All posts by Conrad Hughes

Conrad Hughes, (MA, PhD, EdD) is the Head of School of the International School of Los Angeles. He was previously Director General of the International School of Geneva. He has been School Principal, Director of Education, International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme Coordinator and teacher in schools in Switzerland, France, India and the Netherlands. Conrad is also a Professor in practice at Durham University's School of Education, Senior Fellow at UNESCO's International Bureau of Education, a member of the advisory board for the University of the People and associate researcher at the University of Geneva's department of psychology and education.

Beyond Servant Leadership

In the 1970s, the American businessman Robert Greenleaf coined the term “servant leadership” meaning that leaders should be at the service of those they lead. On the surface, this seems like a good idea, counteracting the paradigm of the domineering, micromanaging, and self-centered leader who crushes others and takes all the credit. But let’s deconstruct the concept of the “servant” first.

To be clear, a leader who drowns others out is not a good leader; this is an unsustainable way of operating that kills creativity and creates despondency within a team. No one wants a leader who lacks respect for them or refuses to give them space.

But is the idea of a servant leader the best antidote to this and what exactly is a servant? Essentially, a servant is someone who is there to tend to the needs of another person, perform chores for them, and complete tasks that the person being served does not wish to do themselves. Is this what a good leader should be doing?

How do we move out of our comfort zones? How do we become better versions of ourselves? How do we do excellent work that makes us proud? Is it by one person being the servant of another?

The term “servant” implies an overly simplistic, dichotomous relationship; it is a short-termist approach that offers initial gratification to both parties (the self consciousness of serving others and the satisfaction of being served) but ultimately leads to stasis. We should not be afraid to look to become something much more ambitious: respectful but exacting interlocutors, creative business partners, and dynamic collaborators in an ongoing quest that lies beyond our egos.

A good leader is a coach who asks the right questions, knows how to listen, and empowers their team by challenging them, encouraging them to set inspiring goals, and providing guidance; not simply someone who serves others and creates learned helplessness but someone who creates a vibrant culture of coextensive professional excellence.

Ultimately, the world of work, particularly in education, is a place where we bring our passion to the higher service of our mission. Leaders should strive to create other leaders within their teams. This is called meta-leadership: the idea that you do not simply lead people, but rather lead others to become leaders, ideally, even better leaders than yourself.

So, while the intent behind servant leadership may be positive, and while it is vital to put people first and work for the greater good, true leadership requires something more subtle and more valuable than being a servant. I think the essence to retain from the idea of servant leadership is less the act of being a servant and more the position of humility: respecting those you lead and serving them in that sense. One of the greatest ways leaders can nurture humility within themselves, and truly be of service to their team and the organisation, is to empower others and, in doing so, nurture growth from within.

Early years teachers: the unsung heroes of education?

The other day I was walking the school at one of our campuses and enjoying some early years teaching. Observing some of our master teachers, three points came to mind:

1. Malleability and Foundational Development

Although the preconception that neuroplasticity stops in adults has been debunked to show that neuroplasticity is far more dynamic and contextual to experience, there is still an abundance of evidence to show that the neural connections made in children early on are extraordinarily voluminous and particularly important for their subsequent cognitive development. It is in the developing brain of early years that the foundations of learning are constructed in what’s known as exuberant synaptogenesis, an overproduction of synapses (over a million a second). This allows for fluid and fast skill acquisition (López, et al., 2024), making those years particularly important. On this note, it is not only the cerebral and cognitive impressions that make deep inroads in students’ minds during this phase of learning; behavioural norms and ethical standards (the “rules of the game” as it were) are forged. In other words, this phase of development is particularly crucial and sensitive. 

2. The Holistic Challenge of Early Years Teaching

All teaching is holistic, and no teacher is merely teaching the academic dimension of being; they address psychological and emotional needs at the same time. However, teaching behavioural regulation alongside cognitive development to children below 5 is particularly challenging. Teachers need to be expert pedagogues, differentiating not only the Vygotskian Zone of Proximal Development (which is so very different for each child), but creating learning episodes that hold their attention and gently socialise children to manage themselves and learn to live with others, each at a different pace. Children under 5 can be impulsive and emotional: they have not yet mastered the codes of social organisation. The management of a group under such circumstances, let alone the task of educating foundational skills and knowledge within such parameters, makes the mission of early years teaching truly holistic. In short, teaching very young children is teaching to know, to learn, to be, and to live together; something that is exceptionally rich, complex and multi-facetted in design.

3. Curating Insatiable Curiosity

Young learners’ curiosity is insatiable: the barrage of questions, the overflow of enthusiasm and desire to participate, the constant flow of queries, thinking out loud and testing boundaries can be overwhelming for a parent. Imagine navigating that for a dozen children! Early years teachers have to show exceptional empathy and patience; they need to fuel such curiosity while curating it, to ensure that the students’ cognitive development is steady and positive while not letting the coherence of a lesson be taken off track. Psychologically, we are trying to teach young people to walk a straight line and to remain focused, thus exercising their executive function, while at the same time keeping the flame of inquiry alive, not clamping down on the extraordinary creativity and mind-wandering of young children. The science and art of early years teaching is a tightrope between socialisation and nurturing the sacred garden in each imagination: no mean feat. 

