Ofsted’s one-word grades were a ‘good’ way of explaining quality

I think I’m having an identity crisis. For years, whenever I’ve stood on stage at conferences and talked to staff at partner colleges, local authorities or training providers, one of the first questions I’ve been asked is simple: ‘What’s your Ofsted grade?’

It’s been the shorthand for quality, safety and credibility. At The Skills Network, we’ve prided ourselves on every partner achieving ‘good’ or better for their adult delivery.

Even in my personal life, Ofsted grades have guided decisions. Every time my family has moved house, the first thing I’ve checked is the local schools’ Ofsted ratings. Estate agents certainly know this – they splash “outstanding schools nearby” across property ads because parents, like me, look for a simple metric.

We all crave simplicity. I rarely watch a film with an IMDb rating under 6.5 and I hesitate to book a hotel scoring below 7 without digging into the comments. The rating comes first; the detail follows later.

End of the elevator pitch

So, what happens now that Ofsted grades are gone?

Until recently, our quality assurance could be summed up in a word – “good”. That was our elevator pitch. But now, the elevator has stopped. The new system feels more like climbing 10 flights of stairs just to explain where we stand.

We’re told that instead of a single grade, there’ll be report cards with coloured dots. Those of us steeped in the inspection framework may know what each colour signifies, but will the average parent, learner or employer? Without that simple label, communicating quality suddenly becomes a complicated conversation.

And then there’s the language. What does expected actually mean?

Having been at OCR when letters changed to numbers, we spent a lot of time with a little chart showing the mapping against the old grades; grade 4 a pass, grade 5 a good pass with a bit of a grade B etc.

Is ‘expected’ the new ‘satisfactory’ with a dash of ‘good’? Or do we now expect good, so ‘expected’ is simply average? Similarly, is ‘strong’ the top end of good with a sprinkling of ‘outstanding’?

To make matters worse, the new ‘secure fit’ approach means that if even one sub-judgement ‘needs attention’”, the overall outcome could be pulled down. In other words, you could be strong in everything but one area and still end up with a negative headline.

That doesn’t feel like “less pressure” to me – quite the opposite.

Promise of greater clarity

The justification for abolishing grades was noble enough. We were promised greater clarity, less pressure and a fairer reflection of institutions’ strengths and weaknesses. But I’m not convinced the reality matches the rhetoric.

Clarity? Not for parents, learners or employers who just want to know whether a place is good and safe. A better reflection? Perhaps, but only for those fluent in inspection-speak.
Less pressure? Tell that to a college leader watching one ‘needs attention’ comment undo years of hard work.

FE Week readers will understand the subtleties, but the public won’t. The risk is that the new framework makes quality less transparent to those outside our world.

Keep the playing field level

There is, however, one major positive. The renewed focus on inclusion and disadvantage is welcome and should play to FE’s strengths. FE is the most inclusive arm of the education system, offering life-changing opportunities for those who need them most. If inspection frameworks now highlight this contribution, that’s something to celebrate.

But this advantage only holds if definitions and expectations are consistent across all sectors and there is consistency in the inspection teams. If “inclusion” is judged differently for FE than for schools, we’ll have a problem. The playing field must remain level.

We’ll need to see whether the promised benefits – greater fairness, less stress, more nuance – materialise. Feedback from the first colleges and providers through the process will be crucial.

But the immediate issue is communication. How do we, as providers, describe ourselves now? How do we reassure stakeholders, parents, funders and partners about our quality without that simple, universally understood grade?

I’ll keep my metaphorical step-counter handy – because explaining quality in the post-grade world is going to be one serious workout.