Every time I see a question asking for data about our children, broken down on a school-by-school basis, I utter an expletive.

I’ve sworn loudly in the middle of a coffee house (sorry). I’ve had to leave the room after glancing at a Tynwald question paper while my children are debating the legality of Goldilocks’ actions. I’ve stomped my way along the school run, with a dark cloud over my head, after reading a headline.

Let me declare my interests. I know an awful lot of teachers - although I’ve hated league tables since before I met all of them, with the exception of my parents.

I have followed education in the island for more than a quarter of a century.

But my most important interest to declare is one I share with thousands of others. I’m a parent.

That interest has amplified my discomfort with league tables - please do not pretend that seeking data on individual school basis is asking for anything else - and their use either as a stick with which to beat teachers and children, or a data weapon to fire political pot-shots. I support the Department of Education, Sport and Culture’s opposition to league tables.

There are sound educational arguments against, referred to briefly in the accompanying article and, if you want to know more, you can download the DESC’s full reasons at its media centre on gov.im

Here, however, I am arguing as a parent.

Before I was a father, league tables made me angry because they served to divide schools and drive political agendas.

But I have discovered a new emotion this year, to add to that anger.

Because, especially with regard to the data being published about reception class children, it makes me feel sick.

And as for a question to Health Minister David Ashford that resulted in the breaking down of numbers of five-year-olds classed as ’overweight’ and ’obese’ - in a manner that makes it possible to identify individual children - that is shameful. You may not agree with those that argue that BMI was only supposed to be used to measure trends, rather than in small numbers.

You may not feel uncomfortable at headlines talking about how our four and five-year-olds are ’fatter’.

But it really should bother you to realise how easy it would be for someone to know that your child fell into one of those categories.

There is a valid debate about health and fitness among our children, and room for publication of island-wide trends.

But creating a scenario where it is easy to single out individuals as young as four is just plain wrong.

Whether it be educational attainment or weight measurements, those who argue that league tables and finger-pointing are not the intended consequences of a school-by-school breakdowns need to step into the real world.

With regard to GLD and year six attainment data, I say this:

I’ve sat in countless parents’ evenings. Each time I’m shown points on a scale. What happens afterwards is I ask if my children are where they want to be, where they ought to be and where we can help.

Figures and numbers blur. Teachers explaining how my children do well at this and need support on that does not.

Talking to my children, reading their work books and listening to accounts of their day informs me better than a wealth of data.

As a freelancer I can tailor my work to allow good contact with the school. I’m lucky.

I’ll come to how I think that should be available to others shortly.

It angers me that some parents are being conned into thinking a set of data based on narrow performance criteria is a valid guide to the true worth of their school.

I issue a plea to our elected representatives - and if they can’t do it, then our MLCs - to ask some other questions that might serve children, schools and parents better.

How about asking whether the government would consider introducing legislation that allows a parent mandatory leave to attend their child’s school for a certain number of hours each year?

They will learn much more about what the school is doing for their child if they have the chance to talk to their teacher, attend a sports day, turn up for a celebration assembly or just look around.

The walls of a classroom will tell you much more about what the children are doing than a league table.

How about asking whether there is any evidence that children progress - educationally or otherwise - in a linear fashion, or whether there are pauses and accelerations in that progress?

Or what can be done to reduce stress placed on pupils and teachers by the obsession with data?

What about whether there has been a genuinely independent discussion with teachers about if they feel the amount of data they are required to collect these days has impinged on their classroom time and whether they believe the way in which that data is used has a positive effect? And, for the parents who like league tables and are still convinced of their educational value, I’ll just leave something else to ponder.

Ask yourself if you know how many children are in a particular year in your children’s school. Then consider how easy it is for you - and anyone else - to work out how many per cent one child equates to.

That’s right, when school percentages are published, if your child is the one out of 10 who didn’t meet the narrow criteria to tick a certain box, or weighs a little more than the rest, other people will know.

If that still leaves you with a warm feeling inside, fair enough. Just don’t drag my children into it.