What does it mean to do well?
Every three years, the OECD’s PISA assessment sets the stage for a familiar drama. Fifteen-year-olds around the world are tested in reading, mathematics, and science to see not just what they know, but what they can do with what they know. Then the results drop and, right on cue, the headlines arrive : “Literacy Standards Crisis!” or “33 reasons why teachers are failing our children - you won’t believe number 22!”. It’s as if learning has become a global horse race, and we all know what fate awaits the horse that doesn’t clear the jump (spoiler: it’s not rewarded with a nice mug of cocoa and a snuggle on the sofa with mum).
While governments are apt to use PISA scores as if they were binary, good or bad, these results are diagnostic, not a diagnosis. Distilling education down to a simple score or ranking invites distortion, and risks reducing complex realities into political soundbites. Small score differences can produce large shifts in rank and context matters enormously. Within the narrow confines of the test, so much of value cannot be measured. Creativity, well-being, social skills, and cultural variation in curriculum content all rest beyond PISA’s reach. And, inevitably, one cannot overlook the possibility that the more weight is given to this testing, the more likely that some schools and governments will look to “teach to the test”, narrowing what is taught, and focusing resources on testable skills rather than broader education over time.
A high profile new initiative to counter a perceived decline in PISA performance gives politicians something tangible to talk about. It’s easier to declare, “We’re falling behind Singapore - time to go back to basics!” than to address the complex structural inequities driving these outcomes. In this “war on standards”, teachers and schools naturally have their heads above the parapets and so are easy to blame as a nation taps into its perennial anxiety about its place in the great educational league table. Declines in maths, especially, attract attention, which, in the age of AI, strikes me as absolutely ludicrous. When a machine can solve algebra faster than most of us can spell it, perhaps the real challenge isn’t to out-calculate the machine, but to lean into how we can think beyond its capabilities - thinking creatively, relationally, and ethically about the real issues that shape our future. After all, an ability to solve differential equations at GCSE level is unlikely to contribute much to the reduction of plastic pollutants.
But PISA scores, for all their limitations, are a useful diagnostic. They help identify gaps and highlight students who may be left behind. Aotearoa New Zealand sits solidly above average, not chasing the top flight of Singapore or South Korea, but holding its own. Most reasonable people recognise that many high-achieving systems rely on didactic, high-pressure methods that simply don’t translate well elsewhere. Horses for courses, as they say - back to the horse racing metaphors again. But it’s worth asking the question: why do we even want to lead the world? There’s something distinctly patriarchal about the drive to conquer - we shall vanquish prepositions and victory shall be ours in the war on photosynthesis! This need to dominate is one I’d rather see unravelled. As an introvert, I can’t help but wonder why we can’t be content with being competent, capable and, above all, happy. Many of the nations that top the tables arguably are not happy: think intense test preparation, narrow definitions of success, high stress loads leading to student burnout and limited autonomy. And so we arrive at the heart of the matter: what does it mean to ‘do well’ - as a child, as a nation, as human beings?
Aotearoa New Zealand values critical thinking, creativity, learner agency, and well-being. This leads to a naturally more balanced profile that is less about producing perfect test-takers and more about nurturing rounded humans. And I’d argue that places us on the right side of the ledger. With the dawning of AI reducing the need for rote proficiency, creative thinking and global competence hold the key to a bright new future. We’re doing just fine, unless the goal is to turn children into obedient calculators. And if we look at the Good Childhood Report, there is an irony that many of the countries topping the PISA table do not fare so well when looking through the lens of well-being.
In my particular sphere, children’s rights and the arts, providing foundational experiences alongside creative artists is about so much more than learning to eat clay (true story from this week)! They foster creative thinking, allow children opportunities to develop agency in a new context, and advocate for their wants and needs. This, in turn, leads to a more creative mindset and there is, dare I say it, a link to entrepreneurship. Let’s be clear, the word entrepreneurial gives me the boak, as they say in Scotland. Not only is it a tricky word to spell in a staff spelling bee competition, it’s been hijacked by right-leaning governments to funnel society down the capitalist highway. Worse, it also risks linking creativity, and by extension the arts, to a productivity metric and phrases like start-up culture, side-hustles, …
With my arts researcher hat on, I would argue that success should be measured through the cultivation of curiosity, agency, and expressive communication. This perspective opens the door to reframing “doing well” away from quantifiable outcomes such as PISA scores or GDP, and toward qualities that underpin long-term flourishing. It moves us beyond the neoliberal skills economy rhetoric, where creativity is only an asset if it can be monetised, to an approach that encourages divergent, expressive, and relational thinking, and growth in environments that nurture curiosity, rather than performance. Maybe budding entrepreneurs would be better placed if they considered redefining “entrepreneurial” as the courage to imagine otherwise, rather than a marketable, monetary skill.
Perhaps PISA results tell us less about what our children can do and more about what we’ve chosen to value. If we value arts-rich, agency-based childhoods, what kind of outcome might we cultivate? If “doing well” is about raising curious, compassionate, creative thinkers, what would the ranking look like? And if we compared that to child happiness and overall population life satisfaction, what might we learn? Countries like Finland demonstrate that a strong learning system and social support can coexist. Aotearoa New Zealand is sitting somewhere in the middle, with academic outcomes above OECD averages, but a student-life satisfaction score that flags there is still work to be done. Evidently, factors such as teacher support, cultural recognition, belonging, low bullying, and participatory teaching practices contribute to the long term flourishing of our children. Ultimately, however, understanding what it means to “do well” requires a radical rethink of the metrics we use.