Understanding Our Past, Questioning Our Present and Activating Educational Transformation Through the Six Stages Framework
Through the Six Stages Framework Lens | Part Two
Dr Shungu Hilda M’gadzah | November 2026
To understand where we are going, we must understand where we have come from.
In my recent reflection, WR019 | 400 Years Later: Why Are We Still Surprised by Voices of Bias and Exclusion?, I explored the recurring patterns of racism and exclusion, drawing on Sir Ian McKellen’s moving performance of a speech from Sir Thomas More, widely attributed to William Shakespeare. This article explores the past and future of Educational Psychology.
The speech challenges a hostile crowd to imagine what it would mean to become strangers themselves, rejected by those who believe they have a greater right to belong. What struck me was how familiar those patterns sounded, despite the passage of centuries.
It made me wonder whether we have become so accustomed to expressing shock at injustice that we sometimes confuse our emotional responses with meaningful action. I began exploring what I called the Cave of Perpetual Shock, where we recognise exclusion, express concern and perhaps even become deeply energised, yet return to familiar environments without necessarily challenging the conditions that allow the injustice to continue.
I now want to turn that question towards my own profession: Educational Psychology.
As Educational Psychologists, we frequently describe ourselves as caring, reflective, compassionate and committed to inclusion. We possess considerable knowledge of child development, learning, cognition, emotion, behaviour and the relationship between individuals and their environments. But how effectively are we using that knowledge to transform education? And perhaps more uncomfortably, have we become so accustomed to the roles assigned to us that we have stopped questioning what our profession could contribute?
Recently, I listened to a conversation with educationalist and activist Bernard Coard, made freely available by edpsy for Black History Month. His challenge to Educational Psychologists was both inspiring and unsettling. It also took me back to reflections I had written in September 2025 about the history of our profession, the influence of Cyril Burt, our increasing dependence on statutory assessment and the need to articulate what is uniquely psychological about our contribution.
I have become increasingly convinced that to understand where Educational Psychology needs to go, we must be prepared to examine where it has come from. And that means confronting some uncomfortable aspects of our professional history and identity.
Cyril Burt: the foundations of Educational Psychology
Sir Cyril Burt is widely recognised as one of the founding figures of British Educational Psychology. His appointment to the London County Council in 1913 marked an important moment in the development of psychology as an applied profession. His work contributed to the growth of psychological assessment, child guidance and the use of psychological knowledge within education. He also developed influential approaches to measuring intelligence and identifying differences between children.
But there is another aspect of his legacy that requires critical examination.
Burt’s thinking was influenced by Francis Galton and traditions of hereditarian psychology and eugenics. He held views about inherited intelligence, social class and human ability that have become deeply controversial, not least because of their implications for how children were classified, educated and afforded opportunities.
The historical debate about Burt’s research, including allegations concerning the integrity of his twin studies, is complex. His wider contributions cannot be reduced entirely to those controversies, and historical scholarship has questioned some of the claims made about his precise influence on education policy.
Nevertheless, his documented association with eugenic thinking and biological determinism raises questions that cannot simply be set aside.
Historian Mike Chamarette’s research, Cyril Burt: The Making of Hereditary Intelligence, Education and Merit in Britain, 1909–1976, provides a detailed examination of Burt’s intellectual commitments and their relationship with education and social hierarchy. Chamarette demonstrates that Burt remained committed to hereditarian explanations of intelligence and eugenic social policies, while also challenging some earlier historical accounts that attributed too much direct influence to Burt over educational policy.
This matters because psychological knowledge is not developed or applied in a social vacuum. The questions we ask, the tests we construct, the assumptions we make and the interpretations we offer are influenced by the historical and social environments in which we work.
Indeed, the British Psychological Society itself has acknowledged the role of psychologists and psychological testing in the discriminatory classification of Black Caribbean children as educationally subnormal. In an account of its work addressing psychology’s historical relationship with racism, the Society recognised the importance of confronting this legacy rather than treating it as an unfortunate but disconnected aspect of the past.
Psychology has undoubtedly developed considerably since Burt’s time. Modern Educational Psychologists draw upon diverse theories, ethical principles, collaborative practices and increasingly ecological approaches to understanding children and their environments. But I wonder how often we examine the historical assumptions that helped establish our professional identity.
