Skip to main content

Mobile Navigation

  • National
    • Policy
      • High Expectations
      • Quality Choices
      • Personalized Pathways
    • Research
    • Commentary
      • Gadfly Newsletter
      • Flypaper Blog
    • Events
    • Scholars Program
  • Ohio
    • Policy
      • Priorities
      • Media & Testimony
    • Research
    • Commentary
      • Ohio Education Gadfly Biweekly
      • Ohio Gadfly Daily
  • Charter Authorizing
    • Application
    • Sponsored Schools
    • Resources
  • About
    • Mission
    • Board
    • Staff
    • Career
Home
Home
Advancing Educational Excellence

Main Navigation

  • National
  • Ohio
  • Charter Authorizing
  • About

Daniel Buck
10.22.2026
Teacher, classroom, and students
Getty Images/Zoran Zeremski
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

I support school choice. I ended my career as a teacher and administrator working in private choice and charter schools. School choice will almost certainly yield net benefits to American education.

At the same time, I’ve always been skeptical of those school choice proponents who sell the policy as a wonder drug. Lagging academic scores? School choice. Crime, poverty, and teen pregnancy? School choice. Civic tolerance and racial comity? School choice. Paternity suits? Apparently school choice!

Despite my reservations about these sweeping claims, however, I’m starting to think that school choice can dramatically improve the sorry state of special education in America.

There’s no one answer about what exactly ails special education. Indeed, there seem to be two contrasting narratives. On one side, there’s the argument that ordinary district schools insufficiently provide required services, so aggrieved parents lawyer up to get their children the free and appropriate education to which they are entitled. On the other side, a competing narrative holds that ballooning special education rosters (caused by too many questionable diagnoses and upper-middle-class parents seeking advantage for their kids) garner even more ethically questionable accommodations.

Last spring, I made the case that special education as we know it in today’s America is becoming unworkable: “Liberalizing eligibility requirements have swelled enrollment, creating ever-expanding accommodations that are unfair to general education students—and, counterintuitively, harmful to special education students themselves.” At the time, I thought the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), the federal law governing the delivery of special ed, needed an overhaul with more stringent guardrails on who could receive an individualized education program (IEP) and what qualified as an accommodation.

Six months later, I think I might have been wrong. Not directionally so. In The Wall Street Journal, Emma Camp said it best: “When a third of a high school’s students count as ‘disabled,’ the definition of disability has grown so broad as to become nonsensical.” We still need to rethink special education, but regulation got us into this mess, and I don’t think Washington can regulate itself out.

Instead, let the sorting mechanism of school choice better allocate funds and services.

A new report at the American Enterprise Institute from the University of Arkansas’s Patrick Wolf and researchers from EdChoice makes the compelling case that families whose children have special needs are better served in a choice-based system. The current public infrastructure, they argue, is one where “proceduralism and compliance rule.” Committees convene to create a child’s IEP, and public schools are compelled to meet those obligations.

Conversely, in a choice-based system, parents can build a system that actually meets the unique needs of their child, securing a suite of individualized services and schooling options. In fact, according to the report, students with disabilities are overrepresented in school choice programs. In choice schools, they represent 17.2 percent of enrolled students but only 15 percent of students within traditional public schools. Not only do choice schools serve more students, but—importantly—surveys have found high parental satisfaction with the services received via those programs.

The choice programs in question include both those targeted at special needs students specifically and programs for all students. For the general programs, participation rates ranged from 7.4 percent in Indiana’s voucher program to 36 percent of students in Arkansas’s education savings account (ESA) program. An outstanding but important question is who precisely these students are: Do they have mild-to-moderate disabilities such as a speech delay, or are these programs also serving students with more labor-intensive disabilities, such as severe autism?

As it stands, this report undercuts one of the strongest arguments leveled against school choice programs: that they don’t serve all students. It’s long been asserted by critics that those with means will flock to private schools, while public schools will be left with the most challenged students. Yet the opposite seems to be the case. Families of students with special needs are drawn into the customizability of choice programs.

Importantly, choice as a potential solution also has far greater political viability than head-on reform. Amending IDEA to introduce real accountability into the sector is a political nonstarter. No elected official would ever be caught even suggesting such an act. As Dan Lips has argued, however, it’s quite possible to see how policymakers left and right could come together around a law that provides some additional funding in return for the expansion of choice programs directed at students with disabilities.

Of course, any policy comes with tradeoffs. I worry about the perverse incentives that a choice-based system would create, where students with special needs would receive larger vouchers or deposits in their ESA. As the old adage goes, you get more of what you subsidize.

But there’s evidence that affluent parents already pay psychologists to secure an IEP for their children, thus getting them extra time on high-stakes tests such as the SAT. Moreover, current programs (e.g., Florida’s Family Empowerment Scholarship for Students with Unique Abilities) already require that students have either a pre-existing IEP from a public school or a validated qualifying diagnosis from an eligible licensed medical professional. These guardrails won’t militate against all abuse but will prevent it from being any worse than public schools.

While it still leaves open questions about who exactly is served and how an ideal policy might function, Wolf’s report unearths important data that proportionally more students are being served in choice programs. This isn’t to say that we should throw out the legal entitlement tomorrow and enter a new era of unbridled choice-based utopia. We need more evidence and time to say conclusively that choice programs really do make a difference for students with disabilities, but if parental satisfaction and current enrollment trends forecast any answer, it’s an experiment worth pushing further.

Policy Priority:
Quality Choices
Topics:
Evidence-Based Learning
Charter Schools
Governance
Private School Choice
Jeff Murray
10.22.2026
Graduation cap
Getty Images/nirat
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

The Accelerated Study in Associate Programs (ASAP) at the City University of New York (CUNY) is a much-studied intervention designed to help low-income community college students overcome barriers to degree completion. Fordham has looked at several previous analyses, both in New York City and its Ohio counterpart. But the New York program is back under the microscope again. The latest study examines ASAP’s impact on participants’ education and labor market outcomes 14 years after they first enrolled.

