Mounting the defence for a knowledge-rich curriculum

A few years ago I wrote a series of blogs on curriculum theory and design. I did this for a few reasons. Firstly, I always felt as though these were tricky concepts to wrestle with. My hope was to distil some of this complicated thinking into a single, accessible series. To this day, I hope the series has been useful to teachers and senior leaders wishing to learn more about curriculum.

The second reason I wrote the series was because I felt, like many others, as though engagement in rigorous, subject-specific curriculum design was the lifeblood of school improvement. I felt this was particularly evident in disadvantaged contexts, where some children arrived at school with limited vocabulary and comparatively profound gaps in their knowledge. My hope was that I might contribute in some small way to the development of curricula across schools where it was sorely needed.

Running throughout the series was the idea that knowledge was powerful. Indeed, the second post looked solely at the notion of a knowledge-rich curriculum. And while I stopped short at offering a definition, I posited that a “knowledge-rich curriculum is one in which knowledge is given primacy, and is sequenced and taught in a manner that allows for this knowledge to be retained and built upon.” In short, one where knowing stuff is privileged. One where knowledge is an end in itself.

I remain utterly convinced that this approach to curriculum design is the right course of action. Thankfully, the current Ofsted framework also incentivises this. Because the onus is on curriculum, school leaders are forced to think hard about what is taught in their schools, how knowledge is structured, and why some things are taught over others. In schools where dynamic discussions between knowledgeable senior leaders and dedicated subject leads are commonplace, children from all backgrounds are given access to a life-changing education. They build deep, interconnected networks of subject-specific knowledge, and are capable of thinking critically within the domains of given disciplines.

The emphasis placed on knowledge by the current conservative government (whom I largely loathe) is something I grudgingly respect and, indeed, appreciate. I agree with schools minister Nick Gibb when he says “teaching a knowledge-rich curriculum is essential to the task of spreading opportunity.” I also agree with his assessment that “the notion of generic skills is one of the most damaging myths in education today.”

And it is this second point that concerns me. When a general election is called I will openly campaign on behalf of labour candidates. I will count down the days until I no longer have to live under modern conservatism, and will – despite their flaws – embrace a labour government. And yet I will do all of this with a kernel of fear in the back of my mind.

It is no secret that there are senior figures in the Labour party who advocate a movement away from a knowledge-rich approach to one in which a curriculum is built around skills. At this critical juncture in our sector, I therefore think it is time we mounted a defence of the hard-fought gains we have made over the past decade.

That starts with acknowledging where knowledge-rich has gone wrong.

Curriculum design and theory is just about the most challenging thing we can do in a school. As a result – and through no fault of the well-intentioned efforts of many teachers and leaders – distortions have arisen that ultimately undermine the case in favour of a knowledge-rich approach. Take formative assessment. As Christine Counsell points out in her most recent TH article, a knowledge-rich approach to formative assessment is not about the memorisation of facts. It is about assessing in a way that honours the internal structure and shape of knowledge within a given discipline. So a timeline in History works as a form of assessment because it forces students to pay attention to narrative and, when positioned correctly within an enquiry, to argument too.

And yet, you will find far more schools asking children to answer 5 ‘Do Now’ questions based on previous content (usually mandated by senior leadership) than schools thinking hard about the role a timeline can play in retrieving and organising information. Where this happens, knowledge-rich becomes conflated with ‘information-rich.’

Taken to its extreme, teaching in these scenarios can become reduced to the communication of core propositions. The curriculum no longer speaks through the language of the subject, but increasingly comes to represent a body of knowledge that must be rigidly taught and memorised (often via generic whole-school strategies). Assessment becomes a pub-quiz style retrieval of basic facts.

This is an issue for all sorts of reasons. Above anything else, children are given a raw deal. Instead of being inducted into the unique codes of each subject discipline, they become victims of genericism. Tasked with internalising disparate gobbets of information.

