Standardised tests  (Sigma-T, Micra-T and Drumcondra) have become quite a cause of confusion for parents, disruption for teachers and anxiety for pupils in Irish primary schools since they became mandatory in 2006. Such tests are compulsory, externally prepared, not directly based on school curricular areas and administered in a format that is unfamiliar to most pupils. Schools generally hate them, many parents are confused by them but the Department of Education loves them and uses them in a variety of ways to serve their own needs; one being as a means to allocate SET teachers to schools. There are merits to standardised testing of course, but their actual usefulness to schools is an area of debate which we will explore here in due course. To begin with a quick look back may be helpful.

Testing in Irish primary schools is not a recent phenomenon and can be dated back to 1929 when an optional exam was introduced for sixth class pupils in primary schools. This was called the ‘Primary Cert.’ and it was optional until 1943. When the Primary Cert. was made compulsory that year, it had a clear focus on the core subjects of Irish, English and Arithmetic. Teachers, understandably, focused on these subjects, and, as a consequence, the curriculum narrowed to ensure that standards were raised in these mandatory areas – other subject areas being ignored or considered recreational. The Primary Cert. remained in place until 1967, when it was finally abolished in the lead in to a major curriculum reform in 1971. While not many complained too loudly on its passing the Primary Cert. did have a certain currency and was a product of its time.  

With the onset of free education the second level system began to grow and the transition to second level became a rite of passage marked by entrance examinations set by schools themselves. In time though these exams were discouraged because they were considered to be enabling discrimination or elitism, as some schools – naturally enough you might say – chose the higher performing new entrants when places were scarce. When the chorus of dissatisfaction at official level with entrance exams led to their demise, mandatory standardised testing was imposed on schools in 2006 with the issuing of Circular 0138. This circular, which remains in place, made it compulsory for all schools to carry out standardised assessments on all pupils at least twice during their eight year primary cycle. This practice has become, in that time, a cause of much angst and uncertainty in schools and in many homes.

So, as the taxi driver said to philosopher Bertrand Russell on the way to the airport, ‘…so Lord Russell what’s it all about then?’ let us grapple with that big question without getting too involved in statistics. It is widely believed that if, for example, you toss a coin 100 times in a row the head to tails ratio will be 50:50 – you’ll find this is actually the case when the exercise is repeated a number of times.  By the same token, in a cohort of people engaging in any task the result should also be predictable. A Standardised Test (ST), for example, predicts that achievement levels are consistent, and, in terms of achievement some pupils will excel, some will perform adequately, and, a minority will fail – most population samples being a mixed bag of skills, intelligences and personalities. This is entirely predictable, statisticians will confidently claim. Using statistical jargon these scores are presented as STEN scores with associated percentile rankings and all of this can be confusing to those of us who are not statisticians. In simple layman’s terms, STEN scores are equivalent to a scale of one to 10 so there is no need to get too bogged down with statistical analysis. Recently, for example, OECD data based on standardised tests on 15-year-olds, under the umbrella of the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA test), showed Ireland to be well ahead of most other countries in mathematics. This may well be, statistically true but I still sometimes wonder how the sample school populations in the countries being compared were matched with respect to intellectual ability, socio-economic status, educational attainment, and so on.

A more important question might be, to what extent do standardised tests help schools to improve the quality of teaching and learning? I would argue, not a lot, mostly on the basis that teachers are well aware of the learning needs of the pupils in their care. Teacher observation is the most important assessment method in use in any school, in my experience, and it is available in a language that can be easily understood. Most teachers are intimately aware of the developmental idiosyncrasies of the pupils in their care and they differentiate constantly to allow each pupil develop and achieve his/her potential at a pace that suits them and without attaching any labels. In doing so, they shield pupils from the reality that they may be, periodically, behind their peers in specific areas of development and usually it all works out okay in the end. Teachers also recognise effort and give credit for it – standardised tests don’t. A well known agricultural wisdom tells us that weighing the pig is never as important as feeding the pig in order to get it ready for market which, when applied to education, suggests that teaching is more important than testing perhaps, although assessment does have a place in education! Standardised tests, however,  are mere snapshots in time when many variables (seen and unseen) may have been at play. Albert Einstein, who was, arguably, the greatest brain of the 20th Century would have done very badly in a standardised test scenario. He hated school and struggled to learn within the rigid confines of formal education. So also did Charles Dickens and others whose works are now admired universally; both did ‘okay’ educationally when the dust settled.

