I’ve Been Wrong About NAPLAN. Kind Of.

Every year, like clockwork, I write something about why NAPLAN is bad for kids. Teachers know it’s coming. My readers expect it. I’ve become predictable.

This year, I want to add some nuance. Because the data deserves it.

On mental health and stress — I overstated it.

I’ve said NAPLAN is damaging kids’ mental health and turning them off education. The research definitely shows that too many kids struggle with the stress of NAPLAN – but it’s not all kids, or even most kids. 

For example, a 2024 peer-reviewed study of over 1,000 primary students found that only about 22% of students responded negatively to the experience. That’s still nearly a quarter of students. Too high for too little benefit.

And a 2022 study found 48% of high school students worried about their performance — but worry isn’t damage. It’s half of those high schoolers. That’s a LOT. But… worried? We all worry. Heaps of stuff causes concern. And in school, it comes with the territory. I don’t want to be glib here. Again, in an upside vs downside comparison, I don’t see the value in NAPLAN if it’s leading to this level of concern and anxiety. But it’s not debilitating, and everyone gets over it once it’s done.

My greatest concern comes from a 2017 study which found up to 20% of primary kids experienced physical symptoms like headaches and disrupted sleep. That’s real, and it matters. 

But it also means most kids go through NAPLAN without lasting harm. I should have said that.

Most stress comes from parents’ expectations. Some schools still push the NAPLAN barrow pretty hard too. I consistently hear of kids being excluded because they’ll bring school scores down. 

On curriculum narrowing — I stand by this.

Schools are still sacrificing arts, creativity, and deep learning to drill literacy and numeracy. The Whitlam Institute research from a few years back documented this clearly. This part of my critique hasn’t moved.

On whether NAPLAN tells us anything — I was too dismissive.

It does predict things. Year 9 NAPLAN scores explain around 35–37% of variance in ATAR outcomes. That’s a big result. I’m not convinced that NAPLAN results are close to causal here. Any number of other variables are likely correlating with both Yr 9 scores and ATAR outcomes. Don’t read too much into it. It’s just an assocation… but it’s a substantial one.

Year 5 numeracy scores explain half the variance of later academic performance. That’s not nothing either. 

The problem is once again that NAPLAN largely confirms what socioeconomic data already tells us — over 70% of children who lived in social housing before age five performed at or below minimum standards a decade later. The test reflects disadvantage more than it reveals it. Tell me the postcode you live in and I can estimate your child’s NAPLAN scores and ATAR with pretty high accuracy. (So maybe I’m taking back my statement. I probably wasn’t too dismissive.)

On pulling my kids out — no regrets.

None of my kids have sat a NAPLAN exam. Ever. I’ve always excluded them as a statement of protest against an unhelpful, stressful, expensive test. I still think it was the right call for my family. 

So where do I land?

NAPLAN isn’t the catastrophe I’ve made it sound. For most kids, it comes and goes. No biggie.

But NAPLAN is still $100 million a year for information we could get more cheaply, more usefully, and without narrowing what happens in classrooms. The kids it does hurt — that anxious 20% — deserve better than being collateral damage in a system-level data exercise that has little predictive value and next to no genuine benefit.

I’m not making peace with NAPLAN. I still don’t think it’s worth it. At any level. I’m still waiting for a genuinely convincing article demonstrating clear upside to warrant the negative impacts it has on classrooms, teacher stress, student worries and society’s finances. It’s been almost two decades… and I’m yet to hear an argument that convinces me I was wrong.

At the start of this article I said I’ve been wrong about NAPLAN. Kind of. 

That’s only because I’ve made it out to be some kind of disaster for all students. It’s not.

But it is expensive. It gives us next to no understanding of what’s going on in schools in terms of culture (or other values beyond academics). And it’s essentially meaningless except at the aggregate level – and all it’s showing us is that educational outcomes aren’t changing that much.

I was wrong in degree… but not direction. And for the limited upside, the downside for those who struggle – and the cost to the taxpayer means… it’s still not worth it.