Those for whom it matters most might not get the next part: literacy in Scotland is not as it should be.

A school curriculum advertised as "for excellence" has not given our children what they deserve. There are signs, clear signs, of a failure to improve.

In this country, what follows traditionally from such a statement is a ritual, mostly beside the point. Some of the debate, so called, has an obvious political tinge. Do you want "old-fashioned teaching", or do you despise that as "authoritarian"? Do you see a lack of rigour, or a lack of resources? In either event, pause.

According to the Scottish Survey of Literacy and Numeracy, the "proportion of pupils performing well or very well in reading in 2012 and 2014 by stage" did not go up in those years. In fact, in primary four there was a five per cent decline; in second year at secondary a four per cent drop. And, as ever, "pupils in the least deprived category had higher performance".

The Curriculum for Excellence was supposed to change this. It was intended to give Scotland's children a taste of the miracle - by all rankings - that had made Finland the object of envy. Now a survey, hotly-contested, says Finns have begun to lag precisely because of the methods on which Scottish reforms were founded.

True? A Scotland in which "just" 88 per cent of children - no gender difference - can cope with a half-complicated sentence is not exactly a tragedy. A two per cent drop, or any other drop, might invite questions about survey methods. But our Government is not shouting in delight at these results, and nor should it.

The performance in "scripts", in writing, says something alarming is going on. A fall from 64 per cent to 55 per cent in S2 between 2012 and 2014 is no blip. If nothing else, it would say - unless numeracy is also an issue - that 45 per cent of our children are not too sure, at puberty, about how words are supposed to look. Or as they might say, with luck: epicfail.

Those who designed Curriculum for Excellence took the best international model available. Led by Michael Russell, then Education Secretary, reformers confronted sceptics, hesitant teachers not least, and forced through changes that were supposed to give our children Finnish wings. But it is not happening. Numeracy numbers - we can count them - are still more discouraging.

A return to stern instruction on the importance of the dangling participle is likely to miss the point. Those who argue for the three Rs might try defining what those mean today. Mr Russell and his colleagues could meanwhile assert that reforms have yet to take root. Still: just 55 per cent of our children can manage those "scripts"? That is scarce an (antique) pass mark.

In this, international Pisa rankings deserve second thoughts. It matters less how Scotland fares in those "leagues" than whether those who lead children in the world believe we are serving the next generation. The evidence says they are too hazy, too often, with certain words and counting poorly.

In simple words: not good enough. If only 52 per cent in S2 cope well with "listening and talking", we might have to talk about it.