Podcast Episode: “Heart in the Game” inspired by Will Greenwood*  

Posted on 27/05/2026 by jameswilding

Pip: There’s a version of civilisation that runs on broadcast rights and wage bills, and another that runs on hay bales, after-match pints, and children learning to fall over without crying. james wilding has been thinking hard about which one actually holds.

Mara: This episode sits inside that tension — community infrastructure, the economics of survival, and what it takes to keep the lights on when the professional model starts to wobble. Let’s start with the heart of the game itself.

“Heart in the Game” — What Keeps the Lights On

Pip: The professional rugby model gets most of the column inches, but the argument here is that it’s also the most fragile thing in the room — and that the clubs with real staying power are built on something the balance sheet can’t capture.

Mara: The post sets that up directly: “the professional rugby model is balancing on a fragile financial and existential tightrope, where high wage bills, over-reliance on volatile broadcast revenues, and severe player welfare crises leave even historic top-flight clubs vulnerable to sudden collapse.”

Pip: So the upshot is: size and prestige are no protection. Wasps Rugby is the example — a historic club that disconnected from its roots and created, as the post puts it, an identity vacuum. When the money left, there was nothing underneath to hold it.

Mara: The counter-model is the community club — woven into local fabric, generating players, volunteers, and supporters across generations. The earlier post, “The Cracked Pot: The Heart of the Game,” frames Will Greenwood’s view that rugby is fundamentally people and community, not a commercial enterprise.

Pip: And that framing does real work here, because the argument expands well beyond rugby. The Claires Court playing fields — a decade-long development project — now host over a thousand junior and adult players across football and cricket. The school did, as the post puts it, “its bit” for grassroots sport.

Mara: What’s striking is how the same logic threads through every institution in the piece. The Thatched Cottage pub nearby has become the after-match pavilion for the adult clubs at those fields — a local example of what the post calls community symbiosis. And the Licensed Trade Charity gets named explicitly as a protective force for exactly these kinds of anchoring institutions, operating as “a protective sanctuary for a sector under siege.”

Pip: Two pubs a day closing permanently is the number. That’s not a trend, that’s a structural collapse happening in slow motion.

Mara: The post draws the thread tight at the end: rugby clubs, agricultural land, local pubs, schools — none of them survive if treated as purely transactional assets. They require, in the post’s words, “heart, shared identity, and an understanding of their deep cultural values.”

Pip: There’s also a quietly poetic side to this — a new set of lyrics to “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” set to an original melody, prompted by looking out over those hay bales in the evening sun. The economics are urgent, but the register stays human.

Mara: That balance is probably the point. The storm is real — volatile weather, supply chains, taxation, demographic shifts — but the defence against it starts at ground level, not in a boardroom.

Mara: The throughline is consistent: institutions that survive are the ones people feel they belong to, not just use.

Pip: Which is either a hopeful argument or a very demanding one, depending on how many of those institutions are still standing near you. More from A Principled View next time.

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“Heart in the Game” inspired by Will Greenwood*  

Posted on 27/05/2026 by jameswilding

Over the 15 years I’ve been blogging, I’ve covered everything from the small & trivial to the earth-shattering and society-shaping that individuals have caused. When I posted about Will Greenwood’s work last month, https://jameswilding.blog/2026/05/08/the-cracked-pot-the-heart-of-the-game/, I’d become increasingly aware of the fragility of the professional game.

The professional rugby model is balancing on a fragile financial and existential tightrope, where high wage bills, over-reliance on volatile broadcast revenues, and severe player welfare crises leave even historic top-flight clubs vulnerable to sudden collapse. By over-professionalising, the elite game risks disconnecting entirely from its roots, as it did with Wasps Rugby club, creating an identity vacuum that strips the sport of its soul. In contrast, the clubs that survive and truly thrive will be those built from the bottom up on an unbreakable emotional infrastructure of community. 

Much like the generational conveyor belt of mini and junior rugby, a club deeply woven into its local fabric creates a continuous supply of players, volunteers, and lifelong supporters. These grassroots hubs provide exactly what modern youth need most: a safe space to build resilience, learn physical motor skills, and experience the profound alchemy of belonging. Ultimately, while professional franchises can lose sponsors or drop down leagues, a community-based club possesses a resilient heart—because, as Will Greenwood beautifully noted, rugby is not just a commercial enterprise; it is people, community, and the power of noticing others, which is the only foundation strong enough to keep the lights on when the storm hits.

