Dozens of times in recent weeks, people have asked what I expect will happen to Edison Schools, formerly known as the Edison Project, considering the parlous state of the company's stock price, other signs of financial woe, the gnarly situation in Philadelphia, and the recent separation of Edison from one of its first schools (Boston's Renaissance charter school).
No doubt I get asked this because I was once part of Edison's "core team" and helped develop its school design. People suppose that I must have inside knowledge or a particularly clear crystal ball. Neither is true. And I've had no financial entanglement with Edison for a couple of years. I'm just another nosy, puzzled observer. But it's worth pausing to ask what to make of Edison at this juncture, why it seems to be in trouble and what would be the implications of an Edison collapse.
Seven points seem especially important.
First, when properly implemented, Edison's basic school design works well to educate children, especially disadvantaged youngsters. No single feature is revolutionary-not the longer day and year, not the academic standards, not the specific reading and math programs, not the multi-year "team" approach to teacher-student relations, not even the intensive technology-but nobody else has stitched all these elements together in so promising a way.
Second, neither this nor any other whole-school design is foolproof. Much can go wrong in even the best-intentioned implementation effort. Bad personnel decisions lead to principals or teachers who don't grasp (or like) the design, lack essential skills, have conflicting loyalties, don't possess the requisite drive, etc. The sponsoring body-be it a charter board or school system-may have a leadership change, get cold feet, or be rattled by politics. The building can be faulty or unready. The state's reimbursement system can leave the school under-financed, etc.
Third, in its eagerness to grow its business and revenues, Edison has agreed to compromises in many places that weaken either the school design (such as forfeiting the longer day or year) or the company's ability to staff it with people who will be effective in carrying it out. Personnel compromises are the worst: agreeing, for example, to keep the current staff of a school that Edison is taking over. (It looks like this is in the cards in Philadelphia.) Another compromise in pursuit of fiscal viability is to accept new children into the upper grades of a school rather than starting only with, say, youngsters in K-2 or K-3 and "growing" them the Edison way. As other school founders have learned to their peril, it's damnably hard to succeed with a new 7th or 8th grader who has failed badly in previous schools, is way behind grade level, and has already developed an "attitude" about school. Yet for economic reasons, education management organizations (EMO's) such as Edison-and plenty of garden-variety non-profit charter schools-have agreed to take these older students so as to build enough enrollment fast enough to generate the revenue they need to operate at all.
Fourth, many such compromises are dictated by labor relations and the politics that accompany them. Never forget that the teacher unions HATE Edison and the other EMO's and are doing their best to subvert and bankrupt all such ventures.(There are rare and limited exceptions, such as Dade County, Florida.) They are also looking to safeguard their members' jobs. The upshot is that the unions lay down conditions before a school district (such as Philadelphia or New York) can engage Edison at all, and these conditions may prove fatal both to a school's instructional effectiveness and to the profitability of its parent firm. Retaining highly-paid but poorly performing teachers is usually the big challenge. In New York City, on the other hand, the unions and their allies maneuvered the board of education into holding a neighborhood referendum on Edison. It was stacked against Edison and, indeed, that firm lost its bid to run half a dozen public schools in the Big Apple.
Fifth, the hundred-plus public schools that Edison now operates-making it one of the nation's biggest (and certainly farthest-flung) school "systems"-are important to dozens of communities and tens of thousands of children and families. Edison can no longer be viewed simply as a brash start-up firm of interest to Wall Street and the teacher unions. It is also responsible for-as an example-half the charter-school students in Dayton, Ohio (where Edison runs two of a dozen charters but these are by far the largest). If Edison collapsed, it would be a profound blow to those kids and families, to the charter movement, and to the idea that education reform can be advanced by starting new schools run by someone other than "the system."
Sixth, many assert that "mom and pop" charters are doomed due to their small scale, lack of business acumen, and meager capital resources. Such observers generally contend that "The future of the charter movement rests with large national operators like Edison." I don't know whether that's so; I still have high hopes for the better put together of the "mom and pop" schools (so long as they're not reregulated into oblivion or starved of resources). But Edison's demise would be a terrible setback for those who believe that it's companies like this that will determine the future of the charter-school endeavor itself. Alternatively, it might turn out to be a learning experience for other EMO's, driving home the lesson that too many compromises are as harmful to a firm's viability as a stubborn, unbending stance toward community (and political) realities.
Seventh, the hypocrisy just won't quit regarding the role of "for-profit" enterprises in K-12 education. It's Edison's desire for profits that most enrages the teacher unions and others in the public-school establishment. Never mind that, after a decade of trying, Edison hasn't yet made a profit. Never mind that profitability in the EMO world will likely never be great (except for those who luck out in the stock market), probably more like a classic "public utility" margin than the eye-popping returns that venture capitalists seek. This is true both for political reasons and for reasons of school economics. But what's wrong with making money by delivering a superior product or delivering the same product more efficiently? Do we object to IBM and Apple profiting from the computers they sell to schools? To dividends for shareholders of the catering firms that operate school cafeterias, the bus companies that carry children to and fro, the cleaning firms that tidy up the school after hours, or the textbook and testing companies that rule the curriculum? Do we object to individual teachers profiting by getting paid salaries that exceed their living costs? As for "non-profit" organizations, beloved as they are by ideologues in education (and other fields), many of them generate hefty annual surpluses, often AFTER paying handsome salaries, juicy bonuses and generous benefits to their key people. The teacher unions are themselves examples of such enterprises. Their surpluses aren't called "profits" but I fail to see any moral distinction. Indeed, the biggest difference is that "non-profits" pay no taxes on their surpluses while profit-making firms do. Which is the better citizen?
I doubt that Edison will collapse. Chris Whittle is one of the most astute, creative and tireless people I've ever met, and his key associates are plenty savvy, too. They've made their share of mistakes but I suspect they'll live to fight another day. I hope so. Not just because of my own fond memories and residual loyalty. But because so many kids, and more than a little of the future of the charter and school-choice movements, are enmeshed with Edison's prospects. Of course that's also why its many foes will do their utmost to kill it off-and why they so look forward to dancing on its grave.
