The State of Bavaria has just passed a law requiring public buildings to display a crucifix over the door, a move intended (we’re told) to cement the region’s sense of statehood and of identity: presumably a Christian identity.

I have no idea as to how “Christian” Bavarian society actually feels. It might be interesting to learn what proportion of the population regards itself as Christian, let alone goes to church on a Sunday. Hmm.

Such a law is alien to the psychology of the average Brit. To be sure, when the World Cup is on cars and houses will sport St George’s Crosses in support for our national team (mercifully, without the white racist overtones that, some years back, threatened to tarnish that particular flag). Nonetheless, on the whole we Brits don’t do the saluting-the-flag thing that some countries favour.

Does that make us an unpatriotic race? According to recent research, young people in England have never felt so un-English: they simply don’t feel a strong allegiance to their motherland. I can hear “Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells” (that mythical defender of traditional values) gasping in outrage: yet I’m not sure it’s vital for the nation’s youth to feel deeply, let alone parade, its Englishness. 

On the other hand, I do think it important that they develop a sense of community, of duty of care to those around them in their school, at home and in wider society. Indeed, among the young people I’ve worked with over decades, I’ve sensed an increasing sense of social responsibility and readiness to get off their backsides and do something.

‘Cake isn’t bribery’

And few things are more positive than cake as an effective fundraiser and an effective social lubricant - and it’s popular with me by dint of gluttony.

Cake is a good thing in many ways: and now it appears it may add value to learning. German research, due to be published in the journal Medical Education and already reported on by Tes, has found that “to be a good teacher you could plan inspiring lessons, work to understand the needs of each student and pass on a passion for your subject that lasts a lifetime. Or you could just bribe the class with biscuits.”

No, really. It continues. “Although students of all ages would reckon they are above succumbing to bribery, when they give a view on the effectiveness of their teachers, those who bring biscuits or chocolate invariably receive a higher evaluation.”

Chocolate, biscuits, cake. I suspect there’s deep psychology at work here.  The longer I’ve been a head, the more aware I’ve become of the effectiveness of cake in the classroom. It’s not bribery: nor about courting popularity with the kids. But, somehow, that discursive lesson on the causes of the First World War goes so much better (my historian colleagues assure me) when there’s cake.

Do the sharing and enjoyment of cake help to lower students’ inhibitions about voicing their theories? Is everyone a little more tolerant? Does cake simply generate a different kind of interaction in the formal classroom? I’m prepared to accept funding for research into the benefits of cake in the classroom (and don’t start on the obesity agenda!).

Try it yourself. Even if cake proves not to improve learning, it will make you feel better - stop you worrying if your pupils don’t feel awfully English.

They’re probably still nice people. Nice people who like cake. Like you.

Dr Bernard Trafford is a writer, educationalist and musician. He is a former headteacher of the Royal Grammar School, Newcastle, and past chair of HMC. He is currently interim headteacher of the Purcell School in Hertfordshire. He tweets @bernardtrafford