Every few years, education policy throws up a moment that changes the tone of the whole conversation. The publication of the curriculum and assessment review — and the Department for Education’s swift response — doesn’t quite feel like one of those moments. However, it does show a surprisingly clear vision of where the system thinks it ought to be heading. And that vision includes the words “for all”.

The ambition is striking. A “world class curriculum”, fit for a fast-changing world, grounded in rich knowledge and the capacity to thrive. There is even a reference to encouraging a love of learning, which is not a phrase that often survives the policy drafting process. This sits in curious contrast to the current national curriculum’s grand aim of passing on “the best that has been thought and said”. Worthy, certainly, but not quite the same as equipping young people for a landscape that refuses to stay still.

The uncomfortable truth is that the present system works well for many children, but not for all. The data on disadvantage makes this plain. Year after year, pupils entitled to free school meals fall behind their more affluent peers, from reading at primary school through to Progress 8 at secondary. The attainment gap has got worse in the years since the pandemic. A curriculum that claims to be an entitlement must actually reach the pupils who most need that entitlement.

This is where the question of balance creeps in. How much choice should young people have in what they study? A curriculum that dictates everything risks stifling agency. A curriculum that leaves everything to preference risks incoherence. We teach poetry to all pupils not because we anticipate a thriving pipeline of professional poets, but because we believe it matters. So where do we draw that line between “everyone learns this” and “explore this if it excites you”?

One of the more reassuring threads is the emphasis on “curriculum for all”. A curriculum that reflects the diversity and reality of modern Britain, rather than one shaped by what a minister happened to enjoy at prep school. That means thinking carefully about whose knowledge counts, whose experience is represented, and what sort of world we are preparing pupils to enter. Teachers will be involved in the next stage of drafting. Pupils, apparently, will not — though one hopes teachers will be able to channel their perspectives.

Then there is the simple matter of pace. The last full curriculum review was in 2012. In computing, the world has changed beyond recognition since then. Expecting a subject like ours to remain untouched for over a decade is a recipe for irrelevance. The proposal for periodic refreshes seems sensible, though one hopes we avoid a scenario in which update patches are issued on the second Tuesday of the month.

Assessment, of course, remains the driver of much of what happens in schools. Exams are going nowhere. There is no move toward abandoning terminal, paper-based assessment. Nor is there much appetite for expanding coursework, largely because of legitimate concerns about what AI can do with a take-home task. But alongside that caution is an acknowledgement that assessment should reflect the authentic character of a subject. If a field relies on technology, perhaps the assessment should not pretend otherwise.

Significant developments, unsurprisingly, concern computing and technology more broadly. The review recognises that digital literacy — real digital literacy, not the watered-down version tucked away in three bullet points at Key Stage 4 — is an essential part of modern education. Word processing, spreadsheets, presentations, using tools like ChatGPT wisely and critically: these are not luxuries. They are baseline competencies in almost any field. Parents understand this. Pupils, interestingly, do not always share their enthusiasm. That is something we must address.

The shift is towards seeing digital literacy as belonging firmly within computing, not as a nebulous cross-curricular aspiration. That means clarity in the programmes of study, not vague gestures towards online identity and “new technologies”. And it means placing AI within the curriculum, not as a bolt-on but as part of what it now means to be digitally literate. Understanding how AI works, where its strengths and limits lie, and how to use it without becoming dependent — these are essential, not optional.

I am pleased with the decision to retire GCSE Computer Science in favour of a broader GCSE in Computing. We have insisted that everyone study computing, while only offering a GCSE in the computer-science slice of it. It is the equivalent of requiring all pupils to study science but only offering physics at GCSE. A broader qualification, grounded in core principles but extending into cybersecurity, data, ethics, digital rights, project work and media, feels far more in tune with the subject’s real scope. A practical exam, completed under controlled conditions, could make this rigorous without succumbing to the vulnerabilities of coursework.

The timeline is long. The new curriculum will appear around 2027, take effect in 2028, with the first cohort sitting the new GCSE around 2031. It feels a lifetime away, but curriculum change always does. In the meantime, there are hints of a new Level 3 qualification in data science and AI. Not necessarily an A level — perhaps something more flexible — but a sign that the conversation has finally caught up with the world young people are entering.

None of this is revolution. It is evolution, in the best sense. Keep what works, mend what doesn’t, and make the whole system fairer and more coherent. And if, along the way, we manage to craft a computing curriculum that is genuinely for all — not just those already enamoured with algorithms — then perhaps we can allow ourselves a quiet moment of optimism.

Based on my chair’s keynote at ICT for Education in Solihull, 7 November 2025