Inclusion is essential, and Richard Tice is wrong
Richard Tice, an MP and Deputy Leader of Reform UK, recently described children wearing ear defenders in school as “insane.” By doing so, he didn’t just expose a lack of understanding - he gave voice to a deeply harmful narrative. One that risks turning the clock back on years of hard-won progress for disabled children and their families.
Let’s be clear: inclusion isn’t about indulging children or lowering standards. It’s about recognising that not every brain works the same way - and making sure that all children, including those with special educational needs and disabilities, have the chance to thrive.
Ear defenders aren’t a symbol of excess. They’re a simple, often essential support for children who find noisy environments overwhelming - particularly those who are autistic or have sensory processing differences. I’ve seen firsthand the impact of reasonable adjustments. Something as basic as a pair of ear defenders can mean a child with a sensory condition is able to remain in a mainstream classroom. That’s not “insane.” That’s inclusion in action.
Tice claimed there’s a “crisis of overdiagnosis” in the SEND system. But this is the wrong debate. Labels aren’t the problem - they’re often the beginning of understanding. For many children and young people, a diagnosis offers clarity, confidence, and a way to explain how they experience the world. It can be the first step toward self-acceptance - not a burden.
The real question is: what happens next? Because a label without support is just a word. The real issue isn’t how many children are being diagnosed, but whether schools are equipped to respond to those diagnoses - with understanding, practical strategies, and the right culture. That’s where our focus should be.
Teachers are doing incredible work under immense pressure. But they need training, time, and trust to create genuinely inclusive classrooms. Inclusion doesn’t just happen because a child has a plan or a diagnosis. It happens when the adults in the room know how to adapt a lesson, de-escalate a situation, or recognise when a child is becoming overwhelmed. Inclusion is about professional skill, not just policy.
Tice also suggested that children without diagnoses are becoming “the normal minority,” as if recognising neurodivergence is somehow a threat to everyone else. That kind of language is divisive and dangerous. Inclusive education isn’t about elevating one group at the expense of another. It’s about creating learning environments where all children feel safe and valued.
A child who needs extra time in an exam or ear defenders in class isn’t taking anything away from their peers. They’re simply getting what they need to succeed. Fairness isn’t everyone getting the same thing - it’s everyone getting what they need.
And we mustn’t forget the moral and legal foundations of our SEND system. The Children and Families Act 2014 enshrines a presumption of inclusion in mainstream education. The SEND Code of Practice commits to removing barriers to participation. These aren’t just technical guidelines - they reflect the values of a society that believes every child matters.
Yes, the current system is under strain. Local authorities are grappling with rising costs. EHCP processes can be slow and exhausting. Families often feel like they’re battling for even the most basic support. But the solution isn’t to deny needs or roll back rights. It’s to fix what’s broken - by properly funding inclusion, investing in teacher training, and giving schools the tools to succeed.
When politicians reduce SEND to soundbites, they give cover to stigma. They make it harder for children to be themselves, and easier for others to mock or exclude them. That has real consequences - in the classroom, the playground, and far beyond.
I’ve seen what happens when inclusion is treated as optional. Children get sidelined. They lose confidence. They disengage. And the cost - to families, to education, to society — only grows. But I’ve also seen the opposite: when schools get it right, children thrive. Teachers feel empowered. Families feel heard. The whole community benefits.
This isn’t about political correctness or red tape. It’s about recognising every child’s humanity. Whatever their needs, every child deserves respect, belonging, and the chance to succeed.
So let me be clear: Richard Tice’s comments aren’t just wrong - they’re dangerous. They risk undermining children, dismissing families, and turning back progress. And they must be challenged.
Inclusion matters. And I’ll never stop defending it.
Tom Howard is a multi-award winning disability rights campaigner.
