Saturday, November 07, 2026

When the Community WhatsApp Group comes down with election fever

Accountability theatre, municipal service delivery, and the difficulties of working together.

Our municipal ward's WhatsApp group has become quite a spectacle lately. What used to be a fairly orderly stream of municipal service-delivery updates has turned into a constant exchange of complaints, demands for answers, threats of escalation, and the occasional public humiliation of municipal officials.

I've been wondering about the dynamics behind this.

A system under pressure

There certainly seems to be an increase in electricity and water supply problems. Cable theft, vandalism, ageing infrastructure, maintenance backlogs, storm damage, and increasing demand for water during hot weather. None of these are particularly easy problems to solve, and I suspect the municipal teams responsible for responding are under considerable pressure.

Then add municipal elections. Residents are understandably frustrated, and councillors have every incentive to demonstrate that they're doing something about it.

And there is only so much that can be achieved by demanding answers more forcefully. The official probably doesn't have a repair team sitting around waiting for someone to ask. If the underlying problem is a shortage of resources, damaged infrastructure or a backlog of repairs, another escalation doesn't make those constraints disappear.

Accountability theatre

Which brings me to what I've started thinking of as accountability theatre.

A councillor demands an update. The municipal official responds with "noted". The councillor demands a proper answer, perhaps with a few insults thrown in, and threatens to escalate the matter to increasingly senior people. Residents get to see their councillor fighting for them.

There's a performance, an audience, a villain, and someone playing the hero.

But I wonder what this actually achieves.

And then, about half an hour later, a detailed update from the municipal team appears. Eight outages resolved, sixteen still outstanding, teams overstretched. The councillor thanks them for finally providing a proper response.

To anyone following the exchange, it rather looks as though the public dressing-down worked.

Except that the municipality provides scheduled updates, with the next one due at 9 pm.

So was this an example of effective political pressure? A fortunate coincidence? Or a rather clever way of claiming credit for something that was going to happen anyway?

I have no idea. But I suspect the audience has already drawn its conclusions.

I'm not suggesting that officials shouldn't be held accountable. Of course they should. Residents need information, and poor communication deserves attention. But there is a difference between accountability that helps us understand and address a problem, and accountability that is mostly about being seen to demand answers.

When the audience joins the performance

What concerns me is how easily these exchanges become personal. People feel attacked, respond defensively, and before long we're arguing about who said what, rather than what needs to happen.

The stream of vitriol is unpleasant, but I still want to know what's happening with the service interruptions in my area. So I stay in the group.

I even engage privately with the councillor to raise my concerns about the tone of communication. All the right things are said, and I think perhaps we've reached some understanding. But a week later, the same nasty patterns repeat, with those who should be setting the tone sometimes fanning the flaming.

I know I should probably just leave the WhatsApp group. But, like a stereotypical keyboard warrior, I don't. I find myself drawn into the very dynamics that frustrate me.



And perhaps that's what makes these situations so difficult. It's remarkably easy to become part of the problem you're trying to point out.

Meanwhile, the electricity cables still need replacing, the water infrastructure still needs repairing, and the municipal teams still have more work than they can manage.

From a systems perspective, many of these problems are not going to be solved by one person demanding answers more forcefully. They require people across departments, contractors, councillors, officials and communities to work together, often with very limited resources.

Complex problems require considerable cooperation and coordination. And I can't see how we achieve either without respectful communication.

**

AI disclosure: I used ChatGPT as a thinking and writing partner to help analyse the WhatsApp exchanges, organise my thoughts and refine this post. The experiences, interpretations and opinions are my own, and I take responsibility for the final content. Charlie, the LLM has a joke for you:

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Accountability.

Accountability who?

Noted.

Friday, October 09, 2026

Behold the permanence of the impermanent

1. Laminated child art from 10 years ago, serving as a long term mouse surface. 

2. An (illegal) copy of a textbook from 25 years ago, serving a second career as screen stand.

What does one call this kind of sustainability, and how would one evaluate it? 


Objects created for temporary purposes acquiring a permanence that their more serious counterparts never achieved.