But it matters for a second reason. Knowledge-rich-gone-wrong provides ammunition for those seeking to undo the progress of the past decade. In this sense, those of us who believe in a knowledge-rich approach, and those who have proved successful in this regard, have a vested interest in supporting other schools – more on this later.

A second issue I see in the present climate is, frankly, a more frustrating one. With Ofsted’s lens focussed squarely on curriculum, Academy Trusts have sought to create strong, centralised curriculum models. In some cases this has been a success. The Ark History curriculum is a good example of a curriculum being developed over time, by subject specialists, and being used with sensitivity across a number of schools.

But the same cannot be said of all Trusts. In too many cases, centralised curricula have been produced that are, frankly, not good enough. In heavy-handed attempts to bring about consistency, these curricula have been mandated without necessary scrutiny. The net result is teachers and subject leads are forced to teach from inadequate resources tethered to a poorly designed curriculum. In worst-case scenarios, talented HoDs are forced to let go of their own curriculum in favour of an inferior product thrust upon them by a Trust. This is wrong, and it does nothing to support the case for knowledge-rich curricula.

And so, I fear, we are at a crossroads. Across the country there are too many poor imitations of knowledge-rich curricula in action, adding fuel to the fires of those calling for a turn to a skills-based approach. Without meaningful and adequate defence of a knowledge-rich approach and, crucially, without robust support for those struggling, there is a risk we lose the battle.

So what now?

Thankfully, there are many instances of schools getting knowledge-rich, right. As above, where dynamic conversations exist between senior leaders and subject leads, and where each subject is permitted to speak through its own language – without generic distortions mandated by senior leadership – strong curricula exist. At a basic level, we should celebrate and learn from these.

But I also believe we should be sharing them more readily than we currently are. Right now, it is far too difficult to locate and access high-quality curriculum models and materials. For schools in need of support, this makes things tricky. While there may be a desire to improve the subject curricula within a school, the knowledge of how to do this may be limited. Easy access to strong curriculum models changes this.

And this matters because, when faced with chronic demands around workload and capacity, schools need high-quality resources at their fingertips. If you have never worked in a challenging school with serious behaviour issues, or where recruitment is an ongoing uphill battle, or indeed where many members of staff are new to the profession and in need of an intense level of support, you may not realise how difficult curriculum development can be. In fact, it can often feel like the least of your worries.

Imagine instead if teachers in these contexts could access the very best curriculum materials and resources (ideally, free of charge). Imagine if they could be helped by schools doing things really well. By the leaders of subject communities who have spent years developing and refining their curricula. Were these shared, and were these schools supported more directly by subject experts, we might quickly see improvement where it is needed most. We might also see a reduction in the distortions that have plagued the implementation of knowledge-rich curricula. Ultimately, the argument in favour of this approach would not only be improved, but would likely gain more – and more varied – voices. As we move closer towards a new government and into the unknown, this feels crucial.

An example of where this is happening (and working) is the Primary Knowledge Curriculum. With PKC, schools can buy into exceptional curricula that recognise the identity of the disciplines that are studied. If you want an understanding of the impact of this approach to resource-sharing, then all you need to do is read the case studies of those schools and trusts involved.

So what am I really saying? Well, in short, I think there is a very real risk that a case will be made against a knowledge-rich approach to curriculum at some point over the next few years. This is a concern because, when done well, a knowledge-rich curriculum is a thing of immense power, capable of taking children beyond their lived experience and immersing them in the beauty of subject disciplines.

Those who have long argued in favour of a knowledge-rich approach should, therefore, prepare to defend this approach. To my mind, the defence will be far more robust if there are far more examples of knowledge-rich-gone-right vs. those gone wrong. To achieve this, we need openness and collaboration. So share your work. Reach out if you’re struggling. Support each other. And if you are one of the people already going above and beyond and sharing all of the hard work you do, then thank you. It makes an enormous difference to schools that really need it. And in the long run it will help us make an important case in favour of knowledge.