ASAP was launched at City University of New York (CUNY) campuses in 2007, aiming to help new students persist to graduation with a full suite of supports, including intensive advising, tutoring, and career development services; tuition gap coverage; free textbooks; and transportation assistance in the form of gasoline gift cards. MDRC began its investigation of ASAP in 2009, with a group of 900 students randomized into and out of the program. And while the final cohort entered the trial back in 2012, researchers have continued to follow and evaluate their educational and career paths ever since.

Among the previous findings: After three years, 40 percent of the ASAP students had earned a degree, compared to 22 percent in the control group. Meanwhile, 18 percent of ASAP students had transferred to four-year institutions to continue with their education, compared to 12 percent of the control group. After six years, ASAP students had a 10 percentage point advantage over their non-ASAP peers in degree attainment, still statistically significant. And after ten years, researchers found that students earning a terminal associate degree at a CUNY campus earned approximately $2,400 more per quarter (roughly $9,700 annually) than non-completers.

The latest analysis looks at 14 years of data for each cohort—a total of 896 individuals. Just over 57 percent of those offered ASAP earned a degree in that time, compared with 50 percent of those who were not offered ASAP, a large and statistically significant impact, while obviously a smaller difference than ever. However, ASAP actually produced a small—though not statistically significant—negative impact on annual earnings. Those offered ASAP earned approximately $36,000 per year, compared with approximately $38,000 per year for their control group peers. These results differ from findings from the ASAP replication in Ohio, where strong positive effects on earnings were observed for many years after treatment.

As part of their explanation for these puzzling data, the researchers note that their findings are limited to New York State only. Any participant who worked in another state registered earnings of $0. In the report, they also discuss a previously unexplained quirk of the original analytic model. Students entering several traditionally high-earning CUNY majors (Allied Health Sciences, Pre-Clinical Nursing, Forensic Science, and Engineering Science) were ineligible for ASAP because course requirements made graduating within three years difficult—because “on time graduation” was a primary impetus of the program. And while neither treatment nor control group students could be enrolled in these majors at the start of the program/analysis, students were free to switch to them later. However, doing so would remove ASAP supports, a fact that likely encouraged treatment group students to stay in traditionally lower-earning majors so as to remain in the program. Fascinating. “Most of ASAP’s impact on degree completion,” the analysts write, “came from students completing degrees in fields where employed CUNY graduates historically tend to have relatively low earnings (for example, an associate’s degree in liberal arts) among CUNY graduates.”

Beyond these analytical concerns, the researchers also believe their findings reflect the fact that earning power in the Empire State depends strongly on education level attained. ASAP, they conclude, increased the likelihood that students completed a degree, but degrees that mostly had low earning potential and low likelihood of transferring to bachelor’s degree programs. “Much of this gain [in degree earning via ASAP] came from moving students from the ‘no degree completed’ category into completing degrees that typically yield relatively low earnings among CUNY graduates.” Degree-completing ASAP students at the lowest income level outearned their non-completing ASAP peers by about $9,000 per year.

In a Hechinger Report article accompanying the report’s release, it is clear that the ASAP support program will continue at CUNY and beyond, no matter what this or future research findings reveals. The program has exploded since its inception, now serving more than 22,000 students. New York City’s budget for it at CUNY campuses alone is more than $76 million a year. We also learn that it has become more efficient, with the cost per student now $3,400 per year, compared to $6,000 back in 2010. Let’s hope the schools have also learned a few things from these important analyses about how to improve student outcomes.

SOURCE: Michael J. Weiss et al., “The 14-Year Effects of CUNY ASAP on Educational and Labor Market Outcomes,” MDRC (August 2026).

Policy Priority:
High Expectations
Topics:
Evidence-Based Learning
Curriculum & Instruction
Teachers & School Leaders
Jeff Murray
10.21.2026
Gadfly Bites logo
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

News stories featured in Gadfly Bites may require a paid subscription to read in full. You have been warned.

  1. Some big EdChoice news from Cleveland.com today. And while it’s not particularly new news, it does actually read like news, rather than opinion, which is a nice change for this media outlet. The story covers a December 2025 report released by the Ohio Legislative Service Commission, providing data on recipients of the EdChoice Expansion Scholarship in FY 2025. The top-line finding is that nearly three-quarters of new voucher recipients that year were either incoming kindergartners or students leaving traditional district or charter schools to go to a private school. The remainder were students already attending a private school but using a voucher to help them pay tuition for the first time. As I know you know, my 10 persistent and patient subscribers, the grouchers have long said that most new vouchers are used by existing/current private school families, while voucher supporters have said that this is typical at the start of a program but bound to wane in a couple of years. I feel like this data shows we’re right, which does indeed feel like news—news that everyone can use and which may not always get reported. Kudos to Cleveland.com journalist Michael Johnson for the important coverage. (Cleveland.com, 10/19/26)

  2. Reading that last clip back again, I do wonder if the voucher grouchers realize that the early outcome they hate so much (more voucher funds going to existing private school families) is actually better for them than the alternative. Because once the existing private school families are set up in the program, all new enrollments are necessarily going to come from existing public schools—either school movers or new enrollees (like kindergartners or high schoolers). Feels like that’s worse situation for them, enrollment-wise, so perhaps they should keep quiet in the early stages and be happy they aren’t losing more students right out of the gate. But what do I know? For I am not of the voucher groucher persuasion and their thought processes are alien to me. Keep that dichotomy in mind, thought, when you read this piece: Columbus City Schools is looking for budget savings and has high school student transportation in its sights. Two of the three options include eliminating yellow buses and providing public transit passes to students—which would have to include charter/private/STEM school kids who rely on the district for busing. But I get the sense that the Dispatch doesn’t care for this idea, making sure to note our local public bus system’s dismal “missed-trips” data, which the paper has recently uncovered reported quite prominently. The implication is that district-attending high schoolers will get a bad deal if yellow buses are canceled for any of those alternatives, which cannot be allowed. But surely the fact that charter or private school kids will be similarly- or perhaps even-more-inconvenienced by the plans would have to figure in to the decision. Or am I missing something? (Columbus Dispatch, 10/21/26)

Did you know you can have every edition of Gadfly Bites sent directly to your Inbox? Subscribe by clicking here.

