IF you believe the headlines in the educational press, the state of science
education in Britain has swung markedly from the parlous to something that might
be interpreted as approaching the positive.

The roots of all this lie buried in a February press release from the
Universities and Colleges Admissions Service (UCAS). It provides in great detail
the number of applications for university courses in 1997, together with
comparable figures for 1996. Among much else, the figures revealed applications
for physics to be up by 8 .7 per cent (16 185 to 17 595), while biochemistry
shows a 9.3 per cent increase (10 978 to 12 004), biology a 1.8 per cent
increase (30 468 to 31 017), and chemistry a 0.1 per cent increase (20 381 to 20
397).

The Times Higher Education Supplement was the first to pick up on
the figures, running a front-page article on 21 February highlighting the
increase in applications for single honours science courses, as well as the
swelling ranks of computer science undergraduates (up 13.5 per cent from 47 325
to 53 748). The article went on to paint a picture in which, “at some
universities”, academics in the humanities appear likely to be pitched onto the
streets, while their colleagues in the sciences prepare to teach classes which
bulge out of the laboratories and onto the stairways.

According to the THES article, Alan Smithers, director of the School
for Education at Brunel University, comments that the rise in physics
applications probably follows the demographic trend, just as physics
applications fell between 1983 and 1996 as the numbers of 17 to 18-year-olds in
the population fell. A week later he was making the same point in The Times
Educational Supplement, but this time in a fashion fractionally more
downbeat, with warnings about the relationship between double-award GCSE science
courses and A-level physics and chemistry.

By now the story was spreading. Looking forward to the nationwide science,
engineering and technology jamboree, SET 97, The Daily Telegraph put a
contrary spin on the science applications, setting the rise in the context of
the recent years of decline, although still managing to come to cautiously
optimistic conclusions. Meanwhile, back in the TES, the decline in
numbers taking A-level physics was back in the limelight, complete with a
critique of double-award GCSE science.

At a time when there is widespread concern over Britain’s science research
base, it is encouraging that there should be such a high level of interest in
how many young people are choosing to continue their studies in the sciences.
Somewhat less encouraging, though, is that the basis for comment is all too
often some rather tenuous data, from which all sorts of conclusions can be and
are drawn, and which are used partially.

As an example of this, why did no one comment on the 20.5 per cent increase
in applications for combined honours courses in science with social science or
arts which the UCAS figures show (53 525 to 64 521)? The total number of these
students is now very nearly equal to the numbers of students of physics,
chemistry and biology put together.

In an article on the future supply of young scientists, the focus on single
honours courses is probably not unreasonable, given that it is from this group
that the future top-flight scientists are likely to come. But there can be no
excuse for the liberties which are so often taken with data such as those from
UCAS, subject to analysis and inference in ways that surely no student would be
allowed to get away with. In this case, the data relate to only two years, and
include no information about the potential number of applicants (greater this
year than last, as Smithers noted in his remarks).

Of course, much of the commentary on topics such as this is leavened by the
inside knowledge possessed by those writing the articles or quoted in them, who
may have access to the findings of more detailed research. However, this does
not reduce the need to take great care when tempted to speculate on the latest
batch of figures, since not everyone will distinguish between informed comment
and ill-founded extrapolation.

To a greater or lesser extent, articles like those referred to here are the
written equivalent of gossip in the marketplace, and are probably recognised as
such most of the time. Nevertheless, it does matter that any public debate about
science education is conducted in terms which have some rigour and which are
based on some sort of reasonable data. This is especially so when those writing
or quoted have a stake somewhere in the enterprise, whether as science teacher
or science researcher, and who are therefore regarded as speaking with some
authority.

At a time when politicians of all hues are likely to seize on any matter
educational and make it into their next “big idea”, we owe it to all concerned
to be careful about what we say and write—is it too much to hope that
debate about science education might be just a little bit “scientific”?

The US and Britain do not appear to have much in common when it comes
to science. After all, isn’t the US the first place British scientists
look to when they think of earning a decent salary in properly equipped
laboratories? But a closer look reveals a common concern about standards
of science education in schools – and it is this that Science Education
Partnerships addresses.

The book gathers the thoughts, feelings and experiences of the wide
range of individuals who have been involved with the Science and Health
Education Partnership at the University of California at San Francisco.
This radical programme, which began in 1987, seeks to bring about fundamental
changes in the way in which science is taught in American schools, not by
‘top down’ reform – restructuring the curriculum and then expecting teachers
to adopt the new improved version wholesale – but by establishing partnerships
between science teachers and professional scientists working in universities
and industry.

The activities that the partnership programme has stimulated are exciting
and wide-ranging. From acting as a scheme to give classroom science teachers
access to professional scientists to help them with project work, the programme
has grown rapidly. This collection of readable articles includes a neurologist
describing his work with 11 and 12-year-old students in the schools of San
Francisco, an account of a programme to take school science teachers on
research expeditions to a South American rainforest, and the story of a
resource centre set up in the University of California’s research laboratories
to give science teachers the opportunity to tap into state-of-the-art science
and technology.

The enthusiasm of the individuals involved in the programme comes through
in every part of this book. In the first article, Art Sussman, one of the
early directors of the scheme, develops a striking model of curriculum change
as seen by the project. In this model, science education partnerships are
visualised as being promoted by a new breed of people called by Sussman
‘t-RNA people’. These people are ‘hybrid professionals’, people having experience,
respect, knowledge and skills in both scientific and educational communities.
It is the job of the t-RNA people, says Sussman, to act as translators,
speaking the language of scientist and teacher and thereby drawing the two
worlds together.