Supporting these heroes

I say that our early years teachers are unsung heroes because, worldwide, they are paid less than secondary teachers (OECD, 2025) and when it comes to the 44 million dearth of teachers across the globe, a major problem, a key component, is early years teacher attrition (UNESCO, 2024): there is an exodus of primary teachers in general from the workforce, no doubt because of suboptimal conditions. 

This means that school leaders, ministries and all those with decisional power in education have to make sure that we nurture, appreciate, and recognise the powerful work done on the frontline by early years teachers: they are pivotal in forming the future.

Three concrete ways to do this are: pay parity with secondary teachers, public celebration of their work and ensuring that on committees and at the decision table, the early years voice is heard and respected.

References

López, E., Alcaraz, R. S., & García, C. (2024). Econeurobiology and brain development in children: key factors affecting development, behavioral outcomes, and school interventions: Frontiers in Public Health, 12, 1376075.

OECD. (2025). Education at a Glance 2025: OECD Indicators, OECD Publishing, Paris.

UNESCO & International Task Force on Teachers for Education 2030. (2024). Global Report on Teachers: Addressing teacher shortages and transforming the profession. UNESCO Publishing.

Educational Lessons from the Getty Villa

The oil merchant tycoon J. Paul Getty was an avid art collector and took his passion to extraordinary heights with the building of the Getty Villa. Off the Malibu coast in the dry Californian hills, he commissioned the building of a palace modelled on that of a Roman patrician’s palace in Herculaneum. Not only is the building a sublime replica of a Roman villa, it contains a wonderful collection of Greek and Roman statues which Getty purchased, mainly in the South of Italy, with passionate attention to detail.

There’s much to be said about museums, and not all of it is positive, since they are an ideologically and philosophically problematic assertion of decontextualised and frequently stolen works crowded in a slightly ersatz setting. I’ve often felt, wandering through the Louvre or the Prado, mild symptoms of the so-called Stendhal syndrome, a type of dizziness created by the sheer concentration of art. In fact, after an hour or two, no one can seriously take in yet more art, especially when it is crammed in such an industrial, exhibitory fashion. This is why it’s often more pleasant to view a single work, or a few, in their original setting, like Caravaggio’s paintings in the churches of Rome or the magnificent Colossi of Memnon in Luxor. In any case, I take little pleasure in viewing obelisks in the middle of Paris, Rome or London and even less the Elgin marbles packed in a type of curio shop of Graeco-Egyptian relics in the British museum only to find the frieze of the Acropolis’ Parthenon in Athens bare!

The comparison with education is simple: too often our curricula are jam-packed with items of decontextualised knowledge, sequenced in such a manner that the experience of incorporating all that information is neither ergonomic nor particularly enjoyable. It’s a kind of conveyor belt of transmission, forcing learning disparate “units” in a concentrated setting, ending with the fairly brutal episode of very high-stakes and narrow assessments which are equally compressed. Getty’s Villa, on the other hand, contains two extremely powerful lessons on the curation of art and, by analogy, the creation of curriculum design.

First, the aestheticism. Between the tall cypress and carefully planted pomegranate trees, the wistful stone pines, bronze statues in hedged gardens, marble-floored peristyles, fountains and gorgeous views of the Pacific Ocean, some of the most sumptuous sculptures, urns, and mosaics have been assembled at the Villa. One can stroll in and out of the spaces, from an exhibition hall to an outdoor cloister to a reconstructed temple at the end of a breezy vista. The whole experience has been crafted meticulously and lovingly, meaning that there is a harmony and construction in the viewing. This is how curriculum should be organised, as a story, with powerful concepts that cohere with one another, as an aesthetic experience that takes the learner on an unforgettable journey. In my philosophy classes I always teach the ancient Greeks within the overriding concept of the “Arche” – the fundamental stuff of the universe, and African thought systems such as Ubuntu and the Yoruba cosmology within the conceptual framework of ancestry and spirit, to make the learning flow like a narrative, to give the students some pleasure and interest in the story rather than the lesson. This is also why I’ve always been in favour of giving the history of the subject and some intriguing anecdotes about the people involved in whatever we teach. It’s pretty boring to simply hammer out science, mathematics, the arts and the humanities without some of the fascinating details of the lives and passionate stories behind the findings.

Instead, too often curriculum design treats learning it as a type of incoherent and strictly utilitarian assembly of subjects timetabled incongruously next to one other like an ugly city with buildings from different times dumped jarringly side by side with no urban planning, no rhyme or reason. This is why units of inquiry (although I’m not in love with the term “unit”) and transdisciplinary or interdisciplinary learning experiences are preferable to mere topic coverage: there is an architecture, a structure. It is the svelteness and elegance of cogency that makes the Getty Villa so much more than a simple museum and almost forces anyone strolling through it to slow down and appreciate everything around them as a whole.