Developing the ‘Claires Court Fields’ became one of my major projects over the last decade, and now I am delighted to report that the school has indeed done ‘its bit’ to promote the grassroots of local sport, providing homes for perhaps over 1000 junior and adult players alike, for football and cricket, as well as the school’s own sporting needs. As the header of this piece shows, the playing fields and their surroundings, taken on Monday evening, 27 May 2026, were bathed in brilliant sunshine. The first crop of hay can be seen in the large pink bales, ready now for transportation into the fodder barns. 

It’s difficult not to feel poetic when looking over such a landscape, and I wrote last week about the important support that school and head’s association can give when needed. My good friend John presented me with the new lyrics I’d created for  ‘You’ll never walk alone’ set to a musical score. Not wishing to plagiarise Richard Roger’s  music, I’ve found a new melody for the words – you can hear it here. https://suno.com/s/KotFFAhWRtPeFikR 

It’s only May, and the farmer is cropping hay so early? The dramatic rise in the value of hay in the UK market is the result of a “perfect storm” of extreme weather, supply chain disruptions, and soaring production costs. Once viewed as a modest, low-margin farm byproduct, hay has skyrocketed into a highly valuable commodity, with prices doubling or even tripling across the country. Locally, that’s in part because many of the fields have gone.

Just beyond the bales is my father’s local pub, the Thatched Cottage, or ‘Thatch’, as it’s always been known, when the family lived at Ridgeway. Of an evening, Dad would walk down for a quiet beer and a chat with the locals, and we’d accompany him and at first hand see what a unifying force the hostelry was, being a ‘local’ home for all. Then, the area was surrounded by farmland, whose memory you can read in the names of the roads, estates and institutions, Barley Mead, Farmers Way and Norden Farm, for example. That’s good news for the Thatch, of course, to see so many houses hosting many possible customers, but the appeal needs to be more universal than that, and pleasingly it has become the local after-match pavilion for the adult sports clubs now based at our fields next door, a really positive example of community symbiosis. 

In so many ways, local schools and the children whose education they provide face the same existential challenge, and not just because of changes in cost bases, taxation and regulation, but also due to the rapid shift in society’s demographics across much of the developed world, not unique to Maidenhead. Writing a critique on how Western civilisation finds itself in this place is not for now. The main reasons my parents were able to set up Claires Court in 1960 included the lack of sufficient school places for the burgeoning population of ‘baby boomers’. As school and education have evolved over the years, so the provision has needed to expand to cover not just the 3Rs, but also to promote challenge and opportunity, manage diversity yet retain inclusivity & health, and prepare young people for the wider world and employment opportunities, many of which may not yet exist!

As the stewardship of Claires Court has moved from one family to another, it’s worth highlighting just how important the role of the Licensed Trade Charity (LTC) is in supporting both our ambitions for education and the wider hospitality industry it champions. In an era where the economic headwinds are so severe that two pubs a day are closing their doors forever, the LTC’s mission is both honourable and urgently vital. It operates not just as an administrative body but as a protective sanctuary for a sector under siege—preserving the very places and the people behind them that have kept the British community anchored for centuries.

Ultimately, whether we look to the resilience of a community rugby club, the careful management of our agricultural land, the survival of the local hostelry, or the evolving care of our schools, we are looking at the exact same human endeavour. None of these institutions can survive if they are treated as purely transactional assets. They require heart, shared identity, and an understanding of their deep cultural values.

As the sun sets on the Claires Court fields, illuminating the pink hay bales, the “Thatch” in the background, and the spaces where thousands of children learn the alchemy of belonging, it is clear that our true strength lies in mutual support. By stepping into this educational space, the Licensed Trade Charity is expanding its circle of care, ensuring that the timeless values of service, resilience, and connection are passed down intact to the next generation. In a world of volatile change, it is this fierce defence of community life from the ground up that will ensure we keep the lights on, no matter what storms may hit.

*His series of films “Heart of the Game” about Maidenhead Rugby Football Club can be found on YouTube – https://youtu.be/LbXF3ZjjGLM?si=MSBPLR0o6rV80NGP

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The AI Divide: Why the DfE is Bringing a Butter Knife to a Tech Fight

Posted on 19/05/2026 by jameswilding

The following post is written in response to the government’s much-stated ambition to rapidly adopt AI and become a world leader in AI.

 With ChatGPT now at version 5.5 — and entire articles being written wholly by GPT-5 with zero human input — the integration of Artificial Intelligence into the classroom is no longer a dystopian prospect or sci-fi gimmick. It is a reality fundamentally reshaping how children learn, at a pace that demands urgent, dynamic leadership. Yet as AI accelerates, it’s also carving out a massive, unequal chasm between independent and state schools.

Pioneering private schools have spent years experimenting with advanced tools like Merlyn Mind and Google Workspace. National policy for the state sector, by contrast, has remained reactive, underwhelming, and stuck in the mud. If we want to fix this, the Department for Education needs to stop producing dense white papers and start learning from how the private sector built its trailblazing culture.