Policy Priority:
School Funding
Topics:
Governance
Jessica Poiner
10.19.2026
Revamped ed prep reports blog image
Getty Images/Pressmaster
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

Each year, the Ohio Department of Higher Education (ODHE) collects and publishes data from Ohio’s teacher preparation programs in accordance with state law. These Educator Performance Reports are available for the state and individual higher education institutions (both public and private). Current metrics include licensure test pass rates, value-added data, information on field and clinical experiences (like the number of weeks teacher candidates spend student teaching), and results from the Ohio Teacher Evaluation System (OTES).[1]

In Ohio, these reports are currently the only objective resource that annually measures the outcomes of teacher preparation programs.[2] They are not an accountability measure—there are no consequences or rewards directly tied to the results. But they are an important transparency feature, as they give policymakers, prospective teachers, district and school administrators, and the public a closer look at how well Ohio’s preparation programs are training future educators.

Given that teachers matter more to student achievement than any other schooling element, such transparency is crucial. But the usefulness of these reports has been blunted by their formatting, which isn’t very user-friendly. Consider the 2024 institution profile for The Ohio State University, Ohio’s largest higher education institution. The report contains plenty of important information. But if you’re a prospective teacher trying to decide between Ohio State and other schools, or a district administrator searching for where to find the best new teachers, rifling through dozens of pages of data and trying to identify comparison points is both difficult and time-consuming.

Fortunately, all that changed this year when ODHE revamped its reports. Now, all the primary metrics fit on a single page—a much more user-friendly format that will allow a broad range of stakeholders to easily access data and make simple, quick comparisons. Given Ohio’s statewide early literacy initiative, it’s especially noteworthy that the revamped reports clearly identify first-time pass rates and test takers’ highest score pass rates on the state’s Foundations of Reading exam. That’s useful information for district and school leaders who might be considering which preparation programs to collaborate with for teacher training opportunities, student teaching partnerships, and other initiatives.

If you’re someone who prefers in-depth analysis and charts over glossy one-pagers, never fear: ODHE offers links to both the brand-new resource and a historical version. It also provides detailed reports on the value-added progress dimension and OTES results. For most folks, though, the newly published one-pagers are a clear upgrade.

Prospective teachers, in particular, should benefit. Let’s say Jane is an aspiring teacher who believes in the value of hands-on learning and wants to get as much experience in the classroom as possible before she graduates. Jane lives in northeast Ohio and is deciding between Kent State University and the University of Akron. A quick glance at each institution’s most recent report tells her that at Kent State, teacher candidates clocked 620 field hours prior to student teaching and spent an average of 15 weeks in their student teaching placement. At Akron, meanwhile, students spent just 160 hours in the field prior to student teaching and just 12 weeks in their student teaching placement. For Jane, the choice is clear: If she wants lots of clinical hours, Kent State is the best fit.

Meanwhile, in southwest Ohio, James and his parents are trying to decide between three institutions: Miami University, the University of Cincinnati, and Wilmington College. James prefers smaller class sizes, while his parents prefer minimal student loan debt. ODHE’s reports offer data on both in the form of annual enrollment numbers for preparation programs and in-state tuition rates. Although Wilmington College will likely have the smallest class sizes (its teacher preparation programs have an annual enrollment of just 73), it also has the highest in-state tuition (more than $32,000)[3]. For James and his parents, the University of Cincinnati is a solid compromise—its annual enrollment is much smaller than that of Miami University, and Cincinnati boasts the lowest in-state tuition of all three options.

State officials deserve credit for taking the initiative to update these resources. Now that the hard part is done, there’s some room to tweak the reports and make them even more useful. In the spirit of continuous improvement, here are three additional data points ODHE should consider adding:

  • Job placement rates. Identifying the percentage of graduates from each institution who find a teaching job within one year could signal whether a program produces teacher candidates whom schools are eager to hire and could help aspiring teachers decide where to enroll based on job prospects.

  • First-time pass rates for licensure exams. ODHE’s reports identify overall pass rates on licensure exams. But there’s a difference between overall and first-time pass rates. Overall pass rates include candidates who pass the exam, regardless of how many attempts it takes them to do so. First-time pass rates, on the other hand, show the percentage who pass the test on their first try. Teacher candidates who need more than one attempt to pass state licensure tests can still go on to be excellent teachers. But first-time pass rates are an important marker of how rigorously preparation programs are training aspiring educators. They should be included on the state’s performance reports.

  • Retention numbers. Identifying the percentage of graduates from each institution who are still working in Ohio schools within five, ten, and 20 years could help pinpoint programs that do a particularly good job of preparing their students for the demands of teaching, as their graduates are more likely to remain in the classroom long term.

ODHE’s revamped reports are a big win for aspiring teachers, school leaders, and state policymakers. They are also an important complement to a forthcoming (fall 2027) report from the Department of Education and Workforce that will analyze statewide teacher supply and demand. Collectively, these resources should give policymakers a much clearer view of Ohio’s teacher pipeline—and how best to strengthen and expand it.


[1] The reports also include data for principals.

[2] Teacher preparation programs are audited for their alignment to the science of reading, but those audits are limited in scope.

[3] While in-state tuition rates provide a ballpark cost comparison, a fuller analysis would require considering the financial aid offers from each institution.

Policy Priority:
Standards & Accountability
Topics:
Teachers & School Leaders
Jeff Murray
10.19.2026
Gadfly Bites logo
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

News stories featured in Gadfly Bites may require a paid subscription to read in full. You have been warned.