Second, the fact that the villa is a reconstruction, carrying with it, of course, the hubris and potential kitsch that such an ambition announces, is nonetheless something that plunges you into the past wholly and remarkably, as if you were living as a Roman during the Roman period itself. Everything has been lavishly restored, the colours are vivid and alive. It is nothing of the grey and broken atmosphere of a ruin or the funereal, high-ceilinged abstractness of a museum for the sake of a museum. You feel transported to the South of Italy and at least 2000 years back in time. Likewise, curriculum should be contextualised in such a way that the imagination is plunged into its world. It should be relevant and vivacious to the learner just as standing on the beach means that you feel the salt of the sea on your face. It is the power and the imagination of the teacher who can do this, by evoking the universe of the subject and not just the content matter, by bringing the curriculum to life.

Whenever I speak at an assembly for students (and by the way, assemblies are part of the curriculum, please make sure they are not boring), there will be a story, and I always make sure that the story is framed in a setting with atmosphere, details, smells and textures, so that it does not come across as inert and dry information but rather as a psychic experience. This helps students connect with the information and remember it. Too often we rush from one lesson to another and “there is not enough time” to discuss the history of the subject because we have to “get through” what’s on the test. And yet, without the storytelling and the musical pacing, without the ability to slow down and unpack the wonderful anecdotes and intrigues within the history of the subject, without the necessary time etched out to focus and bring out some of the character of the subject matter, the enterprise can be fairly stagnant and uninspiring to the imagination. So very often, we need to stimulate the imagination for deep learning to occur.

The Getty Villa is a true gem and reminds all of us in education of the importance of beauty, and context; that curriculum is not an exercise on paper but a living, active phenomenon that, if assembled the right way, can have a deep and transformational effect on the mind and spirit.

Teaching to be an Upstander: Education and Bullying

Many of the competencies and values we aim to develop through education are cognitive and technical: conceptual understanding, skills, knowledge and the transfer of knowledge, innovation and creativity, criticality, and reflection. The radical transformation of the generation and distribution of knowledge by artificial intelligence is reshaping the importance and form of some of these facets of learning.

Then there are the more intrapersonal, ethical, and social aspects of an education: social and emotional learning, wellbeing, building self-confidence, civic responsibility, skills, and approaches to being linked to the way we live in society and in our environment. Anxiety, mental illness, difficulties navigating childhood and adolescence in a fast-moving and fast-changing world are more and more prevalent and shape the expectations placed on educators today much more than 100 years ago. It’s good that we understand that vital interrelationship between learning and emotions today, for this means that relationships with students tend to be curated more subtly, encouragingly, sensitively, and mindfully than they were in the cold Dickensian classroom of the 19th Century where humiliation, corporal punishment, and sarcasm reigned freely. Research in cognition shows us fairly clearly that these inhibit learning, they do not encourage it. 

One of the major challenges facing educators is bullying. Students are bullied in and out of school in a number of ways, and more and more online. Often bullying takes place in “friend” groups and is characterised by a persistent mocking or humiliation, or physical torment, of another person in front of a group. It is the persistence, accompanied by an imbalance of power, that characterises bullying.

When a child is constantly bullied by another student, going to school becomes a traumatic experience. The learning in the classroom is far from the main preoccupation, which is keeping safe and away from the bully. Parents will feel exasperated when their children come home with horror stories and it seems as if the school is doing nothing about it. From a disciplinarian point of view, such scenarios can be complex to unpack, for the bully might feel bullied themselves, and narratives around what is happening are difficult to unpack, the truth not easy to determine, especially since it requires evidence that may not be at hand.

This much said, it has to be taken seriously, and schools have to do what they can to tackle bullying, to stamp it out, and to ensure that children grow up free from such major distress. How can this be done?

There’s no easy answer. Responses range from positive discipline and restorative practices to more traditional and stricter, less collaborative approaches. In truth, it’s a long and arduous journey to change the dynamic in a relationship between students where bullying is occurring, to make it stop, and to reinstate confidence in the bullied child.

One thing that is vitally important to recognise and encourage is the power of the upstander, and to develop the strength to overcome the fear of the bystander. One of the most pernicious aspects of bullying is that when it happens people turn a blind eye to it, often out of fear or apathy. The bullying carries on in broad daylight in front of others, and nothing is done to stop it. At some point, someone has to have the courage to step in and say “enough”, “stop”. Needless to say, this is much easier said than done. 

It’s an important message to send out to students in assemblies, discussions, and when handling individual cases: to involve the group and not just two individuals, and to remind everybody that as a community we are no stronger than the weakest link in the chain; that if we all remain silent while someone is being persecuted, when we are persecuted, no one will stand up for us (Martin Niemöller’s famous poem comes to mind, as does the quote by the British philosopher Edmund Burke about evil proliferating because good men do nothing).

As adults, the place to start is with ourselves, for no moral education can be carried by rhetoric alone; it has to be modelled and delivered through example. Too many cases of bullying exist in the adult world—through mobbing, email assaults, unkind words—especially when there is an imbalance of power, and it is a person who is organisationally more powerful than another who is doing it. In how many cases does the group (department, team, or boardroom) simply keep quiet, out of fear, when this is happening?

If you find yourself in an environment where someone else is being humiliated, downtrodden, maligned or threatened, don’t be afraid to speak up. This gives enormous strength to the person being attacked and makes the persecutor think twice. So often, all it takes is for one or two people to stand up for the behaviour to cease, but who will be the person who manages to break the silence and step forward?