A Head Start That’s Becoming a Chasm

Independent schools had a massive advantage. Many were operating as digital laboratories long before ChatGPT arrived. Some have used AI-powered digital assistants since 2021 — treating them as “extra adults in the room” to handle admin and free teachers for what matters most. They’ve even introduced safe, curriculum-aligned AI to younger pupils, building early tech literacy.

Combined with infrastructure built on platforms like Google Workspace over a decade ago, the results are stark. According to the Sutton Trust’s 2025 research, private school teachers are significantly ahead in adoption, training, and strategy.

Private schools are three times more likely to have a clear AI strategy than state schools (27% vs 9%). Private teachers are more than twice as likely to have received formal AI training (45% vs 21%), and they report higher confidence and more sophisticated usage — from pupil reports to marking and parent communication.

Meanwhile, the state sector faces a severe strategy deficit. A staggering 91% of state school teachers say their school has no clear, unified AI strategy. Without direction, AI use becomes fragmented — mostly quick lesson planning rather than the deeper administrative and pedagogical transformation seen in the independent sector.

Training, Hardware, and the Home Access Gap

Even well-intentioned peer training in state schools hits a wall: hardware and access. Independent schools often provide 1:1 devices, while many pupils from lower socio-economic backgrounds lack a reliable laptop at home for personalised AI tutoring.

The government’s response has centred on platforms like Aila through Oak National Academy — a well-meaning, safe, and free tool designed to reduce workload and meet DfE safety standards. It’s a solid start for consistency and equity of access. But it risks becoming a rigid, “Big Mac” solution: highly processed, one-size-fits-all content in a world demanding creativity and flexibility. Tools like Canva Magic Studio or Google AI Studio, used more freely in private settings, offer greater dynamism.

We’re essentially waiting for an educational Jamie Oliver to point out that algorithmic Turkey Twizzlers alone won’t nourish the next generation.

Culture Eats Strategy

There’s a famous management adage: “Culture eats strategy for breakfast.” It has never been more relevant. Bridget Phillipson and the DfE can issue all the top-down mandates, toolkits, and guidance they like. Without fostering genuine empowerment, experimentation, and professional trust, state schools will continue to fall behind.

Independent schools didn’t succeed because of a government memo. They empowered “digital champions,” invested in peer-to-peer training, and did the messy work of navigating data privacy, bias, and integration over years.

Time for Leadership, Not Lagging

We don’t have time for more white papers. With GPT-5.5 demonstrating capabilities once thought years away — including fully autonomous, hours-long complex workflows — education needs dynamic leadership and informed stewardship right now.

If the Secretary of State genuinely wants AI to be a gap-closer rather than an engine of deeper inequality, she should look beyond the political divide and treat trailblazing independent schools as partners, not opponents.

Practical steps could include:

  • Funding cross-sector innovation pilots that let state schools adopt and adapt proven private-sector approaches.
  • Greater procurement flexibility so schools aren’t locked into single national platforms.
  • Targeted investment in devices and home access for disadvantaged pupils.
  • Backing digital champions in every school with time, budget, and autonomy.
  • Regulatory sandboxes that encourage safe experimentation while maintaining rigorous safeguards.

The alternative is clear: another generation watching the future being built on the other side of the school gates. It’s time to move from a policy of catching up to one of genuine leadership.

James Wilding

Google Certified Innovator

AFIS Patron

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“You’ll never walk alone” – a tribute to my school and Headteachers’ Association.

Posted on 16/05/2026 by jameswilding

When my wife Jenny and I entered teaching in 1975, the choice was both deliberate and happenstance. I was the son of David and Josephine Wilding, who met at Kings College London when undergraduates studying History, who entered teaching as a career in the early fifties. They determined to set up their own Prep School, found a property called Claires Court in Maidenhead and opened for business in 1960. Embued with the experience of living with entrepreneurial educators, when Dad and Mum offered me a job as a junior Maths, Science and Games teacher, and Jenny a post of teaching secondary History at Newlands school in Maidenhead, our married lives commenced working together in the same career at a perfect time.

In January 1981, I became Master-in-charge of the newly formed Senior School, the juniors being hived off to Ridgeway, the house my parents added to expand boarding in 1964. With my brother Hugh, who’d joined the business to take over the bursar’s function earlier in 1980, I became fellow Principal in 1984, and from then onwards, I joined the collegiate role of school leadership. it’s been a blast.

