The only education model that doesn’t work is the one we’re using

Jane Shaw
6 min readJul 28, 2020

It’s at odds with all we know about learning — but here’s why we stick with it.

Girl in red playing with sand.
Image by Mi Pham via Unsplash

There’s a model of education that most of us have grown up with. ‘Traditional’ education is so widespread that many of us don’t even realise the array of other learning philosophies that exist.

Yet there are abundant alternatives. Some schools and parents follow The Montessori Method; others identify as Reggio-inspired. More ‘radical’ philosophies include self-directed learning, democratic schools and unschooling.

It doesn’t stop there — delve deeper and you’ll quickly discover nature play and risky play; loose parts play and tinkering; open-ended play and anji play — the list is as diverse as children themselves.

When you start looking at this multitude of approaches, four things stand out.

Firstly, there are more similarities than differences in these ‘alternative’ models. The names and details change, but the principles are from the same stable.

Secondly, these approaches work. Children learn, and they learn well, when exposed to these learning philosophies. Naturally, there is variation; success and failure depend on the quality of the implementation, and some methods are more suited than others to certain children and families. But, in general terms, the results speak for themselves.

Thirdly, the reasons why these models work are well understood. We’ve learnt a lot in the past 50 years about how learning happens, and how children’s minds work. Talk to psychologists, learning experts and child development specialists, and they will explain the importance of intrinsic motivation over reward systems; of exploration over rote learning; of trust and relationships; and of movement, art and music. They all agree: children learn through play.

The fundamental principles of these models are remarkably similar. They:

  • trust children
  • assume that children are motivated learners
  • focus is on learning, not teaching
  • are, usually, child-led and self-directed, rather than adult-led
  • involve exploration, investigation and testing rather than rote learning
  • assess attainment and progress through observation; not testing
  • focus on the whole child — arts and music, outdoor and physical activities are seen as essential for learning
  • recognise that children learn from other children
  • treat interaction with the natural world as integral
  • put relationships at the core of learning — teachers often stay with the same group for years, and parents and the wider community are at the heart of the learning journey.

Fourthly, there is one method of education that is glaringly at odds with every other approach. This method does not adhere to these tried, tested and proven principles. It is a method of education that is not based on what we know about how children learn. There is only one method that considers play as a treat; as a break from real learning; and as tool for reward and punishment.

That method of education is the one that prevails in the Western world - ‘traditional education’.

It’s a teaching philosophy that puts The Curriculum before the child. It assumes that children can - and should, and will - reach pre-ordained milestones at fixed points.

Child development, and the psychology of learning, dictate that this model shouldn’t work. And when we look at the ‘results’ it produces? It’s clear that it doesn’t.

It is a system in which ‘motivating’ and ‘engaging’ children is a battle. It is a system associated with childhood anxiety and stress. It is a system bemoaned by employers for producing young adults who enter the workforce without the skills they need.

Any one of those factors should be a warning that something is very wrong. But one stands out.

“It is a system in which motivating and engaging children to learn is a constant battle.”

That is terrifying.

Learning is the very reason childhood exists. Look at evolution, look at history, look at countries which are not ‘developed’, and look at children who have not experienced ‘the system’.

Childhood IS learning.

Children love to learn - babies moving a teether from hand to hand, toddlers intently examining a puddle, pre-schoolers absorbing TV programmes like Octonauts or Deadly 60… or school-age unschoolers who decide that the time has come to start reading.

So when does this love of learning diminish, or cease? An unschooler, or member of a self-directed school, will tell you that it doesn’t.

Children do not lose their love of learning. We teach it out of them.

To have created a system in which children need to be cajoled to learn is to have created a monster.

We owe it to our children to start asking some difficult questions. Because what if modern day schooling isn’t providing our children with an opportunity to learn - what if, instead, it is stifling natural curiosity?

And yet, if we start down this route then where do we stop? What about ‘play’? It is often described as ‘the work of childhood’ - but is treated as something for the youngest children, until they are ready for ‘proper’ learning.

Those in US kindergartens argue that four is too young for worksheets. Those in British reception classes query if five is too early to transition to formal learning. Those in Australia worry that six is too young to teach reading.

But the issue isn’t the age at which formal learning becomes OK. The true problem is that the formalised education system is fundamentally not OK. It does not reflect what we know about learning, whether our children are six or 16.

The question should not be about when is the right time to take away ‘play’. The question we should be asking is why we remove the opportunity for self-directed, exploratory learning (which often happens to be play-based).

More worryingly, this is no longer simply a philosophy of education. It has become a philosophy of childhood. The removal of choice, of trust, of self-directed exploration does not stop at the school gates. As societies have become used to this educational model it has started to permeate far deeper than school.

Is it coincidence that the societies which do not trust children to lead their own learning are the very same societies that do not trust their children to climb trees or cross the road?

Is it coincidence that these are the societies which measure the success of our young people by their academic achievements — yet for ourselves, as adults, we want a more holistic approach, prioritising happiness over ‘success’ or aspiring to switch our ‘successful’ careers for jobs we love?

The evidence, the research, and our children themselves tell us that the majority of learning approaches - those that share the same basic principles - have got it right. Learning should be self-directed. It should be holistic, involving the whole body, the whole person, the whole community. It should allow for differences — in speed, in learning style, and in motivation.

So why does an outlier, an anomaly, continue as the mainstay of Western educational systems?

The answers are simple. Habit. And change is hard. The few who succeed in the current system become the leaders and decision makers, so they stick with the status quo that didn’t do them too much harm.

But perhaps now is the time for change. We are in a time when there is a new necessity for outdoor play. Perhaps that will be the catalyst.

Because the need for change is great.

Play heals. Play lets our children work through their experiences and traumas, through change and strange times. Our children need play more than ever.

In 2020 our children’s experiences have become more diverse than ever. Some have spent months at home, hot-housed by a pushy parent. Others have sat in front of a screen for nine hours a day; while still more have experienced the beauty of freedom, and self-directed learning and play.

As these children return to school it will be more difficult than ever to create homogeneous learning plans, and to make children sit at desks. No one wins when we try to find one cap to fit all these children.

Child-led learning empowers. It restores the self-esteem of children who have been left behind. It prevents frustration in those who have leapt ahead; and offers an outlet for those who resent that they are once again cooped up, caged and controlled. Child-led learning allows every child to fly.

Our children need connection — with each other, with community, with trusted adults. Genuine connection comes from exploration, support and understanding; not from being told what to do.

Even before 2020, learning desperately needed a new normal. The time to reject this anomaly, this outlier, this habit, had already arrived. It’s an experimental approach that had already failed, but no one had quite got around to doing anything about it.

But the need for change just became a lot more urgent.

Our children don’t just deserve better. They desperately need better.

Originally published at https://www.happyfamiliesplan.co.uk on July 28, 2020.

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Jane Shaw

Journalist/author. Founder, EthicalBusinessMarketing.com + The Happy Families Plan. A bit obsessed with happiness. Sustainable living, childhood, family life.