Teaching these profound leadership moments is less about lessons and concepts and much more about a culture where kindness is venerated and the practice of calling in and being an upstander has become normalised. It takes years and, if truth be told, few institutions will truly manage to get there, for human beings can be cruel by nature and culture is morphed by all sorts of hidden and surreptitious, changing forces. But if we keep our eye out for it, if we are serious about combatting bullying and treat signs of it as every bit as important, if not more so, than other signs of learning, the first step will be taken.

Leaders have to emphasise the message that we will not tolerate certain types of behaviour, model vulnerability so that there is enough freedom in the community for others to stand up and speak, even against the leaders themselves. That is the open society as the great philosopher Karl Popper called it—a space where those in power allow themselves to be criticised, refuse to take it personally, and never respond with vindictiveness or vengeance. This models that people in power know how to step back and allow others to express themselves.

Let us keep educating for the moral courage to call others in, to step up, to help each other out. All the talk of 21st Century learning in the world won’t mean much if the wellbeing and psychological safety needed to flourish is not taken care of first.

Toxicity in the Workplace

The metaphor “toxic” to describe work culture came about in the late 1980s in a leadership guide characterising toxic workplaces as ridden with conflict, “obscure goals and values, aggressive communication and scenarios in which staff are used like material resources.” (Christian, 2023

Since then, the term has gained currency and is used frequently to describe the workplace and, sometimes, even people.

It’s not very difficult to see what you might call a toxic culture: the weight of ego and testosterone is childishly heavy, agendas are personal; there’s usually a general cynicism about the mission, mainly through some form of blaming others for not living up to it; exchanges are accusatory; people are palpably afraid; there is no trust and back-biting is a major hobby. There are, in fact, elements of a so-called toxic culture that are superficially pleasing to our sense of schadenfreude and drama: spreading rumors, gossip, and scapegoating brings with it a rush of mischievous dopamine. This draws on the base instincts that fuel human passions and can be —forgive the pun—intoxicating. In his 2011 bestseller Sapiens,  Yuval Harari ventures that humans love rumours and gossip because this goes back to an archaic and tribal need to categorise people and guess their potential threat quotient: perhaps unconsciously we are drawn to create narratives around others so as to surmise their  inner motivations, to “read” and second guess them as it were. The point is that it’s easy to drift into this type of behaviour.

Email gives a distinctly post 1980s twist to toxicity, especially if there is a norm of ganging up on people or humiliating them with all on copy. As we still live in a logocentric world, where the written word has some gravity, this can be weaponised. I’ve written about this previously, pointing out that  one is far less likely to see this level of virulence in face to face conversations. It’s no doubt easier to write something nasty to someone than to say it to their face! This is why rituals of face to face meetings to deal with problems are always better than protracted email battles.

If these unsavoury habits become anchored and are given oxygen, they can influence others’ behaviour, and therefore the culture of the group or workplace, strongly. It is not uncommon in such scenarios to see moderates stand on the sidelines while the negativity intensifies.  William Butler Yeats wrote in his apocalyptic 100-year old poem “The Second Coming” that “the best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” Indeed, without a concerted leadership effort (for it is usually leaders who are seen as responsible for the culture),  the diffusion of behaviour might well be dragged down by the energy of resentment, which is bullish enough to silence those not looking for conflict.

So the question must be, how do we shift a culture from toxic to healthy? How do we break away from something that is powerful and seated in our collective survival instinct and seems to spread like wildfire in communities?

Trying to reform a culture of this sort is obviously very difficult; it requires a type of spiritual conversion on the part of several individuals collectively, or some sort of watershed moment or even crisis to end the negativity and start anew. The work must be intentional and sincere, far reaching and systematic.

The great (but also contradictory) German philosopher Nietzsche wrote at length about the mundane yet inexorable force of resentment; its surprising potency and ubiquity. For him, one needs to rise above it in an act of self overcoming (Selbstüberwindung – what a splendid word!).

In the world of life coaching, as the brilliant, if not quixotic, American psychologist Milton Erickson, arguably the father of neurolinguistic programming, once said, “People are okay, People have real resources, Every person has a positive intention, People do their best, and change is inevitable.” (Atkinson, 2019). These are Erickson’s five principles.

I would venture that these five principles or assumptions make up the obligatory philosophical premise needed to heal a culture: not to judge other people or revel in blame, not to become defensive, and certainly not to stoop to the level of whatever is being said against you. To wipe the slate clean, you must imagine that the person in front of you – or behind your back – actually  has good intentions and is, ontologically, a good person and they need to know that you think that. Behaviours are often expressions of hurt or need from individuals, resentment is simply the voice of frustration, and if we manage to look at these expressions magnanimously, even if they are directed against us, it will help us offer solutions instead of erect barriers. 

The question of perspective is by no means trivial: if the leader sees toxicity everywhere, is there a chance that she/he/them is actually contributing to the toxicity? Are the people who complain about a culture being toxic completely free of toxicity themselves? The Pre-Socratic philosopher Protagoras took this idea quite far when he said that”Man is the measure of all things”, meaning that we tend to see the world for what we are. So looking at things with a positive spirit, especially as a leader,is particularly important as we might actually  be creating the reality we think we see by projecting our own issues onto it. Better to see the glass half full.

