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When my husband and I requested time off from primary school in Australia for a family holiday to Germany, the teachers were enthusiastic: “Go and have fun,” they said. “The boys will learn so much more in Europe. No need to do anything but read while you’re away; they can catch up when you return.” When we moved to Germany, however, the same request in reverse—five extra days over Christmas to visit Australia—was met with resistance. The principal initially refused, eventually granting a one-time exception only after detailed explanations, a supporting letter from an Australian tutor and an official permission letter to present to the police if questioned at the airport.
Attendance: Schulpflicht vs. School Refusal
This anecdote highlights Germany’s strict enforcement of Schulpflicht (compulsory school attendance from ages 6 to 15), which is meant to ensure consistent educational engagement and reflects the cultural emphasis on discipline and structure. In contrast, Australia encourages international travel and rich learning experiences, which is understandable for a geographically isolated country. But has Australia’s attitude toward school attendance become too lax?
School refusal, a phenomenon characterized by a persistent reluctance or refusal to attend school due to emotional distress, despite parental support, pre-dated the pandemic but was relatively rare. School refusal is different from truancy, which is unauthorized absence without parental knowledge. School refusal is estimated to affect [ [link removed] ] up to 5% of children and adolescents in Australia. It is influenced by multiple factors, including individual, familial, educational and societal dynamics.
Though definitions and data vary, many experts believe school refusal is increasing significantly in Australia. Permissive attendance policies, part-time schooling options and lenient academic progression standards may unintentionally reinforce avoidance behaviours. Australians argue that flexibility supports diverse needs, while Germans might counter that maintaining strict attendance expectations and rigorous assessments is key to addressing school refusal or preventing it in the first place.
The challenge of attendance is also deeply relevant in the United States, where chronic absenteeism (typically defined as missing 10% or more of the school year for any reason) has been a growing concern, particularly in the aftermath of the pandemic. Recent research indicates [ [link removed] ] that absenteeism has not only increased in frequency, but also affects a broader range of students across grade levels and demographics, with absences occurring more consistently over extended periods of time. While flexibility in attendance policies was initially introduced to support students’ well-being, critics argue that it has inadvertently exacerbated disengagement from learning. Some educators call for a renewed emphasis on attendance enforcement, drawing comparisons to systems like Germany’s.
Recognition: Holistic Merit vs. Academic Metrics
The German and Australian systems also differ in their approach to recognition and evaluation. In Australia, our sons often received awards celebrating character and achievements, such as when my 7-year-old was recognized for kindness and my 6-year-old for helping a Sudanese classmate learn Australian football. In Germany, however, they have not received an award in five years, despite becoming fluent in German within a year and successfully integrating socially in the midst of a pandemic. Recognition is less visible, and evaluations are almost exclusively quantitative.
To the contrary, Australia prioritizes emotional development, mental health and inclusivity, shifting school policies toward well-being. Initiatives such as mindfulness programs, well-being check-ins and health-focused projects aim to foster mental resilience.
A 2023 Australian nationwide survey found that 69% of parents would consider changing schools if their children were unhappy or not well supported, whereas only 20% would do so to improve academic performance. Despite funding applications for well-being-focused initiatives [ [link removed] ] growing from 31% to 48% between 2018 and 2023, almost one-quarter of parents surveyed desired even more support [ [link removed] ] in well-being programs, highlighting a significant demand for such initiatives.
While well-being is important for academic success [ [link removed] ], putting it before academic performance may come with difficult tradeoffs. For example, a focus on well-being can crowd out emphasis on numeracy and literacy. Falling academic performance at the national level has many complex causes, but the rise in Australia’s focus on well-being has occurred alongside alarming declines [ [link removed] ] in literacy and numeracy, with reading scores, math and science scores falling. Australian students are in fact failing to achieve [ [link removed] ] proficient reading levels, potentially costing the economy $40 billion over their lifetimes.
In the United States, concerns are growing that a well-intentioned emphasis on student well-being is leading to a decline in academic rigor. Some educators argue that leniency in enforcing deadlines and workplace norms is not serving students well [ [link removed] ], as it fails to prepare them for real-world expectations. Additionally, the increasing number of accommodations granted by colleges—sometimes mandated through legal rulings—raises concerns about whether the system is fostering resilience or inadvertently diminishing students’ ability [ [link removed] ] to cope with challenges. While there is value in recognizing students’ emotional well-being, critics warn that excessive accommodations and lax academic standards may erode personal accountability and preparedness for post-education careers.
