• Do you remember when teachers were agitated and dismayed and moaning into our Nescafe in the staffroom about Wikipedia? ‘Unreliable,’ we lamented.

    Wikipedia’s now become a relatively trusted and frequently visited website. It’s often the first stop for students (university and high school) researching  assignments, adults checking a fact, and even journalists refreshing their memories. Unlike peer-reviewed journals, the ‘pedia is written and edited by amateurs (mostly), volunteers, ordinary people who are not credentialed, PhD-ed experts. So how did we come to trust it so much? Did the ‘pedia get better, or is it an illusion – other web-based sources are even worse?

    The ‘pedia’s story is, in many ways, a mirror of our digital age. When it was launched in 2001, the idea that “anyone can edit” seemed reckless, even dangerous. But over time, its collaborative model produced something remarkable: a living, constantly updated repository of human knowledge. Its openness invited thousands and then millions of contributors to fact-check, debate, and refine information in real time. That communal process is inherently imperfect but it also corrects errors faster than traditional publications can. In a world that moves at internet speed, authority has become less about formal credentials and more about transparency and responsiveness.

    Our dependence on the ‘pedia also reveals something unsettling about us – convenience and no-cost seems more important to us than credibility. A neatly summarised article, complete with citations and a clean interface, feels authoritative, even when we don’t verify its sources. This trust speaks not only to the ‘pedia’s success but also to a broader problem: our declining skill of critical thinking. We skim, we accept, and we move on, rarely questioning who wrote an article, what their motives were, or whether alternative perspectives might exist.

    The ‘pedia’s popularity is a triumph of collective intelligence, but it’s also a test of our discernment. It shows that humans are capable of remarkable cooperation, yet still vulnerable to the illusion of knowledge. Perhaps the lesson is not to distrust tje ‘pedia, but to understand it for what it is: a starting point, not an endpoint. In the age of open information, our greatest responsibility isn’t to reject accessible knowledge, it’s to engage with it – critically.

    The ‘pedia tells two stories at once: one of human ingenuity, and one of human gullibility. Which story defines us depends on how carefully we read and whether our teachers taught us how to think critically.


  • To everyone involved in creating and maintaining IBExchange: thank you! Truly.

    For those of us who’ve been teaching the IB long enough to remember the OCC (Online Curriculum Centre), yes, I know, I’m showing my age, IBExchange feels like a breath of fresh air. The OCC served its purpose in its day, but IBExchange is something altogether different: modern, well-organised, collaborative, official, and teacher-friendly in every way.

    What strikes me most is how thoughtfully it has been designed. There’s a dedicated section for every subject, and within each, a community chat space led by a subject expert, often a workshop leader or curriculum insider. This is the perfect space to ask for official advice or to get authoritative answers about Subject Guides, assessment expectations, and exam procedures. No more posting questions in unofficial social media groups and sorting through a pile of conflicting or speculative replies. IBExchange provides clarity, professionalism, and accuracy, all in one place.

    Then there’s the treasure trove of teacher resources. Some are professional development materials such as pptx presentations, videos, and documents that help us grow as educators. Others are classroom-ready teaching materials created by subject experts and peer-reviewed by other experts. Everything comes with the IB’s seal of approval, which means we can finally stop worrying about quality or compliance. And did I mention? It’s all free. That alone makes IBExchange infinitely more valuable than many of the overpriced, inconsistent subscription sites that have popped up over the years.

    It’s hard not to feel a little giddy about it, honestly. This is exactly the kind of platform IB teachers have needed for years: a space that combines community, credibility, and collaboration. My only surprise is that more teachers aren’t using it yet. If you haven’t already, you can access it easily through your MyIB page and once you’re there, you’ll wonder how you managed without it.

    So, to the IB team, the subject managers, the workshop leaders, the reviewers, the developers, and everyone else behind the scenes: thank you. You’ve created something extraordinary for educators around the world. IBExchange isn’t just an upgrade from the old OCC; it’s a giant leap forward for the entire IB teaching community.

    With genuine appreciation,
    A grateful IB teacher


  • Hello Everyone,

    Just a quick update on how things are going with teaching the New Psychology Guide; this time focusing on Paper 1 assessment practice.

