The Education Impact Network

In education, the phrase ‘school improvement’ is tossed around frequently. It appears in policy documents, staff meetings, and headlines, often as a given: an unquestionable goal that every educator and leader should chase. But what does it actually mean? How do we measure it, where does this idea come from, and—crucially—what value does it hold for an organisation?

As someone who has worked in schools where the system itself failed students, I’ve seen how ‘improvement’ can both serve and obscure the real needs of a community. Unpacking its meaning is essential.

The Measurement Problem

At its core, ‘school improvement’ implies progress. But progress toward what? Traditionally, the metrics we lean on are standardised:

• Exam results

• Attendance rates

• Behaviour incidents

• Progress scores

These measures are convenient and quantifiable, but they can be misleading. Improvement framed this way assumes success can be distilled into neat data points. For example, improved exam outcomes may suggest students are learning better—but do higher grades always reflect richer understanding or genuine curiosity? Attendance might rise, but is it because students feel engaged or because they are compelled to comply?

The tools we use to measure improvement often serve external systems more than the children in front of us. They align schools to league tables and inspection criteria, which reward conformity over innovation. When improvement is measured in this narrow way, we risk chasing numbers rather than purpose.

The Origin of ‘Improvement’

Our obsession with school improvement comes from a mix of influences:

• Accountability Systems: Over decades, governments have built frameworks that demand measurable progress. Schools are scrutinised, ranked, and judged on their performance data. Improvement becomes less about the complex art of education and more about survival.

• Corporate Thinking: Borrowing heavily from business, schools are expected to operate like efficient organisations. Growth, performance, and outcomes dominate the discourse, often sidelining the human experience of learning.

• Public Expectations: Schools do not exist in a vacuum. Parents, politicians, and society have their own benchmarks for what schools should deliver—be it employability, equity, or social mobility. These pressures define improvement as achieving outcomes that can be easily seen and reported.

The result? ‘Improvement’ often feels imposed rather than self-defined. Schools are under pressure to ‘get better,’ but better at what, and for whose benefit?

The Value of Real Improvement to an Organisation

When we strip away external pressures, school improvement should be about becoming a better place for students to learn and grow. That sounds obvious, but it requires deeper thinking about organisational purpose.

1. Improvement as Alignment to Purpose

For any school, its purpose is not simply to produce high exam scores but to prepare young people for life in its fullness. Schools should cultivate knowledge, resilience, creativity, and a sense of belonging. True improvement happens when every decision—curriculum, culture, teaching—is aligned to this deeper purpose.

2. Improvement as Reflection of Values

What do we value as a school? Collaboration over competition? Critical thinking over memorisation? Compassion over compliance? Improvement means embedding these values into the daily life of the organisation so they shape not only what we measure but how we behave.

3. Improvement as Sustainable Change

Organisational improvement is not a quick fix; it’s about building systems, practices, and relationships that endure. It’s empowering teachers to innovate, supporting students to thrive, and creating an environment where people flourish long after leadership priorities shift.

4. Improvement as Liberation

Finally, improvement should free students and staff from the constraints of a broken system. It means removing barriers to success, dismantling inequities, and refusing to let external pressures dictate our vision of education. It is about challenging the very assumptions that force schools into a cycle of superficial ‘progress.’

A Better Conversation About Improvement

So how do we shift the conversation? We start by redefining improvement on our own terms. We ask:

• Who decides what improvement looks like in our school?

• Does this improvement serve our students, or does it serve someone else’s agenda?

• Are we measuring what matters, or what’s easy to measure?

• Do our actions reflect our values, or are we being driven by external pressures?

Real improvement happens when schools take ownership of their purpose and align their work to it with integrity. It’s not about chasing targets; it’s about creating meaningful change that transforms lives.

In the end, school improvement isn’t a product—it’s a process. A journey toward becoming a better version of ourselves as educators, as institutions, and as communities. It’s messy, complex, and human. If we’re measuring it only by numbers, we’re missing the point.

The value of school improvement lies in the impact it has on the lives we serve. And that’s something no league table can ever capture.

What does school improvement mean to you? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

The role of a headteacher today bears little resemblance to what it was ten, or even five, years ago. While education has always demanded strong leadership, resilience, and adaptability, the modern requirements placed on headteachers are transforming at a pace that few could have predicted.

A Shifting Landscape

Ten years ago, headteachers were tasked primarily with leading teaching and learning. School budgets, while never generous, were typically predictable. Curriculum delivery, staffing structures, and student outcomes were largely the focus, with a steady hand on management and improvement processes being sufficient to drive progress. The job was demanding, but it was recognisable.

Fast-forward to today, and headteachers are expected to act as CEOs, business strategists, PR managers, fundraisers, mental health advocates, and crisis managers—all while remaining the face of education in their communities. The role has expanded far beyond leading pedagogy and performance.

• Income Generation: Shrinking budgets have forced schools to behave like businesses. Leaders are expected to find innovative ways to generate income: renting facilities, forming commercial partnerships, or seeking donations. Success no longer rests on outcomes alone but on whether the school can balance its books and remain sustainable.

