As a writer today, everyone suspects AI — especially if you use ‘that’ dash... It’s the AI giveaway, the canary in the digital coal mine; it’s the sign of the times. Anyone who spends time online — on LinkedIn, in forums — can spot AI when they see it, courtesy of that dash. But, the em dash has long been a habit of mine, and I don't intend to give it up. Read why here: foxly.link/nTrKqN

Why don't schools advertise like this iconic 1981 LEGO ad? It's brave, smart, sassy, and emotionally connected—celebrating real, messy childhood over glossy perfection. Time for honest education marketing? Thoughts? foxly.link/uiqYrc #EdMarketing #LEGO

Teachers like to moan. So do school leaders. And they both like to moan about each other. There’s a lot of moaning. When you’re working in education—with all its emotional labour, policies, bureaucracy, and issues—it’s easy to become jaded with a school, perhaps even with all schools. It’s important to remember, though, that like most organisations, schools might be full of contradictions, varying ambitions, and challenging behaviour, but they are also full of excellence, passion, and delightful people (yes, the students and the teachers). So, whilst it’s necessary and cathartic—healthy even—to boo at the bad parts, remember to also cheer for the good parts. There’s no inconsistency in challenging, say, a school’s assessment structure or timetable while also acknowledging the strength of its safeguarding frameworks, exam results, or curriculum innovation. Schools are never monolithic; they are a mix of ambitions, contradictions, and competing priorities. So, next time you are having a ‘good old moan’, remember it is possible to hold multiple truths at once—to applaud what’s working, push back where it’s not, and to resist the comfort of a single, simplistic narrative. It may not (all be) as bad as you think. ----------------------- Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p ------------------------

This week's wisdom is a thought exercise. It's a way of reframing the decision making process. Interested to hear your thoughts in the comments. --------- A hypothesis is the cornerstone of the scientific method; an educated guess about how the world works. We know that a hypothesis must be testable to have value, but there is a much stronger requirement that a hypothesis must meet. A hypothesis is scientific only if it can be disproven. The proof lies in being able to disprove. Why does this matter? Because it's a higher benchmark than simply 'proving' an idea, but doesn't close down curiosity. Say a teacher comes to you with an idea or initiative. It's worth pursuing but you also know that, if asked to prove the idea, they'll easily do so - not least of all because of the obvious bias, it was their idea. So, ask them to disprove it. "That's a hypothesis worth disproving" Ask them to find instances where the idea won't work. The opposites. The edge cases. Ask for degrees of certainty, not absolutes. Probe the corners. Draw out bias and bad data. Then, discuss and debate the grey areas. If an idea can be both proven and disproven, it far more likely to be a good idea. ------------------------ Wisdom, weekly Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------

A wise Head once told me: “They don’t respect you at the bottom, they ignore you in the middle, and they hate you at the top.” I’d been promoted internally. I was also young, younger than many of those I was managing. I’d had people’s support on the way up, they’d even advocated for my promotion. But, that all quickly disappeared when I reached the top. I could feel that they were no longer rooting for me. That I was now the manger, and they the managed. I was now the tallest blade of grass, which, as they saw it, needed to be cut down to size. When I retold this experience during my NPQH, another wise Head shared an anecdote about William Golding, author of Lord of the Flies. He’d just won the Nobel Prize in Literature, and was asked what it felt like to receive such an honor. His response was telling: "You find out who hates you.” In short, you’ll never have everyone’s approval. Focus on what you are doing. Yes, stay humble. Yes, listen to those around you. Yes, seek feedback. And absolutely yes, lead with compassion not ego. But, focus on what you can control. The naysayers, the haters, it’s all just noise. Lead well and, hopefully, they won’t actually hate you—but, coming to terms with leadership is, in part, coming to accept that you (or at least your decisions) won’t always be liked. ------------------------ Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------

