Greater expectations

Teaching is a professional responsibility that goes beyond charisma or dedication—it requires skill, strategy, and accountability.

Take nothing on its looks; take everything on evidence. There's no better rule.
—Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

One January morning in 1800, a mysterious being emerged from the woods near Aveyron in France. The size of a twelve-year-old boy, dressed only in a torn shirt, this strange creature was unbothered by the winter cold and oblivious to his nakedness. He grunted but didn’t speak, and he ate ravenously, pulling potatoes from a fire with his bare hands. For obvious reasons, he became known as the “Wild Boy of Aveyron.”

Coinciding with the Age of Enlightenment, the discovery of the wild boy stimulated considerable controversy among philosophers and educators. Was he an example of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s “noble savage,” untainted by the social restrictions that had suffocated Europe for centuries? Would the boy learn to speak and look after himself as his innate abilities emerged, like Rousseau’s Émile? Or, following John Locke, was he a tabula rasa that needed to be filled in by carefully designed experiences?

Jean-Marc-Gaspard Itard, a Parisian doctor, undertook to answer these questions. He adopted the child, naming him Victor after a character in a play about a wild child. (Apparently, the woods were full of wild boys in those days.) With persistence and patience, Itard set out to civilise Victor using what he considered to be progressive teaching methods. He devised games to encourage the child to “discover” how to read and speak, and he took Victor on field trips, such as visits to the zoo, to help him learn the names of animals. Itard believed that a stimulating environment, progressive education, and a dedicated teacher could compensate for Victor's deprivation during his solitary years in the woods.

Unfortunately, Itard’s teaching program was unsuccessful. Victor only learned to say one word—lait (milk). After five years, the teacher and pupil parted ways. Victor remained in the care of Itard’s housekeeper until he died. He could not return to the woods, yet he never fit into the urban world of Paris. His sad fate called into question the efficacy of Itard’s teaching methods. However, modern educators have retrospectively let Itard off the hook. Instead of blaming the teacher, they assign the fault to Victor, whose supposed “autism” rendered him unable to learn.

The persistence of romanticism in education

Education has long been caught by utopian ideals rooted in Rousseau’s vision of the “noble savage.” Education, according to this view, requires freeing students from formal teaching methods and letting their natural learning abilities emerge. For over 200 years, these ideas influenced teaching despite little or no empirical evidence that they worked. Proponents relied on an emotional appeal: every child has the potential to self-actualise; all they need is love and the freedom to explore the world in their own “natural” way.

Even now, in the early 21st century, sentimental notions about learning remain resilient. One notable example is the persistence of whole language learning. Based on the idea that children learn to read by being exposed to texts and deriving meaning from context, whole language learning dominated education practice for decades. Teachers were encouraged to allow their students to “discover” how language worked, rather than breaking it down for them through explicit instruction.

This advice was more wishful thinking than effective pedagogy. The persistence of student failure in progressive education systems, especially among disadvantaged students who lacked exposure to rich literacy environments at home, forced a reevaluation and a shift in approach.

The shift to explicit teaching: everything is politics

Thomas Mann once said, “Everything is politics.” And this certainly includes education. The battle over how best to teach reading became a focal point in the so-called reading wars, a debate over equity and social justice. The conflict pitted proponents of phonics and other forms of direct instruction against advocates of whole language learning, but the debate extended far beyond pedagogy. It was, in many ways, a reflection of broader ideological divisions in society.

Teachers who support discovery learning tend to be progressives politically. They framed their approach as more inclusive, arguing that phonics was too rigid and failed to account for the diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds of many students. However, research demonstrated that whole language instruction was failing the very students it sought to help—particularly those from disadvantaged backgrounds who lacked access to rich literacy environments at home. For these and most other students, phonics provided the structured support they needed to develop foundational reading skills. As a result, phonics advocates were able to argue that their approach was more equitable and socially just, as it gave all students an equal opportunity to succeed.

Government policies and intervention played a significant role in the reading wars. In the United States, the debate became particularly heated in the early 2000s with the passage of the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB) under the George W. Bush administration. NCLB tied federal funding to schools’ adherence to scientifically based reading research, which overwhelmingly favoured phonics instruction. The act’s emphasis on standardised testing and accountability further solidified phonics as the dominant approach in many public schools.