• Rapid Change Management: In an era of constant educational policy shifts, economic instability, and societal challenges, headteachers are expected to pivot on a sixpence. Whether responding to unexpected funding cuts, curriculum reforms, or changes in inspection frameworks, agility is non-negotiable. Schools now need leaders who can manage rapid, disruptive change without losing momentum or focus.

• Resilience Under Pressure: Burnout among school leaders is at an all-time high. Headteachers face unprecedented pressure from governing bodies, parents, inspectors, and policymakers. The need for unwavering resilience has never been greater, and those who lack it risk being overwhelmed.

The Problem with the “Experienced” Headteacher Model

Many headteachers today were appointed based on success in the classroom or pastoral leadership roles from earlier in their careers. Ten years ago, a great PE teacher, science lead, or pastoral champion could climb into senior leadership and grow into headship without needing specialist leadership skills or experience. In the current environment, this pathway no longer equips leaders to cope with the breadth and complexity of the role.

An “experienced” headteacher who trained for leadership under the conditions of a decade ago may now find themselves out of their depth. This isn’t a failing of the individual; it’s a reflection of a system that has shifted without fully preparing its leaders.

Skills Required in 2024

Headteachers today need a very different skill set:

1. Financial Acumen: Understanding budgets, forecasting, and income generation are now essential. Schools need leaders who can think like CFOs and trustees, making tough financial decisions without compromising the quality of education.

2. Change Leadership: Schools are dynamic, high-pressure environments that require leaders to implement change quickly and decisively. The days of slow, incremental change have been replaced by the need for transformational leadership.

3. Mental Health Awareness: Schools are dealing with a crisis in student and staff mental health, and leaders must foster cultures of care, inclusion, and well-being without compromising standards.

4. Flexibility and Adaptability: The headteacher of today must move seamlessly between long-term strategic planning and the daily fire-fighting that school leadership entails.

5. Vision and Innovation: Schools cannot stand still. Leaders must find ways to innovate in teaching, technology, and business management to keep pace with societal and educational shifts.

Burnout: The Inevitable Outcome of a Misaligned System

Much of the burnout in school leadership comes from appointing leaders who are no longer equipped for the modern role. Schools that appoint senior leaders based on their past success in the classroom—rather than on their leadership acumen—risk setting those leaders up to fail. Leadership in schools is a specialist skill, and it requires a very different set of competencies than those needed to be an exceptional teacher.

The belief that “good teachers make good leaders” is outdated and dangerous. While pedagogical expertise is vital, it’s no longer enough. Schools need leaders with the right mix of strategy, resilience, and flexibility to thrive under relentless pressure.

A New Approach to School Leadership

To meet the challenges of the modern education landscape, we need to rethink how we identify, develop, and support headteachers.

• Specialist Training: Aspiring leaders must be given targeted training in financial planning, change management, and resilience, ensuring they are equipped for the demands of headship.

• Early Leadership Pipelines: Schools must identify leadership potential early and nurture individuals with the right mix of skills and aptitude, not just teaching ability.

• Ongoing Support: Experienced leaders need ongoing professional development and well-being support to ensure they can adapt to changing demands without burning out.

Conclusion

Headship has become a role in perpetual evolution, and the days of steady, predictable leadership are long gone. Resilience, agility, and innovation are now the hallmarks of successful school leaders. If we want to stop the revolving door of burnout and resignation, we must acknowledge that the leadership model of a decade ago is no longer fit for purpose. Schools need specialist leaders, not just excellent teachers with time served.

The question is no longer who can manage the job as it was, but who can lead schools into what they must become?

The leaders who thrive in 2024 are not simply “experienced”—they are adaptable, strategic, and unflinching in their commitment to meet the moment. It’s time we appointed and developed leaders who are ready for the job as it is, not as it used to be.

Hannah Carter

When recruiting for a role that attracts both internal and external candidates, organisations often face a dilemma: balancing fairness with the natural advantages internal candidates possess. While transparency is important, there is no benefit in running an external process when a strong and appointable internal candidate already exists. Companies should be proud to develop and promote their own people and should not feel pressured to create an external ‘show’ for the sake of appearances.

The Strength of Internal Progression

Promoting internal talent is something to be celebrated. It demonstrates that an organisation values its people, invests in their development, and rewards loyalty and hard work. For employees, it signals that career progression is not only possible but actively encouraged. Most people would far rather work for an organisation that supports its own staff than one that places a greater emphasis on appearing ‘transparent’ than on actually being so.

The problem arises when organisations feel obliged to create a full external recruitment process simply to appear fair and open. This can result in a disingenuous exercise, wasting the time and effort of external candidates who were never realistically in contention. Worse still, these candidates often receive unhelpful feedback that highlights a lack of internal knowledge—something they could never have reasonably acquired.

