THERE are periodic skirmishes between vocational idealism and professional pragmatism, and this seems to be particularly true at present.

A sense of vocation has never lost its romantic appeal — we still want to affirm the selfless motivation of those who work for relatively modest reward, especially in the caring occupations — but at the moment the professional imperative is driving political policies and, to a lesser extent, the public mood.

Reasons are not hard to find. In a rights-based culture, a litigious and risk-averse atmosphere prevails. Protecting one’s back to avoid charges of professional incompetence stifle the individual flair and personalised style that is usually associated with vocation.

This dynamic is clearly in evidence in relation to teachers, who are increasingly subject to scrutiny and continuous assessment. The ex­ponential increase in government directives, whether by legislation or regulation, has been all too apparent; and guid­ance from a myriad of inset advisers and professional consultants has reached epic proportions. Being able to tick boxes on forms has become an essential requirement of the profession.

BUT an even more sinister mani­festation of this trend towards professionalism has been in evidence lately. Up until now, although those pursuing a vocation have not necessarily been offered many ma­terial rewards, they have at least been trusted to make judgements and act on them in the conduct of their day-to-day activities. Trust is a precious commodity, and to be trusted may well compensate for not receiving other more tangible rewards.

Surely this is part of what we mean when we distinguish between a profession and a vocation: we honour the self-denying motivation of the carer called to teaching, nursing, or social work by trusting them to know what is right and to do what is best.

Of course, things go wrong from time to time, and public opinion as mobilised by the mass media is not slow to sensationalise such failings when they occur. But our romantic attachment to trust as a vital com­ponent in our social contract with those called to care is not to be dismissed lightly.

Yet that is now what is happening. A combination of fear, form-filling, and political interference is under­mining trust in teachers and, as importantly, the teachers’ own sense of being trusted.

Let us be clear: there is no excuse for incompetence, and no one should be subject to inappropriate treatment at the hands of a nurse, teacher, or social worker simply because that person has a sense of vocation.

But a line is crossed when ticking boxes to establish professional competence begins to undermine trust in the individual’s capacity and willingness to think imaginatively.

Also, let us be clear that the concept of vocation should not be limited to a few carefully defined occupations. There is a clear sense in which everyone is called to whatever it is they are or do.

But the very fact that we continue to tolerate significant pay differentials between those in vocations and those engaged in, for example, financial and industrial occupations, suggests that the notion of vocation, however ro­mantically conceived, continues to occupy a distinctive place in our understanding of labour and how it should be rewarded.

Trust must feature in the calculation of such rewards, and it is trust that is currently being denied to those whose sense of vocation is predicated on being valued as trustworthy.

I HAVE not yet mentioned the clergy, who are in the forefront of those tra­ditionally seen as fulfilling a vocation, but whose evolution into a clerical pro­fession Anthony Russell traced many years ago. We need to be on the watch lest trends relating to teachers and medical practitioners begin to ahve an impact on ordained ministers as well.

Clearly, the new terms and conditions of service fall well short of the ludicrously bureaucratic regulatory regimes to which teachers are now subject; but the threat to trust is very real, and must be resisted if our rich theology of vocation is not to be undermined by a secular obsession with conformism and centralised control.