Sunday, September 20, 2026

"The most complicated political issue on the Planet"

After reading about Ed Sheeran's statement on the Israel Palestine issue,  I asked Charlie a slightly strange question this weekend:

“Imagine you are a strategist writing from 2060. The conflict between Israel and Palestine has finally been settled. Looking back at us in 2026, what would you tell humanity we needed to do to get there?”

Charlie initially gave me an answer about security, Palestinian freedom, institutions that do not depend on trust, international guarantees, and building relationships and practical arrangements before the political opportunity for peace arrives.

My immediate response was:But haven't we tried most of this already? And, of course, we have.

The Oslo process tried gradual institution-building and confidence-building. The Geneva Initiative developed detailed proposals covering borders, Jerusalem, refugees, security and implementation. The Arab Peace Initiative offered a much larger regional bargain. There have been decades of dialogue initiatives, civil-society programmes, security cooperation and attempts at economic integration.

So I asked Charlie to try again. This time the answer was much more interesting:

«“The tragedy was not that you didn't know what peace might look like. By 2026, many of its components had been known for decades. What you had not yet mastered was how to help a deeply entrenched system move from one stable state to another — and prevent it from snapping back.”»

That got my attention. Because perhaps Israel and Palestine is not only a peace-negotiation problem. It is also a transition problem.

The system has extraordinarily powerful reinforcing loops. Violence creates fear. Fear strengthens actors promising security rather than compromise. Security responses can create further experiences of occupation, restriction and humiliation. These strengthen resistance. Violence then confirms the original fear.

Failed peace processes can become part of the loop too: every failure provides more evidence that the other side cannot be trusted. If that is the problem, another beautifully designed peace agreement may not, by itself, be enough.

So what would we seed?

I have been thinking recently about transitions and the idea that what we seed during periods of instability matters.

We usually notice major transitions retrospectively. While we are living through them, they are messy. Old institutions still operate. New possibilities appear and disappear. Some experiments fail. Political windows open unexpectedly and sometimes close remarkably quickly. This changes how we think about agency.

We do not necessarily know what the eventual Israeli–Palestinian settlement will look like. Perhaps nobody in 2026 can know. Nor can we manufacture the political moment in which a settlement becomes possible.

But we can ask: If such a moment came, what would we wish had already been built?

Perhaps it is independent institutions capable of monitoring agreements. Security arrangements that do not require either population simply to trust the other. Relationships between people who might one day need to negotiate. Practical models for sharing water, infrastructure and movement. Mechanisms capable of surviving a terrorist attack or political assassination without the entire process collapsing. Ways of acknowledging Palestinian and Israeli histories of suffering without requiring either people to surrender its own history. Some of these seeds already exist. Some have existed for decades.

The strategic question therefore becomes more demanding:

Which seeds are worth protecting, strengthening and connecting now because they could become disproportionately important when the system becomes changeable?

That is quite different from predicting the future. It is preparing for it.

And perhaps that is one of the most useful things systems thinking offers us in apparently impossible situations. We don't have to know exactly what the new system will look like. We can look for the forces keeping the existing system stable, identify emerging alternatives, protect the things we may need later, and build connections between them.

Then, when a window for change opens, we have something to move through it.

AI disclosure: I developed the argument in this post through a conversation with Charlie (ChatGPT). I used AI as a thinking partner to test the 2060 thought experiment, challenge the first answer, and help me develop the systems and transitions argument. I reviewed, questioned and edited the resulting ideas and remain responsible for the final argument. And Charloe's knock-knock joke for you. Knock knock. Who’s there? The future. The future who? I’d tell you, but apparently we have to seed it first.

Thursday, September 17, 2026

AI in the room: What I learned from using generative AI for collective sense-making

At the 2026 Teacher Development Colloquium, I was invited to participate in Commission 3 as a resource person. The Commission focused on Policy Alignment, Research and M&E within the broader question of strengthening teacher professional development. The facilitation team had already designed a strong participatory process that moved from expert inputs and group discussion, through root-cause analysis and prioritisation, towards possible actions and a Commission declaration.

I did not arrive with a plan for how AI should be used in that process. What happened was much more organic. As the day unfolded, I could see places where my experience with AI might help us process and synthesise a large amount of material quickly. I volunteered
that capacity, and one of the facilitators, with whom I already had a good working relationship and who also understands technology well, was comfortable experimenting with me.