So in summary, do schools need to run standardised test? I think not and only do so because it is a condition to which they are bound to comply – the Deptartment insists on it.  There is a much richer, more nuanced and individualised data set available to every parent in every school and it can be accessed in a simple conversation with your child’s teacher. I’m not arguing against assessment for learning when it is based on the expected learning outcomes in schools, but I remain to be convinced that the standardised testing procedures that are foisted on schools by the Department of Education are of real value, ‘… in supporting individuals to achieve their full potential and contribute to Ireland’s social, cultural or economic development’, which, by the way, is the stated remit of that particular arm of the State. If the State persists with this practice, it would be more sensible and fairer to do it on the same basis as the tri-annual PISA test, which compare standards of 15-year-olds in literacy, mathematics and science across OECD countries. In that case, a sample is tested in each country and the tests are administered and collated by external examiners with appropriate statistical experience and results are presented discreetly as international averages. Irish primary schools administer the tests and correct then in school, which is a sure fire way, in my view, to invalidate the results through overexposure, human error, possible gaming, and so on. The Department, it seems, continues to believe that these tests provide data that is ‘highly reliable, verified, and easily accessible’ but can they really be that naive? 

Testing in schools should be about checking that whatever has been taught in class has been learned as a means to guide teachers in their work. Standardised tests are for trends, comparisons and big picture analysis and they can be manipulated too easily through selective sampling, lack of expertise in schools or purposeful manipulation, all of which serve to invalidate the whole process. The recent experiences of accredited results during Covid which resulted in dramatic swings in favour of higher grades in all subjects is a pertinent case in point; teachers want the pupils in their care to do well and develop the necessary levels of self-esteem to become, in time, independent learners; they prefer to accentuate strengths and try not to expose pupils, unnecessarily, to failure.  In the worst case scenario, standardised tests, administered as they are in schools by untrained personnel, can easily become the ‘lies damned lies and statistics’ we so often hear of. Whatever such standardised tests may provide to other parties, they provide little additional information to schools, in my experience. Percentile ranks and STEN scores never ever fully grasp the reality of a child’s school experience. Teacher always knows best!

Once the National School system had been set up in Ireland in 1831, the question of finding teachers very quickly became an issue. Many teachers were untrained in the 19th century though some were former hedge schoolmasters or famous poets in the Bardic tradition like Eoghan Rua Ó’Súilleabháin, Brian Merrimam or Sean Ó’Tuama. Before the Famine, as many as 5,000 hedge school masters operated across the country, but, content and standards varied. As a first step, the 1831 initiative, in addressing this organisational deficit set up a District Model School system of training for teachers (the Dunmanway Model School is a relic of that era and still operates today). However, this did not sit well with the Catholic Hierarchy, and, following a successful lobbying campaign, two training colleges were established for Catholics in Drumcondra (1875) and in Carysfort a couple of years later. By the start of the 20th century, Training Colleges were also in operation in Waterford, Belfast, and in Limerick for Catholics, with a Church of Ireland Training College in Dublin also. Bit by bit, the number of trained teachers in Irish schools increased and a measure of control was applied. For example, the code of conduct for teachers in post-Famine Ireland advised them to, ‘avoid fairs, markets and political meetings, to promote cleanliness, neatness and decency and to avoid all forms of vice’. For a time too, teachers were paid by results, which meant that the regurgitation of facts and rote learning using harsh methods became recognisable features of school life in the second half of the 19th century – teachers’ pay depended on it. It would be difficult to imagine the young professional teachers of this generation working under such conditions or accepting those societal expectations with respect to their personal lifestyles.

