Education Secretary Lucy Powell has signalled a bold shift toward embedding speaking skills — oracy — into the heart of England’s classrooms, but the promise arrives amid a stacking pile of delayed reforms, workforce strain, and warnings that schools are nearing breaking point.
In a speech last Thursday, Powell declared that oracy would be granted equal status to reading and writing within the English curriculum, a move long advocated by campaigners who argue that verbal fluency is the critical human edge in an economy increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence. The intervention comes as the UK’s stronger-than-expected economic performance is widely attributed to AI investment, heightening urgency around preparing pupils for roles that machines cannot easily replicate: in-person, public-facing, relational work.
Yet the announcement lands on a crowded desk. A major curriculum review completed last year was deliberately cautious, reflecting the Starmer administration’s broader incrementalism. Its promised revisions have been postponed. Simultaneously, reforms to the special educational needs and disabilities (SEND) system are generating deep anxiety among families, schools, and local authorities. And following pushback from headteachers, Powell has ordered Ofsted to re-examine its new inspection framework before it even beds in.
The case for oracy in an automated age
The argument for prioritising speaking skills rests on twin pillars: economic necessity and developmental crisis. Research increasingly links a decline in children’s language development — observed across the UK and internationally — to high screen use. The irony is stark: technology companies compete for contracts that displace human labour while their products erode the very communicative capacities that make humans indispensable.
Powell’s pledge to elevate oracy aligns with previous Guardian-backed campaigns and cross-party interest. But implementation is everything. The current English curriculum is widely criticised as overly prescriptive and grammar-obsessed, alienating pupils rather than empowering them. That is the obvious entry point. Integrating structured talk, debate, and presentation into English — rather than treating it as an add-on — could revitalise a subject that has become a compliance exercise for many teenagers.
International scores mask domestic fractures
England’s recent high scores in maths and science in international assessments — notably the Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMSS) and Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) — have been held up as evidence that standards in core STEM subjects have risen. The government points to these results as validation of reforms initiated under previous administrations.

But the headline figures obscure a more fragmented picture. While maths and science performance has held firm or improved, English literacy scores have stagnated. Teacher recruitment and retention in English remains precarious. And the curriculum’s narrow focus on grammatical terminology at the expense of creative expression and spoken communication has drawn sustained criticism from subject associations, exam boards, and the Confederation of British Industry.
SEND reforms and the inspection reset
The SEND system is arguably the most volatile item in Powell’s inbox. Families face lengthening waits for Education, Health and Care Plans (EHCPs). Councils warn of bankruptcy driven by high-needs deficits. Schools report exclusion rates climbing as they struggle to meet complex needs without adequate funding or specialist staff.
Powell has promised reform. But the details remain opaque, and the timeline is aggressive. Any misstep risks repeating the chaos of the 2014 reforms, which expanded eligibility without securing the funding or workforce to deliver.
Compounding the pressure, Ofsted’s new inspection framework — designed to shift focus from raw data to curriculum quality and inclusion — has been met with scepticism from school leaders who fear it introduces new inconsistencies. Powell’s decision to pause and review signals political awareness, but it also delays certainty for schools already navigating the current cycle.
Vocational pathways and the BTec question
Beyond the curriculum, the post-16 landscape is in flux. The phased withdrawal of BTec qualifications in favour of T-levels and the newly branded V-levels has divided the further education sector. Many college leaders argue the transition is too rapid, too rigid, and risks cutting off the very students — often from disadvantaged backgrounds — who benefit most from applied general qualifications.

The government is also committed to replacing GCSE resits in maths and English with new qualifications designed to reduce the demoralising cycle of repeated failure. That work is underway but unproven.
Meanwhile, higher education awaits a steer. Bridget Phillipson’s decision to unfreeze tuition fees after eight years has provided only marginal relief to universities facing real-terms funding cuts. Reform of student loan terms — widely regarded as regressive — has been kicked down the road.
A secretary of state at capacity
Powell is not alone in facing a daunting in-tray. Across Andy Burnham’s cabinet, new ministers are grappling with inherited backlogs and rising expectations. Her pledge to go “further and deeper on curriculum reform” is welcome; the world is changing fast and schools need help to keep up.
But capacity is finite. The teaching workforce is stretched. Leadership pipelines are thinning. And every new initiative — however well-evidenced — consumes bandwidth that might otherwise go to embedding what already exists.
The oracy commitment is sound. The SEND reform is overdue. The vocational overhaul is necessary. The inspection reset is prudent. But they cannot all land at once without fracturing the very system they aim to improve.
Why it Matters
The decisions Powell makes in the coming months will shape a generation’s ability to speak, think, and work in a world where human communication is the last competitive advantage. Prioritising oracy is not a soft skill — it is economic infrastructure. But if the drive for spoken fluency becomes another top-down mandate layered onto a creaking SEND system, a confused inspection regime, and a vocational transition that leaves learners behind, the policy will fail the pupils it promises to serve. The hardest question is not what to change, but what to change first — and what to leave alone long enough to let it work.
