During the past week I read a post by Daisy Christodoulou titled Why personalising education based on student interests doesn’t work, which got me thinking about the current state of our education system, where so much of what is being advocated leans into standardisation and structured approaches.
Daisy’s article argues against a particular version of personalisation – one where students choose what to learn, how, and when, often mediated by technology and with minimal guidance from a teacher. I have a broader view. I’m not disagreeing with much of what she says; many of her critiques are valid. Students don’t always know what they need to learn, and knowledge matters. So does expert teaching and structure. But I think the way she presents the debate is being framed too narrowly.
Increasingly, the discussion about personalised learning is framed as a choice between student-directed inquiry and explicit instruction – between learner agency and structured teaching, between engagement and achievement. Perhaps this framing misses the point.
The problem with the extremes
Extreme 1: Personalisation as unlimited choice
Many of the criticisms of personalised learning are actually criticisms of unconstrained autonomy – the assumption that learners should decide everything for themselves. Learner agency is something quite different. It is about learners understanding, influencing, and taking increasing responsibility for their learning within a purposeful and supportive environment, as discussed in my post titled Four questions that matter most in learning.
When students are left to choose what to learn and how to demonstrate it, things can become fragmented and inequitable. Fragmented because learners may miss important concepts and connections, resulting in a patchwork of experiences rather than coherent knowledge. Inequitable because not all learners come to school with the same confidence, prior knowledge, or awareness of opportunities. Those with greater social and cultural capital are better positioned to make effective choices, while others may inadvertently narrow their options.
Agency, therefore, should not be confused with autonomy. Agency is developed when learners are supported to understand the purpose of their learning, participate in meaningful decisions about it, and reflect on their progress – all within a framework of carefully designed experiences and shared expectations. Agency is not the absence of structure; it is what enables learners to make productive use of it. (For more on this read my book; Agency By Design: An Educator’s Playbook)
Extreme 2: Standardisation as uniformity
At the other extreme lies a view of education where every learner is expected to learn the same content, in the same sequence, in the same way. The appeal is understandable – it promises consistency and the assurance that all learners are exposed to important knowledge. It also has great appeal to some in the teaching profession who struggle with the challenge of responding to individual needs in their classroom. Yet there is a danger when standardisation becomes synonymous with uniformity.
Learners arrive at school with different experiences, identities, strengths, cultural backgrounds, and ways of making sense of the world. A system that assumes otherwise risks overlooking the very factors that determine whether learning is meaningful and successful. As I have written elsewhere, this tendency reflects a broader pedagogy of compliance – an approach that rewards obedience and task completion rather than curiosity, critical thinking, and self-direction. Learners may learn how to follow instructions, but not necessarily how to think for themselves.
This tendency reflects a broader shift I have described elsewhere as the corporatisation of education. In such a view, schools are expected to operate like efficient organisations, where consistency, predictability, measurement, and performance indicators become the primary markers of success.
The challenge, then, is not whether we should have standards. Standards matter. The challenge is ensuring that our commitment to standards does not come at the expense of engagement, identity, and human flourishing. Common goals need not require uniform experiences. Indeed, if our aim is deep and enduring learning, they almost certainly demand something more.
Learning requires engagement
Much of the current debate assumes that learning is something that can be delivered, provided we find the right curriculum, pedagogy, or technology. John Dewey challenged this idea more than a century ago. He argued that education is not the passive transmission of knowledge but an active process of meaning-making. Teachers can explain, demonstrate, scaffold, and provide feedback – but they cannot do the learning on behalf of the learner.
This is not a rejection of the science of learning. The research on how memory works, how knowledge is encoded and retrieved, and how novices learn differently from experts offers genuinely valuable insights for teachers. But the science of learning describes cognitive mechanisms – it does not prescribe a single mode of instruction. Dewey’s insight sits alongside this evidence, not against it: whatever approach a teacher uses – explicit instruction, guided inquiry, collaborative learning, or direct modelling – the learner must still do the cognitive work of making meaning. The risk is when the science of learning gets flattened into a single instructional method, applied uniformly, rather than drawn on as one part of a responsive and varied pedagogical repertoire.
This is where both extremes begin to unravel. Advocates of unrestricted choice often assume that engagement alone is sufficient for learning. Advocates of standardisation often assume that exposure to carefully sequenced content is sufficient. Neither is entirely correct. Engagement without intellectual challenge can result in activity without learning. Knowledge without engagement can result in compliance without understanding.
The more important question, therefore, is not whether learners should engage with important knowledge – of course they should. The question is: How do we ensure learners engage deeply with important knowledge? This shifts the conversation significantly. Instead of asking whether learners should have choice or whether learning should be standardised, we begin asking how learning can be made meaningful.
In their book The Disengaged Teen, Rebecca Winthrop and Jenny Anderson argue that engagement emerges when learners experience learning as relevant, authentic, and purposeful – when they can see why something matters, how it connects to their lives, and what it enables them to do. This is not the same as enjoyment or compliance. Genuine engagement involves curiosity, ownership, and a willingness to persevere through difficulty because the learning feels worth the effort.