By the first decades of the 20th century, primary education in Ireland was, effectively denominational. Teachers were trained in denominational institutions run and worked in a complex world with many intruding factors. These included, a cultural revival movement, a rise in political activity around the prospect of Home Rule in the run up to WWI, a proliferation of quasi-military alliances such as the IRB, The Irish Volunteers, the Citizens’ Army, and so on. alongside a political reconfiguration that brought Arthur Griffith’s Sinn Féin party to the fore and a trade union movement that was increasingly politicised.  Following Independence, Irish primary teachers began to assume a much greater role in society as the guardians of tradition and culture. They were both victims and agents of that post-colonial educational philosophy, as programmes were re-designed in line with more traditional and nationalist ideals. Irish became compulsory and Gaeltacht students, as well as those with ambitions to become civil servants, were naturally attracted to teaching. These were the children of middle-class Ireland, predominantly, and had a measure of social capital, which suited the emerging socio-religious narrative.

From a teacher training perspective, the new State inherited five teacher Training Colleges in St. Patrick’s Dublin (St Pat’s), Carysfort Dublin, the Church of Ireland College, Rathmines, Dublin, Mary Immaculate College in Limerick (Mary I) and the De La Salle College in Waterford. When Waterford closed soon after independence, to that list was added Marino College Dublin which had been, up to that time, run by the Christian Brothers. Teachers were, predominantly, male and the ‘Master’ eulogised so brilliantly by Goldsmith who, in the Village Schoolmaster said, ‘…and still they gazed and still the wonder grew, how one small head could carry all he knew’, became a conspicuous figure in society. That’s all changed of course and the gender make up of primary teachers today is 87 per cent female, 13 per cent male.

From 1960s onwards teacher Training Colleges became co-educational and additional post-graduate courses were offered, which infused them with a more academic approach and culture. Today, all teachers complete a four year degree programme and their qualifications must be accredited by the Teaching Council of Ireland. Generally, they work in a tight regulatory framework (different to the time when attendance at a political meeting was a crime but, arguably, no less repressive) and still serve too many masters. The Church these days are minor partners, ostensibly managing schools, but, increasingly, unable to do so very effectively. The great Church-State experiment has, the facts would suggest, run its course and the monopoly that the local priest once had on the schools in his parish is no longer evident.

When Cardinal Cullen, in the late 19th century, turned the educational arena into a major political and religious battleground, he knew what he was doing and at that time the Church Hierarchy was the undisputed moral authority of the nation. The ‘quid pro qou’ was, of course, that both Church and State expected schools and teachers to serve their very obvious agendas in post-Independence Ireland and serve as the gatekeepers of the extremely conservative and very inward looking new Ireland that followed independence.

Teachers today are well educated and amongst the brightest and best of their tribe. The points system, with all of its faults, has improved equality of access into the profession making it a broader church than it once was. Many teachers now have post-graduate level qualifications. They belong to a generation who have, in their personal lives, turned away from institutional religion and are, increasingly, secular in their worldview – you don’t find many of them collecting at Mass these days! With some notable exceptions, their attitude to cultural nationalism and the Irish language is entirely different to their predecessors. Their political perspective is often as global, as much as it local. They are no longer just reservoirs of facts passing on canonically-approved and absolute truths. Since 1831, they have experienced change on a grand scale, endured an era of payment by results (1972-1900), experienced curriculum change that reflected changing political ideologies of pre and post-Independence Ireland, were caught up in denominational managerial structures and expected to serve societal expectations. But they have endured and professionalised and still play an important role in society through schools, which remain parochially organised and locally managed by voluntary Boards who act on behalf of Patronage bodies. This is a model that is, probably, not fit for purpose any longer, and, though change is inevitable, it should be planned for now in an open and democratic manner – not when the wheels come off the managerial wagon! 