How much of our practice continues to focus on identifying what is different or deficient within the child rather than examining the educational environment in which that child is expected to learn? How frequently do we question the expectations adults hold about children’s abilities, particularly where race, class, disability, language or other characteristics may influence their judgements? And how confident are we that our assessment practices do not inadvertently reinforce assumptions that disadvantage those we are seeking to support?
These questions connect with a wider critique of psychology’s history, including the tendency to categorise people and treat particular experiences or characteristics as indicators of ability, normality or worth. Phil Banyard addresses these concerns in Controversy and Psychology, including the question of racism within psychological knowledge and practice.
I think Educational Psychologists need to ask a related question: Have we sufficiently examined how the historical foundations of our profession continue to influence what we consider to be our legitimate professional responsibilities?
If we have inherited a tradition in which psychologists were principally expected to assess, classify and advise on individual children, how much has that shaped our understanding of what Educational Psychology is for? And what might we be missing if we rarely challenge that understanding?
Bernard Coard: fifty years later, what has really changed?
This brings me to Bernard Coard.
In 1971, Coard published How the West Indian Child Is Made Educationally Sub-normal in the British School System, exposing discriminatory practices that contributed to Black Caribbean children being classified and placed in schools for children labelled as having substantially reduced educational ability.
His work challenged not simply individual prejudices but the educational systems, assessment processes and expectations through which racial inequality was reproduced.
What particularly interested me about his recent conversation with Dr Abi Miranda and Dr Sathya Gunetilleke was his insistence that, while generations of teachers, educational leaders and other professionals have changed, some underlying patterns of educational disadvantage remain.
He argued that this persistence points towards systemic problems rather than simply the failings of particular individuals.
I think this is an important distinction. We can replace individual teachers, headteachers, psychologists and education leaders without necessarily changing the assumptions, expectations, structures and practices through which inequality is maintained. We can also improve aspects of professional practice while leaving wider conditions substantially unchanged.
Coard’s historical analysis should not lead us to assume that nothing has improved over the last fifty years. Educational legislation, professional standards, inclusion practices and the rights of children and families have changed considerably. But progress does not mean that we have eliminated inequity, nor does changing the terminology through which children are described necessarily mean that the underlying assumptions have disappeared.
The historical category of educationally subnormal is no longer part of contemporary educational practice. However, Coard asks us to consider whether children may still encounter low expectations, inappropriate educational pathways or exclusionary practices in different forms.
This makes me wonder whether we have sufficiently examined the relationship between classification, professional judgement and opportunity. Are we simply using more acceptable language to describe children while continuing to make assumptions about their potential? Or have we fundamentally changed the ways we understand their needs, capabilities and educational environments?
These questions are particularly important when considering children who are autistic, have additional learning needs, communicate differently or belong to communities whose experiences and cultural knowledge may not be fully represented within mainstream assessment practices.
A psychologically informed assessment must do more than identify difficulties. It must examine the circumstances in which those difficulties are experienced, how adults interpret them, and what opportunities the child is being given to learn, participate and develop.
Children’s self-worth: what are our educational environments creating?
One of Coard’s strongest messages concerned the importance of children’s self-image, self-worth, self-belief, confidence and emotional State. He described how children and young people who had experienced educational disadvantage sometimes approached learning with very limited confidence in their own capabilities. He also spoke about the importance of the expectations placed upon children by teachers, headteachers, educational institutions and wider systems.
This is a particularly important psychological contribution because a child’s sense of self does not develop independently of the environments they experience. Children encounter messages about who they are, what they can achieve, whether they belong and how others perceive their abilities. Some messages are explicit, while others are communicated through everyday interactions, classroom practices, curriculum representation, assessment decisions and adult expectations.
A child may repeatedly experience low expectations without anyone explicitly telling them that they are incapable. They may notice which children are praised, which are challenged, whose mistakes are tolerated and whose behaviour is interpreted as problematic. They may experience their language, appearance, identity or cultural experiences as being misunderstood or undervalued. Over time, these experiences may influence self-belief, motivation, emotional wellbeing and engagement with learning.
