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  Of course, one of the major selling points of the PISA tests is that it allows us to identify success in a particular area of education, and learn lessons from other systems that appear to be doing this better. Certainly that is what politicians say they’re doing. But this is sadly not always the case. Politicians (along with the rest of us) have been known to cherry-pick evidence; to choose to mention only the data or the features of top-performing systems that back up their pre-existing ideas, and ignore the evidence that throws doubt on their proposed reforms.11 It is therefore particularly important that the wider public know a little more about what these successful systems are doing, and what the analysis that’s been conducted on the data suggests, so that we can hold our politicians to account before they conduct expensive and potentially ineffective reforms.

  My Motivation and Approach

  There is information about all of these matters out there already, but not enough people are reading it. It’s in the form of country reports and cross-country analysis by the OECD (who produce new publications that I want to read at a rate I can't keep up with), and additional reviews, analysis and commentary by consultants, academics and journalists.12 This book includes some of this analysis, and its conclusions are consistent with the conclusions drawn by the OECD – but they are not driven by it. While the analyses by various consultants and academics are immensely valuable and carried out by people far more talented than myself, they offer only half of the picture. They include the effect sizes, but leave out the people. They can tell you what correlates with what, but not how each thing interacts with a culture. You can learn about the ‘what’, but not the ‘why’ or

  the ‘how’.13

  As I read about ‘top-performing’ countries and their education systems from rainy England, I craved a more holistic, visceral understanding of them. ‘What does that look like in the classroom?’ I wondered. ‘Do the Singaporean parents think they have a good education system, or is the grass always greener?’ ‘What does it mean for the children in Finland that they don’t start school until aged seven, and would I want my own children to go to school there?’ I could read all about the governmental approaches of various nations in these OECD reports, and about the effects of specific policies in the academic literature, but I couldn’t find out how education worked as a whole in each particular country context without seeing it for myself; I couldn’t join the dots to see the bigger picture.

  At the time I was asking myself these questions, I was just finishing my masters and had no permanent job, no mortgage, and no children; nothing to keep me in the country. So I decided to go on what has since been described by a friend as my ‘geeky gap year’. I started drafting emails to teachers in top-performing systems abroad whose addresses I’d found on the internet, asking if I could come and help out in their schools for a bit, and asking whether I could stay with them for a few weeks too (no wonder my mum wasn’t a fan of this plan at the time). I then realised that no one would say yes in case I was a lunatic, so I set up my iPad and made a little video introducing myself to would-be hosts, attempting to appear as sane as possible.

  Of the top 10 PISA performers at the time, I chose Shanghai and Singapore because they got phenomenal scores, Japan because it was a large country rather than a small city-state, Finland because it has until recently been one of the only Western countries to outperform the East Asians and Canada because they performed well despite being culturally and geographically diverse. I sent out emails to teachers in Finland, the first country on my intended itinerary, and waited. I was half thinking that no one would reply and that I’d have to revert to my backup plan of sitting in coffee shops in Helsinki with a big sign saying ‘I’d like to hear your views on education, come and talk to me!’ when, much to my delight and amazement, a teacher called Kristiina emailed me back – we’ll meet her in the next chapter. I found educators all over the world to be remarkably generous and open-minded in welcoming me into their schools, and I owe them a huge debt of gratitude for their essential role in the making of this book.

  My approach in each of the countries I visited was to stay with educators to get a deeper understanding of their lifestyle and culture; to visit schools through informal means to avoid being directed towards ‘sparkly’ schools that were unrepresentative of the rest of the system; and to stay in one of the schools in each place for at least a week until the staff got to know me and felt relaxed in my company.14 I spent about four weeks in each country and three of those inside schools; sometimes teaching, sometimes helping out, always asking questions. Some of my interviews were formal and recorded, others were informal chats on the subway on the way home, or over a bowl of noodles. I talked to enthusiastic school caretakers, distinguished school leaders, frantic high-school students and despairing parents. I learnt a huge amount about different approaches to (and ideas behind) education this way, and I will share some of this with you in this book as I take you on a tour of education in some of the world’s ‘top-performing’ systems.

  What Matters? My Outlook

  When I first started giving talks about my work at conferences, a common question at the end of my presentation was the kind of question that is actually a comment: ‘Why should we care about PISA? There is more to education than test results.’ This is an excellent point; if we don’t care about PISA, then we certainly shouldn’t care what countries that do well in PISA are doing. It is an excellent and oft-made point, because there is a perception that the furore around PISA results has caused governments to focus on a very narrow measure of education, to the detriment of other important educational goals, such as developing children’s knowledge of the arts, their appreciation of citizenship and their personal and social attributes. I don’t doubt that this is happening in England and some parts of America, and I don’t defend it; it is an example of governments giving PISA rankings too much weight, rather than using the broader data as helpful information to inform the direction of their education systems. Nevertheless, I don’t think this makes PISA (or TIMSS) irrelevant.