  1. Nothin’ but voucher stories in the news this weekend—quelle surprise—giving us the state of play pretty clearly without need of much comment from your humble clips compiler. State spending on Ohio’s five private school voucher programs amounted to $1.17 billion in the 2026 fiscal year, up from $1.09 billion the year before. This is because 4,300 more students were using them in 2026 than in 2025—for a total of 185,584 kids. Simple, right? (Ohio Capital Journal, 10/19/26)

  2. National eyes were on Ohio following last week’s appeals court ruling upholding a lower court’s determination that the EdChoice Scholarship is unconstitutional. Reason was already looking ahead to case’s likely next stop—the Ohio Supreme Court—by looking back at a previous Ohio voucher case, Zelman v. Simmons-Harris. (That’s the one where our OG vouchers, the Cleveland Scholarship Program, was ruled constitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court.) A lawyer defending our voucher programs this around says, “When you look at what the Constitution says, and you look at what the court said in Simmons-Harris, I think the only conclusion that the Ohio Supreme Court can walk away with is that programs like [EdChoice] are constitutional.” (Reason, 10/16/26)

  3. All 185,584 students using vouchers in Ohio this year are currently at risk of losing those vouchers following last week’s ruling. Lawyers for the coalition suing the state over vouchers are confident in their chances at the next stop, despite what opposing lawyers say. But, JIC, they all say in this piece that they would be happy to spend more of school districts’ state money pursuing a statewide referendum if they turn out to be mistaken. No surprise there either then. (Cleveland.com, 10/16/26)

Did you know you can have every edition of Gadfly Bites sent directly to your Inbox? Subscribe by clicking here.

Policy Priority:
School Funding
Topics:
Governance
Jeff Murray
10.16.2026
Ohio charter news logo
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

Stories featured in Ohio Charter News Weekly may require a paid subscription to read in full.

Important new research on Ohio charters

The Thomas B. Fordham Institute’s latest report shows that Ohio charter schools are delivering a quality education for their students. Conducted by Ohio State University professor Dr. Stéphane Lavertu, the analysis indicates that the average student attending a brick-and-mortar charter school outperforms her district peer on state math and reading exams. The educational advantage is equivalent to an additional 25 to 35 days of learning for a typical charter student. The report also documents how landmark charter school reforms such as House Bill 2 (2015) have helped drive improvements. You can check out the full report here.

Charter flexibility in action

Shawn Phillip Cooper, director of education policy at Michigan’s Mackinac Center, published a blog post this week that demonstrates the pluses of charter school flexibility for the benefit of students. He notes that University Prep Schools in Detroit are advertising a base salary of $100,000 for rock star math teachers, along with a signing bonus for individuals willing to move to the state to take to the job. He then compares this to the Detroit school district, which “cannot make a similar offer to attract excellent teachers. Its collective bargaining agreement with the Detroit Federation of Teachers…forbids it.” That agreement tops out at $94,000, and one must have a doctoral degree and years of experience to ever reach it. Signing bonuses, also, are not allowed in the district.

Non-charter news to keep an eye on

The 10th District Court of Appeals in Franklin County this week upheld a lower court ruling that Ohio’s private school vouchers are unconstitutional, citing their funding process as a primary concern. An appeal of the decision to the Ohio Supreme Court is likely to follow. It’s an important case for all education stakeholders in Ohio to pay attention to—especially charter school leaders—as charters and vouchers are funded in a similar manner here.

Oklahoma update

As we noted last week, the proposed Ben Gamla Jewish Charter School Foundation’s application to start a virtual school was heard by the Oklahoma Statewide Charter School Board this past Monday. While the board members present voted in favor of the application on this second go-round by a vote of 4 to 3, bylaws say the board needs 5 votes to actually approve it. The absence of one member from the hearing and an ongoing vacancy in another seat narrowed the window for success and so the application is denied once again. Leaders of the proposed school called the result “shocking”, and said they are assessing their next move.

Editorializing in Akron

An op-ed from the Akron Beacon Journal last week attempts to lambaste Ohio’s ESSA amendment proposal—currently under review at the federal level—that would increase the options for state intervention in chronically-underperforming schools. Specifically, it is the option to close a district building and reopen it as a charter school which draws the editorial board’s particular ire. “If the state’s goal is school improvement, it’s questionable why a charter conversion is being considered in the first place,” they write, with no explanation as to what “questions” they may have about the efficacy of that option. Unsurprisingly, the editors echo Akron City Schools’ preferred option: “Send more money with no strings attached”.

Journalism that reads like editorial in Cleveland

In this coverage of Cleveland Metropolitan School District’s ongoing effort to repurpose recently-closed school buildings without allowing charter school operators to buy in, Signal Cleveland characterizes the state law which aims to give charter school operators right of first refusal on them “tricky” for districts to get around. Despicable rhetoric. While it is not illegal for them to purposefully and publicly flout Ohio law in this case, it seems, as long as the backroom agreements and sweetheart deals disadvantage charter schools, even Signal must admit that the so-far-successful charter lockout “could change”. Thank heavens some journalistic integrity got edited in there at the last second.

*****

Did you know you can have every edition of the Ohio Charter News Weekly sent directly to your Inbox? Subscribe by clicking here.

Policy Priority:
School Choice
Topics:
Charter Schools
Clifford Jones Lee James
10.16.2026
Wonkathon
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

Editor’s note: This essay is an entry in Fordham’s 2026 Wonkathon, which asked contributors to answer this question: “What rules should govern the uses of digital technology in schools—and who should set them?” Learn more.

When South Carolina's restrictions on student cell phone use took effect in January 2025, educators across Horry County Schools noticed something unexpected. Students started talking to one another again.

At lunch, conversations replaced scrolling. Some schools introduced board games and activities to encourage social interaction. Teachers reported fewer distractions and greater engagement. Most surprisingly, many students supported the change.

For a district serving nearly 47,000 students, these observations raised a larger question: If limiting one source of digital distraction could positively influence student engagement, what should we be asking about the technology students use throughout the instructional day? More importantly, who should decide when, how, and why that technology is used?

For nearly two decades, Horry County Schools—like other districts—worked to close the digital divide. We invested in devices, expanded connectivity, adopted digital platforms, and worked to ensure every student had access to technology. Those investments were important. Access expanded educational opportunities and helped address inequities. But somewhere along the way, we failed to ask an equally important question: When is enough, enough?