This is where I see a strong connection with my developing work on Human Climate Intelligence (HCI). Our human environments are shaped by the interaction between cognition, emotion and survival regulation. They influence how individuals interpret their experiences, what matters to them and whether they experience sufficient safety to engage, explore and learn.
If children repeatedly encounter adults who expect less of them, how might this influence their willingness to attempt challenging work? If a child experiences school as an environment in which their identity is marginalised, what might that mean for their sense of belonging? If a child is repeatedly told, directly or indirectly, that their behaviour is problematic, how might that influence their developing self-image? And perhaps most importantly, what responsibilities do adults have for recognising and changing the conditions through which these experiences are created?
I have explored similar questions throughout my work as an Educational Psychologist and Expert Witness.
When assessing a child’s educational needs, it is not enough to examine cognitive ability, attainment, behaviour or emotional functioning in isolation. We must also consider whether the educational environment is responding appropriately to the child’s needs, whether adults maintain realistic but ambitious expectations, and whether the provision available enables meaningful progress.
Sometimes a child may be described as having limited motivation or confidence when their experiences suggest that they have repeatedly encountered environments in which success has felt unattainable. Sometimes a child may appear disengaged because the teaching approach, relationships or expectations are not appropriately matched to their needs. And sometimes the child’s emotional response tells us as much about the environment as it does about the child.
This does not mean that all difficulties arise from environmental factors or that we should disregard individual developmental or learning needs. It means that psychologically informed assessment requires us to examine the relationship between the individual and the environment.
We must consider not simply what a child finds difficult, but what the environment may be making difficult for that child.
Supporting resilience while changing harmful environments
Coard compared racism to a pandemic and emphasised the importance of helping Black children develop pride in their identity, self-worth and confidence.
His comments resonated strongly with ideas I explored in my book If Racism Was a Virus, in which I examined the transmission of racist beliefs, warning signs, exposure, protective responses and the environments through which prejudice can spread.
I agree that developing a positive sense of self can be an important protective resource. Children need to experience their identities as valued and develop confidence in their capabilities. They need access to positive representations of their histories, communities and achievements, as well as adults who recognise their strengths and communicate appropriately ambitious expectations.
But I think we must also be careful.
Strengthening children’s resilience to racism must not become a substitute for addressing the environments in which racism occurs.
A child with a strong sense of racial identity may still be disadvantaged by discriminatory assessment practices, inappropriate educational expectations or exclusionary school policies. Confidence does not remove structural barriers, and self-esteem does not guarantee equal opportunities. A child should not be required to demonstrate exceptional resilience simply to experience the dignity and fairness that others may take for granted.
Perhaps we need to consider resilience and environmental change as complementary responsibilities. We can support children to recognise their strengths, develop positive identities and maintain confidence when faced with harmful experiences. At the same time, we must examine and change the educational practices through which those experiences arise.
This may involve challenging discriminatory expectations, reviewing assessment processes, evaluating differences in access to educational provision and ensuring that children and families are listened to when they raise concerns.
Importantly, we cannot guarantee that every adult’s prejudiced beliefs will disappear. But we can develop procedures, relationships and professional practices that reduce the opportunities for prejudice to determine a child’s educational experiences.
We may not be able to eliminate every harmful belief, but we can work to ensure that such beliefs have less power to determine children’s opportunities, wellbeing and sense of belonging.
Have Educational Psychologists become too comfortable with the roles assigned to us?
In September 2025, I found myself reflecting on the future of Educational Psychology. Discussions about SEND reform, local authority budgets, statutory assessments and the changing educational landscape had prompted questions about the profession’s distinctive contribution.
Some colleagues were understandably concerned about the possibility of changes to the statutory role of Educational Psychologists, while others welcomed the prospect that the profession might eventually become less dependent upon producing statutory advice.
One colleague questioned whether reduced dependence on statutory work might offer an opportunity to demonstrate the value of Educational Psychology beyond the number of reports produced each year. I thought that was an important observation.
Under the current Special Educational Needs and Disability Regulations 2014, educational psychological advice forms part of the information sought during an Education, Health and Care needs assessment, subject to the provisions of those regulations. This has provided a clearly defined statutory role for the profession.
