At first glance, it might seem odd to be writing an article encouraging failure. For many, the word projects an image of unfulfilled potential, of missing out, of under-achieving, of not becoming what one might have become. But this is about the need for schools to be places where pupils can (and do) fail. In this article I will be considering the more general implications around the interpretations of failure, and in the next article I will focus more specifically on building a ‘failing forwards’ academic culture.
From an early age, children are frequently exposed to the negative implications of failure. For all the attempts in schools to rebrand it as First Attempts In Learning, the message so often conveyed to children in many areas of their lives is one of undesirable outcomes. All too often, the focus of failure is on the moment of failure, rather than on the reasons for or the response to that moment. Newspapers, newsfeeds, television broadcasts can sharpen that ill-directed focus through their pursuit of the quick and powerful image or story at the expense of the detail that gives that moment a meaningful (and learning-rich) context. It is the multiple explosions of the SpaceX starship rockets that makes the news, rather than the lessons learnt or the discussion, testing and modelling aimed at resolving the problem; it is the relentless media pressure surrounding a football manager going through a ‘bad patch’ of results, rather than on the work they are doing behind the scenes. Such simplistic images of failure, with the accompanying ‘banner-headline’ criticism, ridicule or condemnation are quickly absorbed by impressionable young people. It is hardly surprising, then, that children (and parents) can perceive failure to be something to be avoided at all costs.
It might be argued that this is no bad thing, and that we should not dress things up with different labels just so that people can feel better about themselves. My argument is that we need to reflect carefully on the potential damage caused to a child’s self-efficacy through ill-considered focus on the moment of ‘failure’, without any consideration given to the causes, circumstances, consequences and responses. In some cases, this damage can have a lasting impact on a child’s ability to deal with situations that demand resilience and that may result in initial failure.
This can be further exacerbated in school, when teachers focus exclusively on the marks achieved by pupils irrespective of the approach demonstrated to achieve them, or when a classroom atmosphere exists in which ‘getting it right’ carries more weight than ‘having a go’. It can be hard for a child to rid themselves of that zero-sum game: ‘good marks = intelligent, bad marks = stupid’, and that the learning journey of is therefore of little importance. Instead of asking for guidance or feedback, pupils often remain silent rather than ‘expose’ their ‘failure’ in a public way in the classroom.
It is not finding things hard or confusing that is the problem. It is the automatic, barely-noticed thought process which converts difficulty and mistakes into a self-critical judgement of inferiority. When students don’t see that it is the ‘interpretation’ not the fact of failure that is affecting their feelings, their determination to learn is always going to be brittle.[1]
Such messages can bury themselves deep in the mind if received at a young age, providing plenty of ammunition to Steve Peter’s ‘chimp’ as it sits on the pupil’s shoulder in later years[2]. They can also set in motion behaviours aimed at controlling or avoiding situations where failure might reoccur, the very situations so often needed for meaningful learning to happen. Fearing failure, believing that failing once means you are a ‘failure’, or avoiding challenge to circumvent failure are approaches to learning directed by such thoughts.
For some pupils, these behaviours lead to a relentless and unforgiving work ethic, driven by a feeling that they must overcome failure through more work, more practice, more time spent on the subject. Others adopt a ‘don’t try so don’t fail’ approach, sticking firmly to things they know rather than seeing failure as a ‘part of the process’. These beliefs about the purely negative connotations of failure can be reinforced unwittingly by misdirected parental praise or rewards given purely for results or outcomes.
In the rush to make people successful exam-passers, we have forgotten the deeper purpose of education; we have overlooked their deeper need to become successful people, eager to learn and grown in the real-life world of work, leisure and relationships – and to become successful people they need a rich set of useful, general-purpose habits of mind that will stand them in good stead whatever they want or need or turn their hand to[3].
Although many teachers would love to inspire their pupils with a love for their subject, we know that for most of them there will be a gradual forgetting of Newton’s laws, the rules for forming the future tense, or the consequences of William landing in England in 1066. If teachers are to do their job well, what should remain are transferrable hard and soft skills, strategies drawn from the pupils’ experiences (supported by those in authority) for setting and managing one’s own expectations, and for dealing with failure and success (and treating those two imposters…you know the rest). In addition, they should leave with a distinct awareness of ‘self’, and of the meta-cognitive skills that should be at play every time learning happens in school. Such a person might well be labelled a ‘self-aware learner’.
So how do we reframe the concept of failure so that it becomes a meaningful learning experience, valued by pupil and parent alike? How can we achieve the seemingly impossible aim of re-framing the right kind of failure as a desirable outcome, whilst spreading a more subtle definition amongst those primarily responsible for shaping the next generation?