At this point it’s worth noting that “toxic” is not actually a very helpful term, it’s a type of blanket description and lacks nuance. More granular descriptions of work culture outline strong or weak cultures in the first instance (strong meaning that there are ingrained rituals in behavior, weak meaning that there are few or none). From there, we have mission-aligned cultures and those that are misaligned, meaning that there are cultures where behaviours echo the mission of the establishment and others where we say one thing but do another.

Contemporary analyses of leadership understand that culture is hugely important, for it is the culture that determines the behaviour and behaviour that determines what actually happens on the ground. To use an overquoted trope by Peter Drucker, “culture eats strategy for breakfast” (it’s the breakfast part I like the most in that quote!). It is not the words that count but the behaviours, and in particular those behaviours that take place when no one is looking, for that is when we are at our most vulnerable and truthful, away from the oftentimes sanitised veneer of public discourse. Creating a mission-aligned, strong culture requires a real effort: community members have to commit to contributing to the common good and have to have established a moral code where respect, kindness, open listening, understanding, and assuming good intentions are venerated, respected and practiced.

Influencing a mission-aligned culture is one thing, the other is creating a strong culture. This usually means creating a set of rituals to strengthen the culture and create habits that are mission-aligned and change behaviours.

To give a simple example from the Harvard Business School, in 2006, CEO Alan Mulally joined Ford with a “$12.7 billion loss” and “a culture of distrust and secrecy. Fearing blame or punishment, executives hid problems in their divisions until they turned into crises.”

In his weekly leadership meetings, Mulally publicly encouraged those reports who presented problems they were having. Rather than create a culture of fear and accusation, he modelled appreciation for transparency and sharing. Ford’s stock price rose massively because of this. (Coleman, 2025). It was by changing the ritual of the weekly meetings and creating new habits of transparency and vulnerability that Mulally shifted the culture and, eventually, the business result.

To give a personal example, I always start my leadership meetings with a thinking routine on leadership, and make sure that it’s someone different from the team leading it each time, to remind ourselves why we are here, and to model distributed leadership. The result has been the whole team owning the strategic plan and the organisation’s challenges, rather than a culture where the CEO thinks he or she or they are doing it all by themselves (and wants to take all the credit). The result has been a strategic plan that is spread across the whole organisation and is owned collectively. That comes from rituals to strengthen the culture. One other thing I always do is when I see someone presenting to the group and people are on their emails, I stop the presentation and tell them to fold their laptops, to reinforce a culture of respect and listening. The result? More engagement and recall of what is being said and better discussions. If you are in meetings where no one is listening to presentations, please, do something about it, it’s important! 

If you are caught up in a strongly mission- misaligned culture, or a weak institutional culture, step away from simply branding it as “toxic”; exercise the power you have to stay focused on the higher values of the organisation and look for rituals that undo negativity and fear to create a more fluid, regenerative force. This is particularly important in places of learning where the focus should always be on self-actualisation and growth. By giving people the benefit of the doubt, forgiving acts of resentment and not partaking in undesirable behaviours while, on the contrary, focussing on and bringing attention to those behaviours we wish to see flourish, the culture will be more mission-aligned, and once rituals have been put in place to do this systematically, it will also be stronger. 

(image from Freepik)

Digital Citizenship

The great 20th Century philosopher Hannah Arendt argued that it is not really possible to be a global citizen, as citizenship is necessarily tied to a nation-state. Of course, she was right: claiming one is a global citizen as a philosophical position is all very well, but our actions and their repercussions tend to resonate within the confines (or liberating) parameters of one’s passport—an altogether different state of affairs.

The whole concept of global citizenship is core to international education, the idea being that we aim to educate young people to see themselves as interconnected in a planetary whole, not separated by nation-state allegiance. It’s not a simple project, and one that is possibly more challenged in 2025 than it was some 30 years ago: globalisation is collapsing in a number of ways, politically and economically, and therefore the concept of supra-state nationalism needs to be rethought.

Digital citizenship (something Arendt probably would have thought even less possible than Global Citizenship) is the idea that when online, we should subscribe to certain ontological behaviours and that, educationally, we should nurture a set of competences that allow students to flourish in a digitized world. These include collaborative and networking skills, ethical practice, and innovative thinking.

In fact, perhaps the idea of digital citizenship is more accurate to today’s world than global citizenship: if there’s one thing that unites humans today, it is surely the massive and widespread use of technological platforms, devices, and social media.

The World Economic Forum’s “future of jobs” report puts the following as the fastest growing professions: big data specialists; fintech engineers; AI and machine learning specialists; and software and applications developers. However, an education for digital citizenship means paying attention to many of the core competences of any meaningful learning journey: critical thinking so that the plethora of sound bites on social media might be looked at with some discernment and circumspection; self-awareness allowing for some cognisance of one’s digital footprint; restraint and kindness so that online behaviour is wise and measured; contextual knowledge in the form of understanding data security.

So whether one is a citizen of the world, a citizen of a single country, or a digital citizen, the tenets of a good education will continue to be related to the development of fundamental concepts, behaviours, attitudes, and skills that strengthen the individual and the group to think independently and interact humanely.

Photo by Blake Guidry on Unsplash

Rebalancing curriculum means rebalancing assessment

The 2021 Futures of Education report is a white paper on the major themes that educational providers should be focussing on as we head into the second quarter of the 21st Century. What are they?

