When we talk about education in New Zealand, the conversation so often comes back to fairness.
Every parent wants their child to thrive, not because of where they live or what they can afford, but because they’ve been given the right tools and opportunities to succeed. Yet too often, inequitiesin the system widen rather than narrow.
The proposed reforms to NCEA have generated much debate. They are not perfect, nothing ever is, but they represent an important step forward.
They seek to strengthen the qualification so that it is consistent, credible, and able to give young people the foundations they need to thrive in further study, employment, and life.
More than that, the reforms are about lifting aspirations.
If NZ is to compete globally and give every child a fair chance, our qualification system must push students higher, not settle for minimums that leave them struggling later on.
The tutoring trap
One of the clearest signs that our current system isn’t working is the rise of private tutoring. In a recent poll I ran, with around 400 people, over 70% of parents said their children receive some form of tutoring.
That figure is staggering, and it tells us that families no longer see tutoring as optional.
It is worth acknowledging that this was not a scientific poll. The audience I reach is more likely to include families who are financially able to seek tutoring support.
That means the inequity is probably even more severe than my poll suggests. For every parent paying for a tutor, there are others quietly watching their children slip behind without access to the same help.
And this is exactly what our education system, funded by us as taxpayers, should provide: the support, time, and teaching needed to ensure every child can meet core standards without relying on private intervention.
A different story in Sweden
I was brought up in Sweden, where tutoring remains uncommon even today.
Why? Because parents rely on the public education system to do its job.
There is an expectation, backed by investment, that schools will provide every child, no matter where they are geographically located, with the same opportunities to succeed.
Equity is deliberately baked into the Swedish system. National curricula set out clear expectations that apply across the country, so whether you live in a city or a rural community, your child should have access to the same quality of education.
Teachers are trusted professionals, trained to high standards and supported to deliver consistently. Parents do not assume they need to “top up” learning at home with paid tutoring; instead, they expect schools to intervene quickly if a child is falling behind.
That trust is not accidental; it has been built over decades.
National tests have been part of Swedish schooling since the 1940s, originally to ensure fairness in Swedish and mathematics at the end of compulsory schooling.
Over time, the system expanded, adding tests in Year 6 in the 1990s and in Year 3 from 2009 to check early literacy and numeracy.
Today, children are assessed in Years 3, 6, and 9, creating clear benchmarks at regular intervals and giving schools the chance to intervene before gaps widen.
This tradition of early, nationwide assessment helps explain why tutoring has never become mainstream: families can trust that inequities will be identified and addressed within the public system itself.
Even now, none of my friends in Sweden tutors their children. It simply isn’t part of the culture, because the social contract is clear: taxpayers fund schools to deliver excellence and fairness for all, and families see education as a collective responsibility, not an individual burden.
That is not the reality in NZ, where tutoring has become normalised and where trust in the public system has been eroded over time.
NZ tutoring costs average $70–$80 an hour. Photo / 123RF
The inequity at home
On paper, NZ’s system looks equitable. Every child is entitled to a free education under a national curriculum, and no family is excluded from access.
Tutoring, from this perspective, should be a luxury for those who want to go further. Yet for many families, it has become the opposite: a weekly necessity, costing $70–$80 an hour, simply to ensure their children can keep up with the basics.
The fact that so many families feel they have no choice but to pay for tutoring shows that the system isn’t working equitably in practice and that the gaps between those who can afford it and those who can’t are widening.
Tutoring used to be reserved for children who were struggling or who were exceptionally gifted. Over the past decade, it has become routine. Parents describe tutoring not as an advantage but as survival.
One mother explained: “They can’t learn enough maths in the allocated time at school, and it needs to be reinforced. They move through topics at pace”.
Another said simply: “We’ve had a tutor since our child was 7. Even then, they were still a year or two behind by intermediate”.
These stories highlight a troubling reality.
For families who can afford tutoring, it plugs the gaps.
For those who cannot, children risk quietly slipping further and further behind. As one parent put it: “Education shouldn’t be dependent on whether you can pay”.
This is what inequity looks like.
What the NCEA changes are trying to do
The reforms aim to change this dynamic by strengthening the foundations of learning.
