Judging lessons

in myriad forms. One learns from all sorts of sources. My definition of a teacher in context with judging is someone who has actively provided direct one-on-one personal instruction, either in-person or electronically, within the last 12 months, includes direct correspondence and the trading of recordings.

This is reasonable and workable. A one-time workshop of one-to-many instruction to me does not constitute someone being your teacher. One-on-one instruction, coaching and guidance does.

I recognize that there are those who in their heart of hearts have no problem with teachers judging students. They swear on Angus MacKay’s manuscript that they are unbiased. I am interested in how they reconcile it with themselves. By all means, you are invited and encouraged to express your view and make your case in comments or to me directly. If I’m missing something, I am all ears. I would be happy to change my mind again on the matter if you have a convincing reason why more than 80% of those interested who are against teachers judging pupils are wrong. About 20% of pipers and drummers think it’s okay, so presumably they have reasons. Let’s hear them.

I play golf. There is much honour in the game of golf, and self-governing is crucial to the code of honour that is central to the game. As a golfer, you’re often by yourself when hitting a shot. If you’re in a bunker and ground the sand with your club or strike the ball twice, the code of honour in golf, even for hack amateurs like me, dictates that you call yourself on your breach of the rules. If you’re seen by fellow golfers as breaking that honour code – even once – by not calling a penalty on yourself, it is very difficult to restore your reputation. There are many examples of pro golfers calling themselves out in major championships, adding a crucial stroke or two to their score, even denying themselves a tournament.

Conversely, there are pro golfers who don’t police themselves, and then TV cameras capture them in breach of a rule. They are then seen in a different light by all who care. Their reputation is damaged. Honour is a huge part of that game.

Granted, golf is very different, but the principles are comparable. There is honour in piping and drumming. Or there should be. It’s music. Those who are seen to skirt the rules or policies (for example, wheedling their way into a better draw, taking too long to tune, playing with one tenor drone, submitting a tune you don’t know . . .) are in my experience often seen in a different light. The word gets around, and it’s almost impossible for them to shake the label.

And yet competitors and teacher-judges somehow skirt the policies and requests to declare their interests. Competition organizers often will not know better, and teachers will be assigned events that a pupil is in. By the time the judges and draw are made public, it can be too late to adjust, and competitors and others dare not rock the boat and complain. So the practice persists.

The honour code is broken.

If you are a teacher who judges, on day one you might make it clear to your new student that you will never judge them in competition. Tell them that they are a student only to learn and, if they compete, with the aim of winning prizes with you, not from you. If your prospective student balks, well, they’ve picked you for the wrong reason and they would not have been a good student anyway.

Besides, this lesson in ethics is a great way to start a teacher-student relationship. Impress upon the piper that prizes won should come honestly, not only in his or her eyes, but in the eyes of fellow competitors. You should earn awards through nothing less than good playing, and it should be seen as such by your peers. Teach them that such conduct is a sacred part of the new piping tradition.

Tell them that our competitions are – or should be – judged on merit, not by a kangaroo court.

Seumas MacNeill famously said in print that prizes won by students of judges are not worth a pail of spit. I wouldn’t go that far, and I wonder if Seumas ever was judged by and received prizes from his teacher and uncle (a conflict double-whammy), Blind Archie MacNeill. Seumas wasn’t the most popular guy, in part because he had such a strong sense of ethics and wanted to reform many aspects of piping that didn’t sit well with him, such as the teacher-judge tradition. He often paid the price for his commitment to being a “born reformer.”

The lists of Gold Medal and Clasp and every-other-prize-there-is winners over the 150-odd years are frequented with pipers who were judged by teachers. Many of those winners went on to become judges themselves, and, lamentably, some might have carried on that learned tradition and awarded prizes to their students, who then awarded prizes . . .