But the existence of a statutory requirement should not be confused with a complete definition of our professional contribution.
I have no doubt about the importance of high-quality educational psychological advice within the EHCP process. When undertaken properly, it requires complex assessment, consultation, psychological formulation, professional judgement and precise recommendations about provision and outcomes. Such work can make an enormous difference to children and families.
However, I have also become concerned that the demands of statutory assessment may have narrowed the opportunities available to Educational Psychologists to practise the wider range of skills for which we are trained.
We may become highly skilled at producing reports while having limited opportunities to evaluate whether the recommendations are implemented or whether they contribute to meaningful change. We may identify systemic concerns across multiple cases without being commissioned to examine those concerns collectively. And we may spend considerable time describing children’s needs while having comparatively little influence over the educational environments in which those needs arise.
The government’s 2026 SEND reform proposals also raise questions about how Educational Psychologists might contribute more directly to early intervention and support within educational settings.
The proposals include a greater emphasis on inclusive mainstream education, earlier specialist support and the Experts at Hand model, alongside plans to increase the Educational Psychology workforce. These are proposals rather than completed legislative changes, but they provide an opportunity to reconsider where and how psychological expertise could have the greatest impact.
This makes the question of professional identity increasingly important.
If our profession were no longer primarily defined by the reports we produce, how would we demonstrate our value?
I think the answer lies in reclaiming and extending our capacity for psychological formulation, evaluation, intervention and systemic change.
Where is the psychology?
I have also been thinking about the growing influence of artificial intelligence.
AI systems can assist with drafting reports, organising information, identifying patterns and supporting aspects of administrative work. This does not mean that they can replace the professional judgement, ethical responsibility, relational understanding and contextual formulation required of an Educational Psychologist.
But it raises an important question about what we consider to be our distinctive expertise.
If the primary product associated with Educational Psychology becomes a written report, and increasingly sophisticated technologies can assist in producing that report, how do we demonstrate the value of the psychological work underpinning it?
The answer cannot simply be that we are caring professionals, nor can it be that we possess particular qualifications. Our professional value must be demonstrated through the quality of our psychological understanding, our ability to identify meaningful relationships between individual and environmental factors, and our contribution to decisions and interventions that improve people’s lives.
I was reminded of this during an expert discussion involving questions about appropriate educational provision. Different professionals brought valuable expertise to the discussion. However, when the conversation moved towards evaluating the relative effectiveness of educational environments, identifying the child’s learning needs and considering the evidence required to determine which provision might be more appropriate, the distinctive contribution of Educational Psychology became particularly apparent.
We have skills in understanding development, learning, motivation, cognition, emotion and behaviour. We can examine patterns in educational data, evaluate interventions and investigate the relationships between children and the environments in which they learn.
We can contribute to questions such as whether a particular educational approach is effective, whether progress is sufficiently meaningful, whether outcomes are appropriately ambitious and whether the provision being offered matches the child’s needs.
These are psychological questions, and they extend far beyond the production of statutory advice.
I wonder whether we have become so accustomed to being commissioned for particular tasks that we have sometimes overlooked the wider contribution our expertise could make.
Perhaps the challenge is not simply to protect the existing role of Educational Psychology, but to demonstrate what becomes possible when we use more of our psychological expertise.
Bernard Coard’s challenge: define our own roles
Towards the end of his edpsy conversation, Coard challenged Educational Psychologists to think beyond their established roles. He encouraged professionals to organise, work collaboratively with communities, recruit others with relevant expertise, develop strategic plans and establish pilot projects in areas experiencing significant educational disadvantage.
I was particularly interested in his account of how his original work emerged.
He explained that Caribbean community organisations identified the educational injustices affecting their children and encouraged him to use his research and writing skills to investigate what was happening. The resulting publication was not simply an individual academic exercise. It emerged through community organisation, shared knowledge, collective resources and a determination to challenge discriminatory practices.
When conventional book distribution routes proved difficult to access, community organisations developed alternative means of distributing the work. They also supported educational initiatives, including supplementary schools.
This is important because Coard was describing more than awareness or critique. He was describing collective activation.
People recognised injustice, identified available resources, organised themselves and took action.