In the 1990s, the Delors report pointed to four broad global areas in which education needed to develop: learning to know, learning to learn, learning to be and learning to live together. Some thirty years later, after a number of changes to environmental, economic and geopolitical spheres, the focus has shifted to three broad areas about rebalancing our relationship with each other, the planet and technology.

The idea of rebalance is interesting, it implies a recalibration in the face of disruption that has become excessive in many ways.

The movement to increase our understanding of social and emotional learning is a response to rising anxiety, depression and isolation that has become exacerbated by social pressure and polarisation, mainly through online interactions and the gap between virtual and actual reality. We need to rebalance the way we see ourselves and others, to bring a more authentic, mindful and spiritual focus to intrapersonal and interpersonal relationships. From an assessment perspective, this means designing learning experiences that allow students to develop their emotional quotient, and assessment protocols that take the emotional wellbeing of students into account rather than being mindless high stakes mass testing that drive students into a state of panic and anxiety.

Rebalancing our relationship with the planet is about seeking to inspire students to take on an ethical philosophical position that is respectful of the environment and is conscious of the footprint major financial and lifestyle decisions can create. A balanced relationship with the planet is also one where patterns of immigration and social interaction are understood as part of a globalised economy in which intercultural competences are developed. Assessing this means creating opportunities for students to develop their global citizenship, to show understanding of systems thinking that explain geo-economic interdependencies and to assess – as well as model – environmentally sustainable solution-finding to real world problems.

Rebalancing our relationship with technology involves continuing to work with powerful technologies to advance learning but also dialling back, re-equilibrating the way that we live with screens, seeking experiences that are human, face-to-face and interactive. As we seek guardrails for artificial intelligence, and understand the increasing and no doubt future importance of data protection, providing students with an education that prepares them for this will further empower them. Educating to live with diverse tools and resources is as much a question of mindset development and technical skill: creativity, criticality, understanding systems and processes conceptually and instilling an ethical dimension into our use of technology can be done through curated learning experiences such as projects and hypothetical scenarios that push students to use philosophical thinking to unpack dilemmas and find solutions that are pragmatic and ethical. In fact, a marvellous subject that does this is philosphy.

At the end of the day, it’s easy to get swept up in what look like technical solutions to technical problems: learning to live together requires conflict resolution, learning to respect the planet requires learning about the sustainable development goals and learning to thrive with new technologies means learning how to code. However, this is actually not only narrow but possibly misleading: to go to the root of the competences that are needed to flourish in such a world, the age-old constructs of critical thinking, creativity, and ethics are needed, for they will be applied in countless different scenarios, many of which do not exist at the present. The future will render redundant many technical skills, but not deep, transversal competences. Assessment systems that bring students’ deep thinking to the surface, that stimulate the growth of individual strengths and passions, that reward creativity, curiosity and resilience, will go further in creating future fitness than any concentration of technical training.

Assessment needs to be reformed, but not in a radically different and new way, more in such a manner that we rebalance it, to recognise, nurture and reward many of the extraordinary things that young people do already, that actually bring out competences for the future but have not been seen to do so in a traditional, academically top-heavy testing system. We need to rebalance our relationship with each other, the world and technology, and we need to rebalance assessment with the human story young people are telling us already, and have been for many years for so many of the answers to our questions are looking us in the face already.

Rebalancing assessment to rebalance education

The 2021 Futures of Education report is a white paper on the major themes that educational providers should be focussing on as we head into the second quarter of the 21st Century. What are they?

In the 1990s, the Delors report pointed to four broad global areas in which education needed to develop: learning to know, learning to learn, learning to be and learning to live together. Some thirty years later, after a number of changes to environmental, economic and geopolitical spheres, the focus has shifted to three broad areas about rebalancing our relationship with each other, the planet and technology.

The idea of rebalance is interesting, it implies a recalibration in the face of disruption that has become excessive in many ways.

The movement to increase our understanding of social and emotional learning is a response to rising anxiety, depression and isolation that has become exacerbated by social pressure and polarisation, mainly through online interactions and the gap between virtual and actual reality. We need to rebalance the way we see ourselves and others, to bring a more authentic, mindful and spiritual focus to intrapersonal and interpersonal relationships. From an assessment perspective, this means designing learning experiences that allow students to develop their emotional quotient, and assessment protocols that take the emotional wellbeing of students into account rather than being mindless high stakes mass testing that drive students into a state of panic and anxiety.

Rebalancing our relationship with the planet is about seeking to inspire students to take on an ethical philosophical position that is respectful of the environment and is conscious of the footprint major financial and lifestyle decisions can create. A balanced relationship with the planet is also one where patterns of immigration and social interaction are understood as part of a globalised economy in which intercultural competences are developed. Assessing this means creating opportunities for students to develop their global citizenship, to show understanding of systems thinking that explain geo-economic interdependencies and to assess – as well as model – environmentally sustainable solution-finding to real world problems.

