Daisy Dunn

The fixation on sport at boarding schools is the reason the country is failing

As a teenager, I very nearly went to boarding school after falling in love with the architecture, the greenery and the sense of freedom. What ultimately put me off was the school’s obscene fixation with sport and my discovery that I would be expected to run around those fields not just once or twice a week, but every single day. 

Listening to How Boarding Schools Shaped Britain, a three-part series on Radio 4, I am not convinced that all this sport isn’t the reason our country is failing. Over two-thirds of our Prime Ministers and half of all holders of offices of state went to boarding schools – and a quarter of those to Eton. With some honourable exceptions, this is hardly a crowd that screams ‘sports team’. On anecdotal evidence, the alumni of such schools can seldom do so much as catch a ball. Which suggests that boarding schools are excellent at instilling a false sense of ability in their pupils, or else a resentment of good sportsmanship. 

It was interesting to hear Earl Spencer describe to series presenter Nicky Campbell ‘extraordinary self-belief’ as one of the qualities often acquired at boarding school in the past. 

Other qualities are obedience, particularly to hierarchy, a lack of emotion and a belief in one’s superiority (originally as a member of a family or school with roots in devout Christianity).  

Many of these characteristics were deemed desirable in future empire-builders by early boarding school heads. Of course, no one had yet heard of ‘Boarding School Syndrome’, the psychological effect that leads many to experience difficulties with intimate relationships in adult life owing to emotional detachment and dissociation. Several ex-boarders attested to their use of humour and good manners to deflect from talking about anything too meaningful.   

The series gave a sense of the institution coming full circle. It is astonishing to reflect that the first boarding schools were established by merchants as day schools for bright children from impoverished families. The clergymen appointed to teach provided such a high level of education that middle class parents were soon eager to pay for their children to join. Boarding was introduced so that teachers could oversee their pupil’s Sunday worship. The change came with the dissolution of the monasteries. While the schools closed, their infrastructure remained; the halls, chapels and quads became the centre of new fee-paying Protestant schools.    

Nicky Campbell’s bemusement at a professed move back towards ‘a more inclusive privilege – and what’s that when it’s at home – or away from home?’ struck the right note. There are admittedly many bursaries and scholarships available for today’s boarders. There are even state boarding schools, in which everything is paid for except the accommodation. But the growth of flexi-boarding is perhaps to be welcomed from a wellbeing as well as a financial perspective. The most affecting moments in this engrossing series came when Campbell, Spencer and others reflected upon their harrowing experiences of boarding school abuse and trauma. 

We can perhaps anticipate Campbell revisiting this territory when he appears on actress Rebecca Front’s new podcast, Three People, in the coming weeks. In the series trailer, Front describes the strangeness of speaking to each guest in one studio while he or she speaks from another. Why is the programme called ‘Three People’ rather than ‘Two People’? Because that guest must name three people who have most changed their life, for better or worse, and explain why. 

First up is Armando Iannucci, with whom Front worked in The Thick of It and I’m Alan Partridge among others. Other guests lined up for the series include Peter Capaldi and Al Murray. The patent cronyism provides a nostalgic atmosphere and a hint of friendly rivalry as host seeks to impress guest and vice versa. Front and Iannucci joke that they’ve ‘only had four major rows’, prompting a decade’s silence between each. 

Alan Partridge transpires to be one of the three people who’ve shaped Iannucci’s life the most. His affection for him is obvious when he describes the gulf between how Partridge is seen and how he sees himself. You can’t blame Iannucci for having a soft spot for the ‘flame of optimism’ that ignites Partridge’s ambition. Partridge fans will lap up Iannucci’s (very good) impression of him as well as his anecdotes about his sources of inspiration. Iannucci’s very choice of three people – Partridge, a librarian and an obstetrician – could well be the making of a new comedy. 

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