We should never forget that, in education, children should always come first and schools are for them. But education cannot be individualised, as it too big and consensus must be the basis for any future reconfiguration plans – common sense must prevail. Teachers’ voices matter in these emerging realities – they are, after all, the experts! On a daily basis, they deal with a complex set of clients and stakeholders in a reshaping society where change has become the norm. But they remain critical agents in the reshaping of that new and, hopefully, socially just society. Many will leave a lasting impression on the young minds they help to shape. And they need your support!

The origins of State-supported national school education for the people of Ireland dates to that period before the Famine when, under British colonial rule, Lord Edward Stanley was Chief Secretary. Stanley’s ambitious educational initiative in Ireland was the first of its kind in Europe and even predated the provision of primary education to the general population in England by some thirty years or more. It was a very novel initiative and a clear break in continuity from the past efforts of hedge school masters, privateers or societies like the Kildare Place Society (KPS). Many of those societies were, some have claimed, hell-bent on converting the majority Catholic population to the Protestant faith. On the other hand, hedge schools, which had flourished during the era of the Penal Laws, were also considered to be dangerous hotbeds of republican sentiments by the British colonial administration. In general before 1831, education was haphazardly organised, mostly fee-paying, lacking in recognisable standards with mostly untrained teachers and was, philosophically and financially, out of the reach of the majority peasant population of Ireland. At that time, ordinary people had no need to become literate or numerate and were busy eking out an existence in a densely populated country with a very low standard of living. Nevertheless, the new State-supported and regulated system was intended to provide an education for the poorer peasant classes in Irish society and it was a novel departure by the British Administration in Ireland given their general adherence to the political philosophy of ‘Laissez-Faire’ which believed in non-intervention and held the view that those who suffered from misfortunate or misery at home, or, in the colonies, had only themselves to blame.

The 1831 Education Act was, clearly, intended to be a new beginning and as the Stanley Letters stated, ‘… a system of Education from which should be banished even the suspicion of proselytism, and which, admitting children of all religious persuasions, should not interfere with the peculiar tenets of any’. Religious affiliation was not to be a factor in terms of attendance at these schools. It was intended that these schools would be open for up to four days a week and that approved Clergy of any persuasion could, on the remaining days, if they so wished, provide denominational religious instruction to their members only. Attendance did not become compulsory until 1872. Unfortunately, this new scheme was to provide instruction through English only and Irish was not to be a subject area of instruction. As a result, many would claim that the National School system killed the Irish language but that is, at best, simplistic and the slow decline of Irish during the 19th century was an obvious aspect of life to which many factors contributed. Amongst these, the economic boom that accompanied the Napoleanic Wars, the move away from cottage industry, the drive to industrialise and urbanise, all of which brought a sharper focus on the literacy and numeracy skills that were essential in the marketplace, should be considered more significant.

Under the terms of the 1831 Act, locally-owned and state-funded schools were developed and funded to the tune of 80 per cent by the State. Over the next 50 years, schools were built all over Ireland and free education was provided to all who chose to attend. By 1870 almost 7,000 schools had been constructed across the country, at roughly three-mile intervals. This had increased to almost 10,000 by the turn of the 20th Century and, by that time, almost every parish in the county had a school, which became an important mark of their identity usually personified in the local ‘Master’ who became a community leader and point of contact in many aspects of local life. Hedge schools had all but disappeared by 1870 and the many voluntary religious groups (Protestant Societies, Sunday School Societies, Religious Orders of Nuns and Christian Brothers) of all denominations were slowly incorporated into the national system as it grew.

Thus began the Irish engagement with formal education on grand scale. The 3,250 or so primary schools currently operating in Ireland still reflect the structures that were put in place almost two centuries ago, although their ambition today has broadened to include an expectation that, in line with the article 29 of the UN Convention of the Rights of the Child, within their walls all young people have the opportunity to develop their ‘personality, talents and mental and physical abilities to the fullest’. The modern curriculum is designed to support that ideal and is, when effectively implemented, a window of opportunity onto the world of creativity and knowledge. Many contextual factors make its implementation difficult, but in general, schools today are child-friendly and outcomes focused and provide a good foundation for learning.