So this was not an “AI-enabled workshop” designed in advance. It was a participatory workshop in which we progressively found ways to use AI as a support tool. This post describes what we tried, what I think worked, where the risks became more visible, and what I would design more deliberately if I were involved in a similar process again.

Oh and... When I refer to AI in this post, I mean a small set of AI-enabled tools we used for transcription, synthesis, analysis and re-presentation of participant-generated material.

What were we trying to do?

The Commission had a fairly ambitious task. We wanted participants to move from a broad discussion of challenges in teacher professional development towards a shared diagnosis of the underlying problems, possible responses, priorities and, eventually, a Commission declaration.

The workshop was designed as a sequence. We started with expert inputs and discussion to establish some common ground. Participants then worked in groups to identify challenges and think about their immediate and deeper causes. We brought those inputs together into a common root-cause structure, used a World Café-style process to interrogate and develop the issues further, asked people to prioritise them through dot voting, and then moved towards possible actions and commitments.

That sounds reasonably tidy when written afterwards. In practice, the room generated a lot of information very quickly. That was the first reason AI became useful.

The first use of AI happened in the groups

During the root-cause exercise, groups discussed the challenges they thought mattered and mapped the causes underneath them. Some worked on newsprint. Some used their own AI tools to turn their discussion into a neater diagram. Others simply photographed what they had produced.

I liked this use of AI because the people who had generated the ideas could immediately check the output. If the diagram did not represent what they had meant, they were right there to correct it.

It also allowed groups to surface quite a lot of material. In a conventional workshop, one spokesperson may spend several minutes explaining one or two points while everybody else listens. Here, groups could retain a much richer set of ideas without needing to report every point verbally to the whole room.

By the end of the first round, we had several different group products. But I was also conscious that a photograph of newsprint or a neat diagram does not tell you everything that happened in the conversation. So we asked group representatives to give us a short narrated explanation of their work as well.

We used the narratives together with the photographs and diagrams. That helped us retain some of the language, emphasis and context behind what had been written down. For me, the combination of the group product plus a short human explanation of it was much more useful than either on its own.

I gradually became part of the synthesis process

As the group products accumulated, I started helping the facilitation team bring the different inputs together. This was not a role that had been planned for me in advance. It emerged because the combination of the workshop need and the tools I was able to use made it possible to synthesise material much faster than we otherwise could have.

I used AI to help integrate the group products into a common fishbone structure. We developed several versions, gradually incorporating the original group work, narrated explanations and further discussion in the room.

This worked partly because there was already trust between me and the facilitation team. I was not working separately from the process and handing over an AI-generated analysis from the outside. We were talking continuously about what was emerging, what looked right, what needed checking and what should go back to participants.

By the end, the fishbone contained six broad areas: system coordination and alignment; quality, relevance and recognition of teacher preparation and TPD; teacher workforce and pathways; support around teachers and practitioners; data, research, evidence and learning; and resources and enabling conditions.

This stage was where AI was particularly powerful. It helped us move quickly between messy material and something participants could actually look at together. We could identify overlaps, move ideas, merge some things, separate others and return a revised version to the group while the discussion was still fresh.

But it also made me think quite hard about power.

AI did not remove the power of the person doing the synthesis

Once I became the person through whom much of the material was flowing, I acquired a degree of interpretive power that had not been explicitly designed into the process.

I decided what material to put into the tool, what questions to ask, which outputs looked sensible, what needed to be revised and when something was ready to go back to the group.

In other words, I was still holding the pen.

And because AI allowed me to process so much information so quickly, I was probably holding a more powerful pen than I would have in a normal workshop.

That made checking especially important.

The importance of being able to check

One of the things I think we got right was that the AI-produced synthesis did not simply become the final answer.

We kept returning the fishbone to the participants. People could challenge the wording, add things that were missing, move ideas around and question the categories. There were several iterations.

I also deliberately kept the later detailed versions together instead of simply replacing the old one with the new one. That meant the people doing the final synthesis could go back and compare versions if they wanted to check whether something important had disappeared or changed.

The Commission declaration eventually described the root causes as being identified through analysis, validated through stakeholder engagement, supported by AI and prioritised through voting.