HCS became proficient at providing technology but less deliberate about establishing boundaries around its use. We measured progress through devices distributed, platforms adopted, and connectivity expanded, without consistently asking whether more screen time produced more learning. We solved for access without defining the boundaries.

This past year, we recognized that answering this question required more than a superintendent's directive. Decisions about technology affect instruction, student development, family expectations, and community values. Consequently, the people affected by those decisions must help shape them.

Our work began with a deliberate effort to engage district leaders, Board of Education members, principals, and parent leaders in discussions centered on Jonathan Haidt's The Anxious Generation (2024). The book challenged us to consider how technology influences childhood, attention, and social interaction. More importantly, it prompted us to examine our own instructional practices.

Had technology become the default rather than a deliberate instructional choice? Were students using devices because they improved learning or simply because they were available? Were we giving students enough opportunities to read, write, discuss, and think without screens? These conversations reinforced an important principle: Rules governing educational technology are necessary, but they should emerge from informed community engagement rather than isolated administrative decisions.

School boards provide governance and represent community expectations. Educational leaders translate those expectations into coherent instructional priorities. Teachers contribute professional expertise about what works in classrooms. Parents offer perspectives on child development and family experiences. Students provide firsthand insight into how technology affects their learning. Each perspective matters. None should be excluded.

Those discussions led us to establish a task force of teachers, instructional coaches, administrators, and district leaders to develop practical recommendations. Their charge was not to eliminate technology but to establish a framework that balanced its instructional benefits with students' developmental needs.

The result was Focused Learning, our districtwide instructional approach organized around three considerations: Time, Tools, and Tasks (MyHorryNews, 2026). Rather than treating technology restrictions as the objective, we made stronger instruction the objective. The framework establishes common expectations while preserving professional judgment. It also recognizes that technology decisions should be evaluated through student outcomes, not simply device usage.

“Time” establishes developmentally appropriate boundaries. Young children and adolescents have different instructional needs. At HCS, prekindergarten and kindergarten students do not routinely use individual devices. Grades one and two share classroom devices, while grades three through five use classroom sets. One-to-one access remains available in grades six through twelve, with instructional screen-time limits and appropriate exceptions. These boundaries are ceilings, not targets. Access to a device does not create an obligation to use it.

“Tools” requires educators to consider which resources best support the learning objective. Sometimes, technology enables experiences that would otherwise be difficult, such as digital simulations, adaptive interventions, or collaborative projects. Other times, a printed book, classroom discussion, or hands-on investigation is more effective.

“Tasks” focuses on what students actually do. Creating, researching, analyzing, and collaborating can justify digital learning. Passive consumption and repetitive digital activities deserve greater scrutiny. Our framework also supports our district's #RiseWithReading initiative by emphasizing extended reading, handwriting, knowledge development, and meaningful discussion. In middle school, we are piloting a weekly technology-free instructional day to encourage greater balance and intentional lesson design.

One of the most important elements of informed governance is listening to students. Through my Superintendent's Student Cabinets, we have established opportunities to hear directly from middle and high school students about their experiences with technology and instruction. Their perspectives help us examine whether devices support learning, create distractions, or displace more meaningful instructional experiences.

Student voice should not be ceremonial. It should inform implementation, help identify unintended consequences, and shape future refinements. Students can recognize the value of technology while also appreciating opportunities for face-to-face interaction, sustained reading, and learning without devices. Listening to them strengthens both the legitimacy and effectiveness of our decisions.

Initial feedback from teachers, parents, and students has been encouraging. Anecdotal responses have been largely positive, with relatively little resistance to the framework. But community support is only the beginning.

We must examine whether students are reading more, writing more, engaging in meaningful discussions, and demonstrating stronger academic outcomes. We must also evaluate technology investments more rigorously. Platform usage and student logins do not establish instructional value.

Before purchasing or renewing digital tools, districts should consider evidence of effectiveness, instructional opportunity costs, teacher feedback, and financial sustainability. Educational technology should have to earn its place in the classroom.

Our experience suggests that effective technology governance requires shared responsibility and clear authority. States should establish broad requirements for safety, privacy, accessibility, and responsible technology use. But instructional boundaries should primarily be shaped by local decisions.

School boards, informed by their communities, should establish expectations and provide oversight. District leaders should develop coherent frameworks, ensure consistency, and evaluate results. Educators should retain professional discretion within those expectations. Parents and students must have meaningful opportunities to contribute to decisions and provide feedback.

Appropriate exceptions must remain available for students with disabilities, English learners, specialized coursework, and other circumstances where technology is necessary for access or learning. This approach is neither unrestricted classroom autonomy nor rigid centralized control. It is informed local governance supported by professional expertise and community participation.

For years, we asked how to ensure every student had access to technology. That was the right question for its time, and access remains important. But access alone is not an instructional strategy, and boundaries cannot be established without understanding the communities and classrooms they affect.

At Horry County Schools, Focused Learning represents our effort to move from access to intentionality through collaborative leadership, professional judgment, and community engagement. We know that the future of education is not simply more technology. It is not simply less technology. It is intentional technology. For us, it is using technology for the right amount of time, with the right tools, for the right tasks, guided by the people responsible for educating and supporting our children.

________________

Haidt, J. (2024). The anxious generation: How the great rewiring of childhood is causing an epidemic of mental illness. Penguin Press.

MyHorryNews. (2026). Protected learning: Horry County Schools to take further steps to reduce screen time. https://www.myhorrynews.com/news/protected-learning-horry-county-schools-to-take-further-steps-to-reduce-screen-time/article_57ef8d1b-305e-4456-80d6-a891c21eb5b8.html

Policy Priority:
High Expectations
Selim Tlili
10.16.2026
Wonkathon
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

Editor’s note: This essay is an entry in Fordham’s 2026 Wonkathon, which asked contributors to answer this question: “What rules should govern the uses of digital technology in schools—and who should set them?” Learn more.

Before I outline rules for the use of digital technology in schools, I want to make a distinction between the ideas of “digital instruction” and “digital delivery.” I think that these two things are a bit different and merit explicit definitions in order to come up with coherent rules for the use of digital technology.