Rebalancing our relationship with technology involves continuing to work with powerful technologies to advance learning but also dialling back, re-equilibrating the way that we live with screens, seeking experiences that are human, face-to-face and interactive. As we seek guardrails for artificial intelligence, and understand the increasing and no doubt future importance of data protection, providing students with an education that prepares them for this will further empower them. Educating to live with diverse tools and resources is as much a question of mindset development and technical skill: creativity, criticality, understanding systems and processes conceptually and instilling an ethical dimension into our use of technology can be done through curated learning experiences such as projects and hypothetical scenarios that push students to use philosophical thinking to unpack dilemmas and find solutions that are pragmatic and ethical. In fact, a marvellous subject that does this is philosphy.

At the end of the day, it’s easy to get swept up in what look like technical solutions to technical problems: learning to live together requires conflict resolution, learning to respect the planet requires learning about the sustainable development goals and learning to thrive with new technologies means learning how to code. However, this is actually not only narrow but possibly misleading: to go to the root of the competences that are needed to flourish in such a world, the age-old constructs of critical thinking, creativity, and ethics are needed, for they will be applied in countless different scenarios, many of which do not exist at the present. The future will render redundant many technical skills, but not deep, transversal competences. Assessment systems that bring students’ deep thinking to the surface, that stimulate the growth of individual strengths and passions, that reward creativity, curiosity and resilience, will go further in creating future fitness than any concentration of technical training.

Assessment needs to be reformed, but not in a radically different and new way, more in such a manner that we rebalance it, to recognise, nurture and reward many of the extraordinary things that young people do already, that actually bring out competences for the future but have not been seen to do so in a traditional, academically top-heavy testing system. We need to rebalance our relationship with each other, the world and technology, and we need to rebalance assessment with the human story young people are telling us already, and have been for many years for so many of the answers to our questions are looking us in the face already.

Will Artificial Intelligence Really Replace Teachers?

Bill Gates recently claimed that humans won’t be needed for teaching within a decade. What makes him say that, and how true is it?

Like most people looking at AI, Gates is almost definitely referring to the substantive forecasts that are increasingly widespread on the exponential growth of AI power, complexity, and reach between now and 2030. The detailed June 2024 paper, “Situational Awareness: The Decade Ahead,” by the 23-year-old AI researcher wunderkind Leopold Aschenbrenner, is a central piece of writing to this effect. If you have not read it yet, I would definitely recommend it. It’s a 165-page essay that forecasts the rate of change (measured by order of magnitude) of AI computing power that we can expect by 2027 at the earliest, 2029 at the latest. Although the essay has its faults (a lot of jargon, some repetition – no one’s going to write a 165-page essay on anything without repetition) and slightly gauche, sweeping political statements, it is carried by formidable energy and some logical forecasting based on past patterns and historical examples, most especially the speed at which nuclear fission technology grew.

Chat GPT went through cycles of development from 2019 to 2020 to 2023, taking its thinking power from a preschooler to a high school student (where we pitch it at present). By 2027, the expectation is that it will be as intelligent as an engineer at a PhD level. Now, this opens up the rabbit hole of what we mean by intelligence, what about emotional intelligence, and so on, but let’s not go down that right now and stick to a rudimentary understanding of intelligence as technical problem-solving.

It is not so much the straight line of technical intelligence that will develop but, with the rise of agentic general artificial intelligence, the ability of AI to behave much more like an autonomous researcher than a simple chatbot. This will be the fundamental breakthrough: when AI can take decisions that are not responses to commands but part of a more elaborate project, and this will involve internal monologues, exchanging with other AI agents and essentially operating like a co-worker or project manager rather than a mere entity that executes commands one by one. This will happen through what Aschenbrenner calls “unhobbling,” in other words, coders and researchers will be able to iron out those few bottlenecks that are still preventing AI from being completely autonomous. He’s convinced that this will happen, mainly because it will be done by AI researchers and not human beings, and also because since the days of ChatGPT2, when hundreds of millions of dollars were being invested in AI development, we are heading to trillion-dollar investments in AI clusters and the very major impact such resource allocation will imply.

Somewhere between 2027 and 2030, we will be in the age of superintelligence, where companies will onboard agentic AI to develop reports, projects, business plans, and more; medical diagnoses will be done with not-yet-seen levels of accuracy, and students will work with AI tutors.

This leads us back to the original question, will AI really replace teachers?

My answer goes like this: today primary and middle school teachers are pedagogues whose main task is to socialise young children, enhance their language acquisition, life skills, and core literacies. The emotional, disciplinary, psychological, and social dimension of learning is scaffolded, necessarily (I would argue) by humans. It seems difficult to imagine how this will change. How could a non-carbon entity seriously do these things effectively? The very basis of primary education, social constructivism, is based on the idea of human contact and learning to live together. How satisfied and willing would parents be to have robots teaching their children how to play with other children, how to spell, and do basic arithmetic? Imagine how bizarre the appropriation of social cues would be if done by a machine. I’m not talking about occasional gimmicks with robot dogs or one or two automated programmes to supplement learning, I mean the entire teacher being removed and replaced by a robot or programme. I don’t believe that primary teachers, or middle school teachers, will see their work outsourced in the near future, and there’s not much in any serious forecast studies on AI to support that.

