Editorial: Careful with that axe, Mr Mallard

Throughout the country, rural communities have been steadily gutted. Buildings that once housed hospitals, post offices and banks stand empty. Now, worst of all, the local school, the very focus of many expressions of community pride, is threatened. About 180 schools are being reviewed by the Ministry of Education; more than 90 have so far been identified for closure. Last night, it was the turn of Northland to learn where the axe would fall.

According to the ministry, schools can be candidates for closure or amalgamation for a variety of reasons. Their rolls might be declining, the population of the district might be dropping, they might be too close to other schools, their resources might not be being fully used, or the quality of education might be low. In a few cases, indeed, a combination of these factors may suggest a solid case for closure. In other instances, the shortcoming, especially if related to the quality of the teaching, might be remedied. In all cases, however, there should be no illusions about the impact of closure, especially in an area such as Northland where many communities need all the help they can get.

Quite simply, the local school is an essential hub for many rural communities. Its role is as much social as educational. It is where the community gathers, whether to discuss district affairs, to celebrate special occasions or to encourage children's sporting and cultural efforts. In sum, it brings families together like no other community asset. Remove it and the sense of community is apt to disintegrate. And that is reason enough for the intentions of the Minister of Education, Trevor Mallard, to be feared - and for him to have been verbally harassed during at least one community consultation.

Given that the local school makes such sense and promotes such sensibility, there must be extremely good grounds for closure - superior, indeed, to some of those being paraded by Mr Mallard. He speaks of primary school rolls dropping by 60,000 over the next 15 years. He also talks of millions of dollars being saved, to be redistributed among surviving schools. In the long term, says Mr Mallard, closures will fund reduced class sizes as money being spent on buildings, grounds and maintenance is transferred to teachers and teacher aides.

Neither explanation is entirely convincing. History has proved time and again that not too much faith should be placed in population projections. And long-term improvements, which may or may not eventuate, offer no solace when the immediate prognosis is for children to travel long distances by bus to a larger school, where they will be placed in a class that is probably far bigger and far less conducive to learning than that they now enjoy.

Undoubtedly, there is a case for rationalising aspects of rural schooling. The duplication of administration is an obvious candidate for treatment. There would be significant cost savings if, say, schools in a district were administered as one. Multi-school administration would not only achieve the economies associated with scale but allow teachers to devote themselves more fully to providing education of a high quality.

Sometimes that will not be sufficient. Occasionally, school closures are the inevitable product of social and economic change. But the axe should fall only when a community has effectively disintegrated of its own accord. It should not be wielded in a manner that makes it a catalyst of that disintegration. Schools should be shut or amalgamated selectively, not as part of a broad-based approach that cuts a swathe through rural New Zealand. In the vast majority of cases, discreet rationalisation is possible - and far more appropriate than the draconian bent of a shortsighted Minister of Education.