I’ve been reflecting a lot recently on the relationship between attainment and character. This has become rather more personal than usual because my son is now in his final year of secondary school, with his GCSEs looming at the end of the year.
As I deploy various strategies to encourage him to think about starting his revision, he has one particularly effective response. He reminds me that I’m always saying that character is just as important as, if not more important than, academic attainment.
It is difficult to argue with that.
I do feel for him. He has always had a bit of a millstone around his neck, with a father who is a professor who is supposed to know something about character development. In some ways, he and his older sister have been the living experiments of my work. That is perhaps an unfair burden to place on a 15-year-old.
But, if you will excuse me for being slightly sentimental, they have both borne it remarkably well. They have generally made me very proud and exemplify many of the brilliant qualities I hoped they would develop.
Of course, I can only take a small amount of credit for this. My wife has been more present in their upbringing and has been the gift that I think all children need – a wonderful exemplar of the qualities that make life worth living. More recently, I suspect it is the character of their friends that has shaped them most and I couldn’t be prouder of the company they have chosen to keep.
Character or attainment?
Back to the apparent tension between character and attainment.
Anyone familiar with the Jubilee Centre’s work will know that we think setting these two things up as opposites is a fool’s errand. Character and attainment are not competing ends. In many respects, they are two sides of the same coin.
We don’t need to be told that qualities such as creativity, courage, determination, perseverance, critical thinking, and ethical judgement are likely to help children and young people succeed academically. The good news, for those who need the evidence, is that it exists.
Studies in the United States have demonstrated relationships between character and academic attainment. More recently, a team at the Jubilee Centre analysed data from over 3,000 secondary schools in England using Progress 8 scores. Pupils in schools recognised for strong character education achieved better academic results – on average, the equivalent of about half a GCSE grade higher across subjects.
There is another interesting dimension to this.
Research that I led found that teachers and parents are not always on the same page when it comes to character and attainment. When asked to prioritise the two, both teachers and parents tended to say that character was more important. Yet each group tended to believe that the other group prioritised attainment. In other words, there appeared to be a significant communication gap between what teachers thought they were prioritising and what parents thought teachers were prioritising — and vice versa.
What is particularly striking is that this finding has subsequently been replicated across eight European countries (watch this space for some very interesting comparative research soon to be released on this). The consistency of the results is remarkable.
I wonder whether we would find the same thing if the research were repeated in several years’ time. At a time when so many people are talking about the importance of character and virtues for human flourishing, particularly in the age of AI, perhaps the conversation is beginning to change.
So, what do I say to my son?
Which brings me back to my son and his exams.
Sometimes, when I suggest that he should get on with his revision, I can see that he doesn’t always see the point.
And his question becomes particularly difficult to answer when he turns to AI as a tutor.
“Why do I need to learn all this when AI can produce the knowledge so readily and seemingly effortlessly?”
It’s a fair question, perhaps becoming even fairer since Jensen Huang, the Nvidia CEO recently claimed that ‘kids don’t need maths skills anymore’
My answer is that, yes, GCSEs require him to acquire important foundational knowledge. That knowledge will serve him well, even in a world where AI can retrieve and generate information almost instantaneously.
But I think the exams are testing something else as well.
They are testing his character.
They are testing his perseverance — his ability to study when the work is difficult, repetitive, or simply boring.
They are testing his courage — his willingness to say no to his friends when he is revising and they want him to play FIFA.
They are testing his critical thinking and creativity — particularly when he is sitting in an exam hall and cannot simply turn to AI for an answer.
They are testing his self-control — his ability to manage distractions and make choices that serve longer-term goals rather than immediate gratification.
And they are testing his ethical judgement.
He can use Google or AI to produce an answer to his homework or to a mock paper, but he must recognise that handing in work that isn’t his is not just cheating the school but also cheating himself of the opportunity to learn.
This is why I have started to think differently about exams.
The exam itself is only one small part of the experience. There is the revision, the preparation, the setbacks, the nerves, the pressure, the expectations and, eventually, the experience of sitting in the exam hall and having to perform without the usual technological assistance.
Taken together, and crucially when introduced, managed, and supported well, exams provide a structured and scaffolded opportunity to develop character.
The tests of life, not a life of tests
Of course, exams cannot, and should not, be the be-all and end-all of education.
I have argued many times that we should be preparing young people for the tests of life rather than for a life of tests.
That remains true.
Education should be about far more than examination results. It should help young people develop the knowledge, skills, dispositions, and character qualities they need to live well, work well and contribute to society.
But perhaps I have been guilty of seeing the benefits of exams too narrowly.
Watching my own son prepare for his GCSEs has reminded me that, while exams are certainly not the whole point of education, they can play a part in preparing young people for some of the challenges that life will inevitably throw at them.
So, when my son next asks me, “Dad, what’s the point of exams?”, I think I have a slightly better answer.
Yes, they test what you know.
But they also give you an opportunity to discover something about who you are becoming.
