Shropshire Star

Sir Chris Woodhead: Divisive figure with a big heart

Tributes have been paid to Sir Chris Woodhead, the former chief inspector of schools, who has died after a battle with motor neurone disease.

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Sir Chris, 68, was a divisive figure when he led schools watchdog Ofsted from 1994 to 2000 – a tenure which included fierce clashes with teaching unions.

He began his teaching career in Shrewsbury before going on to become chief education adviser with the former Shropshire County Council and then Her Majesty's Chief Inspector of Schools.

There are many who will remember Sir Chris Woodhead as being a thorn in their side. And the late former chief inspector of schools would probably have quite liked that.

Sir Chris, who ran Ofsted between 1994 and 2000, was the opponent of mediocrity and complacency. He waged war on the incompetent and inadequate, winning as many detractors as he did fans.

Whether he was popular or not, however, is not the key issue. Sir Chris leaves a legacy of outstanding achievement. Because of his efforts, hundreds of thousands of children achieved better scores than they otherwise might have done.

They rose from a C to a B, or a B to an A, because he was a stickler for detail and created a climate in which teachers and their pupils were encouraged to excel.

Tributes have poured in following his death, with Education Secretary Nicky Morgan describing him as being an immense figure in the world of education. Her description is accurate, rather than hyperbolic.

Sir Chris was a trailblazer who was fearless and brave. He spoke inconvenient truths, telling people the things they didn't want to hear. His uncompromising attitude meant schools raised their game. And that, in turn, meant youngsters had a better chance to reach their potential.

His role in public life was not limited to his work with Ofsted. After being diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease in 2006, he made the best use of his later years. Sir Chris became patron of the campaign group Dignity in Dying, providing a voice to the small and too-often-unheard people in society.

He brought his forthright and courageous voice to those fighting for an assisted dying law. And he showed many how to face life's toughest challenge with no-nonsense courage.

Sir Chris was a controversial figure and there were many who found him divisive. He was a man who saw little point in the slow-slow diplomacy that is the modus operandi of some civil servants. Instead, he cut to the chase, making bullish remarks and fighting for higher standards and rapid reforms.

He will be remembered for challenging the education establishment and shaking things up from the top down.

He eventually resigned after a series of rows with then-education secretary David Blunkett.

He was diagnosed with motor neurone disease in 2006 and later liver cancer before he died yesterday morning.

Despite the controversy his intelligence and sense of humour were renowned among his peers, family and friends.

Peter Cates, a retired chief education officer from Shropshire, who appointed Sir Chris as his deputy in 1989, said he would be missed by all his family and friends.

He said: "He was a controversial figure in the public eye because he always called a spade a spade.

"In private he was a person with a great sense of adventure and a greater sense of fun."

Sir Chris started his career as a teacher in Shropshire in 1969 after moving from his home in Somerset because he loved the Shropshire Hills and Welsh mountains.

His first teaching post was in Shrewsbury at the Priory in Shrewsbury, when it was a grammar school.

He moved to teach in schools in Bristol and lectured at Oxford University, before returning to Shropshire 12 years later as the county's English adviser.

Mr Cates said Sir Chris became deputy CEO in 1989 and played a leading role in the "county's continued quest for excellence for Shropshire children".

"Chris was a passionate rock climber who loved the great outdoors," said Mr Cates.

"I worked particularly closely with him and he was well known for his enormous intelligence, probing questions and his capacity for coming up with solutions.

"In this post he was a controversial figure in the public eye but in private he was a person with a great sense of adventure and a greater sense of fun, devoted to his family.

"On his retirement he became chairman of Cognita, a company which operates schools worldwide.

"He was also a weekly columnist for the Sunday Times, in which he would answer questions from parents about education. In that column, which appeared until the end of his life, Chris was characteristically very forthright in his advice.

"Our thoughts are with his family who have cared for him during the final stages of this illness, which he fought until the end."

From Shropshire Sir Chris moved to Devon as deputy chief education officer and became chief executive of the National Curriculum Council.

During one of his many speeches he once said 4.2 per cent of the teaching profession was not up to the job, earning him angry attacks from teaching unions.

While terminally-ill and unable to feed, wash or dress himself, Sir Chris also campaigned for a change in the law on assisted suicide.

Sir Chris Woodhead

He said he might travel to the Dignitas clinic in Switzerland to end his life, having previously said he would rather be pushed off a cliff in his wheelchair than "go to Dignitas and sing Beatles songs with bearded social workers".

Sir Chris, who was given a knighthood for his services to education in 2011, became a passionate campaigner to pioneer research into a cure for his degenerative illness.

He took the bold step of launching the Chris Woodhead Foundation, which was set up to help MND patients less financially and personally fortunate than he was.

Writing on the foundation's website, he said the historian, Tony Judt, who died of Motor Neurone Disease in 2010, put it brilliantly when he said living with the disease was like being imprisoned in a cell which got six inches smaller every day.

Sir Chris wrote: "Statistically 50 per cent of MND patients die within two years of diagnosis.

"Within five years 90 per cent are dead. I was diagnosed in 2006, so my time is likely to be running out.

"I am okay with that. We all, after all, have to die. I would have liked a little longer, but I know, looking back, that I have been extremely lucky."

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