    The biggest shift I’ve noticed so far is how much more intentional we need to be in preparing students for the types of questions they will face with the 4, 6, and 15 markers. Understanding these differences early has been important in helping students feel confident and grounded.

    I have learned that students really need frequent, low-stakes exposure to these question types rather than waiting for a big assessment moment. So, every lesson we now do at least one practice/formative 4 or 6-marker question, and once a week we plan a 15-marker together. I keep this process quick and relatively stress-free by using a shared Google Doc as this allows us to build a collective sense of progress while keeping things collaborative.

    “Chaos is order yet undeciphered”, from José Saramago’s novel The Double (2002)

    At this stage, Paper 1 is our main class focus. I rarely mention Paper 2 yet; students are already juggling enough new ideas, and adding the internal assessment too early only increases anxiety. Instead, I tell them to “forget about Paper 2” until we reach the class practical at the end of our first Context. This mirrors how I’m handling the HLE and Research Methods, taking it slow, layering understanding, and prioritising confidence over coverage. I know this is tough in schools that want grades early in the course. I always say I don’t really start to form an IB picture of a student until January/February of Year 1. By this point they have been in exam conditions a few times and had time to build confidence with content and exam skills. 

    Remember the 3Cs – but our 4th C is Confidence!


  • Sweller’s 1980s Cognitive Load Theory (CLT), offers compelling advice for designing effective lessons, particularly valuable in the demanding IB’s Diploma Programme (IBDP). CLT  is based on the idea that working memory has limited capacity, while long-term memory can store vast amounts of information. When tasks overload working memory, learning becomes clogged. But by managing cognitive load effectively, teachers can help students process complex material more deeply and remember it for longer.

    CLT distinguishes between three types of cognitive load. Intrinsic load is the natural difficulty of the content itself, for example, understanding equilibrium in DP Economics or evaluating Sicial Indentity Theory in DP Psychology. Teachers can manage intrinsic load by sequencing lessons, introducing simpler concepts first, and using scaffolding techniques such as guided examples or partially completed essays.

    Extraneous load arises from poor instructional design. It includes anything that distracts from learning such as unclear slides, irrelevant details, overly wordy explanations or rowdy next door classrooms. In DP classrooms, this might mean simplifying PowerPoints, aligning spoken explanations with visual aids, and avoiding split attention, for example, by integrating text directly into diagrams. The goal is to remove unnecessary obstacles so students can focus on understanding.

    Finally, germane load is the productive effort that contributes directly to learning. Teachers can increase germane load by encouraging students to connect new ideas to prior knowledge and actively build mental frameworks that psychologists call schemas. Strategies such as retrieval practice, mind mapping, peer teaching, and open questioning can all enhance germane load, helping students consolidate and apply what they learn.

    Practical examples of CLT in DP lessons include using worked examples in Mathematics, structured essay plans in Psychology, and concept maps in Biology or History. Breaking complex assessments like the Extended Essay or Internal Assessments into manageable stages also helps reduce overload and promotes sustained engagement.

    CLT reminds teachers that learning depends not just on what is taught, but on how it is taught.


  • We’ve all experienced it: twenty minutes into explaining a complex economic theory or psychological concept, you glance up to find half the class’s eyes glazed over, staring into the middle distance. Then you pivot to a story, maybe about the Dutch tulip mania or Phineas Gage’s railway accident, and suddenly every eye is on you again.

    Stories are the oldest teaching technology we have, and they remain startlingly effective in the IB classroom.

    The opening matters. Start with tension, contradiction, or human drama. ‘In 1848, an iron rod shot through a man’s skull, and he survived to become psychology’s most famous patient’ beats ‘Today we’re learning about brain localization’. That initial hook creates curiosity, the cognitive itch that keeps students engaged.

    But capturing attention is only half the battle. Maintaining it requires pacing. The best classroom stories move. They have rising action, unexpected turns, stakes that matter. When teaching about market failures in Economics, don’t just explain externalities, tell the story of London’s Great Stink of 1858, when the Thames became so toxic that Parliament had to flee, ultimately forcing the city to build a sewer system. The narrative carries students through the concept of externalities without them realising they’re learning theory.

