My younger cousin, Kaitlyn, is one of an estimated two million young people across Scotland and England with special educational needs and disabilities (SEND).
While the traditional classroom was a place of opportunity for me – nurturing my curiosity, confidence and love of learning – it was often a source of frustration for Kaitlyn; an environment that made it challenging for her to engage and reach her full potential. Her experience is one shared by many families navigating the system today.
It is against this backdrop that the UK government’s Department for Education (DfE) has come under fire following the launch of its latest campaign, featuring reality TV personality Gemma Collins.
In the first of a series of videos, Collins struts into the department’s headquarters to a Devil Wears Prada soundtrack, asking, “What are we doing to help the children?” before sitting down with education secretary Bridget Phillipson to discuss vocational routes for post-16 learners.
The logic is clear. Collins left school with minimal qualifications and doesn’t hold a university degree. With millions of Instagram devotees, she is well placed to reach younger generations that politicians routinely struggle to engage, to champion alternative routes to employment, and encourage her teenage followers to do the same.
However valid the rationale for these videos might be, in terms of appealing to a hard-to-reach audience, the reality is that it has also succeeded in alienating another key stakeholder group. Parent-led campaign group SEND Sanctuary UKdescribed the campaign as “beyond tone-deaf”, while another said they felt the approach was “downright insulting”.
We all tend to view the world principally through the lens of our own experiences. It’s not that we’re incapable of empathy – of understanding how others might feel and think – but the way audiences interpret messages is inevitably shaped by their own realities and the frustrations they face every day.
Schools remain under sustained funding pressures. Staff and education coordinators are operating beyond capacity, with increasingly limited resources. Thousands of families are exhausted and fighting for support for their children. A government consultation on reforms to SEND provision in England had just closed.
It is reasonable to question whether the DfE gave sufficient weight to this context in its decision to release the Collins campaign.
The education secretary’s dismissal of the criticism – mostly from those seeking clarity and meaningful engagement from decision-makers on issues important to them – as a “killjoy attitude” has done little to repair relations with an influential group of parents.
Good communications campaigns are clear-sighted about their objectives, their audiences, their messages, and the channels they have at their disposal. Much time will be invested in defining why something is being done, who it is for, whatneeds to be said, and how best to reach them.
When the answers are clear, it is easy to sail straight into delivery mode on a wave of positive momentum. But the most successful also pause to pose one more question: where are the risks?
While no organisation can fully predict or manage how every individual will feel, a little empathy and emotional intelligence are essential to mitigating communications risks. They help you to consider how your message and tone may be perceived across a range of stakeholders, in different contexts, and in a moment of heightened sensitivity.
Did the DfE consider a negative reaction from parents of children with SEND as a gamble worth taking? Maybe. Did they think through how they would deal sensitively with challenging feedback? I’m not sure, based on the evidence available.
The strongest communication strategies account for multiple stakeholder groups and perform the delicate balancing of opportunity and risk. They ensure trust isn’t undermined among one audience in the pursuit of awareness and behavioural change in another.
Context, timing, and perception are equally important as the message itself.
Without consideration, you risk alienating people – such as Kaitlyn and families like mine – whose confidence and trust should count for something.