There is a lesson here for Educational Psychologists. We do not necessarily have to wait for institutions to define every aspect of our professional contribution. We can identify unmet needs, work with communities, develop psychologically informed approaches and generate evidence about what works.
Of course, professional responsibilities, commissioning arrangements, statutory duties and organisational constraints are real. We cannot simply disregard them. But perhaps we can become more intentional about how we use the influence and opportunities available to us, and perhaps we can work collectively to create opportunities that do not currently exist.
Coard’s suggestion of developing local pilots is particularly valuable. Rather than remaining at the level of broad professional aspirations, why not identify a specific educational inequality, develop an intervention, evaluate its impact and use the findings to inform wider practice?
This is where I believe the Six Stages Framework could make a practical contribution.
What can the Six Stages Framework contribute?
The Six Stages Framework was developed to explore how awareness, beliefs, attitudes, behaviours and experiences influence people’s responses to difference, challenge and change.
Its continuum provides a way of examining possible movement towards or away from inclusion. But the framework is not simply about locating individuals at a particular Stage. It also invites us to explore the psychological processes and environmental conditions that influence our responses.
Within educational settings, this could help us examine why discriminatory assumptions persist, why professionals may respond defensively to challenge and what enables greater reflection, understanding and responsibility.
For example, a teacher may be unaware that their expectations of particular pupils are influenced by stereotypes or earlier experiences. Through reflective questioning, they may begin recognising those assumptions and experience discomfort when their beliefs are challenged.
But recognition alone does not guarantee changed practice.
The teacher may develop greater understanding yet continue to use familiar approaches within the classroom. They may become more reflective but feel constrained by organisational expectations, peer attitudes or fears about challenging established practices. Or they may begin translating their developing understanding into changed interactions, expectations and educational opportunities.
Through the SSF, we can explore these possibilities without assuming that movement is necessarily linear or permanent.
At +1, Emerging Awareness, previously unrecognised assumptions may begin to become visible. At +2, Discomfort & Awakening, those assumptions may be challenged, creating opportunities for further reflection or defensive responses. At +3, Developing Understanding, professionals may begin examining how their assumptions interact with children’s experiences and the wider educational environment.
At +4, Engaged & Reflective, understanding may increasingly inform deliberate changes in practice. At +5, Systems Thinker & Advocate, attention extends beyond individual interactions towards patterns within classrooms, services and organisations. At +6, Transformational Leader, the emphasis may include developing and sustaining wider changes in educational cultures and systems.
These are not automatic steps or a prescribed sequence. The framework recognises movement across different contexts and the possibility that individuals may occupy different positions in relation to different issues.
We must also consider the negative axis, including dismissive, avoidant and blaming responses that may emerge when individuals feel challenged or threatened. And we must consider the emotional States and human Environments through which these responses are experienced.
This is particularly important where people recognise an inequality but feel unable or unwilling to challenge it.
The SSF can help us examine the relationship between professional identity, belonging, loyalty, fear, psychological safety and action. It can also help us ask whether our interventions are changing only what people say they believe, or whether they are changing what they do.
From reflection to measurable educational change
I think this is where the next stage of SSF application needs to become particularly practical.
We could begin by identifying an educational issue where children experience unequal expectations, reduced belonging or disproportionately negative outcomes. For example, a school or local authority might want to understand differences in exclusion, behaviour-related referrals, participation, attainment or access to particular forms of educational support.
The first task would be to examine the evidence carefully, including the experiences of children and families. We would want to understand the patterns rather than make assumptions about their causes.
We could then use SSF-informed consultation and reflective questioning to explore adult beliefs, expectations, interpretations and professional practices.
However, the work must not end with awareness.
We would need to identify specific changes that adults and organisations are prepared to make. These might include reviewing referral criteria, changing approaches to communication, developing more inclusive teaching practices, improving cultural understanding or strengthening systems for responding to discrimination.
We would also want to support children’s self-worth, identity and emotional wellbeing through affirming educational experiences and appropriately ambitious expectations.
But most importantly, we would need to evaluate what happens afterwards.
Do children report a stronger sense of belonging and psychological safety? Are adults communicating different expectations? Are children experiencing more meaningful opportunities to participate and achieve? Are patterns of exclusion or inappropriate referrals changing? Are families more confident that their concerns are heard and acted upon? And are the agreed changes actually being implemented?
