Debbie Hayton Debbie Hayton

The tyranny of GCSEs

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Deep within the workings of an electric motor lies a split-ring commutator. It reverses the current flowing through the coil every half rotation so that the force on the coil also reverses as it spins between a pair of opposing magnetic poles.

If ever it was necessary to recall such esoteric minutiae, the time is now – if you are 16 years old and facing the prospect of GCSE exams, that is. Hundreds of thousands of children in Years 11 and 13 are currently in the middle of exam season, but for what purpose?

We need to do better for the next generation and for schools

I cited the electric motor because I teach science in a secondary school in the West of England. Much earlier in my life, I achieved a PhD in atomic physics without needing to know anything about the innards of the motors in my research lab, but now I explain them every year to classes of children in intricate detail. Why? Because it might be on the test.

At this time of year, GCSE exams become the singular focus in many schools. Results are crucial for pupils, of course, But they also matter to teachers. If the average grade secured by the children in my Year 11 class is below expectations, there may well be questions for me to answer. ‘Performance data’ determines league table rankings, and it also excites school inspectors.

But in schools the adage ‘inspect what you expect’ can get turned upside down. In a previous school where I worked, teachers were required to put on special classes each spring to ‘bump up the grades’ of children who were on track for grade D. That was until the key performance indicator changed from those achieving C (or above) to those reaching grade A. That may have been a reaction to grade inflation, but at a stroke it changed the cohort of children required to attend the extra sessions. ‘Expect what you inspect’ meant that we could look forward to rather more A-grades in August, but probably a lot more D-grades as part of the deal.

Make no mistake, exams are still very useful. Youngsters who learn to assimilate vast quantities of miscellany and then apply their knowledge under highly-pressurised conditions will have developed life skills that will serve them well as adults. Those who can prioritise their work, and prepare effectively to meet a strict deadline, tend to be rewarded over those who don’t. And so they should: these are skills that might interest prospective employers.

Exams also level the playing field between those with integrity and those who cheerfully delegate unsupervised coursework to others or, these days, simply ‘put it through AI’. Yes, we check for AI, but it’s hard to keep ahead of bots that can be prompted to produce material in the style of a student’s own work. Unscrupulous schools might not even bother to investigate their suspicions. If the student signs off the work as their own, schools have a vested interest in the grades that their pupils achieve by fair means or foul.

However, it is questionable whether exams show proficiency in a subject much beyond the ability to pass the exam itself. My own children have all notched up high grades in GCSE French but they leave it to me to share the ‘bonjour, ça va? et au revoir’ in the supermarket checkout line. They might have been able to recite carefully prepared passages containing the necessary constructions to secure GCSE success, but what matters in life is the ability to exchange pleasantries au supermarché.

One of Rishi Sunak’s legacies to education was his ‘maths to 18 plan’. When he set out his priorities for 2023, he announced that he wanted ‘all children [to be] studying some form of maths to 18’. Ideally, his government might have pushed for maths that is relevant to everyday life – financial literacy perhaps, or maybe the skills needed to correctly interpret graphs and charts. But for sixth formers who get a grade 3 or less at GCSE, there is the prospect of having to re-sit the exam every six months until they either pass the exam or leave education. Will their future be any worse if they cannot calculate the sum of angles within regular polygons or pick out the scalene triangle from an identity parade? But by these skills they are judged, along with their schools.

We need to do better for the next generation and for schools. Assessing pupil, teacher and school by the same exam grades is madness. Let’s also recognise character, integrity, determination, as well as that A grade. After all, there is far more to life than scalene triangles or split-ring commutators.

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