“Digital Instruction” refers to using digital technology to teach a lesson that requires the use of digital technology. Looking up digital images in order to study them is a form of digital instruction.

“Digital Delivery” refers to how information is presented and how students engage with the learning. Reading a passage on a screen that might have been a worksheet a few years ago is an example of Digital Delivery.

Take any task being done in a classroom; can it be done with pencil and paper or other analog technology without significantly changing the lesson? If so, then we are discussing the digital delivery of content. If the task cannot be reasonably done by most teachers without the technology then it is a matter of digital instruction.

Instead of trying to say “no kid under a certain age should be allowed to use tech,” we should consider adopting some heuristics that I am borrowing from other industries and applying to education. I also don’t like the idea that we should use a heavy-handed rule like “No more than two hours of tech use a day” because that potentially hampers teacher creativity. More importantly, it then creates a rule that someone has to potentially document or verify.

I would like to see schools and districts impose these heuristics:

1. Default to analog delivery: Education instruction should default to analog delivery as much as possible. Digital technology should have to affirmatively make its case for being the mode of instruction.

2. Minimum tech dosage: If technology is going to be used, a teacher should do their best to decide what is the minimum amount of tech that can be used to get the specific job done.

The easiest way to evaluate this, in my opinion, is the “1990 teacher litmus test,” to help people determine whether these rules apply in a given situation: Could a teacher in 1990 teach the same content without a digital component? If they could teach it effectively, then the present-day teacher should work to teach just as a teacher would have taught then.

I chose 1990 as the cutoff because at that point in time few classes would have computers in the classroom. Computers would likely have been in a separate “computer room” at that point and would have been a class on its own where skills like typing were explicitly taught. Technology would have to be deliberately introduced by the teacher in a 1990 classroom; whether it was wheeling in the giant TV and VCR to show a movie or taking students to the computer room to write an essay, all the tech use would have to have been a deliberate choice for the class. Ideally we should get back to a similar level of deliberate use of technology.

What might a class that passes the 1990 litmus test look like? It would look like a teacher that writes on the whiteboard and expects students to copy information in a notebook. The student with dysgraphia types their notes on a laptop, ideally one that isn’t connected to Wi-Fi automatically so that there are few digital distractions.

The teacher assigns students to research a topic for a presentation that will happen next week. The students open up their laptops for 20 minutes to research their topic. They need to have written a paragraph and gotten two sources. Headphones aren’t permitted for students to listen to music while they work nor can work be done on any other device. The teacher checks to make sure students aren’t on other websites. AI is not the first place students go to find information as they need to find a direct source for their presentation that they can personally verify.

When the students do their presentation based on their research they aren’t reading PowerPoint slides off a board they are talking in front of the class and sharing what they learned. Maybe they made a poster that they put up on the board to help with the presentation but there is no digital interface to the distribution of the information.

The students take a paper-based test which gets graded. The feedback is manually delivered but also recorded on the LMS for parents to see.

The total time students are in front of a digital device would be a fraction of what it is today. Far more importantly, the number of distractions eliminated would be significant.

Why should students have to do work that is likely more difficult and contains significantly more friction in order to accomplish? Because the goal isn’t the completion of a perfect “work product” so much as the goal is for students to refine their thinking through the process of creating work. If a student asks an LLM to generate eight PowerPoint slides about a topic and then reads it out loud to a class has the student learned anything? If that same topic were done by hand on a poster the student will likely have thought more and learned more in the process of completing the task.

Conversely, it is unlikely that a statistics class in 1990 would be able to analyze passenger data from the Titanic. If I wanted my statistics class to download passenger data from the Titanic and teach them how to make Pivot Tables I should do so without concern since I am engaged in digital instruction. A teacher in 1990 could theoretically assign this work by giving students a paper copy of the dataset but the manipulation of that data necessitates a digital interface. It would be unreasonable to assume that this lesson could be done by most teachers back in 1990.

I am not demonizing the use of technology. The example I gave of analyzing Titanic data to teach statistics is a valuable tool for teaching students. It is wonderful that a teacher can do something this creative. I do not want to discourage innovative teaching but I also do not want to re-dress old ways of teaching with digital skins and call it “progress.”

We didn’t decide that the teaching default should be digital. It just kind of…happened. Did we decide to do that because it offers superior instruction or because it feels easier to deliver? The greater difficulty of analog work and the difficulty of switching attention easily leads to the thinking outcomes we want to encourage in students. But if the expectation is that all work that can be done digitally should be done digitally, then there will be resistance in classrooms to doing work on paper or anything that feels “antiquated.”

The ubiquity of digital delivery devices does not mean that it needs to be the default. Setting the default to be what worked for years will go a long way towards improving education outcomes without stifling teachers' technological creativity. The goal of the 1990 litmus test isn’t to bring students back to the bygone era (as much as I’d personally like it) so much as it is to bring students back to a time where technology was a deliberate choice instead of an unconscious default.

Policy Priority:
High Expectations
Rochelle Van Dijk
10.16.2026
Wonkathon
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

Editor’s note: This essay is an entry in Fordham’s 2026 Wonkathon, which asked contributors to answer this question: “What rules should govern the uses of digital technology in schools—and who should set them?” Learn more.

We are asking the wrong question about technology in schools.

Debates over screen time, AI, and devices obscure a more fundamental question: What kind of human beings are we trying to help young people become?

Education develops more than knowledge. At its best, it cultivates reasoning, judgment, understanding of ourselves and others, and meaningful contribution.

Artificial intelligence presents an extraordinary opportunity to advance an even deeper purpose of education: the development of human consciousness. By consciousness, I mean not only awareness of our thoughts, but the capacity to direct attention, examine our assumptions, and become more attentive to the people and world around us.

AI could cultivate these capacities or undermine them. The difference depends on the rules and purposes we choose.

The risk of making learning too easy

Consider two students encountering a difficult mathematical problem. One asks AI for the answer, receives an explanation, and moves on. The other wrestles with the problem, makes mistakes, notices her frustration, tries another approach, and eventually arrives at a solution.

