When Covid-19 cancelled GCSEs in March 2020, a London-based headteacher was quoted as saying: “Telling pupils now that there are no exams stops their whole purpose in learning.” This statement acknowledged that pupils are essentially funnelled through secondary school towards GCSEs, with all other aspects of schooling being peripheral at best. During the pandemic, commentators saw a chance to dip their oar into the then fashionable currents of education, proclaiming that Covid-19 necessitated reforming schools to become less exam-driven. But the pandemic petered out. Schools reverted to the comfortable norm. And yesterday we once again observed the annual tradition of GCSE results’ day. Teaching in English schools and researching for my book, Around the World in 80 Schools, has made me increasingly question the value of the end of key stage 4 qualification. GCSEs have been a feature of the schools’ system here since they were introduced in 1988. But my travels showed how many systems do not need an equivalent-aged qualification at 16. It begs the question: why do they seem so indispensable here? Ambiguous Their purpose is ambiguous. GCSEs are not the key point of reference for universities – offers are more based on A-level predictions or corresponding post-16 qualifications. Given how narrow the subject choice is at key stage 5, most pupils do not take GCSEs subjects on to A-levels or equivalent. The exams are used as an accountability measure, but isn’t that what Ofsted is for? They were originally introduced to create a standardised national benchmark for school-leavers. In the 1980s that was catering to the large numbers who left education aged 16. All pupils must now stay in education or training post-16. The ambiguity is more unacceptable given the corrosive impact GCSEs have on schools. A 2024 report from the exam board OCR outlined that English pupils spend on average 31.5 hours taking GCSE exams, longer than anywhere in the world for an equivalent qualification. They hoover up other aspects of schooling, such as pursuing personal interests outside the examined curriculum and extracurricular activities. These can be crucial to help them feel valued in less academic ways and to nurture a sense of belonging to their community. But they become deprioritised as they lack the accountability pressure of the GCSE behemoth. ‘Revision sessions’ So much time in year 10 and especially year 11 that could be focused on educationally valuable activities becomes “revision sessions” or “interventions”. Up and down the country pupils are told: “No educationally enriching school trip for you – you have after-school maths for an exam 18 months away.” In English schools it often feels that learning matters not for its own sake or for pupil cultivation, but for the grade and school’s progress score. One ex-colleague giving a pep-talk to pupils before an exam said, “Once all that knowledge swimming around your head goes on the exam paper, you can forget about it.” It was a perfect encapsulation of the transactional view of education that GCSEs embody. Autopilot Visiting schools around the world, I often found myself envying their increased capacity to pursue educational activities that have less external accountability, but are essential for young people. This included moral education in Japan, a school in Australia that delivered a rigorous wellbeing curriculum and a school in Thailand where pupils engaged in the school or local community every day, whether volunteering with the elderly or tending to crops. Within academic learning, English pupils are reared to think the only curriculum that matters is the one that is examined, over which they have no choice. Yet I visited schools in the US and New Zealand that enabled some pupil choice every term in the examined and non-examined curriculum. Having some choice reflects the evolving interests inherent to a developing teenage mind – pupils were enthused by having some autonomy, rather than being handed a static timetable they have no say over. Our schools are disposed to run on autopilot, a conveyer belt that smothers critique. Results’ day this week was accompanied by the ritual glee and glumness, without deeper thought about whether this system is best for our pupils and country. With imagination and daring, Andy Burnham’s government could, in one fell swoop, generate a transformational change by reforming a GCSE system no longer fit for purpose.