  Just as most people would agree that there is more to education than reading, maths and science, most people would agree that this broader education ought to include reading, maths and science. One of the questions I set off to research was whether top-performing PISA systems only did so well in these subjects at the expense of everything else, or whether there are ways of bringing about improved understanding and ability in maths, reading and science without hugely increasing the time spent on them. It is important that young people reach at least a basic level in these subjects to prepare them for their lives after school. And at the moment, in the UK, we are not preparing all of them sufficiently: 17 per cent of British 15–16-year-olds who took the PISA test in 2012 did not attain the baseline proficiency level in reading (Level 2), which means the OECD consider them to ‘lack the essential skills needed to participate effectively and productively in society’. In mathematics, the number failing to reach the baseline level was 22 per cent, which is more than one in five.

  Box 1: What does Level 2 actually mean?

  Failing to reach Level 2 means not being able to answer questions like this:

  Level 2 PISA maths question:

  On one trip, Helen rode 4 km in the first 10 minutes and then 2 km in the next 5 minutes.

  Which one of the following statements is correct?

  A. Helen’s average speed was greater in the first 10 minutes than in the next 5 minutes.

  B. Helen’s average speed was the same in the first 10 minutes and in the next 5 minutes.

  C. Helen’s average speed was less in the first 10 minutes than in the next 5 minutes.

  D. It is not possible to tell anything about Helen’s average speed from the information given.

  In reading, almost one in five 15–16-year-olds are working at the following level, or below:

  Level 1a PISA reading question:

  BRUSHING YOUR TEETH

  Do our teeth become cleaner and cl
eaner the longer and harder we brush them?

  British researchers say no. They have actually tried out many different alternatives, and ended up with the perfect way to brush your teeth. A two-minute brush, without brushing too hard, gives the best result. If you brush hard, you harm your tooth enamel and your gums without loosening food remnants or plaque.

  Bente Hansen, an expert on tooth brushing, says that it is a good idea to hold the toothbrush the way you hold a pen. ‘Start in one corner and brush your way along the whole row,’ she says. ‘Don’t forget your tongue either! It can actually contain loads of bacteria that may cause bad breath.’

  What is this article about?

  A. The best way to brush your teeth.

  B. The best kind of toothbrush to use.

  C. The importance of good teeth.

  D. The way different people brush their teeth.

  As you can see from the questions included here, the baseline proficiency level is pretty basic, especially for someone who has been in school for 11 years and is close to the end of their compulsory education. The OECD hasn’t plucked this level out of thin air; it is based on studies of young people in Australia, Canada, Denmark and Switzerland, which followed them over a number of years and found that those who performed below this baseline level (Level 2) often faced severe disadvantages in their transition into higher education and the labour force.15 This is not only a problem for the economy. Whatever you want to do with your life – becoming a pro skateboarder, opening your own restaurant or starting a family – lacking these basic skills makes your life more difficult and reduces the opportunities available to you.

  The proportion of students that achieve at least these basic levels in any system is therefore one outcome measured as part of PISA which I believe to be important – but that isn’t all we’ll look at. Another key consideration is what proportion of young people achieve the highest PISA levels – it would be no good having a country where everyone knew the basics but no one was brilliant at solving complicated problems. This in measured by another OECD metric: the proportion of young people who attain Levels 5 and 6. The most famous measures are, of course, the average scores that give us the headlines and act as a simple figure to summarise each country’s performance.

  But we are not quite done. How would you feel if every child that scored above a Level 6 was from a wealthy background, and every child that missed the baseline was living on or below the poverty line? That wouldn’t be quite fair, would it? While much of the cause of the worldwide association between background and results is due to students’ home lives, education systems can make this worse or they can make this better (though they needn’t be held responsible for fixing it completely). This measure – the impact of student background on outcomes – is called ‘equity’. Along with the proportion of students who attain at least a L2, the proportion who attain L5 and L6 and the average measures, we have quite enough to be getting on with. Where relevant, though, I will also bring in things which are harder to measure such as children’s mental health and reported happiness as we journey through our five countries.

  Caring about particular outcomes does not automatically reveal the way in which it’s best to pursue them. There’s a key distinction between your values or preferred goals, and ‘what works’ to bring these desired outcomes about. The former should be shouted from the rooftops by anyone with a stake in education – parents, teachers, politicians and business people. Their values and goals are valid and important in any democratic country – but how should those outcomes be brought about? That is a question that has to be answered by looking to the world; looking at the evidence. By looking at the numbers, the associations and the analysis, but also by watching the children, listening to the teachers, looking for the big ideas and connecting all of these to work towards a more complete picture of how it might all fit together.

  In this book, I will share with you a part of that bigger picture. I will join up some of the dots to show you what education looks like in five of the world’s most celebrated education systems, and to give some clues as to why they are so successful. You’ll learn a bit about their history, elements of their culture, how they deal with the challenge of educating children of different abilities, the various ways in which governments make teaching attractive and how parenting styles and attitudes affect their children’s results. You’ll also learn how psychology can help explain what underlies the success of their approaches. Come with me to Finland.

