For a list of the current Friends of the Scottish Review, click here
The opening ceremony of the London Olympics was described by many commentators not simply as ‘a fine spectacle’ but as ‘the greatest show on earth’. That set the tone for much of what followed.
Whenever a major sporting event occurs, the BBC now becomes the British Boasting Corporation, endlessly talking up the prospects and achievements of British competitors. In common with most viewers, I want Scottish, English, Welsh and Northern Irish sportsmen and women to do well in the Olympics. What I don’t appreciate, however, is endless trailers and publicity puffs in advance of events, in some cases making wildly optimistic predictions about the prospects for our representatives.
By its very nature, competitive sport produces winners and losers, and learning from failure and coping with disappointment is part of the process. It is not made easier for those taking part to have to respond to TV presenters encouraging athletes to give exaggerated, upbeat forecasts of what they hope to achieve, or requiring them to respond immediately after failing to deliver the desired result. There is a difference between justifiable self-assurance based on one’s past record and speculative overstatement. A good result is much sweeter for both competitor and viewers if preceded by modest understatement.
Moreover, the irritation factor created by many sports presenters (some of whom appear to have consumed too much caffeine or too many ‘high energy’ drinks) is high, as they pressurise contestants, including young and inexperienced entrants, to make statements which they may later regret. Former athletes recruited as part of the commentary team are sometimes as guilty as the professional broadcasters. There is just too much pre- and post- race analysis, by over-staffed teams of ‘experts’ who have an unhealthy, almost parasitic, relationship with the people who are doing the hard work on the race track, in the swimming pool, or at other sporting venues. Then we have the repeats, the slow motion replays and close-up expressions of triumph or despair. It all becomes rather pathological.
But, of course, modesty is no longer valued in our culture. Many television series encourage boasting in a thoroughly distasteful way. Examples include business programmes such as ‘The Apprentice’ and ‘Dragon’s Den’ and talent shows such as ‘X Factor’ and ‘Britain’s Got Talent’. The format involves progressive elimination of aspirants who are judged inadequate so that those who have been lured into making rash predictions are subsequently subject to humiliation. I once saw a young woman being eliminated from a cookery programme, not because the dishes she produced were poor but because she responded with modest reticence to a fatuous question about how much she really wanted to reach the final.
The panels who make these judgements clearly relish the power they exercise. It says a great deal about our values that many viewers find this formula attractive. Witnessing boasting and humiliation clearly fulfils a healthy psychological need.
The boasting disease can be seen in all sorts of contexts. The websites of major corporations not only trumpet their achievements in their fields of expertise but increasingly make extravagant claims about their credentials as global citizens or guardians of the environment. Some even claim that their relentless pursuit of profit is entirely consistent with high ethical standards. Similar trends can be seen in the public sector as the websites of central and local government, universities and the health service testify. All of these organisations now employ public relations staff whose job it is to conceal bad news, issue inflated press releases and assist in what is euphemistically called ‘reputation management’.
In Scottish education, the current reform programme is called Curriculum for Excellence. I once shared a platform with a leading policy adviser from Finland, a European country which invariably comes high on comparative league tables of educational achievement. In response to a question, he said that in his country they would never describe their educational system in terms of ‘excellence’. They were pleased to do well and constantly sought to do better but they would not think it appropriate to claim more than that.
One of the ‘capacities’ which Curriculum for Excellence is expected to produce is ‘confident individuals’ – the others being successful learners, effective contributors and responsible citizens. A retired secondary head teacher, Carol Ford, has written: ‘"Confident individuals", for example, strikes no chord with many teachers for whom a significant part of the day may have involved dealing with the over-confident arrogance of pupils, in relation to both learning and behaviour’. Not all of the blame should attach to the pupils themselves as they are merely aping adult role models who convey the message that assertiveness, unaccompanied by real talent, may be sufficient to ensure celebrity. There is an important sense in which adults get the next generation they deserve.
Public discourse is debased by the routine use of hyperbole to refer to achievements that are merely average or good. When a commentator describes nearly every athlete as ‘giving 110%’ all he is doing is undervaluing the genuinely outstanding efforts of a few. Wouldn’t it be refreshing if, in response to an attempt to elicit an overblown, bombastic statement of intent, a competitor simply said: ‘I don’t make predictions but I shall try to do my best’?
Walter Humes held professorships at the universities of Aberdeen, Strathclyde and West of Scotland and is now a visiting professor
of education at the University of Stirling
