In the 1940s, a different Lipson (that one an English political scientist) famously remarked that if Wellington or Auckland harbours were ever to have a statue akin to that in New York, it would assuredly be a statue of Equality.
The ideal of a fair-go runs deep in the New Zealand psyche, and rightly so.
It should be a concern to everyone that our national certificate in educational achievement (NCEA) no longer honours this ideal.
In our forthcoming report, Spoiled by Choice, we reveal how our national assessment - designed to make schooling more inclusive - actually both widens and disguises disadvantage.
NCEA was borne out of discontent with the former University dominated system of School Certificate, University Entrance and Bursary. Designed for a by-gone age, these terminal exams were driven by the selection needs of universities, and had little to offer vast swathes of the Kiwi population.
By comparison NCEA - more flexible, inclusive and student-centred - was designed to ensure that all students could achieve a qualification. And sure enough, since its introduction students stay in school longer and far fewer leave without a qualification.
So what then is the problem?
What is the problem?
Bluntly, the problem is that a ‘qualification’ is not the same as an ‘education’.
When NCEA was introduced, the idea was that simple pass or fail grades would be awarded for everything from driving a tractor, to the algebra of complex numbers. Students could accumulate passes in a vast range of vocational and academic standards, and through whatever evidence their teachers judged appropriate. Academic snobbishness and hierarchies of subjects would become things of the past, as English literature earned the same reward as mixing concrete.
But the trouble, of course, is that the relative value of subjects is not something that can be mandated, even when done for the best intentions. And the tragedy is that the students most likely to fall for the trickery are those whose parents or schools cannot or do not steer them otherwise.
As NCEA bedded down, it evolved through a series of compromises. Detailed in the report, these included the introduction of merit and excellence awards; the reintroduction of scholarship exams; and the implicit adoption of a two-tier system of achievement and unit standards.
These were compromises to NCEA’s original egalitarian design. But they satisfied the demands of aspirational and high achieving students while retaining NCEA’s ability to present almost all students as succeeding. Thus, NCEA creates glowing headline figures for government and schools while simultaneously masking the reality of widening disadvantage and falling standards.
In most developed countries, students are assessed on a core curriculum (a safety net) of academic subjects at age 15 or 16.
Core requirements
By comparison, NCEA’s only core requirement is for 10 Level 1 credits in literacy and numeracy. Before 2011, students at least had to pass some standards in English and maths. But even those have now been dropped in favour of a much looser and broader range. Nowadays standards entitled everything from “Actively participate in spoken interactions” to “Demonstrate knowledge of a dance genre or style” all qualify for literacy credits.
In the words of one English teacher interviewed for the report “A student can draw a picture with one or two words on it and get literacy credits.”
It should come as little surprise that employers lament school-leavers’ poor grasp of basic maths and English. Employers interviewed for the report described how they hire their own tutors and teachers to fill in school leavers’ most glaring gaps.
Ironically, 2014 research by our very own Tertiary Education Commission found that among a sample of 800 Year 12 students with NCEA Level 2, 40% failed to meet an international benchmark for functional literacy and 42% failed it for numeracy.
If NCEA, even at Level 2, is not predictive of the most basic functional skills, then surely it is time for a rethink.
The good news is that 2018 is the first year when NCEA will be statutorily reviewed by its owner – the Ministry of Education. The question is whether the Minister is prepared to go the distance to ensure NCEA can do justice to its founding purpose.
NCEA was designed to give all students a fair go; to match New Zealanders’ desire for equality. Leslie Lipson may no longer be with us for comment, but in his absence I will hazard a guess as to what he might have to say: “New Zealand’s ambition for equality is currently obscured by NCEA.”