The Built-in Advantage of Internal Candidates

Internal candidates naturally hold advantages in recruitment processes:

1. Institutional Knowledge: They understand the organisation’s systems, culture, and challenges in a way external candidates cannot.

2. Access to Information: They often have insight into ongoing projects, strategies, and priorities that are not publicly available.

3. Established Reputation: Their work and relationships within the organisation mean their strengths are already known.

If recruitment tasks are designed in a way that relies on this internal knowledge, the process becomes fundamentally unfair. For example, tasks that require detailed solutions to current organisational issues or assessments tied to internal data leave external candidates at an inevitable disadvantage.

Avoiding Pointless Processes

Recruitment should serve a clear purpose: to find the best candidate for the role. If an internal candidate is already seen as the most qualified and appointable, running an external process is unnecessary. External candidates put time, energy, and hope into such processes only to receive feedback that essentially states, “You performed well, but you lacked the internal knowledge of the successful candidate.”

This outcome is not fair to the external candidates, nor does it reflect well on the organisation. It erodes trust, wastes resources, and achieves nothing meaningful.

A Fairer Way Forward

Organisations can avoid this situation by adopting the following approaches:

1. Be Proud of Internal Appointments

If a strong internal candidate has earned the role, appoint them. There is no need to run an external process for the sake of appearances. Organisations that promote their own people and invest in internal progression are often seen as better places to work. Celebrating internal success builds morale and demonstrates genuine loyalty to staff.

2. Design Fair Tasks

Where external recruitment is necessary, tasks and assessments must focus on skills, behaviours, and potential—not institutional knowledge. For example:

• Use neutral, industry-relevant scenarios or hypothetical challenges.

• Avoid tasks that rely on internal data, systems, or context not available to external candidates.

• Assess transferable skills, problem-solving, and leadership potential rather than familiarity with internal processes.

3. Provide Constructive Feedback

If external candidates are unsuccessful, their feedback should be meaningful and actionable. Telling someone, “You performed well but lacked internal knowledge,” is unhelpful because it highlights a barrier they could never overcome. Instead, organisations should provide clear and constructive feedback on areas such as skills, competencies, or experiences that can be developed.

4. Balance Transparency with Authenticity

Transparency is important, but it should not become performative. Running a recruitment process purely to create an impression of fairness—when an internal candidate is already the strongest choice—does more harm than good. Organisations that are clear, honest, and authentic in their decisions are more likely to earn trust than those that prioritise appearances.

5. Support Internal Development

To avoid this dilemma in future, organisations should ensure there are clear pathways for internal progression. By providing opportunities for staff to develop their skills, gain experience, and prepare for senior roles, organisations build strong internal pipelines for talent and reduce the need for external recruitment.

Celebrating What Matters

Organisations should not shy away from promoting their own people. Internal appointments demonstrate a commitment to staff development and send a positive message to employees: “Your hard work and loyalty will be rewarded here.” This is far more valuable than creating an external ‘dog and pony show’ to appear transparent.

If external recruitment is necessary, the process must be fair and meaningful. Tasks should assess what truly matters—skills, behaviours, and potential—rather than knowledge that external candidates could never possess. And where internal candidates are already the strongest choice, organisations should have the confidence to appoint them without hesitation.

A fair, transparent, and authentic approach not only leads to better recruitment outcomes but also builds trust, strengthens morale, and enhances the organisation’s reputation as a place where people can grow and succeed.

Leadership is a concept that continues to evolve, yet outdated ideas about what a leader “should” look and behave like remain deeply embedded in many organisations. These notions—centred around traits such as arrogance, unwavering assertiveness, and the nebulous quality often referred to as “gravitas”—still dominate perceptions of effective leadership. But is this truly what good leadership looks like in the modern age?

The truth is, leadership does not need to conform to a rigid, one-size-fits-all mould. The persistence of these outdated ideals not only limits who gets to lead but also stifles innovation and damages the well-being of teams. It is time we challenge these assumptions and expand our understanding of what leadership can and should be.

The Myth of “Gravitas”

The term gravitas—a word evoking weightiness and seriousness—is often held up as a hallmark of effective leadership. In practice, however, it frequently becomes shorthand for outdated stereotypes: the confident man in a tailored grey suit, exuding authority through tone, posture, and presence. This narrow interpretation of leadership rewards those who naturally conform to this image, often overlooking others who possess equally valuable, if not superior, leadership qualities.

Gravitas, as traditionally understood, tends to prioritise how leaders appear rather than how they lead. It elevates confidence over competence, charisma over collaboration, and style over substance. This bias disproportionately favours men, particularly in male-dominated fields, and marginalises women and others who do not fit the stereotypical mould.

The Cost of Outdated Leadership Stereotypes

These antiquated archetypes do not just create barriers for individuals—they also harm organisations. When leadership is defined by assertiveness, arrogance, or a performative projection of authority, it often results in environments where fear and compliance take precedence over trust and innovation. Leaders who embody these traits may achieve short-term results, but they frequently fail to nurture long-term growth or team cohesion.

