A new report from the Collaborative for Student Success aims to refocus attention on the “honesty gap” in the wake of the latest (and disastrous) NAEP results. This longstanding issue is no longer just a policy concern—it’s a glaring failure of accountability. As states continue lowering proficiency thresholds, the disconnect between what students are learning and how their progress is reported grows wider. This isn’t merely a technical flaw; it’s a breach of public trust. The challenge ahead is clear: How can we reconcile the need for transparency and rigor with the public’s skepticism toward the very systems meant to ensure both?
Consider the current magnitude of these disparities: In New York, over half of fourth graders were deemed proficient in math on the state test in 2024—compared to less than 40 percent on NAEP. In Michigan, the gap is even starker: 65 percent of eighth graders were proficient in reading according to the state exam, while just 24 percent cleared the same bar on the nation’s report card. And in Iowa, nearly three-fourths of eighth graders were considered proficient in math, while only a quarter met NAEP’s benchmark. The list goes on. Compounding the problem is rampant grade inflation, which only got worse during the pandemic and has since widened both performance and attendance gaps. Taken together, the inaccuracy in reporting grades and test scores is a devastating one-two punch.
These inconsistencies aren’t new. More than fifteen years ago, my colleagues Checker Finn and Mike Petrilli warned of these very dangers in their introduction to The Proficiency Illusion, which lamented even then the vast discrepancies in how states defined proficiency:
America is awash in achievement “data,” yet the truth about our educational performance is far from transparent and trustworthy. It may be smoke and mirrors. Gains (and slippages) may be illusory. Comparisons may be misleading. Apparent problems may be nonexistent or, at least, misstated. The testing infrastructure on which so many school reform efforts rest, and in which so much confidence has been vested, is unreliable—at best.
The Common Core and its associated exams significantly narrowed these differences, but now they’re opening up again. As these gaps widen, so too does the disconnect between perception and reality—stymieing progress and making it harder to ensure students are truly prepared.
Nowhere have the consequences of this misalignment been more pronounced than in the Old Dominion, which has seen some of the nation’s biggest drops in reading and math scores (see graphic). Across the four assessed areas of NAEP, Virginia’s honesty gap ranged from an alarming 31 to a stratospheric 43 percentage points!
Source: “Our Commitment to Virginia’s Children: 2022 National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) Virginia Results and Analysis,” Virginia Department of Education, accessed February 19, 2025.
Thankfully, no state in the union has taken bolder steps over the last three years to remedy these shortcomings. Under the determined leadership of Governor Glenn Youngkin and Secretary of Education Aimee Guidera, among many others, the commonwealth has been decisive in streamlining and reforming its accountability system while investing in tutoring, literacy, and student attendance as part of a comprehensive approach to beating back learning loss.
This week, I’ll be speaking with Guidera as part of a panel discussion I’m moderating on what it will take to get more states to reverse the trend of lowering proficiency standards. Halting this downward slide won’t be easy. At the federal level, Uncle Sam has erected a permission structure that defines deviancy down and incentivizes states and districts to meet students where they are, rather than pushing them to where they need to be. In states, a bipartisan backlash toward standardized testing has made matters worse, with many testing the limits of what’s required under ESSA.
The work being done in Virginia stands in sharp contrast to states that have opted to obscure their struggles rather than confront them. Hearing Guidera’s account of the state’s commitment to truth in reporting is a breath of fresh air. The next step is to raise the state’s cut scores, which will initiate a process that profoundly narrows the gap when the next round of NAEP scores is released. Yet, even with a concerted effort to restore transparency and rigor, the path forward remains uncertain. The clock is running out on Youngkin, who is constitutionally barred from serving consecutive terms in office. That term limit only increases the urgency of his efforts to raise expectations—and the question of whether his reforms will endure once he leaves office looms large.
Virginia’s experience also underscores a larger truth: State-level action alone often isn’t enough; durable change will require a coordinated national effort. Federal leadership, particularly from Secretary-designate Linda McMahon, could prove pivotal in ensuring this issue gets the attention it deserves. In fact, it might be the only way in the current environment. While it’s unclear whether she will prioritize it amid other pressing challenges, the need to increase transparency and rigor would seem to address President Trump’s vague assertion that America is “dead last” in education. And we already know that McMahon’s top lieutenants, Penny Schwinn and Kirsten Baesler, are smart and serious about ensuring assessments provide an accurate picture of student achievement.
To be sure, the honesty gap predates the current crisis of confidence in our institutions, but the erosion of trust has undeniably complicated efforts to close it. Beyond Virginia, few states have signaled a willingness to take on this fight. However, the reluctance to deliver bad news must end. If superintendents, school boards, and policymakers won’t tell the truth, who will? Parents, families, and advocates must demand better. Anything less risks undermining educational progress and will make solving the underlying problem of declining student achievement, particularly among marginalized students, far more difficult.