Such evaluation would require appropriate starting points, repeated observations, children’s and families’ perspectives, careful analysis of outcomes and attention to wider factors that might influence any changes.
We should not assume that improvements are caused by the SSF simply because they occur after an SSF-informed intervention. But we can begin generating evidence about what changes, for whom, under which conditions and with what limitations.
The existing SSF Questioning Toolkit, Inclusion Profile, reflective resources and developing Human Climate Intelligence formulation could contribute to this work.
The challenge is to move from using these tools principally to stimulate reflection towards examining how they might support identifiable and sustained changes in professional behaviour and educational environments.
If we are serious about transformation, our evaluation must extend beyond whether adults found the training interesting or felt more confident afterwards. We also need to ask what changed for the children and families concerned.
Two vessels: which one represents our profession?
This brings me back to an image I have been developing alongside these reflections.
Two vessels.
The first is labelled The Caring Professional. It is filled with empathy, concern, professional values, inclusive language and expressions of solidarity. It contains many of the qualities we associate with being a good Educational Psychologist.
The professional attends training, contributes to discussions, expresses concern about injustice and may participate in vigils or other public events. They may be entirely sincere.
But what happens if the vessel remains full, with little of its energy translating into sustained action?
The second vessel is labelled The Activated Professional. It contains many of the same values and psychological resources, but its energy is directed towards responsibility, challenge, intervention, evaluation and change.
It is connected to the environments and people beyond the vessel itself. And crucially, it receives feedback from those experiencing the consequences of professional practice.
I do not intend these vessels to represent two fixed types of people. We may occupy different positions in different circumstances. Someone may be highly active in one area while remaining a passive observer in another.
Nor is every form of activism public or dramatic.
Sometimes meaningful action involves careful consultation, challenging an assessment conclusion, supporting a family, evaluating provision, advocating for a child or quietly questioning an established practice.
But the distinction matters.
We can become vessels filled with the language of inclusion while remaining reluctant to release the energy required to create it.
And perhaps the most uncomfortable possibility is that our identification as caring professionals sometimes protects us from examining whether our actions match our values.
We know that we are qualified. We know that we care. We know that we believe in inclusion.
But what do the children and families we serve actually experience? What do the outcomes tell us? And what happens when someone challenges our professional assumptions or practices?
Do we welcome that challenge as an opportunity to learn, or do we experience it as a threat to our professional identity and belonging?
These questions connect directly with my My Dear White Friend reflections on loyalty and belonging, particularly the tension between protecting the reputation of a group and challenging its practices.
In those letters, I have explored how questioning the accepted beliefs and behaviours of professional groups may sometimes be interpreted as disloyalty. I have also reflected on how individuals may express support privately while remaining reluctant to challenge the group publicly.
There may be many reasons for this, including fear, uncertainty, disagreement or perceived professional risk.
But the underlying question remains important.
Can we genuinely describe ourselves as a reflective and inclusive profession if challenging our practices is experienced as a threat to professional belonging?
Perhaps professional loyalty should not be measured by how readily we defend our profession. Perhaps it should also be demonstrated through our willingness to challenge it when doing so is necessary to protect the people we serve.
Are we prepared to challenge our own professional cave?
I find myself returning to the idea of comfortable caves.
Educational Psychologists have developed sophisticated ways of describing children’s needs, facilitating consultations and supporting educational planning. There is considerable value in this work.
But are there aspects of our professional identity that have become too comfortable?
Have we become accustomed to describing systemic difficulties without expecting ourselves to contribute to changing them? Have we become more skilled at producing psychological advice than at evaluating whether that advice changes educational experiences? Have we accepted commissioning arrangements and professional boundaries that leave little opportunity for wider intervention? And have we sometimes used the language of neutrality or professional restraint to avoid examining the inequalities embedded within the systems in which we work?
These questions are not intended to diminish the substantial contributions of Educational Psychologists who have challenged injustice, developed innovative practice or supported children and families through difficult circumstances. Nor should we overlook the structural barriers that prevent many professionals from exercising the influence they would wish to have.
But I think we must become more willing to examine those barriers and consider how they might be changed.