Moreover, these stereotypes discourage the emergence of diverse leadership styles. Women, for instance, are often criticised for being “not assertive enough” while simultaneously being penalised for being “too aggressive” if they adopt traditional leadership traits. This double bind forces many women to either conform to roles that feel inauthentic or remain overlooked despite their capabilities.

Redefining Leadership: The Case for Gentle Strength

True leadership is not about dominating a room or projecting arrogance—it is about creating an environment where others can thrive. Leaders who are humble, empathetic, collaborative, and gentle challenge the traditional mould but are often the ones who leave the most meaningful impact.

Gentle leadership does not equate to a lack of strength or decisiveness. It means leading with intention and compassion. These leaders listen more than they speak, seek input from their teams, and prioritise the well-being of their people. They understand that leadership is not about wielding power over others but about empowering others.

This style of leadership builds trust, fosters psychological safety, and cultivates loyalty. Yet gentle leaders are still often undervalued in today’s workplaces. Why? Because current metrics for leadership tend to focus on visibility and dominance rather than the quieter but far more impactful qualities of humility and humanity.

A Call to Action

It is time to challenge and dismantle the outdated leadership archetypes that continue to dominate many organisations. Confidence should not be measured by the way someone stands or speaks, but by the impact they have and the way they make others feel. Gravitas should not be about projecting power, but about demonstrating purpose, integrity, and care.

For this shift to occur, organisations must consciously expand their definition of leadership. They need to recognise and reward leaders who may not “command the room” but quietly transform it—leaders who create spaces where everyone feels heard and valued, and who are unafraid to show vulnerability and lead with humanity.

By redefining leadership to include humility, empathy, and collaboration, we do not just create more inclusive opportunities—we also pave the way for healthier, more innovative, and more successful organisations. It is time to leave behind the grey suit stereotypes and embrace a future where leadership is as diverse, dynamic, and compassionate as the people it serves.

Technology has undoubtedly revolutionised the way we live, learn, and interact. In the realm of education, its potential to enhance learning experiences is immense. However, when it comes to teaching reading and fostering a love of literature, the overreliance on technology can have unintended consequences.

The Allure of the Easy Button

One of the most concerning trends in modern education is the temptation to use technology as a shortcut. While digital tools can be valuable aids in the learning process, they should not replace traditional teaching methods. It’s easy to track progress with apps and online platforms, such as Bedrock and Sparx Reader, but this can lead to a superficial understanding of reading for both students and teachers. Instead of focusing on the nuances of language, comprehension, and critical thinking, we risk prioritising quantitative metrics like reading age and vocabulary scores. While this data is significant in many ways, it should not be used in isolation and is subject to interpretation and contextual considerations that can often be forgotten – particularly with our reliance on technology.

The Lost Art of Reading Aloud

In the early years of education, reading aloud is a cornerstone of literacy development. It fosters a love of stories, expands vocabulary, and improves comprehension. Those who are read to before the age of 5 are far more likely to be “word-rich” and notice patterns in reading, as well as enjoying stories. However, as students progress to secondary school, this practice often diminishes. The pressure of content coverage and allure of screens and digital distractions can overshadow the simple pleasure of sharing a good book; of reading rather than studying.

Balancing Act

The key to effective technology integration lies in balance. Technology can be a powerful tool for supplementing traditional instruction. It can provide access to a vast array of texts, offer personalised learning experiences, and engage students in innovative ways – adapting and evolving based on the progress of the user. However, it should never replace the human element of teaching.

To strike the right balance, educators should consider the following:

Purposeful Integration: Technology should be used to enhance learning, not simply for the sake of using it.

Teacher-Led Instruction: While technology can support learning, it should not replace the guidance of a skilled literacy teacher, and the CPD needed for this (particularly in secondary schools).

Focus on Comprehension: Reading comprehension is the ultimate goal. Technology can be a tool to achieve this, but it should not be the sole focus.

Nurture a Love of Reading: Encourage students to read for pleasure, both digitally and in print.

Critical Thinking and Analysis: Teach students to think critically about what they read, both online and offline.

By carefully considering these factors, we can harness the power of technology to foster a generation of skilled, engaged, and lifelong readers.

The cracks in the current education system have turned into gaping chasms, exposing long-ignored inequities and inefficiencies. For over a decade, research has consistently painted a stark picture: children from deprived backgrounds are excluded at alarming rates, the diverse needs of pupils go unmet, teachers feel overworked and undervalued, and the metrics used to measure progress remain woefully inadequate. Yet, as the calls for systemic reform grow louder, the challenge is clear—how do we act bravely without veering into recklessness?

Bravery: Confronting the System’s Flaws

Advocating for a system-wide rethink takes courage, particularly when the status quo is so deeply entrenched. Over the past five years, I’ve championed the idea that the system is not just broken but actively failing the majority of those it claims to serve. This perspective has often been met with cold indifference from colleagues and organisations wedded to tradition. But now, the tide is turning.