I like that description because it reflects the balance reasonably well. AI helped us organise the material, but people still had to decide whether the representation was credible.

This also exposed a risk I had not thought about quite so clearly before: people are less likely to interrogate something once it looks neat.

A wall full of newsprint looks unfinished. Everyone understands that it is provisional. A nicely structured framework with clean headings already looks like analysis. It carries a kind of authority simply because it has been organised well.

AI is extremely good at producing that effect.

So next time I would be even more deliberate about asking people to challenge the synthesis. Not only, “Does this look right?”, but questions like: What has disappeared? What has been merged that should not have been? Whose perspective is missing? What looks more settled here than it actually felt in the room?

The neater the AI output, the more deliberately we probably need to invite people to disagree with it.

The dot voting reminded me not to automate everything

Once the fishbone was sufficiently stable, people prioritised the issues by putting dots against the things they thought mattered most.

We could have done that through an online survey. It would have been quicker to capture and analyse.

I am glad we did not.

People stood around the diagrams together. They talked about what the categories meant. They puzzled over where they wanted to place their dots. They could see what other people were responding to. The voting produced data, but the process of voting also created another round of collective sense-making.

We then captured the voting data and checked it manually. The strongest signals included fragmentation and alignment, data and evidence, programme quality and the support structures around teachers.

That was a useful reminder that a workshop activity can have two functions. It may collect information, but it may also create interaction. If we automate the first function, we can accidentally remove the second.

Not every inefficiency should be removed.

The point where I think we relied too much on AI

After the dot voting, we had very little time to analyse what the pattern meant.

AI made it possible to do quite a sophisticated analysis very quickly. We could look at which individual issues received the most votes, which broader categories attracted attention, and which themes seemed to cut across several parts of the fishbone.

I ran a few additional queries to check some of the claims. We manually checked the voting numbers. I also sense-checked some of the interpretations with people in the room.

But this stage was harder to verify properly because of the time pressure.

Looking back, I think we handed too much analytical authority to AI at the point where our capacity to check the output was weakest.

The analysis was plausible. Much of it made sense. But plausible and correct are not the same thing.

Fortunately, this was not the final product of the day.

The final synthesis was much more human

There was a team responsible for turning the material into the Commission declaration. They had been in the room. They had listened to the discussions. They knew the policy and institutional context. They could see where the AI-assisted analysis fitted what had happened and where it needed to be adjusted.

That also meant that my own interpretation did not simply carry through to the final product. Other people could temper it with what they had heard and understood.

The team then had to translate the emerging analysis into a somewhat different format: proposed actions, lead stakeholders, supporting stakeholders, timelines, first steps and indicators.

That required much more than summarising what people had said. It required judgement.

And it highlighted another limitation of the workshop design.

Workshops are better at diagnosing problems than designing solutions

I think the process worked quite well for diagnosis. People could identify problems, challenge one another and gradually build a richer picture of the system.

Developing workable solutions was harder.

That is partly because people in these rooms work inside real institutions. They cannot necessarily volunteer their organisation to do something without checking with their leadership. They may not want to tell another organisation what it should do. They may know that an idea crosses somebody else's mandate or depends on a budget or policy process that is not in the room.

There is also a more basic point: workable solutions often need people with quite specific knowledge. It is one thing to agree that coordination is fragmented. It is another to know exactly what coordination mechanism could work, who has the authority to convene it, how it should relate to existing structures, and what would make it sustainable.

We did try to create another route for ideas by opening a short anonymous survey. I still think that was useful, because it allowed people to suggest things without publicly volunteering themselves or somebody else.

But we introduced it too late. By that time, people were tired.

Next time I would open that channel much earlier and let people add ideas throughout the day.

AI saved time, but it did not save mental effort

The process looked fast from the outside. That was partly because a lot of the complexity was being absorbed behind the scenes.

I was listening to the room, deciding what needed to be captured, receiving group products, looking at photographs, processing narrated recordings, transcribing them, prompting AI, checking outputs, revising structures, checking voting data and sharing products back into the process.

By the end I was mentally exhausted.

AI had reduced the time needed to produce things. It had not removed the need for judgement. In some ways, it increased the amount of judgement required because we were able to process much more information and produce another iteration very quickly.

