The rise of the ‘super-tutor’

‘Will Isis really use migrants as a weapon of mass destruction?’ asked one Common Entrance pupil in a tutoring session. Where such a profound question emerged from is anyone’s guess. Perhaps it was a cunning ruse to avoid analysing an especially tedious Wordsworth poem. But for a 13-year-old to feel comfortable enough to initiate a discussion about so politically sensitive a topic is becoming a rarity.

We desperately encourage our children to ask such questions and then, when they do, tend to answer them with vague platitudes. It would be easy to blame ‘time-starved’ parents, or vilify the ‘pushy parent’ brigade stereotyped so brilliantly in Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, so often condemned for maintaining that relentless testing is the only way their children can sprint up the educational ladder.

It is becoming clear that such politically or ethically sensitive questions are being ignored so as not to cause offence. Children are being held back from questioning, thinking and exploring out of fear that curiosity be confused with politically incorrect bigotry. As Education Secretary, Michael Gove introduced the concept of lessons in British values in the wake of the Trojan Horse scandal in Birmingham. His successor, Nicky Morgan, seems keen to continue with this, stating earlier this year: ‘Every school regardless, faith or none, should be promoting British values, because it’s the right thing to do.’

However, perhaps the answer lies not in teaching children British values but in equipping them with the tools to articulate difficult positions in a complex world. In classrooms of 30 children, this is pure fantasy. But in a more intimate one-on-one setting, it becomes a desirable possibility. Enter the private tutor.

Recent headlines have charted the rise of the ‘super-tutor’, professionals who in some corners of the globe regularly command upwards of £1,000 per hour.