The idea that the education system needs radical change is no longer seen as radical—it’s becoming normalised. Conversations that were once considered fringe are now central to policy discussions. The pandemic accelerated this shift, exposing how ill-equipped traditional models are to handle 21st-century challenges. Schools are struggling to manage everything from rising mental health crises among pupils to the inability of standardised curricula to engage diverse learners.

Bravery lies in acknowledging these failures, standing firm in the face of resistance, and pushing for a system that meets the needs of all pupils. It’s about listening to the voices of those marginalised by the system—deprived children, overburdened teachers, and frustrated families—and using their lived experiences to inform change.

Recklessness: Throwing the Baby Out with the Bathwater

However, bravery must be tempered with caution. In our rush to dismantle the old, there is a danger of discarding the aspects of the system that do work. Knowledge, for example, remains a powerful tool. For pupils from deprived backgrounds, access to particular knowledge—be it STEM principles, historical context, or critical thinking frameworks—can act as a key to unlock opportunities in institutions that still wield significant influence.

Take our universities and professional pathways. While the curriculum may feel outdated, it still functions as a gateway to higher education and influential careers. Without representation in these spaces, those calling for change will be absent from the rooms where decisions are made. Why would our elected officials, many of whom are privately educated and graduates of elite universities, champion reforms that could threaten the very system that elevated them?

Recklessness comes when we abandon all sense of structure in the name of innovation. Change for the sake of change risks creating chaos, further disadvantaging the very groups we aim to empower. A measured approach is needed—one that reimagines education without erasing its purpose.

A Call for Thoughtful Revolution

The solution lies in threading the needle between bravery and recklessness. We need a bold, transformative vision for education that centres equity, relevance, and humanity. At the same time, we must recognise the value in certain established structures, adapting rather than abandoning them.

This means:

• Redesigning curricula to reflect modern challenges while preserving essential knowledge.

• Developing new metrics that measure progress beyond test scores.

• Equipping teachers with the resources and respect they deserve.

• Challenging exclusionary practices that push vulnerable children out of education.

• Ensuring representation in policymaking spaces, so diverse voices shape the future.

The education system is crumbling, and that collapse demands action. But as we rebuild, let’s ensure we’re not simply replacing one broken structure with another. Let’s be brave in our vision and cautious in our execution, creating a system that doesn’t just survive but thrives for generations to come.

The path forward isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. Will we rise to meet the moment?

Change is messy. In schools, it can often feel like change doesn’t just disrupt the status quo – it unearths it, flings it into the air, and waits to see where it lands. And when it lands in a tangled heap, something unsettling tends to happen: no one seems to know what to do next. Cracks begin to show in every department – HR, finance, central services, and improvement teams – and suddenly, instead of working together to untangle the mess, the focus shifts. The real problem gets lost in a whirlwind of finger-pointing, defensiveness, and what can only be described as the Great Blame Game.

Why does this happen? Why, when schools – arguably some of the most collaborative spaces in society – hit turbulent waters, does the response so often devolve into self-preservation and territorialism?

Ofsted Culture and the Fear of Accountability

One explanation is that schools have internalised the culture of external accountability so deeply that it has warped their internal dynamics. For decades, Ofsted inspections have held schools up to rigid standards, creating an environment where success is synonymous with compliance and perfection. Failure, by contrast, is seen as catastrophic – a reflection of leadership incompetence or systemic inadequacy.

In this culture, admitting to failure feels akin to stepping into quicksand. When things go wrong, the instinct is to deflect:

• HR blames leadership for unclear priorities.

• Finance points to HR for inefficiencies.

• The improvement team criticises teachers for resisting change.

• Teachers roll their eyes at the improvement team for being disconnected from classroom realities.

No one wants to take responsibility because doing so might mean admitting they’re not the expert they are expected to be. The result is paralysis disguised as action – meetings, reviews, and reports that focus on process rather than resolution.

Why Schools Struggle to Accept Failure

But the blame game is more than just a by-product of accountability culture. At its heart lies a deeper challenge: the inability to accept failure as part of growth. Education as a sector is steeped in tradition and certainty – curriculums, timetables, hierarchies. Schools are structured for predictability, not adaptability.

The world outside, however, has changed drastically. Technology, societal expectations, and students’ needs have evolved in ways that traditional systems struggle to keep pace with. When these shifts expose gaps in knowledge or capacity, the discomfort is profound. For many in education, acknowledging that they don’t have all the answers feels like an admission that they are no longer relevant.

But here’s the paradox: clinging to expertise in a rapidly changing world is what makes organisations obsolete. Schools that thrive are those willing to admit what they don’t know and embrace failure as a step towards innovation.

How to Break the Cycle

1. Reframe Failure: Schools need to stop seeing failure as a threat to their identity and start viewing it as a learning opportunity. Leaders can model this by openly acknowledging mistakes and demonstrating how they lead to better outcomes.