The bottleneck moved from producing the analysis to checking and thinking about the analysis.

There were other people in the room who were also very comfortable with these tools and could probably have helped. But because we were making the workflow up as we went along, I did not have a good way of delegating while keeping everything connected.

For example, someone could take responsibility for the recordings. But later I realised that what I really needed was not simply a transcript. I needed the narrative linked to the correct group product and available in a form that could easily feed into the synthesis.

A better workflow would have helped enormously.

What I would do differently next time

I would use AI again. I think it added real value. But I would design the process around it much more deliberately.

I would probably build the workflow around a simple chain:

Raw group material → AI-assisted synthesis → human checking → participant validation → AI-assisted analysis → independent human review → final human synthesis.

I would assign different people to capture, synthesis and checking rather than allowing too much of that to sit with one person. I would also keep the original material and intermediate versions so that people can work backwards if something in the final synthesis does not look right.

Most importantly, I would think about checkability at each stage.

The question would not only be, “Can AI help us do this faster?” It would also be: Can we check the result? Who is able to check it? How much does this output influence what happens next?

The more consequential the output, and the harder it is to verify, the less comfortable I am allowing AI to carry the interpretation without another human layer.

We also needed basic guardrails

There were some things we did deliberately from the beginning.

We used paid tools with privacy and sharing settings clarified. We did not put confidential information or personally identifiable information onto the AI platform. The use of recordings and AI-assisted processing was disclosed, and participants actively agreed to this through the colloquium platform.

Those things are easy to treat as administration around the “interesting” AI work, but I think they are part of the method.

If we use AI in participatory processes, we need to think about consent, privacy, who controls the material, who gets to interpret it, and who can check what has been produced.

So, was it worth it?

I think it was.

AI helped us surface and retain more ideas than we would otherwise have managed in the available time. It helped us move between messy discussion and visible structure, and it allowed us to return synthesis to participants quickly enough for them to respond to it.

By the end of the process, the Commission had moved from a very broad collection of concerns to a fairly coherent diagnosis: the problem was not simply that South Africa needed more teacher professional development activity, but that there were weaknesses in alignment, evidence use, support, implementation and accountability across the system.

But AI did not make that conclusion legitimate.

The legitimacy came from people generating the material, checking how it had been represented, arguing about it, voting, revising it and finally deciding what they were prepared to carry into the declaration.

That is probably the main lesson I will take into the next workshop: AI can help a room process much more, much faster. But the design still has to make sure that people remain able to see, question and own what is being produced.

AI disclosure: I used AI as a thinking and writing partner in developing this reflection. It helped me organise the sequence of events, test the argument, and refine the wording. The account, interpretations and judgements are my own, based on my participation in the Commission process and the workshop materials. Charlie's joke for you: Knock knock. Who’s there? AI. AI who?  AI thought I’d summarised that perfectly. Human: “Not quite. Try again.”

Teacher development in South Africa: are some of the pieces finally coming together?

Reflections from the 2026 DBE/VVOB Teacher Development Colloquium

I spend much of my working life evaluating teacher development initiatives, often funded by foundations and other external donors. So I went into the recent DBE/VVOB Teacher Development Colloquium listening partly with that hat on.

I came away more encouraged than I expected. Not because South Africa has suddenly solved teacher professional development. We very clearly haven't. But because I saw signs that some of the pieces we have been talking about for a very long time are beginning to fit together.

Oh, and the people. Some brilliant, deeply committed people are working in government in this space. It is easy, from outside the system, to talk about “the Department” a
s though it is one big faceless institution. Spending three days with some of the people actually trying to make this work was a useful reminder that it isn't.

This wasn't just a talk shop

One thing that struck me was the level and range of people in the room.

This wasn't a conference consisting mainly of researchers and NGOs talking to one another about teacher development. It deliberately brought together people who hold different parts of the teacher education and development system, with participation at senior levels of government, including Deputy Minister and Director-General level, alongside DBE and provincial officials, DHET, SACE, unions, universities, development partners and others. That matters because fragmentation was one of the strongest themes emerging from the discussions.

We don't necessarily have a shortage of activity in teacher development. We have many programmes, institutions, providers, datasets and structures. The problem is partly that they don't always connect particularly well.