This April, after 45 years as a head and 36 years as a member of the Independent Schools Association, I stepped down as the Headteacher of Claires Court, notifying both the Government and ISA that I had ceased to be the name in charge. When Rachel from Accounts decided to tax family businesses into oblivion in her November 2024 budget, we were left with no choice other than find a suitable charity into which to reverse the school, the sale of Claires Court in 19 February this year to the Licensed Trade Charity, LTC, provided the perfect solution.

Aged 72, and since 1992 a serving member of Executive Council, the now central body of Headteacher Trustees, my last Annual conference as the school member of the Association was held this week in Bristol. I was privileged to have my time celebrated with the 100+ delegates in attendance at the Annual dinner this Thursday. To date I’ve taken the step away from headship into a new supporting role for the school, managing the 40+ working partnerships and relationships with the wider community in my stride. This Friday, the emotion of the very real severance of my work for school and association hit me. 

Yet by now, as I write this on Saturday 16 May 2026, so many from the wide number of friends from the school (past and present), fellow headteachers, Principals and leaders in education, I realise they saw this coming. I’ve never considered my job as anything other than making a difference in the lives of the children in my care. At its biggest, Claires Court has had over 1100 pupils and 400+ employees, so it’s been a heck of a commitment, but it’s also been a whole bale of fun. 

Jenny and I have lived our lives very privately. We’ve 2 amazing sons, their partners and children (3 boys, Boston Terrier Terence, Freddie & Bertie in order of arrival), my brother’s mob and wider families and chums, our future remains in Maidenhead. By now, after all those years recognised in national contribution, my place is here, my home town, my safe space. Of course, I’ll take a bit of a blow on the sidelines, yet happy in the knowledge that my love of Rugby, Cricket, Golf and Football remains here in the town, associated with all 4 clubs, eponymously named. And above all, I know I’m not alone after all.

And whilst I’ve been a supporter of Chelsea Football club all my life, I can’t help connecting with one of the most brilliant songs of my childhood, “You’ll never walk alone” sung by Gerry and the Pacemakers.

When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high,

And don’t be afraid of the dark.

At the end of a storm, there’s a golden sky,

And the sweet, silver song of a lark. 

Walk on through the wind,

Walk on through the rain,

Though your dreams be tossed and blown. 

Walk on, walk on,

With hope in your heart,

And you’ll never walk alone.

You’ll never walk alone.

Walk on, walk on,

With hope in your heart,

And you’ll never walk alone.

Thank you, all my friends and colleagues. Whilst my journey’s not yet over, it has been a bit rocky for a little while this Spring. If I may add, somewhat imperfectly to the original verses written by Rodgers and Hammerstein in their 1945 musical Carousel. 

“You’ve reached out through the storm, 

seen the tears in my eyes 

Yet renewed my faith in my choice.

I have hope in my heart,

 I’ve seen the sun break through,

As I know I don’t walk alone.

And I love you all for that.

I can’t thank you enough.

Have faith in my strength.

I’ll be strong now I’m through,

My heart’s in the Game,

And you know above all,

I know you are there,

So I’ll do the same.

Responsibility, Respect

Loyalty next,

And Integrity above all.”

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The Cracked Pot – THE HEART OF THE GAME

Posted on 08/05/2026 by jameswilding

The Cracked Pot* is a famous fable about a water bearer with two pots—one perfect, one cracked—who carries water daily. The cracked pot feels ashamed of leaking half its load until the bearer reveals it watered seeds planted along the path, creating beautiful flowers. It teaches that flaws can create beauty, urging acceptance of imperfections.

One of the opportunities I have always loved about my role as a teacher ( 51 years now and counting) is the influence you can have in your classroom and on the children (or adults) therein. Of course, it’s the same as you rise up through leadership into headship on not just the people you lead but the culture of the operation in hand. If you choose to move irto other areas of life, be that for me to lead the development of Mini and Junior Rugby at Maidenhead RFC (1991-2000) onto the wider stage, if you choose, to influence, if you can, the culture and as a consequence the sense of wellbeing and success of the community you’ve joined.

When my older son expressed an interest in joining his school friends at Maidenhead Rugby Club on a Sunday morning, we swapped church for Braywick, the club’s home. Imagine my surprise to find that there were only 28 players in the mini-section, U7 through to U12. When I asked other parents why so few were signing up, it was because Rugby at the time was beset by stories of poor coaching, poor organisation, and, above all, injuries, particularly to the head. Whilst my initial intention was to drop my son off and hop over to the driving range next door to improve my golf swing, after 2 Sundays, my son had yet to touch a rugby ball, and the age group concerned, just a couple of footballing dads without a clue.

