I recall reading Charles Murray and Richard Herrnstein’s infamous book, The Bell Curve, and being absolutely appalled at some of their bold claims. The book has rightly garnered the sorts of critiques that challenge such outrageous notions, yet its ideas have not only taken hold in education they inform how many pedagogues still view pupils and evaluate them. I will explore some of those ideas in this and forthcoming blog entries.
I used to conduct a thought experiment in my professional training of teachers whereby I would invite them to consider the bell curve and apply it to their teaching in general, and their own pupils in particular. How many accepted that the bell curve represented a typical distribution or range of achievement in their classes, I would ask. It was almost unanimous that all accepted it. What does that mean, I would continue. The teachers would proceed to explain how some pupils would exceed the target, others would just about reach it, more again would fall slightly short of attainment, whilst the remainder would fail to meet it all together. What percentage typically fails to meet your target in a normal academic year, I asked. The answers ranged anywhere from 25% to 40%. So, I continued, in a typical class of yours, anywhere up to 40% of your pupils might possibly fail the course. Yes, they nodded.
Is this not a strange admission, I challenged. Could you imagine a surgeon making a similar claim – 40% of my patients will not survive the operation; sadly, they will expire on the operating table. Or imagine a pilot proudly announcing that only 60% of the planes he flies will touch down safely. I asked the teachers who would agree to have an appendicitis with such a surgeon. A show of hands! None raised their hand. How about boarding that plane, I asked. Again, no hands! Imagine now that you are parents about to enrol your child in this school, I said, where it is your practice to fail up to 40% of your pupils. Who among you will say to such a parent, ‘be forewarned, your child may belong in our failing cohort. He or she may not pass a course, any course, because typically up to 40% of pupils in our school fail. Who will argue further that this is normal bell curve logic, and one cannot cavil with it? Who is willing to meet parents and make this bold admission? A show of hands, please!’
This time an awkward silence pervaded the room. Teachers looked about them nervously and searched for an answer that would serve. None was forthcoming. I parked the discomfort and asked the teachers to consider a few alternative scenarios: imagine a situation, I pleaded, where all your pupils succeeded. Is this possible? Tentatively, hands began to raise. How about eradicating the bell curve completely from your thinking and approaching assessment and evaluation differently? Is this possible, I probed. Again, hands affirmed it was possible. How about the idea itself, the bell curve idea, I mean: where does it come from, I asked? Why does it exist in education? And why is this kind of ranking permitted in the first place, but more importantly, why are some willing to accept failure as a normal, even typical outcome for their pupils?
[We will continue this conversation and answer these questions in future blog entries …]
