Systems Thinking?
Andy McHugh
One of the things I have noticed over the years is how often conversations about schools revolve around systems.
We talk about frameworks, policies, accountability structures and data. We debate curriculum models, assessment approaches and inspection criteria. Schools are expected to demonstrate that their processes are robust and that their structures are clear. Obviously, this is entirely reasonable. Schools are complex organisations responsible for educating and safeguarding. Clear systems enable colleagues to work together and create consistency across the school.
But when we focus so heavily on systems, it is too easy to overlook something fundamental about how schools actually function day-to-day. At their core, schools actually rely on the subjective, professional judgement of the people who work within them.
No system, however carefully designed, can replace the ability of a teacher or school leader to read a situation, interpret what is happening and decide what the most appropriate response might be.
Across the course of an ordinary school day, hundreds of such decisions are made.
A teacher notices that a pupil who is usually engaged has become quiet and withdrawn. A head of department decides that a class needs to revisit a concept rather than move on to the next topic in the scheme of work. A pastoral lead senses that a conversation with a parent requires patience and listening rather than immediate escalation.
None of these moments are dramatic. Nor do they typically appear in improvement plans or policy documents. However, they are essential to the way schools function.
Teaching has always been a profession built on this kind of judgement. Teachers are not simply delivering a script. Even the most carefully planned lesson requires dozens of decisions as it unfolds. When should a question be extended? When does an explanation need simplifying? When has a misconception emerged that needs to be addressed immediately?
The quality of teaching depends as much on those decisions as it does on the original plan.
The same is true beyond the classroom. Middle leaders and senior leaders spend much of their time balancing competing priorities. They are thinking about curriculum quality, staff workload, pupil wellbeing, parental expectations and accountability pressures, often at the same time.
Policies and frameworks provide guidance, but they cannot determine every response in advance. Professional judgement fills the space between the written procedure and the reality of daily school life.
This becomes particularly clear when we consider the aspects of schooling that cannot easily be measured.
These outcomes matter enormously, yet they do not sit comfortably in spreadsheets or dashboards. They depend on attentive professionals who notice what is happening around them and act thoughtfully.
None of this is an argument against systems. Schools need structure. Clear policies create consistency. Shared expectations make it easier for staff to work together. Data can reveal patterns that might otherwise remain invisible.
The question is, therefore, one of balance.
Systems should support professional judgement rather than replacing it. The most effective schools are those where policies provide clarity while still allowing staff the space to exercise their expertise.
In recent years, schools have also become more interested in systems thinking. This can be a very helpful way of approaching improvement. Thinking carefully about how processes connect, where pressures emerge and how decisions affect the wider organisation can lead to stronger and more coherent practice.
However, there is sometimes a tendency to focus heavily on implementing the system itself rather than on the thinking behind it. The process becomes the priority. The checklist becomes the destination.
When that happens, the system can become the goal rather than the tool.
Strong schools tend to approach this differently. They build systems, but they also talk about why those systems exist. Leaders and teachers consider what a process is trying to achieve and whether it is genuinely helping colleagues and pupils. The emphasis remains on thoughtful practice rather than simple compliance.
In my experience, the strongest professional cultures are those where colleagues feel able to discuss and reflect on their judgement. Teachers share ideas, debate approaches and learn from one another. Over time, this kind of professional conversation strengthens the quality of decision-making across the school.
Professional judgement does not develop in isolation. It grows through experience and reflection. It also, crucially, requires dialogue with others. Teaching is an intensely relational profession. Pupils arrive in our classrooms with different personalities, backgrounds and needs. No two classes are identical, and no two days in school are quite the same. When we talk to each other, whether to colleagues or to the students themselves (not to mention parents), our ability becomes greater than the sum of its parts.
Professional judgement also allows a teacher to recognise when a pupil needs challenge and when they need reassurance. It helps a pastoral leader look beyond behaviour and understand what might lie behind it. It enables a school leader to judge when a colleague requires support rather than scrutiny. In these moments, judgement is not simply technical. It is ethical.
Schools are communities as well as institutions, and the decisions made within them shape the experiences of the young people entrusted to our care.
The philosopher Michael Polanyi once wrote that “we can know more than we can tell.” His observation about tacit knowledge captures something important about teaching and leadership. Much of what experienced professionals know about their craft cannot be fully written down in a policy or captured in a framework. It is developed slowly through experience, reflection and thoughtful practice.
Ultimately, the strength of a school does not lie only in the policies it produces or the frameworks it adopts. It lies in the quality of the judgement exercised by the professionals within it.
It is tempting as school leaders to focus on improving systems. After all, systems enable progress to be measured and operations to be standardised. They can support colleagues’ judgement. But, they cannot replace it.