Meanwhile, in Australia, John Sweller's Cognitive Load Theory became central to the argument for explicit teaching. Sweller’s research demonstrated that learning is most efficient when complex tasks are broken down into smaller, manageable parts, with teachers guiding students through these steps. His theory suggested that discovery learning often overwhelms students, especially those without prior knowledge because it assumes they can process large amounts of new information at once. In contrast, explicit teaching minimises cognitive overload by scaffolding instruction—ensuring students master each foundational skill before moving on. Sweller’s work gave educators a robust scientific framework to support their position.

Programs like MultiLit, pioneered by Kevin and Robyn Wheldall, provided a practical solution to improve literacy rates, particularly for students falling behind. MultiLit’s explicit teaching methods, grounded in phonics, offer step-by-step, teacher-led instruction and structured assessments, ensuring that students build critical literacy skills incrementally.

Thanks to the research and advocacy of education reformers such as Pamela Snow, Anne Castles, Max Coltheart and Jennifer Buckingham, “phonics checks” were introduced in Australian schools, helping identify children who need intervention before falling irrevocably behind. These reforms reflected a broader push for national standards, aiming to ensure that all students, particularly those from disadvantaged backgrounds, received the structured support needed to develop strong reading skills.

Perhaps inevitably, the debate over reading instruction became entwined with standardised testing and teacher accountability. Phonics advocates supported the use of standardised tests to measure student progress and hold schools accountable for student success. Whole language advocates, on the other hand, claimed that testing forced teachers to focus on test preparation rather than fostering a “holistic” love of learning. Pure humbug, you might say. And you would be correct.

As we move further into the 21st century, discovery learning is being supplanted by explicit, teacher-led education in which students are taught the building blocks of language step by step. This shift didn’t happen overnight. Rudolf Flesch’s Why Johnny Can't Read, And What You Can Do About It—a plea for explicit phonics-based teaching—was published in 1955! It took 70 years of data collection, advocacy, and proof that learning happens most effectively when teachers, rather than pupils, take the lead. Why did it take so long? The problem was and remains an aversion to accountability.

Even today, school principals continue to lobby parliamentarians against national assessments. They say that assessments stress students and public reporting of school performance embarrasses and stigmatises them. Of course, this is pure hypocrisy. The only ones who should be embarrassed by poor performance are the school principals and teachers.

What does accountability in education look like?

What does it mean to hold teachers accountable for their student's learning, and how can this be effectively implemented?

In a system where teachers are truly accountable, they are responsible for ensuring that every student has the opportunity to succeed. This doesn’t mean that teachers must be miracle workers, capable of overcoming every external obstacle, but it does mean that they must be responsive to student needs and adjust their methods when learning isn’t happening. Accountability means that teachers can’t simply blame students’ backgrounds, home environments, or psychological conditions when students fail. Instead, they must reflect on their teaching strategies and adapt.

In practice, teacher accountability requires a combination of clear expectations, ongoing professional development, and a system of assessments that provide regular feedback. In highly successful education systems, teachers are held accountable not through punitive measures, but through a culture of professional responsibility. Teachers are also expected to produce results—students must make measurable progress. If a student struggles, the teacher is responsible for revisiting the material, reteaching it, or using a different approach until the student achieves success.

Concluding thoughts: The challenge of teacher accountability

Victor’s story and Itard’s failure to teach him remind us that while idealism has a place in education, it must be balanced with evidence and accountability. Had Itard used more explicit, structured methods, Victor’s learning experience might have been different. More broadly, the persistence of romantic, child-led approaches across centuries has gradually yielded to the reality that teacher-led, explicit instruction is simply more effective for most students.

In today’s classrooms, holding teachers accountable for student learning means more than delivering content; it requires adopting a research-based, methodical approach to instruction. Teachers must not only present material clearly and effectively but also monitor student progress closely, adapting their methods when learning falters. Accountability in teaching is thus a responsibility rooted in skill, strategy, and evidence-based methods rather than charisma or intuition.

Moving towards explicit teaching models and establishing clear accountability ensures that education serves as a practical, powerful tool for helping every student reach their potential. By grounding education in proven methods and holding teachers responsible for outcomes, we can bridge the gap between idealism and effective learning, making education a transformative force that truly delivers on its promise.

Parts of this article originally appeared in the Australian Literary Review and the Spectator.