2. Build Psychological Safety: The fear of blame silences creativity and problem-solving. Leaders must foster environments where staff feel safe to voice concerns, admit uncertainties, and suggest bold ideas without fear of repercussions.

3. Shift from Accountability to Improvement: Accountability shouldn’t be about punishment. It should be about growth. Schools need to move beyond the tick-box culture and focus on meaningful, sustainable progress.

4. Ask Better Questions: Instead of asking, “Who’s at fault?” ask, “What’s the root cause, and how do we address it together?” Collaborative problem-solving shifts the focus from individual blame to collective responsibility.

5. Adapt Leadership Styles: Leaders in education must evolve from being the “experts” to being facilitators of change. This means empowering their teams, embracing uncertainty, and leading with humility.

Beyond the Blame Game

At its best, education is a dynamic, forward-thinking sector full of passionate individuals united by a shared goal: helping young people succeed. But when change feels like chaos and fear takes over, it’s easy to lose sight of that mission. The challenge – and opportunity – lies in resisting the urge to point fingers and instead coming together to ask the hard questions, admit the hard truths, and do the hard work of figuring it out together.

Because the world has changed. And schools must change with it – not by holding onto outdated notions of expertise, but by leaning into uncertainty with curiosity, courage, and collaboration. The question isn’t whether schools can adapt. It’s whether they’re willing to embrace the messiness of change to get there.

Education should empower all students to thrive, yet many traditional systems fall short, prioritising academic outcomes over individual growth. From my experience leading schools, I have witnessed firsthand how conventional approaches can fail students, forcing them into structures that do not meet their needs and, in some cases, setting them up to fail. It is clear that a transformative model like Practical Skills Therapeutic Education (PSTE) could have prevented this by addressing students’ needs holistically and fostering their personal, social, and academic development.

PSTE, developed by Aonghus Gordon and rooted in the philosophies of Rudolf Steiner, John Ruskin, and William Morris, offers a revolutionary alternative to the one-size-fits-all education model. By integrating therapeutic principles and practical skills, PSTE prioritizes each student’s development as a whole person. This article explores why PSTE, underpinned by its Seven Fields of Practice, is a better fit for today’s diverse learners and how it provides opportunities for success where traditional education models have failed.

The Seven Fields of Practice: A Framework for Holistic Growth

PSTE’s innovative methodology is built upon the Seven Fields of Practice, each designed to guide students through a journey of self-discovery, skill-building, and personal transformation.

1. Genius Loci (Spirit of Place): Every educational setting under PSTE embraces the unique qualities of its location. By connecting students to the local environment—its geology, flora, fauna, and cultural history—they develop a sense of belonging and inspiration rarely fostered in standardized educational models.

2. Practical Skills: Practical activities such as crafting and land-based work develop cognitive, emotional, and physical skills. Students engage in processes like sourcing raw materials and creating meaningful objects, allowing them to reconnect with their environment, their peers, and themselves.

3. Biodynamic Ecology: Through a “seed-to-table” curriculum, students cultivate a deeper understanding of nature’s rhythms and cycles. This hands-on approach to food production, agriculture, and ecology fosters a sense of responsibility and health-conscious living.

4. Therapeutic Education: Many students have developmental gaps or sensory integration challenges that traditional systems overlook. PSTE addresses these through age-appropriate activities that enable students to revisit missed developmental stages and overcome barriers to learning.

5. Holistic Support and Care: Beyond the classroom, PSTE extends into daily living, particularly for students in residential care. By learning homemaking and life skills, students are empowered to take greater control of their lives and work towards independence.

6. Holistic Medicine: Students’ health and well-being are supported by an integrated team of therapists, practitioners, and educators who address physical, emotional, and mental needs. This field ensures the holistic care often absent in conventional schooling.

7. Transformative Leadership: Staff model positive relationships and emotional intelligence, guiding students toward self-awareness, empathy, and a deep understanding of their role in the community and the wider world.

How PSTE Addresses the Failures of Conventional Education

In my career, I have seen the devastating impact of education systems that emphasize conformity and standardization over individual needs. Traditional models often leave students who struggle with rigid structures or standardized testing unsupported, resulting in cycles of failure and disengagement. PSTE offers an entirely different approach, ensuring no student is left behind.

1. Personalized Learning for Every Student

Where traditional systems often impose uniform expectations, PSTE tailors the curriculum to meet each student’s developmental needs. Practical skills, social development, and academic growth are integrated into a personalized journey that empowers students to progress at their own pace.

2. Hands-On, Meaningful Education

PSTE replaces the abstract learning often found in standard curricula with practical, hands-on activities. Students develop gross and fine motor skills, critical thinking, and confidence as they engage in crafting, farming, and other productive work.

3. Therapeutic Interventions Built into Education

Unlike traditional models that separate therapy from education, PSTE integrates therapeutic principles into the learning process. This approach ensures that students with developmental challenges receive the support they need to overcome barriers and unlock their potential.

