Steve McCormack: Children are neglected as bureaucracy mounts

On the day last week that newspapers and airwaves were at their most clogged with coverage of the Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand affair, a report slipped out from the Audit Commission that should, arguably, have caused far more concern than a few obscene phone messages sent to a former Spanish waiter.

The Commission scrutinises the spending of local councils and health, and its latest report centres on changes put in place to try to prevent a repetition of the death of Victoria Climbié, the eight-year-old murdered by her aunt and her partner in a London flat eight years ago. Having evaluated the results of five years' re-organisation, it concludes that: "...there is little evidence of better outcomes for children and young people".

What a surprise, you might think, seduced perhaps by the ubiquity of that slogan, "every child matters", into assuming more time and money are now targeted at vulnerable children in danger of abuse, or going off the rails.

You'd actually be half-right. Local councils and central government have, for laudable motives, spent bucket-loads of cash constructing a new system of collaboration. At its heart is the amalgamation of local education and social services departments into new "children's services" directorates, and, in parallel, the creation of "children's trusts", which bring together senior council officials with representatives from the police, health authorities and the voluntary sector.

But you'd also be half-wrong. The depressing picture unearthed by the Commission is that, although huge sums of money have been spent, precious little of it has actually got through to where it's really needed. There are still just as many children in shattered and dangerous homes crying themselves to sleep at night; just as many lost and confused teenagers craving but not receiving more time with a caring adult who might help them piece their life together again; and as many teachers crying out in vain for another pair of hands to deal with emotionally disturbed, or neglected, pupils.

What researchers found, rather than widespread evidence of repaired and rehabilitated young lives, was too much time and money being wasted on what they termed structures and processes, which were getting in the way of improvements instead of assisting them.

But I'm sad to say that I'm not in the least bit surprised by these findings. The evidence of my own eyes in schools, and conversations with primary and secondary teachers, who see difficult and disturbed children every day of their lives, is that the money is not getting through to where it matters.

The truth is, the single most effective way of helping a child in trouble is for an adult to spend more time with them, face to face, over an extended period. Only that way can a strong, trusting relationship develop, so that the child gains confidence that somebody cares about them. Only that way, can the adult recognise and understand the shifting sands of emotion in the young life, and stand any chance of helping the child grow stronger and more confident. This sort of direct and regular human contact is immeasurably more valuable than anything else.

But time and again, I see teachers with concerns about individual children and what's going on in their lives outside school, tearing their hair out just trying to get an extra pair of hands to help them in class, who might perhaps get to know the family back home as well.

I also have ringing in my ears discussions I had two years ago with some of the most senior officials charged with responsibility for children at local level.

I was conducting magazine interviews with six newly appointed directors of Children's Services, each a former education or social services chief. I asked them if the bureaucratic changes they were spearheading would result in more adults being able to spend more quality time with children in trouble.

Staggeringly, not one answered unreservedly in the affirmative. All highlighted the initial priority of (I paraphrase) getting the systems right, and educating council staff to adopt new ways of working. Absent was any confidence that, reasonably quickly, more runny noses would be wiped, more reassuring hands would be placed around traumatised teenage shoulders. Nope! The task was principally a bureaucratic one.

So, you'll pardon my groans when I hear politicians spout empty banalities from the Every Child Matters lexicon, perhaps with a reference to the government's weighty and wordy Children's Plan. We're still prioritising paperwork over people and nothing will get better until that changes.

The writer is a part-time teacher who works in London