Both may produce the correct answer. But the second student has practiced far more than mathematics: attention, persistence, intellectual humility, and the ability to remain engaged in uncertainty.

AI can remove cognitive effort from almost any task. Sometimes that is exactly what we want. A student with a reading disability may benefit enormously from accessible text. But when technology routinely removes the struggle through which understanding develops, students may generate sophisticated answers without becoming capable thinkers.

The purpose of educational technology should not be to eliminate difficulty. It should be to make productive difficulty more accessible.

From artificial intelligence to human consciousness

This is the possibility I find most exciting: using artificial intelligence to cultivate the distinctly human capacities that intelligence alone cannot guarantee.

In high school, I read Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael, and something shifted. I suddenly became aware of assumptions and inherited stories shaping how I understood the world. I remember how intensely I resisted ideas that contradicted them, even while realizing many of my convictions were not truths I had experienced or tested myself.

AI might have helped me trace those assumptions, test competing evidence, and examine why certain ideas provoked such resistance. Or it might have handed me a neat summary of the book and ready answers, letting me bypass the discomfort that made the experience transformative.

Imagine a student using AI to develop an argument. Rather than write it for him, AI challenges his conclusions, offers contradictory evidence, and asks him to defend his reasoning. In mathematics, it might prompt another approach rather than supply the solution. In a classroom disagreement, it might help students separate what they observed from what they assumed.

These experiences deepen effort and help young people notice not only what they think, but how their minds work. That awareness might help them move beyond self-concern toward curiosity, connection, and contribution.

An educational AI tool should be evaluated not only by what it enables a student to accomplish while using it, but by what it enables the student to experience, understand, and do when it is no longer present.

Five rules for governing technology in schools

1. Protect attention. Attention is the foundation of consciousness and learning. Schools should block social media feeds, advertising, games, and unnecessary notifications on instructional devices, and keep personal phones away during the school day. In elementary grades, printed books, handwriting, discussion, and physical exploration should be the default. Rather than assigning every young child a device, schools should use shared devices for a clearly defined purpose. In later grades, teachers should close devices when they are not needed. The goal is not simply less screen time, but greater control over attention.

2. Preserve intellectual independence. Students must regularly demonstrate what they can understand, create, and explain without AI. Schools should distinguish work AI may support from work students must first attempt independently. Require first drafts, worked solutions, oral explanations, and some assessments completed without digital assistance. AI can critique an argument or provide targeted practice, but should not produce the thinking students are meant to learn.

3. Evaluate technology by the human capacities it develops. Before buying or renewing a tool, districts should identify the instructional need, compare it with a credible alternative, and specify what learning will improve. Pilot tools, examine student work and achievement, ask teachers about time and distraction, and test whether skills transfer when the device is closed. Publish an annual inventory of costs, usage, and evidence; discontinue tools that fail to justify their instructional time. Engagement is not the same as learning.

4. Keep human relationships at the center. Belonging, empathy, and moral judgment develop through relationships with real people. AI may help students prepare for conversations, not replace teachers, counselors, or peers. Schools should favor face-to-face dialogue and collaborative work whenever those are the learning goals. Consequential decisions about students must remain under human authority, with strong privacy protections. Devices should go home only for a defined learning or accessibility need, with families informed and printed alternatives where practical.

5. Teach students to question AI, including when not to use it. AI literacy must extend beyond prompting. Students should learn to detect errors and bias, challenge persuasive answers, and examine how platforms shape their attention and beliefs. Have them compare AI responses with primary sources, identify what a tool got wrong, and explain why they chose to use it. The ultimate measure of AI literacy is not proficiency with AI. It is the wisdom to use it intentionally.

Who should make the rules?

Governance should follow a simple principle: Establish common protections centrally, while keeping instructional judgment close to students.

States should set minimum standards for privacy, transparency, commercial exploitation, accessibility, and age-appropriate safeguards.

Districts should establish procurement standards, evaluate evidence, train educators, and adopt clear expectations for appropriate AI use. Families and students should have meaningful input.

Teachers and school leaders should retain flexibility to determine which instructional approaches best serve their students, including appropriate accommodations for students with disabilities and English learners, and technology-focused courses.

Students should gradually assume greater responsibility for governing their own technology use. After all, the goal is not permanent adult control. It is developing adults capable of governing themselves.

What it means to become more human

In an era when information and sophisticated answers are increasingly effortless, attention, judgment, courage, compassion, and wisdom will still require cultivation.

If education is primarily about producing correct answers, AI may outperform much of what we call schooling. But if education is about developing conscious, capable, compassionate human beings, the possibilities are extraordinary.

Policy Priority:
High Expectations
Chad Aldeman
10.16.2026
Students doing math
Getty Images/Ridofranz
Listen to this article
Loading the Elevenlabs Text to Speech AudioNative Player...

This summer, Sarah Cone wrote a provocative essay asking why today’s billionaire philanthropists don’t build institutions the way their predecessors did.

As examples, Cone cited Andrew Carnegie helping to build more than 2,500 libraries around the world and Julius Rosenwald (of Sears fame) partnering with Booker T. Washington to build more than 5,000 schools for Black children across the South.

Cone argued that these philanthropists identified “structural absences” in American civic life and then set out to fill the gaps, but that their modern counterparts, instead of starting their own institutions, have mostly been content to write large checks to universities, museums, and other nonprofits that already exist.

I think Cone is on to something. If a modern-day Carnegie or Rosenwald wanted to spend millions of dollars on a genuinely ambitious education project, what should he or she build? My answer starts with how much has changed since the turn of the 20th century.

Carnegie decided to fund libraries at a time when books were expensive and hard to access. Rosenwald put his resources toward building adequate school facilities for children who had none.

And those investments paid off. A recent study found that individuals who lived in or near cities with Carnegie libraries filed 10 percent to 12 percent more patents than people who lived in similar communities without one. Research on the Rosenwald schools found even broader effects, including gains in school attendance, literacy, years of schooling, and cognitive skills.

But access to libraries and schools is no longer the main barrier to learning. Today, there are schools and libraries all over the country, and the internet has made information cheap and easy to access.