However, the pedagogy of high school is less resilient to the AI revolution. This is because teachers have been subordinated to a role whereby they are there primarily to help students do well on tests, prepare them for high-stakes examinations, and go through mark schemes and past papers with them. This is driven by the nature of the end of high school assessment, which is overwhelmingly dominated by a teach-to-the-test model. I’ve written about it at length in my open-access book, “Changing Assessment.” To be clear, high school teachers have so much more to offer, and one of the tragedies of this assessment design is that creativity, both in teachers and in students, is squandered because of the factory-line of test performance. I myself, as an end-of-high school Theory of Knowledge teacher, see the last months of the course dominated by the assessment model, for the simple reason that it is worth points, and those points will be needed by students to get the best possible IB, and that will have an effect on which university they are admitted to, and so on and so forth.

Currently, high school students use technology and AI where they can to help them learn, be it through online tutorials, such as Khan Academy, past examination question banks, or even very simple search engines like Google to find answers, strategies, and advice. Who can blame them? The point is that these aids will become increasingly powerful and at an exponential rate.

Therefore, I think that Gates is actually right about the end of high school, in any case, that the core function of examination preparation will be superseded by GenAI, and fairly sophisticated face-to-face examination tutoring will be superseded by superintelligent AI tutoring. This is why we should start integrating AI tutoring into high school, as part of the pedagogic voyage: why not complement the socio-emotive scaffolding of learning, so integral to human contact, with intentional and institutionalised student access to an artificial intelligence tutor to do further testing, corrections, practice runs, and simulations.

High school teaching will only be superseded by agentive superintelligence as long as it continues to be chained to the teach-to-the-test approach, as long as we insist on assessing students on declarative, lower-order factual recall through high-stakes testing. It is not by keeping technology out of schools and gatekeeping an archaic system that we will be empowering students or teachers for that matter; on the contrary, the whole question should be articulated around what students should be learning at the end of high school in order to be ready for a world where superintelligence will be part of society and the world of work.

We’ve actually known what students should be learning for a while, in any case, as long as we have identified that the future will be constituted by VUCA. The competences we need to engender and nourish, develop and value are lifelong learning (the ability to bounce back, reinvent yourself, show curiosity, and the ability to find elegant, aesthetic, and practical solutions within defined parameters), self-agency (critical thinking, standing on your own two feet, innovation and entrepreneurship, self-confidence, and risk-taking), interactive competencies (how to work in a team, with rapidly evolving resources, and with the environment), transdisciplinarity (knowing how to transfer skills across domains, to learn from one experience and see how the learning can be applied to another set of circumstances), and multi-literacies (having signature strengths and unique levels of mastery in given areas, allowing you to stand out from the crowd).

So, in the final analysis, as artificial intelligence grows, teaching should adapt, but for it to adapt, assessment must be reformed, and for assessment to be reformed, examination boards and universities have to accept new ways of recognising student gifts, and for that level of acceptance to take place, widespread educational reform at several levels is needed, more than ever.

Photo by Andrea De Santis on Unsplash

Future Fitness

As cycles of disruption to the economy, the environment as well as technological and political spheres are increasingly intense and rapid, developing those competences which will help us thrive in such a set of present and future circumstances has become particularly necessary.

The uncertainty of the future and the high chance that it will be increasingly volatile means that we need to prepare our students and ourselves for it. How? Rather than conceptualising this as the development of a mindset (“set” connotes something static) or a set of skills to develop (skills are technical aptitudes, tied to certain contexts, and they may or may not be transferable) and rather than talking about future readiness, which treats the future somewhat like an event (readiness carries the idea of being prepared for something discrete and contoured, like being ready for an announcement or a meeting),  the construct should be one of future fitness. 

When you are fit you’ve built up a state of stamina and resilience allowing you to thrive in an environment, not just an event, you are also in a physical and mental dimension of being that allows you to endure considerable stress while riding above it all in a type of flow, like a middle distance runner smiling as she or he crosses the finish line, a basketball player making the shot despite being in a state of exhaustion or a dancer who can concentrate on perfecting moves despite the huge stress bearing down on their body.

Future fit people have trained themselves to surf on the wave of uncertainty, to flourish in the gale of complexity, to find creative solutions in storms of volatility and to see through the clouds of ambiguity into the clarity of decision making and action. Future fitness is an ongoing way of being, allowing us to see the future not just tomorrow, but today – and to do so with confidence.

This is why we have to embed more creative and challenging scenarios in our assessments, create cultures where we orchestrate innovation and are not afraid to take risks. Disciplines such as the arts and sports do this, especially when taken seriously (but still joyously!) and this is why they must be recognised by the school’s formal assessment for the intrapersonal qualities they evoke. It is the broadening of assessment that will allow this.

A future fit person is constantly ideating, predicting and projecting what will come next, focussed on the unknown and constantly re-evaluating whatever might be known in the unknown, ready to jump into that void to find out what’s there. Courses in entrepreneurship and systems thinking can do this, which is why we are developing one in our new strategic plan.

One of my mentors and a person I was lucky enough to learn under is the coach Robert Dilts, whose background is in  neurolinguistic programming. He was the first person I’ve heard use the term, but since then, I’ve adopted it and see it as a vital construct to reckon with as we consider the ultimate purpose of leadership and education, which is preparing for what comes next.

What future fitness are you developing in your life?

(Image by Pexels from Pixabay)