On the taboos of ability

and some suggestions on what we can do about it

Photo by ALAN DE LA CRUZ on Unsplash

It’s always been strange to me that in a profession so bounded by measurement and data, we are reluctant to have conversations about student ability. If you want to test my assumption, jump onto X and start a conversation about streaming. If you’re really up for a pile-on, use the phrase ability grouping. I’ve been told that there’s really no such thing as ability. I’ve been told that the TEEP recommendation that cognitive load theory be taught as part of initial teacher education is an example of biological determinism. It sometimes feels like ‘normal distribution’ is not a term one can say in polite teacher company.

Two different people I respect have put me onto the work of Dr Gary Marks¹. To summarise my novice’s understanding of some fairly complex stuff, he says that modern society values experts who can apply knowledge to solve problems. Makes sense so far. But he says that under modernisation theory, class, ethnicity and gender become less important and status doesn’t have to be directly inherited from parents — I don’t mean genetically, I mean actually. In other words, criteria for success are universalised and in his research, this means that ability is rewarded, rather than being rich-cis-het-white-male etc.

Marks’ research draws from two big, very longitudinal data sets from the US that did measure the general intelligence of its subjects. Indeed, it does seem as though SES has become less predictive of academic and occupational attainment over time. The idea of occupational attainment was interesting to me. Marks didn’t find strong evidence that income follows these same patterns and it may not be a surprise considering that occupational attainment is more about prestige: the guy who fixes my toilet probably earns more than my university lecturer. It’s interesting how little data we collect on intelligence, and occupation is sometimes used as a predictor.

I’ve often thought that our response to the way we deal with students with lower ability, at a policy level, is quite radical. Broadly, the first way we have tried to address students at the lower end of the bell curve has been to encourage teachers to give less support and instruction, in the form of problematic differentiation. The implications are twofold — one is that with different classwork, students are not keeping up with curriculum, and two is that with differentiation, our most vulnerable students get very little quality whole-class instruction. The requirement that they are able to complete this differentiated work independently raises questions about low expectations and really, whether new learning is occurring at all.

A more recent idea that has been floated — and that keeps rearing its head — is the one where students progress only when they have mastered learning outcomes. This one doesn’t pass the (teachers at the) pub test. I agree that all students are teachable and in principle, I agree with mastery. But in a policy sense, it’s a cheap shot: take an idea that nobody can disagree with, namely that students should master content and skills before they’re moved on; then leave no workable suggestions as to how one might keep a historically struggling 16-year-old in a class with 12-year-olds at his reading age. It’s a clever sleight of hand — a neat way of dismissing the fact that multi-tiered systems of support (MTSS) cost money. Just throw it back to a teacher of 29 students instead.

On a related note, I visited Mastery Schools a few weeks ago and saw this principle in action. Students were indeed achieving mastery before they moved on, as the name of the school suggests. This model takes an enormous amount of consistency, effort and staffing. Students at Mastery were met at their point of need but were not kept below their stage. Many schools have great MTSS, centrally planned curriculum and good coaching programs. But on a broader scale, the scale required for real reform, a model like Mastery is currently outside the policy imagination and the operational capability of most schools and systems, even though its lean structure and lack of ‘fluff’ make it cheaper to run.

Michael Roberts, the managing director, quipped to me that every day was Groundhog Day at Mastery. The students I saw on three campuses were responsive, engaged and audibly learning. For anyone wondering whether traditionally disengaged kids can sit through a morning of capital D.I., I’ll answer by saying that Mastery Schools have a waiting list and families have been known to move interstate to get in. Every child is seen as teachable and using highly consistent, evidence-based programs and instructional methods means that not only the lesson lottery but the instructional lottery is won. The ability conversation here is somewhat moot.

So if Marks' findings are to be incorporated into policy thinking, the way I see it, three things need to happen.

1. We need to have a conversation about ability. Some students have more, some have less. If we are committed to students reaching their optimal potential, that might cost money via intervention that doesn’t equate to missed curriculum.

2. Leaders need professional learning about how they can restructure their schools to provide true MTSS. I have seen it done, but it needs both knowledge and courage.

3. We need to focus on upskilling teachers about how to support low-ability students in the classroom. This means core content in initial teacher education and professional learning investment in things like cognitive load theory and adaptive teaching for current teachers.

4. We need better safety nets. We have created a society where the intelligent are rewarded. The gap will widen the more meritocratic and technocratic society becomes. Unpopular take, but true.

I’ve deliberately steered away from disability here. One controversial idea a day is enough and I’m not keen to get into diagnostic inflation, medicalisation, inclusion or any other discursive hotbeds. Most students can learn, and most teachers can teach, but brilliant Tier 1 instruction (assuming that is happening) still might not be enough. My ideas here are simple but perhaps difficult to execute at scale. It seems like we are solving our way out of a poorly defined problem.

What I do know is that sweeping ability under the policy rug is not working. Socioeconomic status was a large influence in the past, but it seems as though its impact is diminishing — which is great because SES is out of teachers’ control. Unfortunately, despite the rhetoric, SES has often been used as a defence of low expectations. But now, leaders and teachers may need to redirect their attention to the insides of classrooms. High variability in student ability requires low variability of instructional practices. We know where the weight of evidence lies.

1. H/T Dr Sally Larsen and Prof. Scott Eacott.