I’d already developed a relationship with Rhino Rugby with the school, and so I bought 72 neoprene headguards, and within the first month of the following season, every rugby player from Under 10 down was required to wear one, and by the time the third season started, the other clubs in the area began to fear Maidenhead, because of course protected by the headguard, the young players were able to be far more committed to the tackle. In that first cohort of players was a 6-year-old James Haskell, whose father Jonathan (RIP) was an inspirational chairman to work with, and clearly, as James wore such a helmet throughout his professional career for Saracens, England and the British & Irish Lions, I played my small part.

Rugby is one of those team sports for which Coaches know they need both the perfect and the cracked pots. I recall endless quiet moments at the side of the pitch,’ horse-whispering’ the child who felt so useless because he dropped the ball which would have led to a certain try, or missed a tackle that led to defeat, not victory. Like on the sports ground, in education, manufacturing, business and service industries, as Jim Collins might say, “you’ve got the right people on the bus, you just haven’t got them in the right seat”! Make them feel valued. Sometimes it’s about helping them see that there’s an objective to share, such as the Janitor at NASA. When asked what he was doing, he replied: “I’m helping put a man on the moon!”

Will Greenwood has just produced 5 short videos highlighting his current time at the same Club, Maidenhead, entitled “The Heart of the Game”. Will goes behind the scenes, exploring rugby’s impact beyond the pitch through powerful personal stories and voices from across the game. He recalls turning up one dreadful December training evening at Maidenhead, to find only 12 players present for the First and Second squads, and found himself wondering, “Why am I here?”. Over the course of the 5 films, we are introduced to a host of characters that make the club the success that it now is, but it was Will’s sense that the Rugby players needed to see themselves as ‘Brad Pitts’ on film, to big them up and help them see more clearly what they place was in the mission of the club. You can find those films on YouTube, the first episode here https://youtu.be/LbXF3ZjjGLM?si=wuTJB30Ow1PkcRIM

Will Greenwood finishes the series with the conclusion that “After everything, the Truth is simple. For Rugby is People, Rugby is Community, Rugby is Belonging. It’s the small victories that feel massive; it’s the safe spaces we build for each other, it’s the laughter, the tears, the graft, the kindness, all stitched together by 80 minutes on a Saturday. And as the whistle blows on another season, and the next one begins, we are reminded once again

THIS IS THE HEART OF THE GAME.

And Ave to that. Whatever the enterprise, the Truth is simple. And for those who lead, keep returning to these truths, and remember that in your role, it’s good noticing that counts best. Well done the Potter, Well done the Coach, well done the President who asked the Janitor the question and well done Will Greenwood – That’s why you are of course, a World Cup Rugby Champion 2003.

*The “Cracked Pot” story is a popular folk tale often attributed to India or China. It is a widely shared parable used to teach self-worth, highlighting how a woman/man uses a leaking pot to water flowers along a path, turning an imperfection into a source of beauty and purpose. 

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“Even Blunkett Knew: Setting Should Be The Norm”.

Posted on 30/04/2026 by jameswilding

In the quiet rhythm of a good school, you can often sense when things are working as they should. A teacher adjusts the work to the child in front of them — stretching one pupil who is racing ahead, gently supporting another who needs more time. The lesson flows. Confidence grows. Character is quietly formed through effort and modest success.

Yet for decades, this natural rhythm has too often been disrupted by an ideological preference for mixed ability teaching in all circumstances. It is therefore worth revisiting a moment of refreshing honesty from a Labour Education Secretary who had the time to look carefully at what actually worked in classrooms.

In his 1997 White Paper *Excellence in Schools*, David Blunkett wrote with characteristic directness:

> “Mixed ability teaching has proved successful only in the hands of the best teachers and should be used only where it is appropriate and can be seen to be effective. We would expect setting to be the norm.”

Blunkett enjoyed something that has become increasingly rare in British education: time in post. He served as Secretary of State for Education for just over four years. In the years since, the revolving door at the Department for Education has spun ever faster. The average tenure has fallen to around two years, with some ministers passing through for little more than a season — and a few for mere weeks. With each change, institutional memory grows thinner and education policy has too often followed the personal priorities or political pressures of the minister of the day, rather than a steady, coherent plan for our children.

This lack of continuity matters deeply. When ministers come and go so quickly, practical wisdom struggles to take root. What remains is too often shaped by short-term whim instead of the patient realities of school life.

From more than five decades of experience at Claires Court, I have seen both the strengths and limitations of different approaches with clear eyes. Setting works particularly well at secondary level for English, Maths and Science. These are hierarchical, cumulative subjects where concepts build sequentially. A secure grasp of fractions supports algebra; foundational sentence construction underpins more sophisticated literary analysis. In well-setted groups, teachers can match pace and depth appropriately, reducing frustration for those who need more time and preventing brighter pupils from marking time.

