I have an unusual ambition: I want to make my college a panda-free zone. Admittedly, pandas are seldom spotted roaming central Scotland. But, in my view, there are far too many of them obstructing the efforts of our colleges, and our hard-working staff and students. Allow me to explain.

Three years ago, I became principal at Forth Valley College. Before that, I spent 20 years holding the roles of lecturer, head of department and deputy principal. When I was appointed to the top job, I knew all too well about the hefty workload and the shedload of forms that had to be filled in. I knew things could be made better for staff.

So, when I introduced a new “making learning work” strategy, I said we had to tackle bureaucracy. I asked staff to let me know where they saw unnecessary red tape so we could do our best to deal with it.

Bear necessities

Three weeks after announcing this gem of a proposition, I had received the grand total of two suggestions. A disappointing response, given that I knew we could really do something about this.

A few weeks later, I was asked in a meeting about my qualifications. I responded that I had a degree in zoology. The next question caught me by surprise: “What do you think of pandas?” My view, I explained, was that pandas shouldn’t be here. They survive on one food (bamboo), they live a solitary existence and they mate for the grand total of three hours a year. They’re cuddly, cute, rare and everyone loves them. However, if natural selection had its way, they’d have been wiped out long ago. All tongue in cheek, of course, but I said I’d be honest, so apologies to panda lovers.

That night, I was chatting with my daughter and suggested that the big teddy bear in her room could find a new home in the attic, given that she was now a teenager. “No, definitely not,” was her reply. But why not? “I’ve always had it, don’t know why, but it’s always been there.” Bingo. That was the moment that led to the word panda being introduced into the vocabulary of Forth Valley College.

Over the next two weeks, I went around carrying out briefings, brandishing a giant picture of a panda. “You might not remember what the principal says,” I told bemused colleagues, “but you’ll remember he asked you to find our pandas.” I explained what I thought of pandas and why I felt they shouldn’t be here. My staff were told to find their own pandas - to root out things we shouldn’t be doing and things we should be changing. I also encouraged them to come forward with new ideas to do things better.

‘If natural selection had its way pandas would be wiped out’

Within two weeks, we had more than 50 ideas, ranging from doing away with meetings and form-filling to new ideas for business transformation. I wanted staff to ask: “Why are we doing this?” If there was a good reason to complete a task for, say, quality assurance or compliance purposes, then so be it. However, if they couldn’t explain why, we encouraged change. Meetings were dropped; forms were merged; people went paperless. Most importantly, staff were encouraged to innovate.

This is an edited version of an article in the 16 December edition of TES. Subscribers can read the full story here. To subscribe, click here. To download the digital edition, Android users can click here and iOS users can click here. TES magazine is available at all good newsagents.

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