Progression: Failing to Fail vs. Cutthroat Standards
In Australia, my husband and I rarely worried about whether our children would progress to the next year of education. Failing a year was very rare unless a child faced significant learning difficulties or intellectual challenges. Assessments and tests were infrequent, with high-stakes exams reserved for the later years of schooling.
In Germany, by contrast, it is relatively common for children to be held back and repeat a class if their academic performance does not meet required standards. The Germans use standardized testing from primary school onward to determine students’ academic pathways. By age 10, students are placed into Gymnasium (university track), Realschule (middle-tier academic/vocational training) or Hauptschule (practical workforce preparation). These placements have long-term implications, influencing future educational and career opportunities.
Australians are often shocked by the idea of sorting children into academic streams at such a young age, and they may have good reason to see it as a harsh system. Germans would argue, however, that the system aims to align educational paths with students’ abilities, fostering a culture of accountability and preparedness from an early age. Nevertheless, the German system’s high standards may have other costs—approximately 12% of young people ages 18-24 leave education prematurely [ [link removed] ], one of the highest early school leaving rates in the EU.
Germany’s vocational sector is robust, respected and well-integrated into the economy, but the early sorting process may discourage slower-developing students. This may be particularly disadvantageous for boys [ [link removed] ], who tend to mature later. While high levels of attrition are tolerated as part of academic rigor, they may contribute to higher dropout rates.
This divide extends into tertiary education. Germany offers publicly subsidized university education but tolerates high attrition rates, whereas in Australia, where higher education is significantly more privatized, many of my academic colleagues say, “Once you’re in, you’re through.” While some see the high university completion rates as a testament to strong teaching, others worry they indicate grade inflation and a decline in academic rigor. Regardless, the for-profit model of Australian universities undeniably creates incentives to maximize student retention and completion. This is reflected in the high numbers of university graduates in Australia, where 33% of people [ [link removed] ] ages 15 to 74 have attained a bachelor’s degree or higher, compared with 20% in Germany [ [link removed] ], which is closer to the global average. University entry standards in Australia have also broadened, with critics questioning whether student success is prioritized over maintaining rigorous academic benchmarks.
A similar debate is unfolding in the U.S., where concerns about maintaining academic standards are being weighed against efforts to improve student success rates—particularly in relation to the role of social and emotional learning (SEL) programs. SEL has become a major yet controversial aspect of education, with critics arguing that it prioritizes therapeutic interventions over traditional academic rigor. Abigail Shrier warns that SEL may act as “Bad Therapy,” [ [link removed] ] fostering dependency rather than resilience. Others contend that the increasing emphasis on emotional learning has blurred the boundaries [ [link removed] ] between education and therapy. A recent meta-analysis, however, suggests that well-implemented SEL programs can enhance both academic and social outcomes [ [link removed] ]. The key challenge remains ensuring that such programs do not overshadow essential academic instruction or inadvertently reduce expectations for student achievement.
What Is Education For?
While prioritizing well-being in education has become popular and offers clear benefits, placing it ahead of academic excellence may carry unintended consequences—and it remains to be seen whether this approach leads to better long-term outcomes in life and work. If taken too far it could dilute academic excellence and fail to prepare students for competitive global markets. Conversely, an educational system that prioritizes high standards may maintain quality over time, but a lack of emotional support can leave some students feeling alienated or unsupported, possibly driving kids out of education earlier.
Prioritizing emotional development and well-being alongside academic outcomes is a positive shift. In the past, these aspects were often overlooked in education systems, to the detriment of students’ overall development. But when taken to extremes, emphasizing either priority too much could crowd out the other. Which raises the question—if the balance between these two priorities were off, how would we know?
Comparing different countries’ approaches to education offers an intriguing way to explore the deeper philosophical question: What is education for? Is its primary purpose to equip the next generation with the skills and knowledge needed for the workforce, or is it to nurture well-rounded, emotionally healthy and socially engaged citizens?
In many countries, the expectations placed on schools seem to have expanded significantly in recent decades, possibly reflecting broader societal shifts. Could it be that in some societies, schools are increasingly filling roles once occupied by the family and the church—teaching values, providing mental health support and fostering emotional resilience? In other societies, where family structures and traditional institutions may remain more intact, do schools feel less pressure to expand their scope beyond academic instruction, allowing them to maintain a sharper focus on performance and rigor? Exploring these questions could offer valuable insights into the evolving role of education in Germany, Australia, the U.S. and around the world.

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