The latest advice from this government does include the point that, when dealing with the issue, "Some schools are ... moving too quickly to exclude pupils more or less automatically, and are failing to address the needs of those involved."

The previous government's advice was similar: "The fact that certain behaviour could constitute a violation of the criminal law should not, in itself, be taken as automatically leading to the exclusion of a pupil."

Both governments, then, believe a blanket policy of excluding any pupil caught with drugs, whatever the circumstances, might not be the best approach.

Is that soft ? Many will believe it is common sense.

Reasonable

Permanent exclusion is an extremely serious punishment. In many cases it will damage a child's educational prospects. It may not be reasonable to exclude a child who is caught taking a drag of their friend's joint.

If it is a first offence, inspired by a childish desire to experiment, it may seem particularly harsh to wipe the child off the school role.

On the other hand, it can be argued that a policy of so-called "zero tolerance" is the only defensible stance when it comes to dealing with children and illegal drugs.

Even if the offence is relatively minor, even if it is the first time, the damaging potential of taking drugs means there is no room for forgiving strategies. The message must be clear and unambiguous: "If you have any involvement with illegal drugs, you can say goodbye to this school."

Angry reaction

That debate was once again sparked by Estelle Morris's advice to schools. Believing that the education minister was telling schools they should not exclude children caught with drugs (that was not her intended message), the Secondary Heads Association reacted angrily. Its spokesman argued that heads have the right to run schools as drug free zones.

The discussion focused on exploring the best way to prevent children getting into dangerous drugs, but the interpretation and misinterpretation of what Estelle Morris had said raises another major problem as well.

Heads and teachers were particularly annoyed by the idea that an education minister should be telling them who ought to be expelled and under what circumstances. They were adamant that individual heads have the right to make their own decisions about what triggers an exclusion.

The fact is, they do. There is no national framework for what constitutes an 'excludable offence'. In one school it might be assaulting a teacher, in another, bad language might prompt the end of a child's career in that school. It is up to the headteacher and the school governors.

Difficult goal

To suggest that there ought to be a centrally agreed list of 'excludable offences' seems both shocking and sensible: sensible, because, given the seriousness of excluding a child, it does not seem completely fair that that decision lies with one small group; shocking, because it seems reasonable to leave individual schools to run a discipline policy which echoes that school's ethos, the catchment area, and the expectations of local parents.

The latest government figures show that 12, 700 pupils were excluded from our schools in one year. The prime minister's social exclusion unit has said that number should be reduced by a third by the year 2002.

However the drugs issue proves how difficult this will be to achieve. As soon as heads believed they were under pressure to exclude fewer pupils, that that particular power domain was being threatened, they hit the airwaves with messages of indignant outrage, some of them with persuasive arguments.

Every head might believe we ought, as a nation, to reduce the number of pupils expelled each year, but ask an individual school not to exclude an individual child - well, that's a different matter.