When you’re right about something (or think you are), there’s a temptation to be less than humble. To feel superior, inflated, vindicated. To feel like THE BOSS. Whether it’s a fact you’ve recalled, a point you’ve argued, or a prediction come true, when you’re right, it feels oh so, well, right. You feel pride, accomplishment … power. And therein lies the trap. When we are right, the temptation is to gloat. To allow our egos to inflate. To be smug. To allow right to become might. Over time, we come to assume that it is our right to be right. That our words carry the most weight. That our voice is the strongest. That our opinion is the right opinion. We close our ears and our minds. We can’t be wrong. In the process, we become disliked. People turn against us. We turn right into spite. Our victory comes at their expense. They push back. They come to meetings better armed, with ammunition to prove us wrong. They set traps; they trip us up. They wait to prove us wrong. They can’t wait for us to be wrong. Eventually, we run out of right. One day, we are wrong. We fail, we fall. And nobody is there to catch us. Any goodwill is gone. Eventually, we are all humbled. So, when you are right, be gracious. Don’t draw attention to your win and someone else’s loss. Be classy. Pick the other person up, don’t put them down. Celebrate their contribution, not your brilliance. Lead with kindness, especially when you are right. The kinder you are when you get your way, the more likely you are to get your way in the future. The leader who doesn’t enjoy their victory too much is a leader who deserves that victory. Be humble, or be humbled - especially when you are right. And, if you find my argument a little sparse, remember, nobody likes a smart… ------------------------ Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------

Delta is a fancy word. It just means difference. Yet, we see in used everywhere. Speed variances between cars in F1 are the ‘delta’. A delayed project has a ‘delta’ against targets. Even the weather can have a delta: the delta in temperature between Bangkok and Birmingham is significant. No kidding! Delta this, delta that. So, it’s trendy to use 'delta'. So what? Whether you use the word or not, it is useful to have differences in mind. It’s useful to ask the question: What’s the/their delta? A few examples: - When comparing yourself with another school, identify the points of difference. - When comparing candidates for a job, reflect on the contrasts. - When comparing exam results over time, analyse the variances (as well as the absolutes). Notice here the questions don’t assume answers, positive or negative. Delta is neutral. That’s important. The exercise is to identify difference, for better and for worse. ------------------------ Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------

Every human decision is a gut decision. It's all a judgement call. We wrap decisions up in the safety blanket of metrics, data, and measurements. We test, examine, and we moderate. We do our best to objectify decisions. We write policies and implement procedures. We have systems and structures. We put candidates through multiple rounds of interview, we get them to jump through hoops. And, true, all of that informs, but if there's a human behind the decision, it's ultimately a judgement call. The chose between three perfect-on-paper recruitment candidates comes down to 'fit', a subjective measure. Sanctions handed out to students are filtered through emotion and context, no matter what the policy might say. Test scores may provide a degree of objectivity, but, even if AI marks them, humans interpret them and feedback on them. The culture of a school is, at base, a collective judgement about what, how, why, who, and when. Each of these builds on prior judgements made by others, all unique in their own subjectivities, proclivities, experiences, and expectations. Give ten schools the same students, the same policies, and the same structures but different teachers, and you're going to have ten vastly different schools. Why does this matter? Because, if we recognise and accept this then maybe we can strip away some of the bureaucracy. We can accept that it's faux and forced. That it serves no one. That schools are about people (big people and little people), which means managing judgements. We can stop hiding behind the data. We can peek out from behind the policy and procedure and talk to people - we can create a culture of conversation. ------------------------ Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------

A term. Yes, just one term. That’s the timeframe over which you should judge culture. The last few months. Why a term? It's enough time for patterns to emerge, for things to shift. But, it’s current enough to take an accurate temperature. Any longer and it’s rhetoric - what you think culture was, not what it actually is. And it’s a moving target. Last term may not be like the next. Culture happens. It's emergent. It's what you've been collectively doing as a school over the last term. What behaviors are modelled (or let slide)? How are people treated? What have you celebrated? Where's the bar on quality? What routines are reinforced? How do you support students and staff? Who have you hired (or fired) and why? What have you let go on too long? How do you help people? What do you do when people are stressed? Which messages are repeated (overtly or covertly)? What’s the general mood? It's all that and much else besides. It’s the net effect (and affect) of stuff that’s happened. Not what you wished had happened. Not what your slick slogans on posters in corridors say should happen. It’s what actually did happen. As history, culture is a journal which writes itself. As future, culture is how people respond to reading that journal. If we must define it then culture is perhaps something like: “A shared belief towards a common goal and an understanding of how to reach it.” But, that’s a little utopian. Rarely are beliefs completely shared. Nor are understandings. Culture is much messier. It’s interpersonal. It’s expressed and felt differently by different people, and at different times. Can culture be changed. Yes. But slowly…and sometimes painfully. It requires a finger on the pulse. And a willingness to realign and remind, regularly. It requires mutual effort. And a combined willingness to critique (the list above is a good starting place). You cannot change a culture alone. At its best, a strong school culture requires everyone to be rowing in the same direction. That doesn’t mean everyone agrees on the direction. Nor does everyone need to be stroking perfectly or equally. Some people will work harder than others. Some people will be happier than others. Some people will simply be better at their jobs than others. But, if last term, you were moving forward together, and in the right direction, your culture is probably sound. Or at least it was last term. Next term, who knows. ------------------------ Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------

