Sex Education

MARCH 2023

There is an emerging picture of disturbing errors of judgment in sex education lessons. Since the new statutory requirement for enhanced Relationships and Sex Education was introduced in to law in 2019, schools have been working at pace to design and implement lessons to teach young people about the dangers of pornography, the law around sexting, the importance of consent, dignity and respect. Many have doubtless done so with remarkable levels of good judgment, care and caution. Yet parents and students have been sharing examples of invasive, distressing and politicised content that in the cold light of day look more like safeguarding breaches than safeguarding interventions. 

Examples include children’s introduction to the dogma of exactly 72 gender identities, lessons that appear to promote specific examples of sexual experimentation, and sessions that assume the ubiquity of pornography is accompanied by its moral neutrality.  

There is no doubt that a greater focus on sex education is essential and timely. Figures published by the children’s commissioner show that the number of young people exposed to pornography is shockingly high. The Ofsted review into sexual abuse in schools reveals a picture of monumental unseen harm, much of which goes unreported because it is normalised and understood to be ‘the way things are’. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the pandemic exposed young people further to the very worst online material. Against such a backdrop, the need for some unflinching and direct discussion with young people about respect and dignity is unarguable. The central question is how can a conversation address the most problematic themes without itself being problematic?

A first attempt to answer that question should begin with language. The dialect of the classroom is not the dialect of the street or the internet. It is not even, if we are being honest with ourselves, the dialect of the playground. This has to mean that some terminology is off limits. This is not about being a prude, or about closing down discussion, but about committing ourselves wholeheartedly to school’s role as a bridge to adult,  public life. However much professionals try to break down boundaries to make an impact on the hard to reach, there are some boundaries that are sacrosanct. These prepare children for a future boardroom, or job interview. Whilst it is understandable for the young to transgress from time to time, those teaching should redirect and lead by example. So slang and offensive terms should not have free passage in the classroom.

Second of all, the programme needs to address a wide variety of starting points. In secondary schools, the audience for sex education is very mixed. Some may have no knowledge or understanding of sex and they may also have parents who are uncomfortable about any such discussions taking place in school. Other, more progressive parents may permit underage sexual activity, in the belief that a permissive environment can encourage openness and the safety-net of parental oversight. There may be parents who talk to their children about different sexual practices, other parents who would prefer that discussion took place in school and others still who believe that any discussion along those lines corrupts the innocence of the young. Assuming nothing about what children know and are exposed to is important. 

Third, when it comes to starting points in this subject, being further along down the road does not mean needing less tuition. It is far more important to promote caution for the adventurous, than to provide a detailed route map for the untraveled. So, to state what the subject is not: it is not a ‘how to’ guide for the uninitiated. To use a skiing metaphor, sex education is not the equivalent of high-speed elite training, preparing you for all the jumps, acrobatics and slaloms the course has to offer. It is more a map of danger zones, a bundle of protective equipment and an intensive crash course in how to stop safely. To put it simply, and paraphrasing Jeremy Bentham, the aim of sex education is to minimise pain, not to maximise pleasure. 

Fourth, and finally, given the sensitivities and the very different political outlooks, the how is as important as the what in this subject. Besides the content, the approach to the content needs to give parents and students confidence that the programme will not overreach itself. Engaging parents in curriculum design is not only a statutory requirement, but a vital method to secure widespread faith in the curriculum. Delivering the course with the consent and consensus of parents is essential to maximise uptake (parents are still legally entitled to withdraw their child from secondary sex education), optimise engagement and thereby improve outcomes. 

The pressure for more government guidance in avoiding the dangers of RSE may well be necessary. I confess to having felt dismay that the call for more guidance implies that teachers and leaders cannot be trusted to make these decisions on their own. And yet, a more sober reflection suggests that commonality, not divergence, is the best way to implement a programme of sex education. Schools must avoid accusations of over-reach, whilst still delivering the bold and probing material necessary to prevent harm, promote respect and prepare our children for an increasingly complex adult world.