To what extent is the material in this book of direct relevance to the
science education community in Britain? At one level, it is an interesting
fund of ideas for enriching science teaching, ‘resource generation’ (that’s
raising money to you and me), evaluating curriculum change and schools in
the US. Some of this is directly applicable to Britain, but much of it provides
little more than background to stimulate thought about what might be done.
But one lesson from the US is a winner.

The UCSF partnership programme is based on the need to boost the low
status of teachers and improve the poor links between universities and
schools. With the British government’s plans continuing to weaken the links
between the teaching profession and higher education, senior staff and politicians
at the Department for Education could do worse than dip into this book.
Just wait for ‘t-RNA people’ to turn up in a government speech on education
– but don’t hold your breath.

Patrick Fullick is an educational consultant, based in Hampshire.

As always, it is easier to ask questions about the statistics concerning
pass rates and entries than to use them to provide meaningful answers. There
has been an overall growth in the number of students taking A levels; this
year’s entries were 1.7 per cent up on the previous year. But this growth
has not been evenly spread.

Mathematics and the sciences have seen a drop of nearly 5.5 per cent
in their share of candidates in the past year alone. If this pattern were
to be maintained for the next five years, it would represent a fall of over
30 per cent in the proportion of young people studying these subjects after
the age of 16.

In contrast, other subjects have seen rapid growth. Perhaps the most
notable are the social sciences and business studies, the latter increasing
its share of students by a massive 19 per cent in one year – albeit from
a relatively modest base.

The spread of grades among subjects was also uneven. About 30 per cent
of schools students taking mathematics and the physical sciences achieved
grade B or better. This figure fell to the mid-twenties in biology and the
humanities; in social science and business studies, it dropped to below
20 per cent.

In stark contrast, only 66 per cent of students taking physics passed
the examination. This figure compares with the fact that more than 85 per
cent of those sitting French or German achieved a pass.

These figures raise the question of why it is that the diminishing number
of mathematics and science students tend to do either very well, or to fail
completely. Also, why are the subjects which are increasing in popularity
those in which relatively few candidates achieve high grades? And what are
the implications for would-be reformers – or indeed non-reformers – of the
A-level system?

Those students who have aptitude and interest in mathematics and the
sciences seem to be continuing to pursue courses in them, and to do well.
Students who find these subjects harder seem less likely to take up a place
on a course; and, even if they do so, studies show that they find the subjects
particularly difficult – and in many cases dull – resulting in a lack of
success at the end of the course.

This perception of ‘hardness’ is more marked in potential science students
than in those considering other subjects. As a result, students who stay
on to study at A level are now opting for subjects which are seen either
as less difficult than science, or as directly linked to employment prospects
immediately following education.

The system as it stands thus produces able science students, with a
firm grasp of their subject, at the expense of the many others taking the
examination who fail to reach a satisfactory standard. And this is not to
mention those who fall by the wayside during the course itself. In addition,
students in those groups taking A level for the first time are channelled
into a restricted range of subjects, and are on the whole lost to mathematics
and the sciences.

Overall, one student in four entering the examinations at the end of
their two year A-level courses comes away with nothing to show for it. This
year alone that represents 80 000 young people. In the physical sciences
the situation is even worse – nearly one student in three leaves school
laboratories empty-handed.

There are, of course, some who claim that these facts do not really
matter. They argue that the figures suggest we are continuing to produce
high-quality science students who will go on to university, and provide
the basis for the country’s future strength in research and development.

This argument can be countered on two grounds. First, the reliability
of using A-level grades to predict university performance is known to be
poor. This in itself is a comment on A levels as they now stand, both as
a preparation for study in higher education, and as a method of assessment.

As long as a grading system exists in which candidates are compared
one with another – rather than against a set of agreed performance criteria
– there will always be those condemned to fail in order that normal distribution
of grades can be made to fit. Secondly, we may allow ourselves the luxury
of ensuring that we continue to win our quota of Nobel prizes. But we must
also accept that bread and butter technical scientists are needed to develop
ideas and sustain our industries. All nations have a growing need for scientifically
literate non-scientists working as lawyers, economists, politicians and
business people.

If Britain is to compete successfully in a world of increasing technical
complexity and growing economic competition. We must educate a much greater
proportion of our young people in mathematics and the sciences than we do
now.

One alternative approach was outlined in the Higginson report of 1988.
This claimed that there was a ‘remarkable consensus’ in favour of a new
approach to A levels (the approach in Scotland is already much broader).
In particular, it highlighted the need for a system of education where each
stage is designed to meet the needs of the majority of those who take it,
rather than as a preparation for the stage which follows.

This approach would not mean sacrificing much of the ‘rigour’ for which
many praise our A-level system. But it would mean opening up science education
to those who currently reject it after the age of 16.

This year’s A-level results make it clear that, as with our car, the
time has come now to consider trading in our old and less than reliable
model of 16-to-19 education for a shiny new one. If we wait much longer,
we will remain at a grave disadvantage in competing with other nations in
science and technology

Ann Fullick is a science education consultant. Patrick Fullick lectures
in education at the University of Southampton. Both write science textbooks.