Even in these carefully setted classes, however, size still matters. When numbers rise much above 24, even the best teaching begins to fray. Individual attention and responsive feedback become harder to sustain. Misconceptions go unchecked for longer. The teacher’s ability to build deep relationships with every pupil weakens, and the sheer volume of marking and planning pushes towards shallower tasks. Progress slows not because of poor intent, but because human attention and relational teaching have their natural limits.

Conversely, I also recognise why mixed ability grouping can work better in many other secondary subjects — History, Geography, Religious Studies, Art, Music, Drama and PE, for example. These subjects often thrive on discussion, collaboration, peer modelling, interpretation and the rich exchange of different perspectives. Stronger pupils can raise the quality of debate and act as natural models, while the social and creative nature of the work benefits from diversity within the group.

At primary level, the case is rather different and leans more strongly towards classroom stability. With one class teacher largely responsible for the whole breadth of a child’s learning and development, deep knowledge of each child becomes even more vital. At these formative stages, young minds are growing and changing rapidly; what a child struggles with in one term may suddenly click in the next. The continuity and personal understanding that a single teacher can provide far outweigh the benefits of early pigeonholing by ability. In primary years, it is often wiser to keep children together in stable classes where the teacher can nurture the whole child, adapting support and challenge day by day as they grow.

At Claires Court we have long sought a “Goldilocks solution” — one that is large enough to challenge, small enough to care. We deliberately keep class sizes around “plus or minus 18”. This is neither so small that pupils lack the healthy friction and breadth of peer interaction that builds resilience and character, nor so large that teachers lose the capacity to know each child deeply and respond to their individual needs in the moment.

This balanced approach allows us to use setting where it brings the greatest benefit — particularly in the core hierarchical subjects — while retaining the flexibility of mixed ability or broader banding where collaboration and diverse viewpoints enrich learning. Above all, it protects the conditions in which skilled teachers can truly teach: with enough time to care, enough stretch to challenge, and enough continuity to help every child develop the character, resilience and self-worth that will serve them long after they leave our gates.

In the end, education is a long game. It does not thrive when treated as a short-term political project to be reshaped with every change of minister. What our children need is principled, practical wisdom that respects the realities of how young people learn and grow — the very wisdom David Blunkett glimpsed back in 1997, and the kind we continue to pursue at Claires Court every day.

**Et Omnes Unum Sunt.**

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The Engine of Character: “Show up on the BAD days

Posted on 23/04/2026 by jameswilding

As I write this, the air in the halls of Claires Court has shifted. It is late April 2026, and the “stratosphere” of school life feels particularly charged. For our Year 13s, the countdown has reached its final sequence. Next week, the familiar rhythm of the school bell will be replaced by the quiet, intense focus of study leave.

I found myself standing before them this morning—joined by our Year 12s, who are watching their mentors prepare for the jump—to share a final thought together. I started with a quote that has been rattling around my mind lately: Champions aren’t made on good days; they’re made by showing up on the bad ones.1

It’s a sentiment that rings true whether you are a world-class athlete, a student facing a daunting Further Maths paper, or a Principal navigating the “bumpy ride” of a major institutional handover. Success is easy when the sun is out and the coffee is working. But the real work—the “alchemy” of growth—happens on those Tuesday mornings when you’re tired, the mock results weren’t what you hoped, and you’d rather be anywhere else. That is where a champion is forged.

We often treat A-Level results as the destination. In reality, they are merely a high-performance vehicle. These grades are the engine and the bodywork; they determine how fast you can go and what doors you can open. But as I told our students, even the fastest of cars is useless without a driver.

“That driver is your Character.

In a 2026 landscape where AI can simulate knowledge and algorithms can mimic problem-solving, your human values—our Claires Court values—are the fuel. Without them, you are just a fast car with no one at the wheel.”

I challenged them to look at our four pillars not as school rules, but as survival gear for the world beyond our gates:

  1. Responsibility: Taking 100% ownership. Not blaming the exam board or the “bad day,” but deciding to be the operator of your own life rather than a passenger.
  2. Respect: Recognising that we are an interconnected network. In the heat of exam season, respect means being the person who calms the room rather than adding to the panic.
  3. Loyalty: Understanding that the “Family” doesn’t end at graduation. These peers are your safety net for life.
  4. Integrity: This is the cornerstone of the entire Sixth Form experience. We ask you to “Aim High, Believe in Yourself, and Make a Difference”, but those are more than just aspirational rungs on a ladder. They are a test of character. If your achievements aren’t built on a foundation of absolute honesty, the structure you’ve worked so hard to build will eventually find its own level—and usually, it collapses.

As I readied our Year 13 for their final week of study before departing on study leave, I left them with one final biological reality check. 

