What if we stopped asking children to measure their learning against a checklist of success and instead encouraged them to recognise the value of every step towards understanding? Introducing my concept of 'Slow Climb', I explore why I believe the language of learning deserves reconsideration, and how a simple change in classroom practice could transform children's relationships with progress, achievement and themselves.
Why I want to move away from ‘success criteria’:
Throughout my career as a teacher, school leader and educational researcher, I have become increasingly interested in the language we use around learning. The words we choose in classrooms are rarely neutral. They communicate our expectations, shape children's perceptions of their abilities and influence how they understand their own achievements.
One phrase that I have begun to question is success criteria. For years, success criteria have been an established feature of classroom practice. They provide children with clear expectations, help teachers structure learning and offer a framework against which progress can be assessed. I understand their value, and I have used them extensively throughout my teaching career.
However, I have started to wonder whether the language itself deserves reconsideration. When we present children with success criteria, are we unintentionally suggesting that learning is defined by reaching a predetermined destination? Does success become something that can only be claimed once every box has been ticked? What happens to the child who has made extraordinary progress but has not yet fulfilled those expectations?
I believe we need an approach that recognises learning as a gradual, sometimes difficult and frequently unpredictable process. This thinking has led me to develop a concept I would like to establish as a distinctive feature of my educational philosophy: Slow Climb.
Introducing Slow Climb:
Slow Climb is a simple idea with potentially significant implications. Rather than presenting children with success criteria, I would introduce Slow Climb: a visual and reflective representation of the journey towards understanding.
The underlying principle is that learning is not a race towards success. It is a process of gradual progress, persistence, reflection and discovery. A climb involves effort, where sometimes the path is straightforward; and sometimes it becomes unexpectedly difficult. There are moments when we move confidently forwards and others when we need to stop, reconsider our direction or seek support. Importantly, the value of the climb is not determined exclusively by reaching the summit. It is found in everything we learn along the way.
In my classroom, Slow Climb would replace the conventional success criteria displayed beneath a learning objective. Instead of asking, 'What must I do to be successful?', I would encourage children to consider, 'What steps will help me develop my understanding?' This represents more than a change in terminology; it is a deliberate attempt to shift the emphasis from performance towards progression.
What would Slow Climb look like in practice?
I envisage Slow Climb becoming a familiar visual feature within lessons, represented by a mountain pathway containing several carefully sequenced learning stages.
Example: Year 5 English — Writing a persuasive argument
Explore the purpose of persuasion.
Identify language that influences a reader.
Develop convincing arguments with supporting evidence.
Organise ideas into a coherent piece of writing.
Reflect, refine and strengthen the writing.
Illustrative learning pathway: the stages offer direction, not a race to the summit. Children would understand that each stage represents an important part of their learning, rather than a box that must be completed to earn the label of success. Crucially, the pathway would not always be linear, as some children might revisit an earlier stage, others might spend longer developing one particular skill. A child might demonstrate sophisticated reasoning but require additional support organising their written response.
These differences would not represent failure. They would represent learning. I would also encourage children to reflect upon their position within the climb, asking what they have understood, where they have experienced difficulty and what their next step might involve. The emphasis would remain firmly upon meaningful progress rather than speed.
Challenging the culture of instant achievement:
One of my growing concerns about contemporary education is the expectation that children should demonstrate success within increasingly compressed periods of time. We establish learning objectives, introduce success criteria, deliver activities and assess outcomes, often within the boundaries of a single lesson. Yet meaningful learning does not always accommodate our timetables. Understanding can emerge slowly and confidence may develop through repetition. A concept that appears inaccessible one day can suddenly become understandable several lessons later.
