By contrast, Ordinary School, with its Bunyanesque cast of descriptively named characters — teachers Mr Hadenough, Ms Alternative, Mr Cajole; students Seething, Furious and Deranged — will keep its "good" ranking as long as 100 per cent of the students get at least one GCSE at grades A* to C. So in Ordinary, grades B, A and A* are not even discussed: as far as the children are aware, there is nothing higher to aim for than a C. Because a single solitary C per child, while of negligible use to the child, will get the school into the same category as one where half the year group has nothing but A*s, As and Bs. 

This school was described by Ofsted as a "good school with some outstanding features", according to Katharine Birbalsingh. Or was it? Birbalsingh's problem is that, to bring together experiences which make her point, without identifying individuals, she fictionalised the school. For this literary device, she has been criticised. She talked about her beliefs at the 2010 Conservative Party Conference. For this, she lost her job. 

Since then the persecution of Birbalsingh has gained frightening momentum. Former Blair aide Fiona Millar and teacher-turned-author Francis Gilbert have joined the hue and cry (Observer, February 27). Both are presumably (Millar is married to Alastair Campbell and Gilbert to the literary editor of The Times) well-off enough to live in affluent areas if they so choose. And so they think the local comprehensive system is just fine, thank you very much. 

The latest swipe was a nasty little article in the Guardian (March 5) by a "former colleague" calling himself simply "Aladin" who seemed bothered that Birbalsingh — who now finds herself excluded from the profession in which she excelled for years — has also published a saucy online novel about a mixed-race woman looking for love in London. She used a pseudonym, Katherine Bing. Why the hell should she not?