4. Emphasis on Community and Contribution

While traditional schooling often focuses solely on individual success, PSTE highlights the importance of community engagement. Students contribute to meaningful projects, such as social enterprises and cultural events, developing a sense of purpose and belonging.

5. Holistic Development Beyond Academics

Mainstream education rarely addresses emotional, physical, and social well-being comprehensively. PSTE’s holistic approach nurtures the whole student, supporting their mental and physical health alongside academic and practical skills.

Preventing Failure Through Transformation

One of the most profound aspects of PSTE is its ability to transform not just students, but the entire educational experience. Students who might otherwise be deemed “failures” in a conventional system are instead seen as individuals with unique potential. By equipping them with the tools to transform raw materials, PSTE helps students transform their self-perception, recognizing their abilities and value to society.

In my experience, this approach could have made all the difference for the many students I have seen struggling against the constraints of traditional education. It offers a path where failure is not an inevitability but an opportunity for growth and resilience.

A Vision for Success

Education should be a journey toward independence, confidence, and contribution. Practical Skills Therapeutic Education exemplifies this vision, fostering students who are not only skilled but also compassionate, self-aware, and equipped to shape their own futures.

By prioritizing head, hand, heart, and place, PSTE provides a model of education that ensures every student, regardless of their starting point, can succeed. For those of us who have witnessed the failures of conventional systems, PSTE offers hope—a way forward where every student has the opportunity to thrive.

For many in the education system—whether teachers, school leaders, or support staff—there’s an unsettling feeling in the air. A disillusionment born not from a lack of passion or dedication, but from a deep-seated frustration with the system itself. The sense that something is fundamentally broken, that the traditional model of schooling we’ve known for generations might be nearing its end, has never been more palpable. Yet, there is also the nagging question: what comes next?

The looming uncertainty surrounding the future of education is both exhilarating and terrifying. In the next few years—or even the next decade—will the system evolve into something radically different, or will it remain an institution of gradual reform and adaptation? Change is on the horizon, but no one knows exactly what it will look like. Will we see a sweeping revolution in education, or will we simply tinker with the existing structure until we can no longer deny that it no longer serves the needs of students or society?

This paradox of change—feeling like we’re on the brink of something transformative, yet unsure of its direction—can lead to a deep sense of confusion. As educators and leaders within this system, we spend our days navigating a framework that may very well be obsolete, uncertain of whether the work we are doing today will matter tomorrow.

The strain becomes even more palpable when considering the increasingly distant relationship between traditional schooling and the world beyond the classroom. Technology, globalisation, and societal changes are rapidly altering the landscape, while many schools and institutions seem tethered to a model that no longer fits. We know that students today face a world radically different from the one we grew up in—and even more so from the world in which the current education system was designed.

This sense of disillusionment often manifests as a questioning of purpose. As school leaders, we’re pulled between two opposing forces: the desire to continue shaping young minds within the context of a flawed system, and the desire to throw off the shackles of tradition and focus on what truly matters—the individual child, the real-time impact we can have in a single moment. While education reform feels like an urgent necessity, it can be overwhelming to feel as though you’re fighting an uphill battle in a system that may take years—or even decades—to fully transform.

At the heart of this disillusionment lies an existential question: What is the point of doing the work we’re doing if we don’t know what the future of education will look like? We may pour our energy into the development of young people, all the while questioning whether our efforts are futile in the face of a system that no longer serves their best interests. The uncertainty of not knowing what the education landscape will look like in a year, let alone ten, can make even the most dedicated educators feel like they’re treading water.

But perhaps therein lies the key to maintaining both hope and momentum: focusing on the micro, not the macro.

As a school leader, the natural inclination is often to focus on the big picture—the policies, the strategies, the broad frameworks that shape the institution. There’s an immense pressure to keep an eye on the long-term trajectory, to steer the ship toward a future that remains unclear. However, in a time of uncertainty, this macro focus can feel paralyzing. The world is changing so quickly that trying to predict and plan for the distant future seems almost futile. Instead, we may find that the true value in our work lies in the moments we spend with our students, in the small but significant differences we make to their lives right now.

When the world feels like it’s in flux, focusing on the immediate, tangible impact we can have on individual children becomes a powerful way to ground ourselves in purpose. In the classroom, the ability to see the difference we’re making in real time—to watch a child struggle, learn, and ultimately thrive—offers a sense of satisfaction that a broad policy shift or system-wide reform may never provide. As school leaders, the moments when we connect with students on a personal level, when we support their unique needs, are the moments that provide clarity amidst the noise.

Focusing on the micro also allows us to be more agile. In a world where the macro shifts feel beyond our control, we can take solace in the fact that our day-to-day work can still have profound meaning. We can innovate within our own classrooms, schools, and communities, shaping the experience of our students in ways that align with our values and vision, even if the larger system lags behind.

This focus on the individual is not to say we should abandon efforts for systemic reform. Change is needed, and educators must continue to advocate for a future that better serves both students and society. However, the key to navigating the disillusionment that comes with working within an outdated system may lie in accepting that change will come on its own timeline—and that, in the meantime, we are still making a difference. By prioritising the present moment—the child before us, the relationship we are building, the growth we are nurturing—we reclaim a sense of agency in a system that sometimes feels powerless.