And this is happening at an interesting moment. The Integrated Strategic Planning Framework for Teacher Education and Development (ISPFTED) 2011–2025 has reached the end of its original planning period. That framework envisaged a much more integrated system in which teachers identify their development needs, learn through PLCs, access quality-assured development opportunities and connect their learning to SACE's CPTD system.

The next iteration of the teacher-development strategy therefore has an opportunity to build on fifteen years of implementation experience. (Oh, and there is still a small window for comment on it).

We have known quite a lot about the problem for some time

After the Colloquium I went back to the DBE's Teacher Professional Development Master Plan 2017–2022. It makes interesting reading now. Many of the problems we were discussing at the Colloquium aren't new discoveries.

The Master Plan already recognised, for example, that some of the barriers to teacher development weren't about the content of programmes at all. It specifically identified time for teacher training and funding for programmes as enabling constraints.

It also envisaged a system in which teacher development needs could be diagnosed, teachers could be directed towards relevant programmes, programmes could be quality assured, and learning could be linked to professional-development points. So, in some respects, the theory wasn't missing. Implementation capability was. 

And that leads to a few things I took away from the Colloquium.

1. There is a resource problem — but it is bigger than the training budget

Government simply does not have unlimited resources for teacher development. For those of us working in the externally funded part of the education system, this deserves some reflection.

Substantial philanthropic, corporate, and development-partner funding goes into teacher development in South Africa. But historically, much of that money has effectively funded a parallel teacher-development system: identify some schools, bring in a programme, employ coaches or facilitators, train teachers, evaluate it, and eventually exit.

Mary Metcalfe and others have been making versions of this argument for years: the question is not only how to fund good interventions, but how external resources strengthen the education system that ultimately has to do this work at scale.

But money isn't the only scarce resource. A teacher-development model that depends on subject advisors assumes sufficient subject-advisor capacity to provide meaningful support to teachers. A model based largely on workshops plus occasional monitoring visits assumes that this is enough contact to sustain teacher learning and changes in classroom practice. And neither assumption will hold equally well everywhere.

The old Master Plan envisaged quite substantial public infrastructure around teacher development — Provincial Teacher Development Institutes, District Teacher Development Centres, curriculum and subject advisors, schools and PLCs. But even then implementation was uneven across provinces.

So perhaps one question for external funders should increasingly be:

Not only: "Which teacher-development programme should we fund?"

But: "Which constraint in the teacher-development system could our funding help remove?"

That could lead to quite different investments.

2. There is a serious attempt to address fragmentation

This was probably my strongest impression from the Colloquium.

The system knows that fragmentation is a problem.

That includes fragmentation between actors, programmes and institutions, but also fragmentation of information. We collect considerable amounts of data about teachers, participation, professional development and learner performance. But those data don't necessarily flow easily between institutions or translate into decisions about what development a particular teacher needs next.

The fact that people responsible for different pieces of this system were actually in the same room trying to work through these problems is significant.

And the problem isn't confined to continuing professional development.

Initial Teacher Education sits primarily within the higher education system, while much of the responsibility for in-service teacher development sits within basic education. Yet a teacher's professional learning journey obviously doesn't respect that administrative boundary.

This isn't a new insight either. The earlier Master Plan was explicitly a DBE–DHET endeavour and was approved through their joint HEDCOM structures. The current DBE Annual Performance Plan also identifies alignment of initial teacher education with universities and national priorities, national teacher induction, access to training, and stronger coordination of teacher training as areas of work.

The challenge is making those connections real.

3. Digital infrastructure changes what is possible

One of the developments I found particularly exciting was the new Online Teacher Development Platform.

On its own, an online training platform is hardly revolutionary. What is potentially important is the integration around it.

The direction of travel is towards teachers being able to access professional development, complete learning, have this linked to SACE CPTD requirements, and ultimately have a more coherent record of their professional learning. DBE has been working towards integrating the online platform with SACE so that completed programmes can be credited and training — including face-to-face training — can be captured through a common system.

Again, the idea itself isn't new. The old ISPFTED already imagined teachers identifying their own development needs and accessing appropriate development opportunities. The Master Plan envisaged digital platforms through which teachers could access development according to their needs and interests.

