Hilary Cremin’s new book contains a subtle provocation with the kind of edge that tends to unnerve policy people. Rewilding schools is her goal. They should not be altered, reformed, or subjected to another round of standardized testing. Give them new life. When applied to a classroom, the metaphor sounds almost whimsical at first.
It originates from ecology, where overmanaged landscapes are gradually returned to nature. However, the whimsy disappears after a short while of arguing. What remains is more akin to a warning.
| Key Information | Details |
|---|---|
| Author | Professor Hilary Cremin |
| Role | Head of the Faculty of Education |
| Institution | University of Cambridge |
| Book | Rewilding Education |
| Core Idea | Replacing rigid, factory-style schooling with holistic, nature-connected, project-based learning |
| Key Statistic | Attainment gap reaches roughly 19 months by end of secondary school |
| Notable Past Moment | One of 100 academics labelled “enemies of promise” by UK Education Secretary Michael Gove in 2013 |
| Related Research | Published in the Australian Journal of Environmental Education, May 2025 |
| Influences | Rabindranath Tagore, wild pedagogies scholarship, ecological restoration theory |
| Central Metaphor | “Rewilding” — borrowed from conservation, applied to classrooms |
As the head of Cambridge’s Faculty of Education, Cremin has witnessed multiple waves of school reform come and go. She was one of the scholars Michael Gove dismissed as a “enemy of promise” back in 2013, and reading her now gives the impression that she no longer cares if ministers agree with her viewpoints. She notes that the data hasn’t changed. Throughout the academic years, the achievement gap between wealthy and poor students continues to grow. Test results fluctuate. Teachers experience burnout. Children take medication. The factory continues to operate.
She has that factory image, and once you see it, it’s difficult to break. desk rows. Bells. Bell curves. A model created in the 19th century for a nonexistent economy is still working in a world that has been altered by generative AI, climate change, and an unpredictable labor market. American educators who read this might be able to identify the image right away. A U.S. high school’s layout, including the lockers, hall passes, and strict block schedule, is basically a Victorian legacy dressed in Wi-Fi.
Instead, what Cremin suggests is more complicated and difficult to quantify on paper. More outdoor instruction. gardens at schools. project-based work connected to real-world communities. Teenagers, whose biology won’t cooperate with seven a.m. first periods, should start later. civic involvement, mindfulness, and taking a walk and reflecting before responding to difficult questions. She relies on wild pedagogies research, Tagore, and the outmoded notion that nature itself can serve as a kind of co-teacher. Technology-wise, none of this is difficult. The majority of it is inexpensive. That could be the reason why it causes anxiety.
Is it possible for it to succeed in America? A case needs to be made. There are already pockets of it: place-based curricula in rural Vermont, forest schools in the Pacific Northwest, and the gradual but significant push to extend high school start times past 8:30 a.m. The political issue is more difficult. Accountability metrics are the foundation of American education, and by definition, rewilding defies the spreadsheet. A child does not produce a clean data point if they spend the morning identifying birds on an empty lot.
Even so, it’s difficult to ignore the slight shifting of the ground while observing this exchange from a distance. Over the years, I’ve spoken with teachers who hardly ever seem to have faith in the system they operate within. Even as scores rise, parents appear more nervous rather than less. At least Cremin has identified the problem clearly. It remains to be seen if American schools would ever be able to relax enough to experiment with her ideas. Here, the urge to standardize is deeply ingrained. However, there is a deeper instinct to give things some space to grow.
