Engraved on the heart, or at least the election manifesto, of every Scottish politician, are the words that established the country’s state-run education system in 1872: “It cannot be too often repeated, that the theory of our school system [is] to supply every member of the community with the means of obtaining for our children, not only the elements of education, but such instructions as would fit them to pass to the burgh school, and thence to the University, or directly to the University from the parish school.”

It was an incredibly ambitious aim in a largely agricultural country, where remote places had no access to teaching of any kind. But it succeeded. Education became the jewel in the crown of Scots identity for more than a century. By the end of the 19th century, it was accessible to all, widely admired, and had succeeded in establishing almost universal literacy. In the grammar schools, Latin and Greek were taught. And under the harsh gaze of the “dominie”, the old-style disciplinarians who ran local schools, all pupils were drilled to read and write from the age of 5.

Something else came with the system, however, and that was a growing complacency. For all the reports and reforms that have shaken up Scottish teaching since those days — most notably the comprehensive system, introduced in the mid-1960s — there has been a reluctance to interfere with the centrally run approach to education, and the local authorities who administer it. Teachers defend it, ministers stake their reputations on it, even parents are behind it, for all that so many seek alternative places for their children at Catholic schools.

When, therefore, this week, one council — East Lothian — announced that it was considering plans to change the way its schools are managed, by introducing a trust system that would give head teachers more autonomy over their own budgets, and more independence in developing their schools, there was a palpable air of shock. The idea is that trusts, set up and funded by the local authority, would be given the power to spend money as they saw fit, pursuing individual goals for their schools and giving head teachers far greater control over their approach to the curriculum.

The plan was immediately condemned by unions and politicians. Iain Gray, the Labour leader, whose party has presided over the decline of the education system for the past 30 years, said that there was no demand for trust schools, no need for them and that most people wanted local authorities to be responsible for delivering education.

What is so blinkered about this approach is that it defies the experience of other countries with small populations. In Denmark, Finland, and more recently, the Irish Republic imaginative and radical approaches have transformed standards and greatly improved exam results.

In England, reforms introduced under Tony Blair have begun to open a serious gulf between the two systems north and south of the Border. Trust schools, city academies and the encouragement of parental choice have begun an unstoppable process in the direction of flexibility, and although there is no lack of criticism as parents struggle to get their children into better schools, results suggest that Scotland is beginning to be left behind, and that standards in literacy, numeracy, exam results and the performance levels required by industry and universities, have “flatlined.”

This year John McLaren, of the Centre for Public Policy for Regions, published a report on educational attainment since devolution. This was the man who helped Donald Dewar to draw up the Scotland Act, and no on can can accuse him of failing to understand the Scottish system.

He pointed out that while annual Scottish spending per pupil has risen in the past ten years from £2,092 a head to £4,638 for primary education and from £3,194 to £6,326 for secondary, the proportion of those gaining five good grades at the end of compulsory education (S4) has fallen from 47 per cent to 46 per cent. Data obtained by the think tank Reform Scotland shows that pupils in England, who lagged behind Scotland in 1998, are now ahead, with the number achieving equivalent grades rising from 36 per cent to 48 per cent. In addition, the latest Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (Timss) found English pupils scoring significantly higher than Scots and the gap has widened between the survey years of 1995 and 2007. In Scotland the maths score for 14-year-olds fell from 493 to 487 and the science rating fell from 501 to 496 while in England it rose from 498 to 513 and from 533 to 542 respectively.

Looking at the percentage of pupils who pass five or more GCSEs — or their equivalents — Scotland was the top performer in the UK at the turn of the century. By 2007 it had fallen to third place — the only one of the home nations where performance had actually gone backwards. Mr McLaren concluded: “The most worrying aspect of this report is the [post-devolution] combination of increasing, and relatively high, spending levels on school education in Scotland, alongside relatively flat or declining attainment levels.”

No one can claim that one council exploring an alternative to the present system is going to revolutionise standards. But the significance of the East Lothian proposal is that it allows, at last, a proper debate to take place, one that poses the central question: do we carry on with an education system that is failing to deliver the outcomes that it promises, or can we at the very least examine the alternatives?

David Berry, the SNP leader on the council, argues precisely this, and his argument deserves to be heard. Instead of managing decline, he wants to break free of it. There is evidence that some, at least, in the present SNP administration, are beginning to question the age-old dogma that imprisons educational thinking, and to suggest that removing schools from local authority control, may be one way of introducing the competition and pride in achievement that helps to drive up standards.

Everyone knows that good schools depend on inspirational leadership at the top, but what matters just as much is allowing that leadership, and the parents and children who benefit from it, to be given the freedom to decide what is best for their school. Just because the policy bears the dread tag “Made in England” is not an argument for preventing its introduction.

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