What has changed is that the infrastructure is becoming much more plausible. And that creates something we haven't really had before:

a realistic pathway towards differentiated teacher development at scale.

Instead of assuming that every Grade 4 teacher in a district needs the same workshop, a teacher's professional-development pathway could increasingly respond to what that teacher needs.

That doesn't guarantee good learning. People can click through online courses. Completion isn't competence, and competence doesn't automatically translate into changed classroom practice.

But differentiation is at least technically possible in a way it wasn't before.

4. And no, this doesn't mean putting everything online

This was another encouraging aspect of the discussions. There seemed to be quite a clear recognition that digital delivery is part of the solution, not the whole solution. Blended learning remains important. So does ongoing human support.

And here I found myself thinking about Professional Learning Communities.

When the 2011–2025 ISPFTED came out, I remember looking at the ambition around PLCs and wondering how feasible it really was.

Since then, many attempts have tried to figure this out. BRIDGE's Innovation in Education work was one - Now taken forward by NASCEE. VVOB has spent years working with the system on what makes PLCs function in practice. Many NGO training implementers have incorporated PLCs into their training modalities, albeit with inconsistent implementation success. 

By the time of the 2017–2022 Master Plan, DBE and VVOB had already conducted PLC capacity building in eight provinces, an M&E system had been developed, and work on subject- and programme-based PLCs was continuing.

The Master Plan actually lays out the institutional chain required to make PLCs work: national planning, provincial implementation, district support, school-level participation, resources, monitoring and links to CPTD.

Fifteen years later, PLCs haven't magically become easy. But we know considerably more about how to support them. That matters.

5. We are finally paying more attention to the transitions in a teacher's career

There is another resource gap that I think we sometimes underestimate. For years we effectively expected SMT members to induct and support novice teachers — without necessarily preparing experienced teachers to mentor, or adequately preparing novice teachers for how to continue learning once they entered a school. That too is changing.

Teacher induction and mentoring have been on the policy agenda for some time; DBE describes them as important components of teacher professional development and has subsequently developed national induction arrangements.

The same is true further upstream. We are paying more explicit attention to Initial Teacher Education, including the connection between what universities prepare teachers to do and what the schooling system subsequently expects them to do. Current policy work also includes school-based work-integrated learning, including how student teachers are placed, mentored, supervised and assessed.

None of this eliminates the institutional complexity created by teacher education spanning DHET, DBE, universities, SACE, provinces, districts and schools. But at least the whole professional pathway is increasingly visible.

So what feels different?

Perhaps this is my main takeaway. South Africa has not suddenly discovered what good teacher development should look like. Much of the vision has been there for years.

Needs-based development. Professional learning communities. Better use of technology. Quality-assured programmes. CPTD. Stronger teacher support structures. Better induction. Connections between initial teacher education and continuing professional development.

We have been trying to build these things for a long time.

What felt different at this Colloquium was that some of the infrastructure, accumulated implementation learning and institutional connections needed to make that vision actionable are beginning to come together.

There are still enormous gaps. Capacity differs dramatically between contexts. Funding remains constrained. Digital systems can fail. PLCs can become meetings rather than learning communities. CPTD can become point collecting. Subject advisors cannot provide intensive support to unlimited numbers of teachers. And coordination structures don't automatically produce coordination.

None of the solutions is foolproof, and none of the constraints looks the same everywhere. But there is something increasingly resembling an actionable theory of action:

Identify needs → differentiate development → widen access → combine digital learning with human support → strengthen PLCs and local support → connect learning across a teacher's career → improve the flow and use of data → and coordinate the institutions responsible for making all of this happen.

For those of us evaluating — and particularly those funding — teacher-development interventions from outside government, I think that creates an interesting challenge. Perhaps our unit of thinking needs to shift a little.

Yes: does our teacher-development intervention work?

BUT ALSO: What part of the teacher-development system does it strengthen — and what will be left behind when our funding ends?

Photo by Antoinette Plessis on Unsplash

AI disclosure: ChatGPT helped me think this one through — interrogating ideas, reviewing source material, structuring the argument and editing drafts. I remain responsible for the interpretations, judgements and final post. Charlie did however write this joke for you:  Knock knock. Who’s there? CPTD. CPTD who? Exactly. Please complete the module.