My recent interview (in English) on El Punt Avui TV. Talking about how I started out in the language teaching business, some of what’s happened over the past 40 years and what may happen in the future.
At IATEFL 2016 Silvana Richardson gave an impassioned presentation which generated a great deal of discussion and support, both at the conference and on social media. She repeated her plenary at the ELT conference organised by IH Barcelona earlier this year and once again she had the audience on its feet.
Her argument, in summary, is that it is time to stop treating English teachers who are non-native speakers of the language as second class citizens. English language teaching institutions shouldn’t discriminate between native and non-native speakers of English when they hire teachers; rather they should simply hire people on their ability to teach the language effectively.
Silvana uses a number of arguments to support her case. One of these is that bilingual or multilingual non-native speakers of English are often more effective classroom teachers than monolingual native English speakers as, having gone through the process of learning English themselves, they are often better able to anticipate the many pitfalls that students are likely to find themselves stuck in. No-one in the profession would take issue with that.
Silvana also claims that a familiar argument, that it is the market that demands native English speakers, is false. She attempts to explode this myth (as she sees it) by providing data from a number of studies conducted in different parts of the world. Two of these studies were taken from SE Asia where, according to the data referenced, a majority of students actively prefer non-native speakers (understood to be speakers of the students’ own language) as teachers. Anyone familiar with this part of the world won’t be entirely surprised by this finding. Grammar translation is still a common teaching method in many classrooms in the region and that requires a thorough knowledge of the students’ mother tongue – something most native English speakers lack. The fear of losing face is also a cultural constant in this part of the world and this fear is often compounded in the presence of foreigners.
But does the argument hold elsewhere? The only data Silvana uses from Spain to reinforce her thesis (that the market doesn’t care) is taken from a study conducted at a university in the Basque region where around 50% of the 70 students surveyed stated they didn’t especially value native English speakers. But university students don’t get to choose their teachers in any case. Could this lack of choice have influenced the result?
The ‘alternative fact’ (to coin a current phrase) is that a large proportion of students studying at private language schools in Spain (i.e. those people who do have a choice where to study) indicate a very clear preference for having native English speakers as teachers. A recent survey conducted with past and present students at IH Barcelona bears this out.
The survey asked students to evaluate 10 qualities an English language teacher might have on a scale of 0 to 10. Some of the qualities students were asked to evaluate were:
- A friendly and caring nature
- Knowledge of the students’ language
The survey was completed online by 408 students.
The teacher quality that scored the highest percentage of responses (57,7%) with the maximum score of 10 was ‘Gives interesting classes’. ‘Native speaker’ was the quality that scored the third highest number of maximums, with 52,25% of respondents awarding this quality a top score of 10. But if we add the number of respondents scoring ‘Native speaker’ with an 8, 9, or 10 on the scale, it comes to a massive 83,4% (see graph). This out-performs nearly all the other qualities listed in the survey including even ‘Experience’ (76,1%).
So, whether we like it or not, ‘native speaker’ is evidently a quality that students in this particular market value highly. I think we can safely say that it is therefore very likely to be one of the factors that influences these students when they are evaluating their options and deciding where to study.
Having provided data that suggests the market doesn’t really care, Silvana seems prepared to admit that some people might care after all, as she then goes on to an ask a very pertinent question: Is the customer always right? In other words, should we as school owners and directors, go along with our students’ preferences for native speakers or “challenge them, rather than pander to them”?
Let’s state the obvious: in a highly competitive market, the providers of any service would be crazy to ignore the strongly felt preferences of their potential clients. Such an approach would be tantamount to commercial suicide.
This is precisely the situation that the owners and directors of private language schools in Spain find themselves in. Whether we agree with our clients’ perceptions or not, a large majority of those people prepared to pay to improve their English language skills (or their children’s language skills) evidently value teachers who are native English speakers very highly. Does this mean that we can’t or won’t employ non-native speakers as teachers? No, we can, we do and we will. But it does mean that there is a clear and obvious risk in doing so; a risk that is ignored by Silvana’s claims that
a) the market is essentially agnostic and
b) those students that do prefer native speakers should have their views challenged.
