A fifteen-year-old is sitting through a wellbeing lesson somewhere in an English secondary school, and they are essentially told that the objective is to feel happy. to control the negative emotions. to recover. It’s probably harmless, well-intentioned, and possibly even somewhat effective. However, there is a growing belief—supported by a Cambridge study—that this entire strategy is misdirected.
Over 600 teenagers from seven English schools participated in the study, which was headed by Dr. Tania Clarke of the Faculty of Education. What it discovered is the kind of outcome that only becomes apparent when stated aloud. GCSE scores were significantly higher for students who felt capable, driven, and focused on something greater than themselves, particularly in math. Those who just said they were content with their lives? No discernible improvement in academic performance.
Eudaimonia, an ancient Greek term that has been subtly reappearing in psychology journals, is the technical term for the first type of wellbeing. Functioning well—having a sense of purpose, believing in your own ability to improve, and having a general idea of who you want to become—is more important than feeling good. In math, the students with the highest eudaimonic scores were doing exceptionally well. Near the bottom of the grading scale were those with the lowest scores. In certain instances, the difference amounted to a few complete grades. That’s the difference between an open door and a closed one for a teenager who is hovering around a 3 or 4.
The data’s ability to clearly distinguish between the two concepts is remarkable. Academic performance was unaffected by life satisfaction, the metric that most schools covertly pursue. Everything was done by Eudaimonia. However, English schools have been incorporating “happiness” into the Relationships, Sex, and Health Education curriculum under government guidance, as though cheerfulness were a teachable skill comparable to long division. The policy may have always been a bit naive. It’s also possible that until now, the research community hasn’t provided educators with a more environmentally friendly option.
The study contains a more subdued discovery that could be even more damning. Many of the statements made by students during Clarke’s direct interviews should make any teacher uncomfortable. They talked about how receiving poor grades made them feel unworthy. She was informed by one that receiving a low score was “literally the end of the world.” They had internalized the idea that grades are equal, and the system had constantly reaffirmed this. Eudaimonia and, consequently, the grades themselves may be hindered by the very pressure schools put on students to improve exam scores.
The proponents of the growth mindset, who have spent the past ten years arguing that self-improvement is the key component, also don’t come out on top. Although a growth mindset was more common among students with high eudaimonia, it did not predict anything on its own. The hard work was being done by the deeper sense of purpose. Instead of being the driver, the mindset was that of a passenger.
It’s difficult to avoid thinking that schools have been polishing the wrong surface as you watch this unfold. It’s simple to advise a fourteen-year-old to be resilient. It is slower, messier, and less quantifiable to assist that same adolescent in discovering what they truly care about, what they are good at, and what kind of adult they want to become. It doesn’t neatly fit into a wellbeing week or a lesson plan. However, the Cambridge data indicates that it may be the factor that truly makes a difference in both grades and other aspects of life. The more difficult question remains whether the educational system is prepared to slow down sufficiently to accomplish this.⁖※