    Here’s where art meets science: the ending must bridge back to your learning objective. The story isn’t entertainment; it’s a vehicle. After describing how confirmation bias led intelligence analysts to miss warning signs before the Iraq War (ToK/Global Politics), you make the explicit connection: ‘This is why we must actively seek disconfirming evidence in our own thinking’. The story provides the memorable anchor; your conclusion provides the syllabus-relevant takeaway.

    The most effective teaching stories also leave room for discussion. End with a question that transfers the concept: ‘Where else might we see this pattern?’ This transforms passive listening into active thinking.

    Master storytellers understand something big about teaching and learning: we’re not training students to memorise facts; we’re teaching them to think with concepts. Stories make abstract ideas concrete, forgettable theories memorable, and distant topics immediate.

    Oh, and by the way, don’t ever let the truth get in the way of a great story.


  • If you’ve ever wondered why some of your students seem effortlessly motivated while others struggle to engage, Deci and Ryan’s Self-Determination Theory (SDT) offers an explanation. SDT suggests people thrive when three basic needs are met: autonomy, competence, and relatedness.

    Autonomy is the sense of control and choice students feel motivated when they believe their learning is self-directed, not imposed. This doesn’t mean removing structure; it means offering meaningful options, like letting students choose essay topics or topics for their Internal Assessments.

    Competence is the need to feel capable and effective. In the IB context, this translates to students feeling that their effort leads to their progress. When tasks are scaffolded appropriately, i.e. challenging and achievable, learners are more likely to persist, master skills, and enjoy the process.

    Relatedness is the social dimension: the need to feel connected to others. Supportive teacher–student relationships, collaborative activities, and a classroom climate of respect all feed this need. Students who feel valued and understood are far more likely to invest emotionally in their learning.

    SDT also distinguishes between intrinsic motivation (doing something because it’s interesting or personally meaningful) and extrinsic motivation (doing it for rewards or to avoid punishment). The IB Diploma, with its emphasis on inquiry, reflection, and real-world relevance, is ideally suited to nurturing intrinsic motivation, but only if we design learning experiences that tap into those three needs.

    For IB teachers, the message is clear: motivation isn’t something we give students; it’s something we help them build from within. When autonomy, competence, and relatedness are in balance, engagement deepens, learning becomes self-sustaining, and students start to take genuine ownership of their education.

    In short, Self-Determination Theory reminds us that motivated learners aren’t just compliant: they’re connected, confident, and in control.


  • Dual Processing Theory proposes that our thinking operates through two systems. System 1 is fast, automatic, and intuitive. It relies on gut feelings and mental shortcuts. System 2 is slower, deliberate, and analytical and it requires conscious effort and logical reasoning. System 1 helps us make quick decisions, but it’s also prone to bias and error.

    Slick salespeople are masters at keeping us in System 1 mode by using emotional triggers, urgency (“only two left!”), and social proof (“everyone’s buying this”) to push us toward snap decisions rather than careful thought. When we use emotions instead of analysis, we’re far more likely to make impulsive choices that feel right in the moment but aren’t necessarily rational or even in our best interest.

    A simple but powerful defense is mental numeracy: the ability to add, divide, and calculate percentages in your head. This basic skill allows us to use System 2 thinking, helping us slow down and test the numbers behind a claim or offer. Whether it’s working out a “25% discount,” estimating interest rates, or spotting inflated statistics, numeracy keeps us grounded in reason and protects us from manipulation.

    And that’s why every school should continue to prioritise mental arithmetic. It’s not just about passing exams; it’s about building citizens who can think clearly, question confidently, and resist being misled. We also need to stamp out the insidious attitude that “I’m not a numbers person.” No one would proudly say “I can’t read,” so why celebrate being bad at maths? Basic numeracy is not optional, it’s one of the strongest tools we have against error, bias, and exploitation.

    And basic arithmetic is not complicated. It’s just a memorising game. It doesn’t require special genes or an app. Flashcards and repetition. And Motivation. (Tomorrow’s blog is all about Motivation.)


  • Once again, I’ve read another article on toxic masculinity. And once again, it had all the explanations, all the answers — except it didn’t.

    It utterly missed the point.

    On behalf of boys and men everywhere: we’re getting a bit fed up.

    No, I am not to blame for poverty, climate change, AI, the global financial crisis, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Trump’s tariffs, the falling exchange rate, the rising trade deficit, inflation, unemployment, population decline, or even the desperate plight of the bumblebee.