An edpsy article published in November 2025, All Talk? A Critique of Consultation in EP Practice, raised a related challenge about the relationship between consultation, professional language, wider social conditions and meaningful change.
I think this is an important area for reflection.
We can leave a consultation feeling that we have listened well, developed a shared understanding and identified appropriate next steps. But if the child’s daily experiences remain unchanged, what has the consultation achieved?
Of course, developing understanding and strengthening relationships can be important outcomes in themselves. Yet they should not automatically be treated as evidence that the educational environment has improved.
Sometimes the most psychologically significant question is what happened after we left.
Did adults change their practice? Was provision implemented? Did the child experience greater participation, confidence or belonging? Was the intervention reviewed and adapted? Or did we simply produce another account of what needed to happen?
Perhaps we need to become more accountable for the relationship between psychological advice and meaningful educational change, while recognising that implementation frequently depends upon the responsibilities and resources of others.
History, Identity and Impact: Are We Challenging Our Own Assumptions?
The influence of our professional history is not confined to the theories we inherit. It also shapes the identities we develop as Educational Psychologists, the assumptions we may take for granted, the questions we feel comfortable asking and, sometimes, those we avoid.
We describe ourselves as reflective, evidence-based practitioners, but how frequently do we critically revisit the psychological theories underpinning our assessments and formulations? How are developments in our understanding of racial trauma, intersectionality, culturally responsive practice and systemic inequality changing what we actually do?
The HCPC Standards of Proficiency for Practitioner Psychologists explicitly require us to recognise the influence of our own biases, challenge barriers to inclusion, engage in critical reflection and evaluate our practice. Yet knowing what we are expected to do is not the same as demonstrating that we do it. How consistently are these responsibilities embedded within our initial training, supervision, appraisal, continuing professional development and service evaluation? And what evidence do we collect to establish whether our awareness has translated into changed professional behaviour?
Tools such as the Six Stages Framework Questioning Toolkit and Inclusion Profile could provide structured opportunities for Educational Psychologists to examine their assumptions, identify personal development goals, commit to specific changes in practice and review their progress.
At an organisational level, this could be complemented by examining patterns in referrals, assessments, recommendations, complaints and educational outcomes, alongside feedback from children and families. Importantly, the purpose would not simply be to demonstrate compliance or identify where we believe ourselves to be on a continuum. It would be to examine what we are doing differently, what impact that is having and where further change is required. Professional identity should not protect us from scrutiny; it should strengthen our commitment to it.
From Burt to Coard: what kind of profession do we want to become?
There is something striking about considering Cyril Burt and Bernard Coard alongside one another.
Both made important contributions to discussions about children, learning and the organisation of education, but they represent very different challenges to our profession.
Burt’s legacy invites us to examine how psychological knowledge became associated with classification, measurement and assumptions about inherited ability and social hierarchy. Coard challenges us to examine how educational systems reproduce inequality and how communities and professionals might organise to transform them.
It would be too simplistic to treat these two figures as representing everything that was wrong and everything that was right about Educational Psychology. Our professional history is more complex than that.
But placing their contributions alongside one another creates an important opportunity for reflection.
Do we want to be a profession primarily associated with assessing and explaining differences between children, or one that also uses psychological knowledge to transform the environments through which those differences become educational disadvantage?
I do not think we should abandon assessment, nor should Educational Psychologists relinquish the important expertise we bring to understanding individual needs. But I do believe we should become more ambitious about the contribution we can make.
We should be prepared to examine the assumptions embedded within our own professional practices, develop stronger ways of evaluating educational provision and intervention, and recognise the importance of children’s self-worth, identity, belonging and emotional wellbeing.
We should work more intentionally with families and communities, recognising the knowledge and resources they bring. And we should be prepared to contribute to systemic change when the evidence suggests that children’s difficulties are being created or intensified by their educational environments.
This is not a call for Educational Psychologists to become partisan political campaigners. It is a call to recognise that educational decisions involve questions of power, opportunity, identity, fairness and the distribution of resources, and that our professional expertise has an important role in understanding their consequences.
Perhaps our future relevance will depend less upon how successfully we defend our established roles and more upon how effectively we demonstrate the wider value of Educational Psychology.