‘Discrimination’ is an ugly term that no-one wants to be associated with. A majority of the private language schools in Spain (including all the schools that I’m involved with personally) pride themselves on being companies that will not discriminate on gender, race, sexual preferences, age, weight, height, or anything else. But we are working in the world as is, not as we’d like it, and it will take time to wean our students away from the idea that ‘native speaker’ somehow equals ‘better value teacher’. The risks inherent in challenging this widely held view too quickly or too openly – especially in the current market conditions – are simply too great.
One final thought: this debate, which is a very lively one, seems to centre almost exclusively on native or non-native teachers of English. Presumably this reflects the global demand for English and the huge numbers of English teachers, both native and non-native speakers, needed to address it. The debate feels rather different if we think about teachers of other languages. Imagine a student coming to Spain to take an intensive Spanish course, for example. Would such a student be surprised and possibly even disappointed if her teacher turned out not to be a native speaker of Spanish? I think perhaps she would.
A video recording of Silvana’s plenary at IATEFL can be found here: http://bit.ly/1XxfxDH
The EFL industry in Spain enjoyed a mini boom during the early years of the global economic crisis as many adult students rushed to improve their English language skills, either to get themselves back into the job market, or else in an attempt to hang on the job they had. As we reached the new decade, the boom slowed down and then started to tail-off. But no-one expected the sudden and significant drop in adult student numbers that hit the industry at the start of the current academic year.
The drop wasn’t school, city, or even region specific; it was the same story all over Spain. And the numbers were eye-watering. Depending who you talk to (and/or who you believe) adult student numbers fell by between 10-20%. Enough to make any school owner or manager wince.
What happened? Where did all these students go? Well, as is normally the case, there is no one, simple answer. There has been a slight upturn in in-company teaching, so it may be that some students, who were previously paying for their own courses in our schools, are now studying in their company (if they’re fortunate to have a job in the first place; Spanish unemployment is still well over 20%.)
The standard of English teaching in main-stream education is also getting better, slowly, so it may be that there are more school leavers who have achieved a basic level of communicative competence.
Some adult students – especially the younger ones – may also have decided to switch from a traditional, bricks and mortar language school to a Web-based classroom.
My own theory is that it’s the free movement of labour in the European Union which is having the greatest effect on our market. In other words, as there so few jobs available in Spain, hundreds of thousands of young adults – many of whom may previously have been our students – have simply upped sticks and gone abroad to find work.
A recent survey conducted in the UK indicates that migrants from Spain rose to 137,000 in 2015 (up from 63,000 in 2011). Most of them are probably working in relatively unskilled jobs in hotels, bars and restaurants, but at least they’re working – and they’re improving their English language skills as they go.
A similar number probably emigrated to other countries in the north of Europe and another significant number emigrated to Latin America. Add up all these emigrants and we could be looking at a total of well over 300,000 migrants – just in 2015.
On a recent trip to Oxford I met a young Spanish guy, working in a hotel, who had previously been a student at our school in Barcelona. He’s a typical example. Will he ever move back to Spain, I asked him? Perhaps, in the future, he said, but only if the situation in Spain changes and he can find a decent job. His new fluency in English, learnt by living and working in Oxford, might just help him with that.
So where does that leave Spanish language schools? Will adult students come back to our schools in the same numbers as before? Probably not. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up on this market. If adult students won’t come to us, we can use the Internet to take our services to them. Even those living and working abroad.
The 2015 edition of IH Barcelona’s ELT Conference featured a world-class line up of speakers. Coincidentally, three of the plenary speakers, Michael Swan, Scott Thornbury and Martin Parrott, all talked about a similar issue: how the English language is changing and what impact these changes might have on the language that we teach in our classrooms. The consensus of opinion of all three speakers was that while English has always been subject to change, the pace of change is increasing fast and the TEFL industry is lagging behind.
One example: we have all been told that we should use ‘less’ when we speak of uncountable nouns and ‘fewer’ for countable objects. But according to Martin Parrot, this distinction was unheard of until the 18th century. Previously ‘less’ was used for all nouns. A few centuries later and ‘less’ is evidently reclaiming its right to be used on every occasion, although students who write ‘less cars’ in an end of course exam are still likely to be marked down.
