As we continue to develop our system-wide thinking about assessment, it’s important that teachers and leaders understand the underlying concepts we’re dealing with. In order to motivate and challenge all students, it makes good sense to try to distinguish between attainment and progress. This allows us to give value to students making strides with their learning regardless of their starting point. Schools have made valiant efforts to develop assessment language and processes to measure progress and to report this to parents. Not everyone can get the top marks but everyone can make progress. That’s the idea. But does it work?
The idea of progress only works if we’re clear about what it means – and only if we give it the weight the concept can sustain.
If we have something absolute like the time it takes to run a 5K race or how far we can jump in long jump, progress is measurable: we measure it in the scale of the time or distance that we use for the thing itself. If I’m trying to lose weight – I can measure it at various points and use that to gauge a sense of progress.
However, many of the measures we use in education are only meaningful in relation to the performance of the cohort. This was true of levels and is true of GCSE grades 1-9. It’s also true, by definition, of standardised test scores. Essentially these are all bell-curve position markers. If we are average, at the 50th percentile, and our idea of progress is to move to, say, the 60th percentile, we’ve made progress but only in relation to everyone else.
This is currently the dominant model, embodied in the idea of flightpaths, comparisons against FFT targets and the Progress 8 calculation. There are several major conceptual issues with it:
Firstly, it’s a zero sum: children either all make no progress (and keep their relative bell-curve position) or some children make progress at the expense of others. For a given school cohort, it may be possible for everyone to progress compared to the national background – but only if other children elsewhere are falling behind. We can’t have more than 50% of children in the top half… sad but true.
The second issue is the problem of measurement. What does it mean to make progress in art or geography? You can gradually get better at painting and drawing; you can get better at writing and know more facts – but you can’t measure those things on a scale. There is no ‘scale of geography’ to move along. Any time you try to generate a standards ladder to climb, essentially you are describing a series of age-related bell-curves; you only have relative bell-curve positions to guide you. The notion of whether someone is making ‘expected progress’ or is exceeding or performing below expectations, is human judgement about how the quality of their work or the general extent of their knowledge is improving against a sense of what children of that age are usually capable of and how quickly children typically improve. Any scale is an invention guided entirely by human judgement.
When teachers are saying someone entering a school at 11 is ‘on track’, the track in question is usually a projection from KS2 to KS4 outcomes based on historical links between the two different bell-curves. However, there are no actual measures available to measure progress along this track. Anything we use is an educated estimate; a rough idea; an approximate indication. In most subjects we don’t have a good set of data to describe the national bell-curve at the beginning, never mind over time – not until GCSEs are taken. Systems that spew out ‘target grade 6.2’ in Year 8 are giving an illusion of accuracy (decimal places) that is entirely false. Someone in Y7 given a projection of 5.3 against an FFT target of 6 might be considered to be making insufficient progress – but the numbers are all invented.
This excellent blog by Matthew Benyohai is brilliant for spelling out the difference between progress and attainment – check it out: https://medium.com/@mrbenyohai/the-difference-between-measuring-progress-and-attainment-7269a41cdd8 It highlights the unevenness of progress in relation to different areas of knowledge and supports the idea that discrete measures of attainment on specific assessments are the only really meaningful concept we’ve got.
See also this superb gallery of ‘progress nonsense’ from Matthew:
Thirdly, there is an illusion of comparability: Despite the almost total absence of inter-departmental moderation or technical standardisation processes, schools routinely generate data sets that invite direct comparison between subjects. We’re asked to accept that a 6 in Geography represents a similar standard to a 6 in Art; a student with a 5 is doing worse in Art than suggested by their 6 Geography. This then leads to parallel assertions about progress. All of this is invented. It is literally not meaningful to compare the degree of progress made in say Year 9 Art compared to the degree of progress in Year 9 Geography when these judgements are made in entirely different disciplines by different people – unless both sets of teachers have very good mechanisms for comparing school outcomes at KS3 to nationally norm-referenced standards. The best we can hope is that each teacher’s professional judgement of a meaningful notion of progress makes some kind of sense within the parameters of the subject; to compare beyond this is guessing. Guessing is fine if we acknowledge it; it’s not fine if we pretend we’ve measured something.
A fourth issue is the ‘so what?’ question: this flightpath model of linear bell-curve to bell-curve progress doesn’t tell anyone what to do to secure improvement, because the bell-curving, standardizing system takes the information away from a raw form that might be useful. Even if there are some average general links between the specific knowledge and skills students might have different bell-curve positions, you can’t know this about any individual. Attempts to connect statement banks of ‘can do’ statements to flightpaths are massively flawed – valiant maybe – nice try – but ultimately false.
So what can we do?
For me, we need to face the simple reality that there are two broad categories of authentic assessment of attainment and this is what we should measure and report:
- Difficulty model assessments that use tests, yielding test scores. These can be in raw form (eg marks out of 45) converted to percentages or standardised around a certain mean – like 0, 10, 50 or 100.
- Quality model assessments that require teachers to make comparative judgements between samples of work and/or to reference them against success criteria or examplar work. Outcomes can be turned to grades or marks (determined by mark schemes) or standardised scores. (There is also the nomoremarking.com comparative judgement score concept.)
Instead of spuriously converting raw scores or marks from tests and assessments into guessed bell-curved 1-9 grades, we should simply record and report them as they are. These could be averaged across several tests or kept as a list of individual scores. Tell it as it is. However, as I’ve discussed elsewhere, scores only make sense as indicators of standards in comparison to something. A safe bet is to use the school or class cohort average. (Or better still, the graphic representations Matthew Benyohai uses in his blog). So Geography: 78%; class average 65%. Art : 70%; Class average 74%. This is authentic and meaningful.
Progress should be viewed in two ways:
movement through a curriculum: If a student gets 70% on a set of tests of different topics, they are still making progress. They are learning more. If they take the same or very similar tests repeatedly, we’d expect scores to rise. Again they are learning more. So, progress can be tracked by evaluating how far a student’s knowledge extends in relation to the whole curriculum. That will be represented through a series of discrete localised data points that have specific content-driven significance (eg topic test scores in maths or history.)
informed professional judgement: rather than some spurious algorithm, teachers should be entrusted to report a judgement about the degree of progress a student is making through the curriculum in relation to their starting point. ‘Expected progress’ isn’t a data point; a measure. It’s a judgement, taking account all the attainment information – from entry through all the assessments to-date, comparing a student’s performance with current and past cohorts. It’s evaluative, not quantifiable.
Reporting to parents then becomes a combination of three elements:
- My child’s performance is X: report raw assessment info.
- This compares to the cohort/class in this way – eg report class average Y.
- In the teacher’s judgement , taking account of input and outcome information, they are making Z progress. Use a comment bank or simple free-text comment, or a set of codes.
In this way, it doesn’t matter if the information varies between subjects – it will. There are no tricky boundaries to navigate between ‘expected’ ‘developing’ or ‘mastered’ – all of that spuriousness has gone. Only when we’re closer to GCSEs would we worry about how this might pan out in 1-9 grade terms. At KS3, we keep the door open. Good progress from a high starting point might indicate higher projected grades – but we don’t focus on that, because we can’t know.
The fundamental principle is this: keep it real, only report what you know and if it’s a teacher judgement with a wide margin of error, say so.