However, let us not forget that educational provision is always underpinned by political and/or religious ideologies and this has been apparent from the start. It could be argued, for example, that the effort to educate the peasantry of Ireland was a social experiment destined to serve the Empire by civilising the Irish without forcing them to renege on their traditional religious beliefs; a praiseworthy initiative in many respects or a realisation, perhaps, that repression (Penal Laws, etc.) had failed. However, that plan was thwarted by the emerging power of the Catholic Church in post-Famine Ireland with Cardinal Cullen being the chief architect of that political victory. Once managerial control was established, the schools in post-famine Ireland became a major platform on which the Catholic Church established its powerful foothold on Irish society. The Catholic hierarchy saw schools as a perfect vehicle through which they might exert a positive, as they understood it, but, ultimately, controlling influence over society. The major Church figure in post famine Ireland was Cardinal Paul Cullen and his intentions were clear from the statement attributed to him that, ‘Catholic children should be taught in Catholic schools by Catholic teachers under Catholic control’. Consequently, by the turn of the twentieth century, local parish schools built under the terms of the 1831 Act were denominationally segregated and clerically managed. This was one of the first practical examples of the Church-State joint governance model of social control that, arguably, cast a long shadow on Irish society following independence from Britain when the vast majority of schools (95 per cent-plus at one stage) were under the patronage of the Catholic Bishops of each Diocese.

Following independence, primary schools quickly came to be seen as an ideal political platform on which our lost culture and traditions and language might be restored following centuries of colonial oppression; a recurring post-colonial phenomenon in newly independent nations across the world. This was an era when, for the general population, their education ended at 14-years-of-age, as Second Level schools were scare and, more importantly, fee paying putting them beyond the reach of the majority. In post-independence Irish schools, history was re-packaged, the restoration of the Irish language became a national obsession and schools became functional places where facts, dates, lists, prayers and Catechism questions were learned by rote and where fear and corporal punishment was the order of each day for many pupils with educational challenges or for those without social capital. An understandable but very narrow educational philosophy began to emerge which dominated Irish Primary Schools for the 50 years that followed independence and no major curriculum reform happened until the early 1970s. Since the seventies, the curriculum has been broadened, education is a lot more child-centred, additional help is provided for pupils with learning difficulties, corporal punishment has been assigned to the dustbin of history and clerical control has declined to the extent that it is now, increasingly, irrelevant. Unfortunately, alongside reform came new political ideologies which replaced the cultural nationalism of ‘Holy Catholic Ireland’ with the concept of education serving the workplace. Today, schools are constantly badgered by external initiatives which serve to promote some current or populist agenda. These are, not necessarily, bad agendas but they come in a ‘one size fits all packages’ which, sometimes, ignores the local in favour of the populist, global.

Indeed it may now be opportune, in the decade leading up to the bi-centennial celebration of the Irish primary school system, to re-evaluate the merits of its non-denominational objectives, which were thwarted by the status quo of that time as represented by the emerging political influence of a reforming Catholic church in Ireland. Maybe it is time to have an open and inclusive national conversation about school patronage that reflects current rather than historic or self-serving agendas. Maybe it is time to reflect, in the run up to 2031, on the political ideology that underpins education today and re-frame the school system to reflect the needs of new exciting communities that want only what is best for their children and that are well capable of re-imagining schools for that purpose without being exclusionary or elitist. The majority of schools do remain under Catholic patronage (90 per cent-plus) but, in reality, they are welcoming and inclusive of all denominations and none. All are, in my experience, simply local schools who look after all members of their community without prejudice with their Catholic ethos being most evident in the manner in which they model inclusivity and accept diversity. However, discussions of this nature are often negatively framed around the time allocated to ‘Faith Formation’ in Catholic schools; those who don’t wish to attend are accommodated but, especially in smaller schools, there is a huge challenge in providing additional activities in supervised alternative classrooms due, mainly, to lack of human and physical resources. There is, we are told by official Ireland, no rush to divest these schools to other patronage providers such as Educate Together, and so on but maybe that is just a way of avoiding an open and honest discussion on these important matters. But is it necessary that every school should allow for religious preference in proportion to the community it serves and how is that possible? Or is it time to separate religion from education and replace denominational Faith Formation with moral development as a common link between all faiths and none. Should religion be removed from schools and relocated in the Churches, Mosques and Synagogues of Ireland? And given the reality that many of the teachers who teach religion do not practice it, should it be left in the hands of trained and committed practitioners, i.e. those ritual specialists of their respective religious denominations? These are, undoubtedly, complex questions but maybe we need to talk about them and develop a bottom-up approach that understands the spirituality of the modern Irish family and that is not rooted in a dated and inflexible religious perspective drowning in dogma and self-imposed regulatory prohibitions.

