creating.

Rather than allocating more cash to a desperately underfunded sector in a bid to attract more teachers, keep children’s centres open and provide nursery care so direly needed, the government has made the arguably slightly less obvious decision of turning to the ailing high street for an academic helping hand.

As part of the new measures, thousands of members of staff at shoe shop Clarks will be trained in “children’s speech, language and communication development”, the idea being that salespeople will essentially double up as nannies, boosting their young customers’ literacy skills while simultaneously helping them select the perfect pair of new kicks, all while quite possibly trembling for their own livelihood in the face of Amazon & Co’s stratospheric rise. Move over Mary Poppins.

According to the National Literacy Trust charity, the UK’s literacy crisis costs the economy £2.5bn every year. By the way the government is responding, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a minor inconvenience.

A recent study by the Education Policy Institute spelled out that almost one in three council-run secondary schools are now in deficit. The number of local authority secondary schools running at a loss has nearly quadrupled in four years.

Parents have admitted to having to shell out hundreds of pounds a year for basic resources – like textbooks and stationery – and further down the age spectrum, the situation is just as grim. Thousands of nurseries and childminders have left the Early Years Register since the current government was elected, despite an earlier Tory promise from David Cameron to be the most family-friendly government in history.

Westminster has repeatedly been criticised for underfunding schemes that should entitle parents to hours of free childcare, and yet their response to a snowballing educational crisis is akin to a shrug and a sympathetic nod at best.

Aside from Clarks, a handful of other well-intentioned corporations have signed up to collectively address the stupendous challenge, and they should be praised for their willingness to help. But by turning cap-in-hand to the private sector to help it tackle one of its gravest problems in such a superficial and perfunctory manner, the government is making a mockery of itself and of parents all over the country.

Perhaps this is a trivial aside, but it’s also worth noting that those families with likely the greatest need for literacy support, those with the lowest incomes and the most limited access to educational resources, probably won’t be buying shoes at Clarks. Try a decent charity shop instead.

Once again, the government has done something that can only be laughed at, or else we new parents might cry. As politicians fret over backstops and trade agreements, they’re forgetting the very building blocks of our future, our only hope of retaining some semblance of international respect in years to come. Unfortunate as it is, it’s going to take more than a shoe salesperson to save what’s left to save.