As an educator, I have witnessed children who require considerable time to develop an idea but eventually demonstrate a depth of understanding that makes the process worthwhile. I worry that an excessive focus on immediate success can obscure the importance of perseverance and thoughtful struggle – the Slow Climb would make space for that struggle. It would communicate that encountering difficulty is not evidence of inadequacy, but an expected part of developing understanding. However, I would be careful not to romanticise struggle. Children should never be left confused or unsupported in the belief that difficulty alone produces learning. The teacher's responsibility remains to provide explicit instruction, appropriate scaffolding, effective feedback and timely intervention. The Slow Climb is not about making learning unnecessarily difficult, it is about recognising that worthwhile progress sometimes requires time.
Every child climbs differently:
Perhaps the most important aspect of Slow Climb is its potential contribution to inclusive classroom practice. Throughout my work across different schools, countries and educational contexts, I have taught children with remarkably varied experiences, abilities and levels of confidence. Some grasp new concepts quickly, while others require repeated explanations, practical experiences or alternative approaches before understanding develops.
Traditional success criteria can provide clarity for all these learners, but I believe Slow Climb could make the individual nature of progress more visible. Two children might be working towards the same ambitious learning outcome while requiring different levels of support and different amounts of time. Rather than comparing how quickly they reach the summit, I would encourage them to recognise the progress they have made from their own starting points. This does not mean lowering expectations, indeed, one of my strongest convictions is that every child deserves access to challenging, intellectually ambitious learning. Slow Climb would therefore preserve those expectations while acknowledging that the route towards them will not be identical for everyone. Equity in education does not necessarily mean expecting every child to climb at the same pace. It means ensuring that every child has the support, encouragement and opportunity to continue climbing.
Rethinking feedback and assessment:
If the Slow Climb were to become embedded within classroom practice, it would also influence how teachers communicate feedback. Instead of concentrating primarily on whether children have met success criteria, feedback would focus on the learning journey itself.
I would encourage teachers to consider three questions: What understanding has the child developed? What is preventing further progress? What would be the most useful next step? Children could also be taught to identify evidence of their own progress. Rather than saying, 'I have completed all five success criteria', a child might explain, 'I can now justify my ideas with evidence, but I need to work on making my argument more convincing.' This represents a more reflective relationship with learning.
Formal assessment would still be necessary. Teachers must understand whether children are meeting curriculum expectations, and leaders must be able to evaluate educational standards. The Slow Climb would therefore not replace these responsibilities. Instead, it would reshape the everyday language through which children experience assessment, encouraging them to see feedback as guidance rather than judgement.
Could the Slow Climb become a whole-school philosophy?
Although my initial intention would be to introduce the Slow Climb as an alternative to success criteria, I believe the concept has potential beyond individual lessons. It could become a shared language of learning across a primary school. Teachers might use the framework when planning carefully sequenced lessons. Children could refer to their climbs during reflection and self-assessment. Parents could encounter the concept through conversations about progress, effort and development. Professional development would be essential to ensure the approach remained pedagogically rigorous rather than becoming a decorative classroom display. I would begin by piloting the concept within a small number of classes, gathering feedback from teachers and pupils and examining whether it improved children's understanding of their learning and next steps. I would be particularly interested in whether children became more willing to attempt challenging tasks, respond constructively to feedback and articulate the progress they had made. Any wider implementation would need to be supported by evidence rather than enthusiasm alone.
The summit is not the whole story:
Ultimately, the Slow Climb reflects something I believe deeply about childhood and education. We live in a world that places enormous emphasis upon achievement, performance and measurable success. Children encounter these expectations increasingly early, often before they have developed the confidence to recognise the value of their own progress. I want to challenge the assumption that achievement must always be immediate, visible or comparable. I want children to understand that learning involves uncertainty, persistence and moments of discovery that cannot always be neatly recorded on a checklist, and I want teachers to have a language that celebrates progress without abandoning ambition. The Slow Climb is not an argument against success. It is an argument for understanding success differently. It acknowledges that reaching the summit matters, but so does everything encountered along the way. Because perhaps the most important lesson we can teach children is not simply how to reach the top, it is how to keep climbing, even when the summit still feels a long way away.