What will the next generation inherit?
Towards the end of Coard’s conversation, the presenters returned to an observation from his earlier work: when a society fails one generation, it lays the foundations for similar failures in those that follow.
I found this particularly moving.
It reminds us that the consequences of educational inequality do not necessarily end when a child leaves school. Low expectations, restricted opportunities, damaged self-belief and experiences of exclusion can have effects that extend into adulthood and may influence subsequent generations.
But the reverse is also possible.
When children experience environments that recognise their potential, affirm their identities and support their development, we may create opportunities whose benefits extend far beyond the immediate educational setting.
That is why I think Bernard Coard’s challenge is so important, and why the historical foundations of Educational Psychology deserve our attention.
We cannot change our professional past, but we can examine how it has shaped us. We can question the assumptions we have inherited, reconsider the roles we have accepted and become more intentional about the future we are helping to create.
The Six Stages Framework offers one way of understanding the psychological processes involved in that movement, from awareness and discomfort towards reflection, responsibility, advocacy and transformational change.
But the framework itself must also remain open to evaluation, challenge and development. If we are asking our profession to move beyond expressions of inclusive values, we must be equally prepared to demonstrate the practical contribution of the approaches we develop.
I return to the question that began this reflection.
What is Educational Psychology for?
Is it simply to identify children’s difficulties, explain their needs and recommend appropriate provision? Or is it also to understand and change the environments that influence their experiences, development and opportunities?
Perhaps the answer is not one or the other.
Perhaps the distinctive contribution of Educational Psychology lies in our ability to connect the individual and the system, the child’s experiences and the adult’s expectations, the psychological formulation and the educational intervention.
And perhaps our greatest opportunity is to use that expertise more purposefully.
Cyril Burt reminds us why we must examine the assumptions that underpin our practice. Bernard Coard reminds us why we must be willing to challenge the systems through which those assumptions can produce harm. And the Six Stages Framework invites us to examine what enables us to move from recognising the need for change towards taking responsibility for creating it.
Perhaps the future of Educational Psychology will depend not simply upon what we know about children, but upon what we are prepared to do with that knowledge.
Through the SSF Lens: A Reflection for Educational Psychologists
I invite colleagues to consider how they would answer the following question.
If your professional contribution were evaluated not by the number of assessments completed, consultations undertaken or reports produced, but by the difference experienced by children, families and educational communities, what evidence would you offer?
Would you be able to demonstrate how your involvement changed adult expectations, improved educational provision, strengthened a child’s sense of belonging or helped an organisation recognise and address harmful practices?
And if the evidence were limited, what might that tell us about the environments in which we practise and the roles we have accepted?
Perhaps it is time for us to move beyond asking whether Educational Psychology has a future. Perhaps we should be asking what kind of future we are prepared to create.
Reflective Question
If Educational Psychologists are to become agents of educational transformation, what must we first be prepared to question, relinquish or change within our own profession?
And perhaps the more personal challenge:
Which vessel are you? Which vessel is your profession? And what would the children, families and communities you serve say about the difference you are making?
Continuing the Conversation
This article is Part Two of a reflection exploring the relationship between awareness, activism, professional responsibility and meaningful inclusion. Part One, WR019 | 400 Years Later: Why Are We Still Surprised by Voices of Bias and Exclusion?, examines the Cave of Perpetual Shock and the recurring patterns through which racism and exclusion are recognised without necessarily being challenged.
I also encourage colleagues to watch the full conversation with Bernard Coard, Dr Abi Miranda and Dr Sathya Gunetilleke and reflect on what it might mean to take Coard’s challenge seriously.
A more inclusive society begins with a deeper understanding of human behaviour.
Explore. Reflect. Question. Change.
© 2026 Dr Shungu Hilda M’gadzah | Six Stages Framework
The themes explored in this reflection — belonging, emotional awareness, psychological safety, human environments and our responses to difference — are also explored in my new book, Understanding Human Behaviour in a Complex World: Applying the Six Stages Framework to Navigate Difference, Challenge and Change.
Explore the book | Read a free sample
Paperback: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1068562064
Read a sample: https://read.amazon.co.uk/sample/1068562064?clientId=share
