It was during a history GCSE exam just over 18 months ago at my previous school that I was called to the main hall. One of our most able Year 11 students, who was predicted straight 9s, was having a panic attack in the foyer.
Ten minutes, a cup of tea and some calm conversation later, she went in, got through it and performed well. But when she came out, she still looked utterly drained, and there were two full weeks of exams left.
She wasn’t being dramatic. She’d been revising since Christmas, juggling 10 subjects, lunchtime clinics, Easter classes and an endless stream of practice papers.
Her reaction captured something I’d been hearing from students for years, that GCSEs had become an endurance test rather than an education.
Seeing the pattern
That experience forced me to stop and reflect.
The signs were there: high-performing students losing confidence, middle achievers running out of energy, teachers feeling that creative teaching time had vanished. We had built a system where success meant more: more content, more assessments, more evenings of revision.
So, with my senior team and governors, I began to ask a simple question: what are we gaining from 10, 11 or 12 GCSEs that couldn’t be achieved with nine? The honest answer was “very little”, apart from exhaustion.
Taking soundings before change
Before making any decision, we met informally with admissions officers from Oxford, Cambridge, Warwick and Durham to understand how GCSE portfolios are viewed in top-tier university applications.
Their advice was consistent in that universities look primarily at the average grade and the depth of engagement, not the sheer number of entries.
No candidate would be disadvantaged by sitting nine subjects, provided they performed strongly and showed intellectual curiosity beyond the classroom.
That reassurance gave us confidence to proceed. We wanted students to demonstrate excellence, not endurance.
Capping GCSE entries at nine
We decided to cap entries at nine. It wasn’t an easy sell. Some parents worried we were lowering ambition, and a few students feared they’d appear less competitive. We held open meetings, shared the guidance we’d received from universities and explained how a more balanced approach would support both wellbeing and achievement.
Then, only months after the change took effect, OCR’s Striking the Balance (2024) report appeared, completely validating the direction we’d taken.
The exam board confirmed that students in England sit an average of 31.5 hours of GCSE exams, the highest of any comparable country. It warned that “it is possible to have too much of a good thing” and urged schools to reduce assessment load to protect learning quality and mental health.
More wasn’t meaning broader; it meant thinner. Every additional subject added weeks of teaching, hours of homework and another block of exams. In trying to do everything, students risked doing nothing deeply.
Reaction to the limit
The first cohort under the new structure felt the difference immediately. There was time again for the school play, for sport, for co-curricular projects. Lessons stopped feeling like a race to the end of a syllabus.
Students still achieved excellent grades, but they also rediscovered some joy in learning. Parents who were initially uncertain became our strongest advocates once they saw calmer, happier children achieving just as well.
Teachers, too, felt the benefit. With fewer subjects to squeeze in, they could teach with greater depth and creativity. Conversations about learning replaced countdowns to exams.
Continuing the philosophy
When I arrived at Merchant Taylors’ in Crosby this year, I was delighted to find the same philosophy already in place. Students here also take nine GCSEs, English language and literature, mathematics, the three sciences, and then open options across humanities, languages, and creative and technical subjects.
The results speak for themselves: 86 per cent achieved grades 5 and above in both English and mathematics, and 47 per cent of all grades were 7-9. More importantly, our Year 11 students finish the year ready for sixth form, not burned out by it.
Redefining ambition
There’s a temptation in schools to equate the number of GCSEs offered with the strength of a curriculum.
The logic runs that if students can take 11 or 12 subjects, the curriculum must be broad. In reality, it often produces the opposite, with students spread too thinly to explore anything in depth, staff under pressure to teach to coverage and precious little room for curiosity.
True breadth lies not in volume but in variety, in giving students time to master ideas, pursue interests and develop character. Nine carefully chosen subjects achieve that balance far better than 12 rushed ones ever could.
Limiting GCSEs isn’t about lowering expectations, it’s about protecting the quality of learning. Excellence and wellbeing aren’t opposing forces; they depend on each other.
If even the exam boards are urging schools to strike a balance, perhaps the bravest thing we can do for our students is to give them a little less, and in doing so, allow them to achieve so much more.
Philip Dearden is headmaster at Merchant Taylors’ School in Crosby, Liverpool
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