The Irish national school system was intended to be non-denominational but became denominational due to the historical and polemical context from which it emerged. Today, though we remain cultural Catholics, the evidence of Catholic dogma and ritual in the public spaces that we occupy is diminished greatly. Though religion is mostly confined in our schools to the celebration of the Sacraments of Holy Communion and Confirmation,  many are still exercised by it. In real terms there are not half enough priests in the Diocese of Cork and Ross to maintain the same level of involvement with schools as before and this will get increasingly worse given the age profile of priests in the Diocese and the mostly empty seminaries. Beyond their practical role in the holistic development of each child in their assigned schools, which they can’t and don’t fulfil, choosing instead to devolve responsibility to teachers in a meaningless covenant enshrined in a piece of paper (Certificate in Religious Instruction) that confirms teachers are qualified to teach religion regardless of their personal views, the clergy are becoming invisible in schools. The Catholic Patronage model has, since the 1970s, devolved responsibility for school governance to local voluntary Boards of Management (BOM) which are reviewed every four years. This huge structure is built on volunteerism and hardly fit for purpose in the litigiously aware society we now live in. Schools are complex places with many stakeholders to represent. and local chairpersons, no matter how well-intentioned, can often wander into uncharted waters. Nor does the BOM structure always allow for the very best fit with respect to the appointment of school chairpersons, for example. This appointment is at the discretion of the patron who nominates two people onto every school board. The patron will, understandably, opt for someone who is, ideally, a practicing Catholic but, at the minimum, will need to support the school ethos and be a person of good standing in the locality and a safe pair of hands who will work within the agreed governance parameters – no radicals need apply!             

But so much is taken for granted; so much is accepted without question; so much lip-service and pretence is evident and there appears to be no appetite for reimagining the structures that define our schools from a managerial perspective.

Notwithstanding all that, the Catholic patronage model has served schools well and without considering the merits of alternative models of management it would be foolish to just ‘throw the baby out with the bathwater’. As the old order wanes, new powers emerge that dominate the educational airways and media outlets. Education, the media constantly remind us, now needs to be designed to serve the workplace and corporate giants want skilled practitioners to emerge from the education system, i.e., fully trained and ready to enter the workplace and hit the ground running. This is evident in the proliferation of more specific, technical courses and degree programmes which are now on offer in Irish Universities and in the reduced intake to Humanities programmes which were the favoured route for many graduates in times past. Creative thinkers are inferior to practical problem solvers these days it seems. This is evident in the dependence of universities on corporate funding and international students to the detriment of their role in guiding social change through informed debate. Outside of the historical area of debate where academics analysis is still sought, where are the public figures that once framed social dialogue in Ireland? What has happened to all the intellectuals with a social conscience and a clear view on what society should look like?

The journey of almost two centuries has been an interesting one and many of the points and issues referred to could become the basis for future debate – the sooner the better in my view! In the run in to the bi-centennial celebration of formal educational provision in 2031 we need to re-evaluate the role of education and especially our primary schools because they will be the foundation stone of the new Ireland which must become a more inclusive, creative and innovative force for good in the new order of Irish society. Many schools are examples of good practice in that respect but some skeletons also hide in closets. It’s time to think about the future before it takes us by surprise and leads down a philosophical cul de sac, or, we are presented with some ‘fait accompli’ which disregards tradition or may not put the rights of all stakeholders on an equal footing.