Ofsted, Inclusion and the Long View: Reflections from the Inspection Journey

For many school and college leaders, Ofsted sits somewhere between a necessary accountability mechanism and an ever-present source of anxiety. Over the course of my career, I’ve experienced inspections under multiple frameworks, amid shifting political priorities and changing definitions of what “good” looks like. I’ve felt frustration and disappointment, and at times a sense that the system was not designed for schools serving the most complex communities.  

Yes, of course, this is a positive stance towards Ofsted, and it would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise, given the recent strong inspection outcome at London Design and Engineering UTC (LDE UTC). But this reflection is not based on a single moment or a glowing report. It comes from time. From a journey that has not always been smooth. From inspections that challenged, disappointed and, at times, felt deeply unfair. From living through frameworks that did not always value inclusion, context or the long-term impact of educational work.  

More recently, however, I experienced something different. An inspection that felt grounded, human, and genuinely interested in understanding a school’s journey rather than simply judging a snapshot in time. One that listened, challenged, triangulated, and ultimately recognised the work we do.  

This article is neither a defence of Ofsted nor a technical breakdown of the framework. It reflects on philosophy, experience, and leadership, and on what the new inspection approach might mean for those of us who have stayed the course, held our nerve, and continued to place inclusion and employer engagement at the heart of education, even when it was not always fashionable.  

Philosophy, Experience and Early Ofsted Encounters  

For me, education has always been about the journey. Not just outcomes, not just grades, but what happens to young people along the way and after they leave school. 

Early in my career, an older teacher walked into the staffroom, looked at me and said: “Listen here, sonny boy. I’ve got two bits of advice for you. First, pick a teaching style and stick to it; every ten years you’ll be in fashion. Second, when you stop smiling, get out.” At the time, it sounded flippant. I didn’t fully appreciate how right he was. Looking back, both points feel uncomfortably accurate.  

For much of the last decade, I felt I was pushing against the Ofsted framework rather than working with it. Our 2018 inspection, which resulted in a ’Requires Improvement’ judgement, was deeply disappointing not just for me but for our learners, our parents, our staff and our employers. It felt less like a reflection of our work and more like the consequence of a national agenda that prioritised certain measures over others. At that time, the system was heavily driven by performance tables, narrow definitions of success and an implicit pressure towards academisation for those deemed under-performing.  

At times, Ofsted felt like a lottery. Timing mattered. National priorities mattered. Whether the system focused on performance tables, specific subjects or structural reform mattered. You could do the work, align with policy, and still feel the outcome depended on forces beyond your control. A bit like buying a lottery ticket: technically possible to win, but with the odds stacked firmly against you. Yet the framework itself was never hidden. Government papers clearly set out what was valued. The challenge was that doing what was measurable was not always the same as doing what you felt was right.   

For me, leadership has always come back to inclusion. Not chasing the top of league tables, but ensuring every young person, particularly those who had struggled elsewhere, had a genuine chance of success. Our ethos at LDE UTC is built around two “golden tickets”.  

The first is qualifications. Exams matter. They are the ticket through the gate to the next opportunity. We must never pretend otherwise, especially for disadvantaged learners.  

The second golden ticket is experience. Employer engagement, real projects, professional language and exposure to the world beyond school helps learners understand expectations in the workplace and beyond the school gates. The ability to articulate ideas, work in teams and imagine a future are all important facets. When learners work with employers, their vocabulary changes. They begin to speak not just the language of subjects, but the language of work. That shift alone transforms confidence, interviews and destinations.  

Above everything sits one simple mantra, displayed across our college: “Don’t look back on missed opportunities”. If you don’t have a go, you’ll never know. Try, experience and then decide. That philosophy underpins everything we do.  

For a long time, it felt as if that philosophy put us out of step with Ofsted. Today, it feels as if it has finally come back into fashion. 

What Is Different About the New Ofsted Inspection?  

I have attended countless conferences where leaders talk about “the journey”. For years, I struggled with that language because Ofsted used to be a snapshot, a moment frozen in time, disconnected from what came before or after. That has changed. The new framework is built around the idea of a “secure fit.” This is not about being good in places. Every area matters. Every box must be secure. In some ways, that is intimidating. It can feel like a vast tick-box exercise. However, it is better understood as an examination specification. Like a GCSE, you don’t revise half the content and hope the examiner avoids the rest. You cover everything, because anything could be assessed. Inspection now works in a similar way, except the “exam” lasts two days and covers everything the DfE has deemed all schools should be doing.  