This week's second 'wisdom' piece is another guest post from Paul Halford. He recently published 'My Educated Life', and what a life he's had. Here's a quick intro to a critical incident we hope none of you ever experience. In Paul's words: Emergencies are unpredictable. The best we can do is to have a plan to deal with these sudden events. A plan which is a proactive, not a reactive response. In Japanese the word ‘ran’ describes a knot in timber. The ran interrupts the smooth grain The Japanese also use ‘ran’ to describe a crisis. The regular flow of life is suddenly interrupted. My school in Papua New Guinea provided bus pick-ups for teachers and their children. One morning a bus did not arrive at the expected time. The driver was not responding to calls. The bus had been hijacked. We sent another bus to the area with armed security guards on board. They found the staff by the side of the road. The driver had been attacked and had a head wound. One of the female teachers had been sexually assaulted in front of her children. Another female teacher had a broken arm. Every adult on the bus had been robbed of their money and phones. An emergency was unfolding with wounded and traumatized staff This was the day of the ran. My first action was to print copies of our ‘Critical Incident Protocol’ – the plan that would guide us through the ‘ran’. I convened a meeting of the senior staff to revise our roles and responsibilities. There was: · a triage station to set up; · wounds to be treated; · transport to hospital to arrange; · victims to be counselled; · relatives to contact; · police to notify; · staff to reassure; · classes without teachers; · timetables to reschedule; · parents seeking reassurance; · reporter’s questions to answer; · a Board of Governors to inform. We were prepared. The Critical Incident Plan laid out what should happen and who should do it. We hoped never to use it but were glad to have it when the day came. I have talked with school leaders who don’t have a plan. It is a very optimistic outlook. A school with an enrolment of 350 students, has a similar number of parents, and 40 to 50 staff. To believe the lives of 700 people will run safely is naïve. The crisis may not be as extreme as a hijacking, but being prepared is critical, nonetheless. I’ve known schools where: a student was fatally locked in a school bus; a heartbroken adolescent breached school security in search of the heartbreaker, a popular student died in a car accident two weeks before her cohort’s final exams. The schools that responded best were those with a Critical Incident Plan. The lesson: It pays to have a plan, no matter how remote the possibility of an event occurring. --------------------- MY EDUCATED LIFE For more 'lessons from a life of leadership' grab a copy of the book here: foxly.link/MyEducatedLife ---------------------

There's always more work than time. So much work. So little time. But, work also fills the time available to it. The best leaders — and the best schools — know that success is as much about what you don't do as what you do. They know that everything is possible, but nothing is free. A little more quickly becomes a lot more. It becomes overkill. Overkill is five-page policy that should have been one. The EdTech that was purchased but never used. The eight different systems used for reports, attendance, and behaviour. The over-designed lesson planning requirements. The seven-stage interview process when the decision was made after two. The nine person meeting an e-mail would have replaced. The current vogue is 'deimplementation'. Or, more simply the disciplined pursuit of less. For wise leaders, every day is an opportunity to find 'just right'. To slim down. To sharpen. To remove policy and process. To minimise, not maximise. It's how you make a lot more progress with a lot less effort. Every idea, every initiative, every process, every bloated policy costs something. Time, obviously. Money, often. Headspace, certainly. Wellbeing, sadly. Everything is possible, nothing is free. Where can you subtract not add? ------------------------ Thoughts on leadership, done differently Follow or, sign-up to join my newsletter; wisdom direct to your Inbox weekly (no spam, just nudges to think a little differently): sendfox.com/lp/3ed08p -------------------------