The same is increasingly true of instruction itself. Math programs like Khan Academy will teach students everything from counting to calculus for free. In addition to traditional textbooks, YouTube is full of instructional videos, and there are countless other websites and apps. Artificial intelligence is making individualized instruction more accessible by the day.

Today, a motivated seventh grader with a laptop could theoretically start working through all of her course content tonight. When she finished, she could start eighth-grade math, then move on to algebra. There’s nothing to stop her except her own motivation—and the fact that her school may or may not recognize everything she’s learned on her own.

Schools aren’t designed to accommodate this abundance of information. They still put children of roughly the same age in a room and have a teacher deliver roughly the same material to all of them for the same 180 days. Some students struggle to keep up, while others master the material quickly and spend a lot of time waiting. At the end of the year, pretty much all students advance regardless of how they did on the state test.

But math is well-suited to a different model of schooling. Arithmetic provides a foundation for algebra, and algebra opens the door to more advanced mathematics. The sequence isn’t perfectly linear, and students need to loop back on old skills to make sure those don’t wither away. But what students know today strongly affects what they are ready to learn tomorrow.

Math also benefits from being relatively easy to assess. The question, “Does this child know Algebra I?” is easier to answer than “Has this child mastered ninth-grade English?”

There is also evidence that students benefit from moving ahead when they’re ready. A 2016 review synthesizing roughly a century of research found that academic acceleration had positive effects on student achievement. The same review found positive effects from grouping students across grade levels for particular subjects, which is especially relevant here. Instead of assuming all seventh graders should take seventh-grade math together, schools could group students according to the math they’re ready to learn.

Mastery-based learning is not a new concept, but historically, implementation has been difficult. Making it work in the real world would require at least two significant changes.

First, create a common yardstick.

Suppose our motivated seventh grader goes home every afternoon and eventually teaches herself Algebra I. What happens next? In most schools, nothing at all. Even if this student has mastered algebra, her school won’t necessarily recognize it. A parent can insist that her child already knows the material, but the school has no independent reason to believe it.

A philanthropist could solve that problem by building a series of rigorous, independent math mastery assessments.

Think of something like Advanced Placement exams, but corresponding roughly to today’s end-of-year state assessments. Students could take the exams whenever they were ready, rather than waiting for April or May. In addition to being available on demand, the exams would be rigorous, secure, independently validated, and available for free to all.

A new, external assessment organization also wouldn’t care where a child learned the content: at school, from a parent, or with a tutor. The point is to certify that students have mastered the material, regardless of how they got there.

Of course, the children most likely to take advantage of such an assessment system would probably have families who already seek out extra opportunities for their kids: buying workbooks, paying for tutors, and advocating for advancement opportunities.

So, while a high-quality, external assessment system could make math acceleration more common, it would not do much to make it universal. That’s where today’s philanthropists would need to pair it with a second investment:

Build Math Labs in disadvantaged schools.

Imagine if a wealthy philanthropist went to high-poverty middle and high schools and made them an offer. In exchange for shifting away from their time-based teaching method in math and letting students advance when they demonstrated mastery on the yardstick outlined above, the philanthropy would pay for the creation of Math Labs.

The labs would be staffed by the school’s credentialed math teachers, but their jobs would change. Rather than delivering, say, five lessons per day on seventh-grade math, they would work as a team to serve as math guides for students learning independently. They would monitor progress and be able to step in to shore up any weak areas. Paraprofessionals and other recent college graduates could serve one- or two-year Math Lab fellowships.

Computers could handle a large share of the day-to-day instruction. Students could watch explanations, work through examples, solve problems, and receive immediate feedback digitally. The software would track what each student had mastered and what he or she was ready to tackle next.

Teachers could then concentrate their time where it was most useful. They might pull together students who are all struggling with the same type of problem or work individually with one who is stuck. Meanwhile, students moving quickly wouldn’t have to wait for the rest of the class.

There’s some encouraging evidence for combining technology and human tutoring in this way, from both higher education and K–12. For example, a 2024 study followed roughly 4,000 ninth graders as they alternated between working directly with a tutor and using computer-assisted math instruction. The researchers estimated that participating students made substantial gains in math, at a cost of about $2,200 apiece.

A Math Lab would push that idea further by replacing the school’s regular math class. Every student would participate, and advancement would depend on demonstrated mastery rather than age or the school calendar.

Would it work?

There are plenty of reasons it might not. Middle and high schoolers might require more human assistance than I’m assuming. Schools might struggle to motivate students who aren’t eager to advance in math. A philanthropist could fund a rigorous evaluation to test those assumptions, including whether students who passed the external assessments succeeded in subsequent courses and what kinds of adult support students need.

But it’s worth seeing how fast children will go when schools stop making them wait. Maybe most seventh graders really do need about a year to learn seventh-grade math. But I suspect some students would prove to be capable of considerably more than the current system asks of them.

A century ago, philanthropists created libraries and schools to overcome scarcity. Today there are plenty of schools, computers, and good instructional resources. What’s missing is a system that takes advantage of that abundance. Students deserve math instruction at the level that’s right for them, an independent way to prove what they know, and permission to keep going once they’ve earned it. That’s a future worth building.

Editor’s note: This post by Chad Aldeman originally appeared at The 74.

Policy Priority:
High Expectations
Topics:
School Finance
Curriculum & Instruction
Advanced Education
Teachers & School Leaders

Pagination

  • First page « First
  • Previous page ‹ Previous
  • Page 1
  • Page 2
  • Current page 3
  • Page 4
  • Page 5
  • Page 6
  • Page 7
  • Page 8
  • Page 9
  • Next page Next ›
  • Last page Last »
Fordham Logo

© 2026 The Thomas B. Fordham Institute
Privacy Policy
Usage Agreement

National

P.O. Box 110
Burke, VA 22009

202.223.5452

[email protected]

Ohio

P.O. Box 82291
Columbus, OH 43202

614.223.1580

[email protected]

Sponsorship

130 West Second Street, Suite 410
Dayton, Ohio 45402

937.227.3368

[email protected]