Would a student be marked down for saying “I so don’t agree with you” or “I was sat there for hours” in an oral exam? Probably not. What about a written exam? Probably yes.
Martin Parrott, who’s talk was entitled ‘The Tyranny of TEFL speak’ made the point that most English language course book writers seems oblivious to most of these changes and consistently produce a version of English that essentially reflects the way university educated, middle class people living in the Home Counties spoke in the 1970s and 80s.
So how should this natural evolution of language impact our classroom teaching? Should we accept any utterances that are commonly used, however much they might grate on our ingrained sense of correctness? Should we teach students how people actually speak in this day and age, but warn them that certain commonly used words and expressions shouldn’t be used in exams? That might be one solution, but it doesn’t feel quite right.
As Scott made abundantly clear, all languages change over time and globalisation has hastened the changes. That said, not all languages are quite as amorphous as English seems to be. In some cases this is because the natural process of change is corralled by institutions which seek to keep some semblance of control. Spanish is overseen by a collection of highly prestigious academics and authors who collectively make up the Real Academia Española. These eminent minds meet periodically to discuss which changes to Spanish are acceptable and which are not. Whatever they say goes. Students taking the Instituto Cervantes’ Spanish language exams don’t therefore have to navigate the fast expanding grey areas that students of English are increasingly faced with. If the Real Academia says something is admissible, that’s fine. Otherwise it just ain’t.
Cultural historians may like to consider why Spain has an official body of language overseers whose role is to determine what is and isn’t allowed in Spanish, whereas the free market seems to hold much greater sway in England, at least outside the “tyranny” of most EFL course books and exams. But that’s a debate which goes way beyond the scope of this blogpost, innit?
In Spain (my adopted home) the regional governments operate a network of Official Language Schools (EOIs) which offer heavily subsidised language courses to the local adult population. (In Catalonia, where I live, the minimum age required to attend such a course is 16, although students aged 14 or older can also sign up to study a language they’re not taking at school.)
Course fees are significantly lower than they would be in the private sector. For example a145-hour course at an EOI in Barcelona currently costs around 300 €. A comparable course in the private sector would cost well over 1,000 €.
Class sizes in EOIs are generally quite large – often over 20 students per group – at least for the most popular languages such as English, French or German. This compares to a standard maximum group size of around 10-12 in the private sector.
Despite the larger group size, EOI courses are heavily subsidised by the tax payer. As an EOI website professes (in slightly clunky English): the courses have a much higher actual cost than what students pay …
If you want to study a less popular language (Portuguese, Korean, …) you’re pretty much guaranteed a place on a course; the problem you may face is that there are not enough people who want to study your chosen language at your level.
However, if you are a new student and want to study one of the ‘demand high’ languages, you put your name down and then there’s a random drawer to select applicants to fill the places available. If your name is picked out, you get a place on a course; if you’re not picked, you’re not admitted, although you may be able to put your name on a waiting list, in case there are any dropouts.
You might expect me, as CEO of a group of private (unsubsidised) language schools, to object vigorously to this use of tax payers’ money. Not quite.
I’m all in favour of the public sector offering courses in languages that the private sector can’t readily provide (Portuguese, Korean, …). I’m also in favour of the public sector offering subsidised courses in ‘demand high’ languages such as English, French and German to those people who simply couldn’t afford to study at a private school e.g. the long-term unemployed, or people belonging to a family with an income of less than X thousand Euros a year.
But is seems a little odd that everyone is eligible to take one of these subsidised courses.
The system is fair in that it admits all comers. It’s unfair in that it often selects those people who could afford to pay for a course at a private language school and consequently leaves out those people who can’t.
What do you think? Should the state provide subsidised language courses to anyone who wants one, irrespective of their economic circumstances? Is there a similar network of public sector language schools in your country? If so, how do these operate?
All comments welcome.
One of the best known mantras of business management theory is that in order to succeed, a company must have a competitive advantage over its rivals. In other words, it must have or do something that will persuade its potential clients to buy its good or services, rather than those of its competitors.