    Nor is Jordan Peterson. Or Douglas Murray.

    Like almost all men and boys, I’m just getting by. Trying to work my forty hours a week, pay the rent, put food on the table, not upset anyone, and maybe find a few quiet hours to watch YouTube or get some sleep.

    But every time I open an article on “toxic masculinity,” it feels like the finger points at me — not as an individual, not even as a man, but as part of a supposedly broken gender. And frankly, that’s getting old.

    The truth is, most men I know are decent. They show up. They care. They take responsibility. They support their partners, their kids, their parents, and their mates. They don’t go around blaming “toxic femininity” or anyone else for life’s problems — they just keep going.

    Maybe it’s time we had a more honest conversation about masculinity — one that doesn’t start with blame, but with understanding. About the quiet pressure men feel to keep everything together. About the shame that comes with failure, silence, or asking for help. About how most of us don’t want to dominate anyone; we just want to matter.

    So could all the experts on “toxic masculinity” please stop blaming 99.9% of men for everything that’s wrong with the world?
    We’re not the problem. We’re part of the same human struggle as everyone else — just trying to make it through.


  • Let’s be realistic: AI tools like ChatGPT aren’t going anywhere. Rather than fighting them, we should embrace how they can genuinely help students’ learning in our Economics and Psychology lessons (yes  and GloPo and Geography and…)

    The most obvious benefits are practical. Students get instant clarification on complex concepts like elasticity, marginal analysis, ethical frameworks, or psychological perspectives without waiting for teacher availability. Multilingual learners can quickly verify vocabulary, check spelling, and clarify nuanced differences between similar terms like equality and equity and ethics and responsibility. These are simple wins that reduce friction in learning.

    But here’s where it gets interesting: AI as a peer marking substitute. This might be the most transformative classroom application. Students can submit practice essays, receive detailed feedback immediately, and revise before final submission. Unlike overwhelmed teachers or distracted classmates, AI provides consistent, patient feedback at 2 AM or during study lessons. This creates a faster feedback loop.

    Beyond basic support, AI excels at writing improvement. It can suggest more concise phrasing, identify sloppy language, improve sentence variety, and help students find precise academic vocabulary. It checks logical sequencing in paragraphs, suggests better transitions, and helps organize brainstormed ideas into coherent outlines. For self-assessment, AI generates practice questions, creates study prompts, and offers sample answers for comparison. It can even simplify dense academic texts for initial comprehension.

    These tools function as both tool and peer. Like a calculator or dictionary, they’re quick and accurate for checking details. Like a study partner, they’re good for support and dialogue. This dual nature means AI extends learning capacity.

    The key is teaching students to use AI as a learning partner. When they use it to clarify, verify, refine, and deepen their understanding, they’re engaging more thoughtfully with content. That’s not cheating, it’s smart learning. We mustn’t ban AI; we must teach students how to leverage it effectively while maintaining academic integrity and developing their own critical thinking skills.


  • The IB has updated the Extended Essay Subject Guide (first exams 2027). One of the least discussed changes is that students in Language A can now write their essay in Literature: Creative Writing. There are five approved genres: romance, science fiction, literary fiction, humour, and epic poetry. Apparently, this is to give students greater opportunity to develop their Creativity which is one of the new strands/sub-circles to ATL (Approaches to Teaching and Learning). And, of course, another C to add to the omnipresent Concepts, Contexts, Content and Chaos.  

    Students can now channel their inner Jane Austen or J.R.R. Tolkien or Danny Brown while earning their diploma points.

    And of course, students can go Interdisciplinary and combine an essay in creative writing with another subject such as Physics, Mathematics or Geography. 

    The Farcebook post suggested some possible titles:

    1. “Pride and the Pythagoras: To what extent does the square of the hypotenuse lack humility?”

    2. “Fifty Shades of Gray Matter: To what extent is Psychology dominated by sexual curiosity?”

    3 “To what extent does Sun Tzu’s War and Peace explain the conflict in Ukraine?”

    4. “Zombies and Zygotes: An exploration of the semi-living.”

    5. “2b or not 2b? The secret algebra within Shakespeare’s Hamlet.’

    6. “The lord of the files: Is Linux the best file management system?”