In anticipation of reading this book, I confess to assuming that I would need to work my way through a series of discussions concerning the benefits of e-teaching, e-learning, e-pedagogy and even possibly e-social justice. There is an apparent willingness by many to rather too readily reach the conclusion that by the simple introduction of digital technology into established teaching, learning and pedagogic practices everything automatically changes, and generally automatically changes for the better. The evidence of course should make us much more circumspect. Claims concerning the benefits to be expected from the introduction of digital technology into aspects of formal education typically need to be highly qualified.

There is of course a well-established concern with the ‘digital divide’, involving potentially significant differences in the degree to which children and young people from various backgrounds are able to access digital technologies and, increasingly most importantly, to access good broadband or other forms of Internet connectivity.

Throughout this short, highly readable and highly enjoyable book by Rosamund Sutherland there is perhaps surprisingly relatively little space devoted to digital technologies themselves. Sutherland, drawing upon her extensive research experience, focuses her work here very sharply upon her more personal experience. There are indeed two foci, the first being the histories of the last few generations of her family and the second her ongoing experiences as a member of the governing body of a relatively new academy school in South Bristol. Any reader unfamiliar with the social geography of Bristol rapidly comes to learn that North Bristol is prosperous and South Bristol is not. North Bristol has many good schools, and many fee-paying schools, while South Bristol does not. While the detailed accounts of the basic problem of a lack of social justice in education are treated in a very localised manner, the generality of the problem across England is also made plain. In essence, Sutherland's position is that a social injustice is done to young people if their education fails to provide them with access to ‘powerful knowledge’ and the best possible development of their ‘capabilities’. Drawing primarily upon the work of Young, Sen, Vygotsky, Olson and to a lesser degree Engeström, Sutherland weaves together an argument that, while not entirely original, is clearly and powerfully presented.

Teachers working in areas such as South Bristol, due to the existence of both their own presuppositions and the myriad high-stakes pressures that currently beset them, are generally seen to be working within the confines of a skills-based curriculum. The main criticism of skills-based approaches is that they may, and often do, fail to adequately develop knowledge. The more traditional subject- and discipline-based curriculum on offer in the ‘better’ schools in North Bristol is more likely to do just that, particularly those knowledge forms that Young has described as ‘powerful’. This basic difference is seen to lie behind the differences in the ability and willingness of young people from different backgrounds to gain access to University education and all that it offers.

So where is the ‘digital’ in all this? To a degree, it is presented as a part of the problem rather than the solution. ‘Powerful’ knowledge, particularly perhaps in subjects involving mathematics (an area of expertise for Sutherland), is not intuitive and is not likely to be ‘discovered’ by the student. Students need to engage with those people who already have this knowledge. Suggestions that the availability of ‘stuff’ on the internet obviates the need for induction into knowledge through social engagement with teachers are given short shrift; as too is the suggestion that digital technologies ought to primarily function by allowing children to explore their own interests. As some of my own work is involved with attempting to challenge the notion that digital technologies can improve education simply by making work more immediately interesting, this is a line of argument that I am inclined to follow.

Digital technologies are, of course, seen to have their power and use. LOGO programming, which was in use way back on BBC micro-computers, is cited as a clear example of ways in which young children can be guided into meaningful engagement with complex ideas. The notion of ‘person-plus’ ways of working, situations where the individual plus digital technology can do more than the individual alone, are promoted strongly. The limitations of much of current assessment systems, and the moves prompted by the recently departed Secretary of State for Education (Gove) to move even more sharply ‘back to basics’ are presented, along with positive examples of examinations that allow for, require and celebrate the use of digital technologies in the examination itself.

In essence then, this is a book with an ‘it's the curriculum stupid’ message that is far removed from the evangelical approach to the ‘transformative’ power of digital technologies in education that I feared it might have been. Digital technologies will not, Sutherland argues, make schools irrelevant, or even, in their current form, anachronistic. Learning is presented as an essentially social activity. The difficult aspects of school learning require students to interact with those who already have expertise, both in the subject and in the appropriate pedagogy. Sutherland introduces a well-known illustration often used by those who argue that schools have failed to transform themselves in line with technological changes. The illustration involves a comparison of the case of a nineteenth century surgeon transported into a modern operating theatre and being totally lost and dumbfounded by what they see. This, of course, is then compared to the nineteenth century teacher feeling broadly at home in a modern day school. In a sense, Sutherland argues that as schools are essentially social places, and as social interaction is basically unchanging, this is how things ought to be.

The social is also broadly endorsed in Sutherland's support for increased cooperation both within and between schools. In engaging with these parts of the text, we can see one of several instances where it is difficult to place this as a conservative or progressive work. To many digital technology evangelists, this will be seen as a deeply conservative work and in as much as it falls into their ‘zone of rejection’ is likely to be positioned as an endorsement of the present Coalition government's moves to restore disciplines, core subjects and traditional rigour. At the same time, there is a clear condemnation of the advocacy of ineffective forms of competition between schools, the absurdities of league-table game playing (one ‘radical ‘ suggestion is that league tables ought to based solely upon performance in maths and English) and the ending of the Labour government's Better Schools building programme.

It is, frankly, a long-time since I enjoyed reading an academic book as much as this one. Given a familiarity with the authors referred to above, the reader will be unlikely to find this transformative. For readers without such a familiarity, and I would hope that there are many such − typical schoolteachers for example – this will serve as a clear and powerful introduction to an important set of ideas. The warmth, passion and humanity in the writing are evident. I find myself sharing many of her life circumstances, being of approximately the same age and with a broadly similar background (although she is a second-generation graduate and I am a first). In Sutherland's closing pages, we are told of the very recent death of her mother, her hopes and fears for her grand-children and yet-to-be born great-grand-children and her plans for ‘the last third’ of her own life. I confess to being a little moist-eyed as I put the book down – sadly perhaps, a very rare occurrence with academic books, even those concerning social justice.