The future of education may be uncertain, but the impact we have on the lives of our students is not. Perhaps that is the place where we can find purpose, even in the face of all the unknowns. As the system catches up with the world outside, we can continue doing the most meaningful work possible: shaping lives, one student at a time.

In recent years, the debate surrounding the presence of mobile phones in secondary schools has grown louder, with many advocating for a national ban. The reasons for this are compelling: concerns over safeguarding, the impact of excessive screen time, the dangers of social media, and the negative effect on face-to-face communication. But as we consider these valid concerns, an important question arises: Is banning mobile phones the most effective solution, or does it represent an educational failure to engage with the reality of modern life?

The Case for a Ban

There is no denying that mobile phones pose significant challenges in schools. From cyberbullying to distracting notifications, the constant presence of mobile phones can undermine students’ focus, mental health, and social interactions. Teachers have long expressed frustration over students using their phones in class, whether for social media, gaming, or texting.

Social media platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat have been linked to rising levels of anxiety, depression, and low self-esteem among young people, particularly as they become more exposed to cyberbullying or unrealistic beauty standards. Smartphones also make it all too easy for students to access inappropriate content, leading to concerns around safeguarding. And when it comes to face-to-face communication, many argue that the ubiquitous presence of phones has hindered young people’s ability to develop crucial social skills, such as reading body language or maintaining eye contact.

Given these legitimate concerns, it’s understandable why some advocate for a ban. Banning phones would, in theory, remove many of the distractions and dangers associated with their use and help students focus more on their studies and social interactions in person.

The Role of Phones in Students’ Futures

However, banning mobile phones in schools raises an important counterpoint: The world that students are entering is one where technology—and mobile phones in particular—will be central. Phones are no longer just tools for socialising or entertainment. They are integral to the workplace, providing access to emails, video conferencing, productivity apps, and real-time information. As the workplace continues to evolve with the rise of digital tools and remote work, the skills needed to navigate these technologies will only become more critical.

If schools simply remove mobile phones from the equation, are they adequately preparing students for the realities of their future lives and careers? It’s worth considering whether education should focus on equipping students with the skills needed to use technology in a balanced, mindful way, rather than simply shutting it out.

Moreover, many jobs today require an adept understanding of digital communication tools. From managing online teams to utilising industry-specific apps, the ability to use mobile devices effectively and responsibly is a valuable skill. If schools treat phones like a nuisance rather than a resource, are they missing an opportunity to teach digital literacy, critical thinking, and time management in a connected world?

Beyond Banning: The Need for Digital Literacy and Self-Control

Rather than simply banning phones, perhaps the greater challenge lies in teaching students how to use them responsibly. Digital literacy—teaching students how to navigate online spaces safely, respectfully, and productively—should be a central part of modern education. Instead of focusing on punitive measures, schools could invest in programmes that promote healthy phone habits, such as setting boundaries around screen time and using apps to track usage. In this way, phones are not seen as inherently harmful but as tools to be managed, much like any other resource.

Additionally, as mobile phones often play a significant role in students’ social lives, schools could work to improve social engagement and emotional intelligence in more effective ways. Encouraging extracurricular activities, team sports, and projects that foster face-to-face interactions can help students develop stronger interpersonal skills, reducing their dependence on digital communication. Schools could also create environments that promote self-esteem and self-control, helping students recognise the difference between healthy phone use and unhealthy dependence.

By promoting a more holistic approach, schools can address the root causes of phone overuse—such as social isolation, anxiety, or boredom—rather than simply removing the device altogether. In doing so, students may learn how to build resilience against the pressures of social media and the constant pull of their devices.

The Risk of Laziness in the Education System

Banning phones could, in many ways, be seen as a shortcut—an easy way to avoid confronting the deeper issues that come with smartphone addiction. In the same way that previous generations of students were faced with the challenges of television, video games, or even printed media, today’s students are dealing with new digital realities. Rather than seeking to ban or restrict these technologies, schools should be actively teaching students how to engage with them in a way that enhances their education and well-being.

To put it simply, is banning mobile phones in schools an act of necessary protection, or is it a sign that education systems are struggling to keep up with the changing world? Are we addressing the real issue—namely, the development of self-control, responsible use, and a healthy relationship with technology—or are we just avoiding it?

While the risks associated with mobile phone use in schools are clear, the solution is not as simple as an outright ban. Instead of removing these devices from students’ lives, schools should focus on equipping students with the skills and knowledge to use them responsibly. Education should evolve to reflect the digital age, fostering digital literacy, self-regulation, and emotional intelligence. By doing so, we not only prepare students for the future but also empower them to navigate a world that will undoubtedly be shaped by technology. Instead of looking at mobile phones as the enemy, perhaps it’s time to teach students how to be the masters of their own devices.