Just an academic

In education, we should be talking about children in their whole, the layered and complex individuals that they are. Indeed, when in meeting we often pull in the expertise of others; social workers, Ed psychs and specialist advisor teachers. When they aren’t there, we lament their absence. However, I’ve noticed that in professional spaces, adults are frequently reduced in precisely the ways we claim to avoid.

This week, during a conference panel, I shared my hope: that one day Alternative Provision might no longer need to exist, not because it lacks value, but because early intervention, inclusion, and statutory responsibilities are met so well that fewer children reach crisis.

Afterwards, an audience member responded by referring to me as “just an academic.” The phrase was brief (although said twice!) but revealing. It attempted to narrow a wide span of work in frontline education and policy into a single, supposedly tidy category.

Erving Goffman’s work on social roles offers a helpful lens here. He argued that in everyday life, each of us performs multiple identities depending on the context we step into: practitioner, researcher, leader, colleague, parent, learner. These roles coexist; none alone captures the whole person. Yet, audiences often prefer a simplified version of others, a single role that feels easier to understand, or easier to dismiss. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like being called an “expert”, I just have experiences and in a narrow field at that.

The phrase “just an academic” works in exactly that way. It reduces a broad set of experiences and contributions into a single identity, one that can be discounted if you choose. It avoids engaging with the argument itself, and instead reframes the speaker. The comment also fell into what is known as an ad hominem response, an approach that focuses on the individual making an argument rather than the argument itself. The term comes from the Latin ad hominem, meaning “to the person.” Instead of engaging with the substance of a point, an ad hominem shifts attention to the speaker’s role, character, or identity, implicitly suggesting that the argument can be dismissed because of who is making it. In this case, the phrase “just an academic” functioned as exactly that kind of diversion, reducing the discussion to a judgement about the speaker rather than the ideas being explored.

What struck me was not the personal slight, but what it represents: how quickly nuanced conversations about education can collapse into assumptions about who is “allowed” to speak or which identities are deemed legitimate. They are a “prog” or “trad” is another way in which this is attempted.

The reality of those that working in and around Alternative Provision is that they hold multiple, overlapping and sometimes even conflicting roles. Practitioners develop deep practical wisdom; academics contribute research and frameworks; policymakers shape structures; families offer lived insight. None of these roles diminishes the others. In fact, the most robust conversations happen when these identities are recognised as complementary rather than competing. We can also hold those roles at the same time and use our knowledge in one space to support the other. I may advise on policy but it comes from my experience of direct practice, in the classroom and leading AP.

When discussing the future of AP, we need space for all parts of that ecosystem. No single role has a monopoly on understanding, and no single perspective is sufficient on its own. Reducing someone to “just” anything narrows the potential for collaboration and limits the depth of discussion.

If we are serious about designing a system where fewer children face exclusion or crisis, then we must resist the urge to simplify people’s identities simply because it makes a challenging idea easier to ignore.

Complex work requires complex contributors and contributions. Complexity in itself, isn’t a weakness, is a strength we should recognise more often. Debate too has its place and I value my ideas and approach being critiqued, but not who I am and my views dismissed.

(By the way it’s interesting I was dismissed in this way as I’m not restarting my PhD until January so frankly it’s a bit weird. I think there are issues with someone people be threatened by that idea 🤷🏻‍♀️ )