There’s an amusing observational sequence in Humanity, the most-recent stand-up special from Ricky Gervais, mocking social media for creating a “post-truth” world where opinions are used to refute facts. “You can have your own opinions,” says Gervais. “You can’t have your own facts.”

That certainly rings true in education commentary where the heady mix of almost-infinite variables and adversarial ideologies makes it so hard to identify reliable evidence that it can seem easier to rely on instinct. Unfortunately, the level of exaggeration in unsubstantiated opinions is becoming embarrassing.

This year it’s been claimed a number of times that resitting English GCSE damages students’ mental health. I haven’t seen any case studies, or research, but this opinion is based on the conceit that when Year 11 students receive their results next week there will be a sinister, shadowy figure whispering “failure” in the ears of those awarded grades 3-1, contrary to their exam transcripts. The fact they will then have to continue to attend lessons at sixth form or college where they will read and write stories will, it’s suggested, cause “anxiety and stress”.

Students aren't 'snowflakes'

I think this is playing upon the horrible term “snowflake”, cooked up as a straw-man argument for why we shouldn’t take any notice of our young people. It does them a great disservice. Anyone teaching post-16 will have seen the resilience and bravery of students dealing with the mental health impact of violent backgrounds, sexual abuse, bereavement, body image, and an endless array of other traumas. To suggest that a few hours of English a week could be damaging isn’t just laughable; it’s offensive.

It’s not just that these claims are made by influential professionals, or that they’re given column inches outside of the National Enquirer, but that they have even been given a public platform in front of the Commons Education Committee. It is confirmation bias at its worst. The policy is not popular, to say the least, so its opponents will amplify any claim against it, absurd or not.

'Cycle of failure'?

Similarly, much is made of the unfortunate fact that some resit students need more than one attempt before they catch up with their peers, despite the obvious inevitability of that when it is widely accepted that there is a 19-month disadvantage gap at the end of key stage 4.

Multiple attempts at resitting GCSEs are eagerly interpreted as another sign that the policy doesn’t work, rather than a sign of our society’s admirable commitment to fund as many chances as our most vulnerable learners need. It’s presented as a cycle of failure by those who simultaneously advocate alternative English qualifications precisely because they allow repeated exam sittings.

I am neither a researcher nor a psychiatrist, but unlike most resit commentators I am actually a teacher, with actual classes, and actual students. My opinion is that, if anything, GCSE English resits should play a part in supporting mental health in post-16 settings. Fiction provides a vicarious prism through which personal issues can be explored safely. Writing can and should be a cathartic and therapeutic release.

Constructive value

The variety and quality of young-adult fiction available in 2018, from 13 Reasons Why to Turtles All the Way Down, provides source material that can stimulate sophisticated engagement with the issues that affect our learners’ mental health. Encouraging life writing that prioritises self-expression over an assessment focus is a chance to equip students with a constructive release valve that their prior experiences of English might have otherwise shut off forever.

In addition to all of that, English resits are another opportunity for learners to hone their ability to distinguish between fact and opinion, which is desperately needed in this “post-truth” world.

Andrew Otty leads 16-19 English in an FE college. He is an ambassador for education charity SHINE