“God…” my mum says, as confidently as if she were on first-name terms with the deity, “gives you what you ask for, not what you want.” 

As I write, again, rapidly typing to keep ahead of fast-paced events, God - or at least Ofqual - has given what all sides of the education world, from Dr Mary Bousted to Sir Michael Wilshaw, have asked for. A-level and GCSE students will receive their centre-assessed grade - or the moderated grade, if higher - rather than results calculated from a statistical model. 

Ofqual boss, Roger Taylor - yes, thank you at the back there: we’ve had immense fun pretending he’s the drummer from Queen, but he’s not and now we’re being serious - publicly apologised for the “stress and uncertainty” caused by the grading system that replaced exam results. His statement goes on to emphasise that the priority for schools is to be able to open safely and admit all students at the start of September.

I’ll be honest, I burst into tears when the announcement was made on Monday. After days of rising tension, a moment of humility from an organisation that appeared at one point to be robotically intransigent was overwhelming. 

Quick read: GCSE results day 2020: U-turn means record top grades

Analysis: ‘Many teachers feel bruised, deflated and frustrated’

Opinion: ‘Grade U to the government for a monumental cock-up’

GCSE results day: Blimey, it’s a mess

But, blimey, it’s a mess. The complicated story of university admissions is unravelling before us; it’s not yet clear whether previously downgraded students will be given places at the university of their choice this year. If so, admissions officers are going to need a bigger boat. 

And what if students or their parents - at GCSE or A level - aren’t happy with their CAGs? In the last couple of weeks, teachers have been basking in unaccustomed public approval. But now Ofqual has seen the light and is walking the path of the righteous, are we going to be the villains? It was most cheering to see small crowds waving banners with “Trust Teachers!” written on them. Unfortunately, we’re a strategically placed eyeroll emoji away from that positive message being completely reversed.

Is it what we want? The papers, the news and our old friend the internet are awash with opinions about how we got here, why we mustn’t go anywhere near here again and who ultimately is to blame. 

It’s tempting to suggest that for years now we’ve had an exams system based on mistrust - there’s a sense that some schools at some times may have systematically overestimated grades, and that teacher bias, however well-intentioned, warps fairness.

It’s also tempting to suggest that high-stakes performance tables put unreasonable pressure on schools to deliver the goods, no matter what. Of course, schools have to be accountable, but can there be accountability without public shame?

Data at odds with personal circumstances

The trouble is that there’s always been a collision between the rock of numbers and tender, fragile humans. How many times, as a head of year, have I been in meetings where the data’s at odds with personal circumstances? Where one of my on-paper surefire all-grade-7 students has got mixed up with the wrong crowd, fallen in love, lost a parent, had a cat die the morning of maths paper two, or has simply joined a band and is now convinced that practising the bass all hours of the day will lead to a more fulfilling future than revising geography?

It’s not always been like this. Back in 1981, my head of year read my O-level results to me over the phone as if he was announcing the winning lottery numbers - both of us equally surprised.

And most of you weren’t around - or may not even have been born - in the days before laptops and spreadsheets. The days when the loose-leaf file with columns for each student appeared in the staffroom, the latest whim of an up-and-coming deputy headteacher, who insisted we could make predictions about what each student could achieve by ticking the appropriate box. 

Turns out that deputy was on to something, and those tickboxes are now embedded in our daily practice.

Despite my world-weary tone (it’s been a long week), I get it. Outcomes for our students can’t be based on vague assumptions and stereotypes. But data - and I promise, I’m not going all Michael Rosen on you, bear with me - however gorgeously dressed up, is still only someone’s opinion: an opinion distilled into a number and typed into a cell on a spreadsheet. 

A lesser evil

The origins of a piece of data can be obscure; there’s no complete story about how each number is arrived at, and the certainty of an individual or a group hitting a particular target is affected by many external factors. Data looks like science, but sometimes it’s vague - based on a wobbly assessment or even a gut feeling, just as much as any assumption or stereotype.

I wasn’t happy with the blunt weapon of the statistical model, yet I have reservations about the CAGs. Grades that are unmoderated across schools are not ideal. A swathe of precautionary “What do I do if they blame me?” articles have sprung up ahead of GCSE results day, because - no matter how careful schools have been - some students may believe that they’ve missed out. 

However, on the basis that this year there’s no perfectly fair way of awarding grades, let’s run with it. It’s become obvious that temporary grade inflation is a lesser evil than individual injustice. 

And, despite concerns that some students may be dazzled into overconfidence and apply for courses that may be beyond them, how bad can it be? As always, there’s the first term to iron out anomalies. It’s not as if we’re going to have a generation of vets or doctors who, in a normal year, would barely scrape a 3 in English literature.

What this year’s Year 11 needs to know, is that, yes, it’s been grim, your marathon was cut off at the last mile, but you’ve been graded by the people who know you best. Take it. 

If you think a grade is too low - we can discuss that. If you have a sneaking suspicion you might have been graded too high, make the most of it - it may have opened the door a downgrade could have slammed in your face. You are our future - prove us right and live up to our expectations.

Sarah Ledger has been teaching English for 33 years