“We are built with a very specific ratio: two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, and only one mouth. The world you are stepping into is noisy. It is full of people jumping to early conclusions and shouting over the data. My advice to you, our departing seniors, is to honour that ratio. Look and listen twice as much as you speak. Breathe in the environment and see the world from all sides before you decide you have the final answer. Be the person who understands the room before they try to lead it. The results will open the doors, but your character will keep you in the room. Show up on the bad days, keep your eyes open, and go and see the world clearly.”

“Et Omnes Unum Sunt”

Footnote 1 UFC Featherweight and current Lightweight champion Ilia Topuria

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Reflection: The View from the Stratosphere

Posted on 16/04/2026 by jameswilding

“Evening all,” as Dixon of Dock Green used to say. It is a strange and wonderful thing to be an in-service Principal leaning back to watch a younger, more talented generation lead your school toward a bright new future.

The Handover

Passing the baton to Christine Cunniffe and the team at Claires Court in the early Spring of 2026 has been a strategic necessity. While it successfully shielded a family business from the Chancellor’s deepening reach, the true victory lies elsewhere: uniting our school with the Licensed Trade Charity. This partnership provides the scale and reach essential for the decades ahead. At the same time, I know I carry a lot of that history with me, hence my privilege in presenting to Gareth Wellen and family his ISA Whitbread Certificate for outstanding performance at GCSE this Thursday 16 April, and to be able to lead the Sixth Form assembly next Thursday before Year 13 depart on A-level leave. 

The Artemis Transition

As with the NASA Artemis 2 return to Earth overnight, a transition of this magnitude is bound to be a bumpy ride for a time. However, with the Summer term now with us, and significant investment liberated for new works and projects, the momentum is undeniable. I am very clear that my on-going purpose is to develop further the many relationships, business and otherwise, that we’ve formed as an institution to date, and as each interest comes into focus, I’ll certainly publicise where next for that interest. For example, this week has included ensuring our 4 main cricket squares are ready for the new season, and with 6 major adult teams based at CC, it’s great news to report that we’ve been able to install 2 new artificial wickets into place to support the game should the weather otherwise prevent play.

Looking Ahead

In my developing role as Principal Emeritus, I find myself looking after more such features in the “stratosphere.” The PTA remains an incredibly important feature of Claires Court life, and now formally as a Trustee, I can help shape that even more closely to meet the school and community’s lead for years to come. My own interest in research and academy has remained as keen as ever, so being able to contribute to national debate and to represent our sector is of equal importance. While I will inevitably look back to ensure safe landings for those on the ground, my focus remains fixed on the stars. It is in the strength of our grasp for the future that the promise we offer our students—young and old—will be fulfilled.

“Et Omnes Unum Sunt”

(That they all may be one)

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Rockets Climbing, Voices Calling: Finding Light in Dark Times

Posted on 04/04/2026 by jameswilding

During this Easter break from the routines of school life, I’ve managed at last to catch up on some private reading and reconnect with what’s happening in the wider world.
My goodness, what a sobering contrast it presents. With the terrifying war continuing to grind on in Ukraine and the Middle East now in flames following the choice of Trump and Netanyahu to take on Iran and their allies, and our own governments seemingly losing the plot on more local matters by the day, it does the heart good to see that humans are heading back to the Moon once more.
I’m reminded how, in the bleak days of the Vietnam War, two quite different forces helped lift the spirits of a troubled age: NASA’s audacious mission to put man on the Moon, and the creative, artistic flowering of the Sixties that did so much to emancipate minds and societies across the globe.
Today, too, we are seeing voices of reason re-emerging to recentre us. Figures like Germaine Greer and J.K. Rowling have stood firm in reminding society of a simple biological truth: that a child’s sex is determined at birth. In an age of fashionable confusion, their clarity helps anchor us back to material reality rather than ideology.
Alongside them, the sharp humour of Ricky Gervais has cut through the noise, poking fun at the modern explosion of adults catastrophising their own lives — and those of their children — around mental illness and anxiety. With a wry eye, he helps us recentralise around what it actually means to be human: imperfect, resilient, and far more robust than today’s therapeutic culture often suggests.
Perhaps that’s how it has always been. When the headlines grow dark and the outlook feels heavy, we need both wonder and imagination — rockets climbing toward the stars, songs, stories and ideas that set the soul free, and clear voices that call us back to biological and psychological reality. In such times, exploration, creativity, and plain speaking are not luxuries; they are lifelines. And right now, it feels quietly reassuring to be reminded that we remain capable of all three.