Michael Porter (aka Professor Strategy) argued that there are essentially two types of competitive advantage available: lower-cost or differentiation. He also argued that strategic management should be chiefly concerned with building and sustaining a company’s competitive advantage.
When I first came across this sort of thinking, back in the late 1980’s it seemed pretty obvious that we had this issue sewn up. Our companies – our International House language schools, teaching English in Spain – had a very clear competitive advantage which helped us differentiate ourselves from the vast majority of our competitors: we only employed native English speakers who had been specifically trained to teach English as a foreign language. Most of our competitors employed a mixture of non-native speakers and backpackers. They didn’t have a chance. The non-native speakers may have been perfectly competent teachers, but the market wanted native English speakers. As for the backpackers, they were often native English speakers, but put them in a classroom and they didn’t know what they were doing. Our competitors were often cheaper than us, but we had that essential ingredient –professional, native English teachers – and students literally queued out the door to pay for our services.
It was great while it lasted, but it didn’t last long. Thousands of professionally trained, native English teachers soon found their way out to Spain, or were trained in Spain (most often by International House) and before very long, almost all the self-respecting language schools in our part of the world were offering the same essential ingredient. We could still try to claim that we were different and better e.g. by only employing the very best candidates from our teacher training courses, and by making teacher training a continuous process – but the differentiation gap had narrowed significantly. We were no longer miles ahead, or miles more attractive.
I spent the next decade or so secretly worrying that we were living on our past success and that we no longer had a clear tick in the box marked: sustainable competitive advantage.
Then I came up with an idea that made me feel a whole lot better: while it may be true that we no longer had a single, clear, competitive advantage, we did have a number of smaller advantages that when added together, amounted to something significant. For example: we not only had trained, native teachers and continuous, in-service training; we also had a sound academic structure, led by a well-qualified Director of Studies; we used the best study materials available on the market; we had eye catching promotional materials; we had good, comfortable premises, in good locations, with easy access; we trained our front of house staff to deal with customers correctly; and so on. I even coined a name for this amalgam of small, competitive advantages: I called it our ‘composite advantage’.
If I’d been teaching at a top Business School rather than running a small group of companies, this term – composite advantage – may have become part of the established jargon. Or so I tell myself. In any case, it was enough to help me sleep at night and not worry too much about Professor Strategy.
Earlier this year I was introduced to another idea that also makes perfect sense (thanks Monica). The thinking here is that in this day and age, it’s almost impossible for most companies to develop a sustainable competitive advantage. The business world simply moves too fast. As soon as one company comes up with a significant advantage, many of its competitors simply go out and copy it and bang goes the advantage. (This is of course exactly what happened with our trained, native teacher advantage, albeit at a slower pace). So, rather than trying to create a competitive advantage that can be sustained over time, companies are now being advised to come up with something described as a transient advantage, something that will keep them ahead for a while, but will need to be replaced by another transient advantage before too long, as soon as the competition catches up.
A couple of examples of transient advantages from our own experience:
When we first started to offer intensive pre-service training courses for Spanish language teachers that included both theoretical and practical sessions (based on the model of our training courses for English teachers) we had a tremendous competitive advantage: we were the only organisation in Spain offering such courses. Nowadays there are dozens of similar courses available and we have had to find new ways to maintain our advantage e.g. by developing a blended version of the course and by obtaining university credits for trainees who successfully complete our courses. We don’t know how long these new transient advantages will last, but we do know they won’t last forever.
Similarly, around four years ago, a number of our schools decided to equip all their classrooms with data projectors and interactive whiteboards. This new hardware transformed our classrooms from something that would have been familiar to students from the Edwardian age, to something that was at the cutting edge of classroom technology. Most of our students were suitably impressed. However, nowadays almost every private language school has classrooms bristling with technology, so the competitive advantage we briefly enjoyed has evaporated. It lasted about two years.
According to Rita Gunther McGrath, a professor at Columbia Business schools and author of a book called The End of Competitive Advantage (Havard Business Review Press, June 2013) these days companies need to develop and manage a ‘pipeline of initiatives’ since many will be short-lived.
To stay ahead in our business I think we need a wide pipeline, producing a broad range of initiatives. So perhaps we should be talking about transient, composite advantages.