Inclusion, attendance and behaviour, curriculum and teaching, personal development and wellbeing, leadership and governance, and achievement outcomes are examined in depth and over time. Inspectors are no longer fixated on a single set of examination results. They now look at four years of data, trends and group performance, not just the latest headline results. The Inspection Data Summary Report (IDSR) becomes a diagnostic tool rather than a blunt instrument, allowing leaders to see where they are close to, above, well above, below or even well below national averages, and where disadvantaged learners sit within that picture.   

This allows leaders to self-evaluate honestly. You can see where the evidence is thin, where improvement planning needs to focus, and where your journey is genuinely secure. In that sense, the framework, whilst tough, is also transparent. It does not allow you to hide, but it does allow you to understand your school better and where you are on your journey.  

For schools and colleges that are serious about inclusion, this is significant. Achievement still matters, but it is no longer disconnected from who your learners are, where they come from, and what barriers they face. The framework now asks: ’Are all learners moving forward?’ That is a profoundly different question from ’How high is your average score?’  

In our recent inspection, this shift was evident. Our inclusive model, often questioned under previous frameworks, was fully understood and rigorously tested. The outcome was five exceptional judgements in:  

• Inclusion  
• Attendance and behaviour  
• Curriculum and teaching  
• Personal development and well-being  
• Leadership and governance  

Alongside two strong judgements in:  

• Achievement  
• Post-16 provision  

Those judgements did not come from presentation or performance on the day. I believe they came from sustained practice, consistency and a model that genuinely places learners at the centre.   

The Inspection Experience – and Advice for Other Headteachers  

At 9:36 on Monday morning, the call came. This time, the process felt different from the start. We were allowed to present on Teams – with as many leaders in the room as we wanted. I could share my screen, follow a script, and set the context visually using infographics. That mattered. Context always matters and I spoke openly about our school context, location, deprivation, regeneration, mobility and disadvantage. I showcased our curriculum and pedagogy and our status as an atypical institution drawing learners from over a hundred feeder schools. I outlined our practice of always welcoming learners who needed a fresh start and learners who were previously excluded. This provided a more nuanced lens through which to judge our examination results, attendance rates and other key metrics. 

The inspection day itself was calm yet intense. Five inspectors arrived and immediately immersed themselves in the life of the college, talking to learners, walking the corridors, observing breakfast provision, and meeting staff. The lead inspector asked me to show him the college, and I was ready. We visited live employer engagement sessions, technical workshops, digital design projects, pastoral hubs and inclusion spaces. Inspectors spoke directly to learners, many of them. Case studies were triangulated relentlessly. Inspectors selected their own learners to follow, often ignoring the examples we had prepared. The team of inspectors observed 36 lessons on day one of the inspection; there was nowhere to hide!  

More than two hundred learners participated in student panels and meetings on day 2. Inspectors spoke to groups of our most vulnerable learners, our learners with problematic behaviour records, high achievers, post-16 learners, girls, Year 12 Level 2 learners, and those on Fresh Start pathways. The tone throughout was professional, curious and respectful. This did not feel adversarial, rather it felt collaborative. It felt like Ofsted was trying to understand us, not catch us out.  

The judgements we received reflected our learners’ lived experiences every day. What surprised me was how clearly the inspection framework now allowed that story to be told.  

Advice for other leaders 

Know your story. Not the marketing version, the real one. Data without context is dangerous. Context without data is weak. You need both, and you need to believe in them.  

Plan your walk. That first tour with the lead inspector matters. Show inspectors what they won’t see at 9 am by accident. Inclusion is lived, not stored in policies.  

Don’t fear scrutiny if your values are sound.  

The new framework is tougher, but fairer. If inclusion truly sits at the heart of your work, it will show.  

And keep smiling.  

That old teacher was right. If you still believe in what you’re doing, inspections become conversations, not a confrontation. After 25 years in education, it finally feels like the philosophy underpinning the work at LDE UTC is once again recognised and for the first time in a long while, that feels like progress worth celebrating.    

By Geoffrey Fowler, LDE UTC