  FINLAND

  Chapter 2: Kindergartens, Parables and Professionals in Finland

  Tyvestä puuhun noustaan.

  A tree is climbed from its base. (Finnish Proverb)

  ‘Oh I’m sorry I’m late, that’s not very Finnish of me!’ Kristiina hurried over to find me under the clock at the central station in Helsinki, just a couple of minutes after our arranged meeting time. Kristiina is a typical Finn in many other ways; modest, articulate, reliable and quite private, and yet she had taken a punt on me – an unknown English woman who wanted to come and teach at her school – and had given me the confidence that my trip was not such a hare-brained idea after all. We chatted excitedly about plans for my month there, including my teaching schedule and Zumba class, and were then joined for tea by Elsa, a friend of hers who was also a teacher. Both spoke perfect English, of course, and their only English-language queries were about the names of obscure plants that I hadn’t even heard of.

  Back at the house, I was welcomed with a ‘show’ by Kristiina’s two blonde daughters, Elina, six, and Venla, four, who leapt around the sitting room, twirling and dancing. Later that evening, I had the first of my ‘Finnish lessons’ with Elina. Yes, she was six, and no, she couldn’t quite read yet, but she had a picture book of everyday objects with the Finnish name written under each one, and she traced the letters with her finger as she ‘read’ each word. ‘Sateenvarjo,’ (umbrella) she said, and then looked at me expectantly. ‘Sateenvarjo,’ I dutifully repeated.

  Elina hadn’t been taught to read yet, because she hadn’t yet started school. In Finland, children don’t start school until the August of the year they turn seven (so the starting age ranges from six-and-a-half to seven-and-a-half). Before then, nearly all children attend a year of kindergarten, which is where Elina spent her day, and many also attend state-subsidised preschool in the years leading up to that. The next morning we dropped off Venla, Elina’s little sister, at one of these preschools, and I went in with Kristiina as she needed to have a chat with one of the teachers. The courtyard we walked through was full of sandy children in bobble hats, bright coats and wellies, running around, pouring water through little plastic windmills and digging holes in the sandpit with great concentration. On the door there was a sign asking a question, surrounded by lots of words that made no sense to me (despite my Finnish lessons with Elina), and I asked Kristiina what it meant when we passed it again. ‘It means, “You only played today?” and it gives all the reasons why play is helpful for children. Children don’t do formal learning at desks in preschool or kindergarten, they learn through playing.’

  ‘How can that be?’ I thought to myself. ‘How can 15-year-olds from Finland be coming near the top in international tests of reading, maths and science when all they did was play until they were seven? Surely they ought to be a couple of years behind teenagers in England (who start school at five), not ahead… ’

  So I hit the books. First of all, the focus on play in the early years isn’t solely because they want children to enjoy their childhood – it is a deliberate strategy chosen by the Finns, based on research showing the benefits of play for children’s physical, cognitive, social and emotional development.16 The kindergarten year does aim to prepare children for reading and mathematics, but it does so through ‘preparatory activities’ rather than outright teaching.17 What does this mean?

  In addition to a curriculum that aims to develop children’s social skills, positive self-concept and ability to reflect on right and wron
g, Finnish children are introduced to activities and environments in which they can develop the understanding, skills and attitudes required for learning to read and do maths. The National Curriculum for the preschool age group notes that ‘the basis for emerging literacy is that children have heard and listened, they have been heard, they have spoken and been spoken to, people have discussed things with them, and that they have asked questions and received answers.’ They do this through discussions of fairy tales, stories, poems and rhymes, and through encouraging and supporting children in their own attempts to read and write.

  One such fairy tale may be that of the Finnish Mother of Waters, who gave birth into the sea to a fully-grown man: Väinämöinen. She had been pregnant for 700 years, so her baby had reached maturity already, and from the day of his birth he had great wisdom, a well-painted forehead and a long white beard. He had no need of swaddling and no need of teaching. Normal children don’t have beards, and they do need formal teaching. But the question remains: when is the best time to start?

  Starting School Late (Playing is Working for a Child)

  The Finns have one of the highest literacy rates in the world, but this doesn’t rule out the possibility that their late school start has a negative influence on children’s later reading skills – it could be that their formal education (once they begin it) somehow compensates for their late start, or that there’s something about the culture that overcomes the Finns’ misguided romantic idea about children’s need to play. Historically there is a strong basis for universal literacy; as long ago as the sixteenth century you weren’t able to marry unless you could read a section of religious text, and more recently Finns have demonstrated their love of reading by annually borrowing an average of 18 books per person from libraries, more than any other country in the world. We might therefore expect Finnish children to be good at reading at age 15 anyway, despite the fact that they are not required to learn until they’re seven.