This matters because engagement and agency are not separate goals – they are mutually reinforcing. Engagement provides the conditions in which agency can grow: when learners experience learning as meaningful and purposeful, they begin to develop a greater sense of ownership over it. And as that sense of agency deepens, it strengthens engagement further. Over time, this is how learners move from compliance to genuine investment – from doing what is required to understanding why it matters and choosing to persist.
Interest is not the destination – but it is often the doorway
I agree that not everything should be taught through football, Taylor Swift, or whatever happens to be capturing a learner’s attention at a given moment. Nor should learners be free to opt out of important learning simply because it doesn’t align with their interests. There is knowledge and capability that every young person deserves access to, regardless of whether they would choose it for themselves.
Yet there is a danger in dismissing the role of interests altogether. The issue is not whether student interests should determine the curriculum. The issue is whether learning can be connected to purposes and experiences that learners find meaningful.
A learner may have little intrinsic interest in decoding text, but may be highly motivated to follow instructions for building something, research a topic they care about, or engage with stories that capture their imagination. The literacy learning remains important and non-negotiable. What changes is the context and the purpose it serves. The same principle applies in mathematics – abstract procedures become compelling when they help learners solve problems, make sense of patterns, or investigate issues they care about. The rigour is unchanged; the difference is that the learner can see why it matters.
Dewey understood this well. He argued that education begins with the learner’s experience but does not end there. The role of education is to build bridges from current experience towards new knowledge, new perspectives, and new possibilities. Seen this way, personalisation is not about replacing important learning with student interests – it is about creating pathways into important learning through experiences that carry meaning for the learner.
The goal is not to ask, “What do students want to learn?”; The goal is to ask, “How can we help students understand why this learning matters?”; Interest is not the destination. It is often the doorway.
A better way to think about personalisation
Perhaps we need a broader and more nuanced understanding of what personalisation means. If we accept that learners are different, then some degree of responsiveness is not simply desirable – it is necessary. The question is not whether learning should be personalised, but what aspects should be responsive to the learner and what aspects should remain common for all.
From this perspective, personalisation is not primarily about choice of content. It is about recognising and responding to learner variability while maintaining high expectations and shared goals. It can occur in several dimensions:
Pace
Learners do not all learn at the same rate. Equity is not achieved by expecting everyone to progress at exactly the same pace. Sometimes learners need more support; sometimes more challenge. Personalisation of pace ensures that learners experience an appropriate level of stretch while remaining capable of success – without abandoning a common curriculum.
Context
The knowledge being learned may be common; the context through which learners encounter it may vary. A literacy programme may focus on the same foundational skills for all learners while drawing on texts, examples, and applications that reflect learners’ interests, cultures, and communities. A mathematics lesson may address the same concepts through contexts that make the learning more meaningful. This is not about changing the destination – it is about creating multiple points of entry.
Pathway
While common outcomes matter, there is often more than one route to achieving them. Some learners benefit from collaborative learning; others from independent inquiry. Some demonstrate understanding through writing; others through presentation, design, or practical application. Personalisation of pathway allows flexibility in how learning occurs while maintaining clarity about outcomes. The pathways are purposeful and aligned to agreed goals. What varies is the route, not the destination.
Relationships
Perhaps the most important form of personalisation is also the most human. It requires knowing learners well – their strengths, needs, interests, cultural identities, aspirations, and circumstances. It involves building relationships of trust that enable learners to feel seen, valued, and supported. The most effective teachers have always personalised in this sense. They know when to challenge, when to encourage, when to intervene, and when to step back. This form of personalisation cannot be automated or standardised. It emerges through relationships.
Concluding thought: Holding the tension
The question is not whether learning should be personalised or standardised. That framing leads too quickly into a false choice. The real challenge is how we create learning experiences that combine the best of both: clear expectations and meaningful engagement; essential knowledge and learner agency; structure and relevance.
Agency without structure can become aimless; structure without agency can become compliance. Deep learning occurs when learners encounter ideas worth knowing and have opportunities to connect those ideas to their own lives, experiences, and aspirations.
Seen this way, personalisation is not the opposite of standards. It is one of the means by which standards become meaningful, accessible, and achievable for diverse learners. The aim is not uniformity or fragmentation, but coherence with responsiveness – common purpose, experienced through diverse pathways, contexts, and relationships.
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2 replies on “Beyond the personalisation debate”
An interesting read, Derek.
I wonder how student data might be used to “standardise” diverse pathways?
In the private sector, we have recently achieved this, using a machine learning model to identify and monitor each individual’s progress goal using their data. It is based on an agreed human-centred design framework.
Conversation for another day, perhaps.
A concise reflection Derek on what is happening. Across education, and increasingly across our wider communities, discussion has drifted toward the extremes. There is so much that we all agree on but we spend our precious time on the extremes of our disagreements. The real work lies not in defending the edges of our disagreements, but in recognising the “and/and” nature of the challenges we face. Ultimately, it is kotahitanga — our shared commitment to unity, relationship, and collective purpose — that will enable us to move forward together with integrity and hope.