The introduction of compulsory literacy and numeracy requirements sets a clear baseline: no student should leave school without functional reading, writing, and maths.
These are the essential building blocks for all other learning, for employability and for productive citizenship.
As parents, we are already seeing the benefits of this sharper focus through our daughter in public primary school. Next year, her younger brother will join her, and we want him to inherit the same sense of confidence in the basics.
At the same time, our eldest son is in a private intermediate, and as a Year 8 student he will be the first cohort to come through under these changes.
For us as a family, it means watching how both the public and private systems respond and recognising that many years of slipping backwards mean there is still a great deal of catching-up to do.
These changes matter because they set the tone for all children, regardless of the school they attend.
Simplifying achievement standards is another important step. The current system is dense and overly complex, making it difficult for students, parents, and even teachers to navigate. By focusing on fewer, clearer standards, learning becomes more transparent and purposeful.
Consistency is also critical. At present, expectations vary too widely between schools. With stronger national consistency, a student in Invercargill will be held to the same standard as a student in Auckland.
Parents should not feel they must purchase tutoring simply because their school moved too quickly through key concepts or because expectations were unclear.
Finally, greater recognition of vocational pathways matters enormously. Too often, practical skills are undervalued compared with academic study.
By valuing both equally, we send a clear message that there are many valid routes to success and that NCEA is about equipping all young people to contribute meaningfully, not forcing them down a single academic track.
In the age of AI (artificial intelligence), this becomes even more important; skills such as problem-solving, creativity, hands-on expertise and adaptability will be just as valuable as academic knowledge. Preparing students for a future where human strengths complement technology is essential.
NCEA reforms will introduce compulsory literacy and numeracy standards. Photo / 123RF
Lifting aspiration, not just achievement
But this reform is not only about plugging gaps. It is about lifting aspiration.
For too long, NCEA has been treated as something to “get through”. The reforms challenge us to raise expectations, for schools, for students and for the system as a whole.
Every student should leave school with confidence in their ability to read, write, and solve problems.
They should feel capable of entering tertiary education, apprenticeships, or the workforce without the constant anxiety of being “behind”.
Stronger, clearer standards give students something to aim for, and crucially, a belief that their qualification genuinely prepares them for the next stage.
One parent captured this powerfully: “Knowledge and belief equals confidence, and that’s the key for success. Tutoring gave my children both. But it shouldn’t take thousands of dollars in extra lessons for kids to feel that belief in themselves.”
Aspiration matters. It is not enough for our young people to scrape by. We want them to leave school ambitious, motivated, and proud of what they have achieved.
A qualification that is rigorous, fair, and consistent can create that sense of pride and possibility.
The widespread reliance on tutoring shows that our system currently privileges those with means. We cannot allow education to be determined by family income. Strengthened standards, greater clarity, and consistent expectations across schools are what will level the playing field.
Of course, tutoring will never disappear completely; no system eliminates it. But tutoring should be optional, not compulsory.
Parents should not feel forced to purchase extra lessons just to ensure their child meets the basics. The reforms represent a chance to rebalance the system so that the classroom, not the chequebook, is where achievement is secured.
Why feedback matters
The Ministry of Education is seeking public feedback on these reforms. This is not a tick-box exercise. It is a rare chance to help shape the future of our education system.
Parents know the financial toll tutoring takes on families. Teachers know the challenge of meeting diverse needs with limited time and resources. Employers know the gaps they see in school leavers’ skills. All of these perspectives need to be heard if the reforms are to succeed.
Because behind the statistics are real children.
Children coming home in tears because they feel lost in maths.
Children assessed at school as “on track” only for their parents to discover, through outside testing, that they are a year behind.
Families grateful they can afford extra help and others quietly despairing because they cannot.
The NCEA reforms are not a cure-all.
But they are a step towards a system where achievement reflects learning, not income. Where literacy and numeracy are non-negotiable. Where aspiration, not anxiety, drives performance.
We owe it to the next generation to get this right. That’s why these changes matter.
And that’s why your feedback matters too, because countries like Sweden have been building trust in their system through national testing since the 1940s, and NZ should aspire to the same level of fairness and confidence in our public education.