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Beyond the Digital Wilderness: Finding Our “Rat Park” in the Age of AGI

Posted on 20/03/2026 by jameswilding

Dateline: 20 March 2026

Claires Court U15 RFU Vase final v Wirral Grammar School at Ealing Trailfinders 2026

Here in the United Kingdom in 2026, education centres are rapidly moving from the cold, dank days of winter with what now feels like lightning speed. With spring sunshine abounding, the mood can’t help but be optimistic for the future beyond the Easter break. In school and our wider town, the shorts are out, the sculls on the river, the rollers flattening the cricket squares, there’s a smile on the faces and a skip in the step. Put simply, we are on the seasonal helter-skelter, gravity is doing its work, and we’ve just got to hang on tight. How can we wrest back control?

I shared a speaker platform on Wednesday with Sir Anthony Sheldon, looking forward to a world which has chosen for its children a smartphone-free life, whilst being up-skilled in understanding how to use Artificial General Intelligence to keep control of the new technologies that threaten to accelerate the 4 phase of revolution 10 times faster than the stage the UK led, that third stage we know as the Industrial revolution. It’s been extraordinary that, in a rash societal experiment, whilst we’d never provide our children with unlimited access to alcohol, many have been given screens to enjoy gaming with, but underpinned by technology built to make the consumption of social media deeply more addictive. Across the globe, countries aren’t just banning smartphones; they’re retreating to books, parents, and handwriting, in an effort to regain the cognitive development expected of teenagers and young adults now deemed perhaps a ‘lost’ generation.

Anthony extended the rollercoaster, accelerating us through what AGI would bring humanity within most of the current living population’s lifetimes. Wherever computing power has been achieved so far, quantum computing takes us into a new dimension where ideas we could never have conceived arise spontaneously as a result of algorithms working in ways yet to be imagined. This all seems very threatening, and it is, and the challenge is to determine whether, as humans, we have the capability to respond and react at 10 times the speed seen to date?

Being the optimist I am, I see the challenges now faced are as unexpected as they’ve been in the past. I’m reading articles talking about Generation Alpha being unable to process in the traditional ways of the past, doomed as their lives have been, completely changed by the never-ending screen doomscrolling, becoming unmanageable at home and at school. It’s said that traditional discipline – punishment, timeouts, taking things away- doesn’t work; their brains need explanation and collaboration, not authority. These kinds of sweeping statements seem to ignore that what is now being described is actually teenage adolescence, which has always been thus. What’s changed is the growing impotence of the grown-ups around the children to make the difference, change the record and get cracking on including their young, getting their engines running and helping them ‘crack-on’.

We’ve known we needed to do this throughout the written history of humanity. Some 2,400 years ago, the Greek philosopher Aristotle introduced two different ways of reasoning: syllogism, logical reasoning, and phronesis, often translated as practical wisdom or prudence, referring to the ability to make sound judgments and decisions based on moral understanding and practical experience. At the conference yesterday, involving heads, bursars, operations managers, and academics from the independent sector, we saw the challenges but also the opportunities and the conditions that need to be provided to bring children and young people in from the digital wilderness that might otherwise consume them.

Over the last few days, I’ve seen and heard of our athletes at Claires Court rowing in the School’s Head on the tideway, playing in the U15 Rugby RFU Vase final, gymnasts being placed in national finals, whilst witnessed amazing A level Drama performances, hearing of musical concerts for young and old, fancy dress and mufti days, Year 7 solving the heinous crimes committed during Science Week and all. The reality of school life with me is both families severely limiting screen time and making sure the absence created is tolerated and alternative solutions found, and school safely introducing through education programmes and understanding of AI and its uses and usefulness. In short, the grown-ups are capable of exercising their phronesis, making practical choices and creating healthy environments. It’s ‘Rat Park’ revisited, a 1970s experiment which revolutionised the understanding of addiction by highlighting the importance of environmental richness and social connections, shifting the focus from solely biological explanations to include social determinants of health. With only morphine solution available, rats quickly drank themselves to death, yet when toys etc. were added, the rats ignored the drugs and lived a much healthier life.

​Ultimately, the goal is to shift the narrative from “screen doom scrolling” and “digital wilderness” to intentional, human-centred engagement. By exercising our own phronesis, we can bridge the gap between traditional authority and the collaborative needs of modern adolescence. Whether it is through partition or Cup Finals, the arts or forensic sciences, we must provide the “toys” in the park that make the addictive lure of the digital cage lose its appeal.

​As we navigate this seasonal helter-skelter, we must remain the optimists who believe that the challenges of AGI can be met with the same resilience as the Industrial Revolution. By up-skilling our children to understand these new technologies while simultaneously retreating to the grounding influence of books, handwriting, and face-to-face parenting, we ensure they are not a “lost” generation. We have the tools to change the record; now, it is simply time to get our engines running and help our young people truly crack on.

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