We choose to do this by encouraging our pupils to recognise two approaches to failure, defined as failing forwards and failing backwards. One is the ‘right type’ of failure, and the other is definitely not! The concept is a simple one, but it demands strength of character, self-awareness and bravery if it is to have a long-term positive impact.
Classrooms are places where failures are often all too visible. The pupil who timidly raises a hand to answer a question may well spend the rest of the lesson squirming quietly at the swift ‘no’ that their incorrect answer elicited from the teacher. The test paper returned with the D or E grade can feel like a public certification of lack of ability in the subject, rather than the outcome of a set of random questions testing specific skills on a specific area of knowledge.
It is all too easy to fail backwards, to equate lack of success in a test with inability in the subject and to assume that one poor result or one wrong answer is indicative of a general trend. Others respond by deflecting ownership of failure by focusing on circumstances out of their control such as ‘poor teaching’, or ‘not having enough time to prepare for a test’.
For some pupils, failing backwards comes after a long period of success. For a while, as the tasks sit within a pupil’s comfort zone, outcome-based success comes easily and encourages the belief that the pupil can ‘do’ the subject. But as it gets harder and the marks drop, these pupils can be ill-prepared to know how to respond.
Th[e] challenge – to believe anything is possible – is huge and scary for both teachers and pupils. Pupils need to know that learning can be hard, can be painful, risks failure (and that this is part of the process) and can be boring, repetitive and frustrating, as well as fun and fascinating…Risk-taking is essential for learners if they are going to make maximum progress. Trying harder activities, reading difficult texts, solving ‘impossible’ problems…are the types of challenge that make pupils start to get the habits of persistence and resilience they need to be successful.[4]
Failing forwards is tougher and takes time to learn. If we are honest, we are probably never fully comfortable with the concept. It involves taking risks, taking responsibility, recognising that there are times when you have to be brave and that it might not work, whilst having the resilience to stick with the belief that failing forwards defines you positively as person. It means that you show the same determination you had when you kept getting up every time you fell down when learning to walk, or with every crashed gear or stalled engine at the roundabout. It’s about extending one’s comfort zone, not ‘going beyond’ it. Going beyond has a sense of disconnect with ‘safety’, whereas ‘extending’ suggests that you are using, shaping and challenging what you know so that you can know and do more. It needs everyone’s help, from the teacher who encourages those steps through constructive feedback and intelligent questions, to the other pupils in the class on the same journey, who will themselves seek that same support when they too are in a similar position.
Many schools believe that they encourage a ‘fail forwards’ culture only to confuse pupils with different messages in their everyday lives. Individual teachers may send different messages about whether they value process or outcome; end-of-term assemblies may focus on ‘unbeaten seasons’ rather than the players’ engagement and improvement; there may even be a prize culture that rewards only the top scorers. Such confused messages from the school can undermine the principle of ‘failing forwards’ unless they are clearly set within a context where outcome-focussed recognition is clearly signposted as such. I am not suggesting that outcomes should not be rewarded, but rather that schools need to conduct an audit of where such cultural misalignments might occur and to reflect on how they will be addressed, adapted, or explained so that they can sit coherently within the bigger cultural picture.
Similarly, school walls across the country are adorned with posters displaying Michael Jordan proudly celebrating his 10,000 failures or highlighting Edison’s bumpy journey towards revolutionising our lives. But any school which relies on these 2D representations of success from people so far removed from their pupils’ lives is missing the opportunity to use the most effective resource… its own pupils. Each pupil who sees the benefit of failing forwards becomes, through the changes visible in their approach in all the classrooms they occupy, a living embodiment of how such an approach can change everyone’s learning and confidence, and how ultimately embracing failure can lead to success. But in order to create a culture where failure is viewed positively and not seen as something to fear, it needs to be backed up by an everyday language used around the school, where teachers use the language of failing forwards or backwards. The testimony or actions of one current pupil in one classroom who has shifted their approach from failing backwards to failing forwards has a greater impact on their peers than a corridor full of posters of famous, ‘successful’ people.
Creating a culture of failing forwards empowers pupils at all stages of their learning and attainment. The importance of sometimes choosing the difficult path over the easy one, of being comfortable with making mistakes in order to improve rather than being frightened to investigate places where mistakes might be made, is a significant part of the learning journey. It is only really effective when pupils know that what matters for sustainable success is the process, not the outcome, and that embracing failure is a vital part of that process. If our aim is to equip young people for the challenges of the adult world, then one of the biggest responsibilities of a school is to create and celebrate a healthy approach to failure that lasts a lifetime.