Some years ago I published an article in which I wrote that an idea expressed by a well-known edtech person was, in my opinion, silly. I listed the reasons I thought it was daft, and I received an email from a teacher stating that she completely agreed with me.

I emailed back and asked her if I could copy and paste her email into the comments section on the blog post. “I’d rather you didn’t.”, she replied. “My headteacher thinks that [edtech guru] is wonderful, and I’m worried that a negative comment could affect my career.”

I think that is terrible. The self-censorship described — not for reasons of tact and diplomacy but fear — is bad enough. But how do ideas get thrashed out and, by doing so, education made better if people are afraid to “call out” silliness.

As it happens, I’m pretty sure that the person in question would have been quite happy to discuss our differences in a civilised manner. He doesn’t regard himself as beyond criticism as far as I can tell.

Similarly, I once wrote a scathing (but, of course, very polite) article about something another well-known person had written. Later that day, I was going down an escalator at Waterloo Station, and he was coming up the other escalator!

“Hey _”, I cried as we passed each other. “I’ve just written a diatribe about you on my blog!”

He laughed. “Great! I look forward to reading it.”

True professionals not only don’t mind healthy criticism but welcome it. It’s often their acolytes who go into meltdown when anyone has the temerity to suggest that these “gurus” are not gods, and their work far from the highest pinnacle of educational thinking.

I was recently taken to task because I expressed doubt over the efficacy of a particular educational theory which, as it happens, I regard as not much more sophisticated that common sense. Was I aware, I was asked in a private message, that [another edtech guru] says this theory is essential knowledge?

Yes I am, but I don’t quite see the relevance. I’m as entitled to my opinion as anyone else.

Around ten years ago I attended a talk by [yet another education guru]. At the end of this 40 minute lecture I asked my colleague:

“Would a fair summary of that talk be: ‘There’s a problem in education and someone needs to do something about it.’?”

He thought for a few seconds. “That’s about right”, he replied.

Judging by the euphoria of the audience, we were in a minority of two.

I think it’s dangerous when people appear to surrender their critical judgement in the presence of a “guru”, either because they’ve been mesmerised or because they’re frightened to be the little boy in the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes.