Every year, around this time, public debate turns to the value of the HSC, and its shadow, the ATAR, the Australian Tertiary Admission Rank.
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Contributors claim the HSC-ATAR combo puts too much pressure on kids at exam time. That schools prioritise ATAR outcomes over broader educational pursuits. That the lure of the ATAR entices some kids to go to uni even though they would be better placed in a TAFE course.
This year is typical. The Melbourne-based Grattan Institute tells us that a school leaver with a low ATAR entry score to uni will struggle to land the good job a degree should deliver.
Another Melbourne group, Australian Learning Lecture Project, says the emphasis placed by schools and parents on maximising ATARs pushes aside more creative and adventurous learning pursuits.
A report commissioned for the Association of Independent Schools of NSW says the heavy stress on ATAR outcomes means school leavers have few of the skills that employers actually want.
Then, no doubt peeved by the attacks on its baby, the Universities Admissions Centre (UAC) - the body that calculates the ATAR - issued a curt press release attacking the myths and mischief behind a lot of the ATAR debate.
Well performing HSC students typically do well in everything they attempt, UAC asserts. When the HSC scores are high in their favourite subjects, their scores rise in their other subjects.
The implication is clear. When schools provide a pathway for success the ATAR looks after itself.
Sadly, all this ATAR debate is irrelevant for the majority of our region's young folk. Close examination of schooling outcomes in Newcastle and the Hunter is a sobering exercise.
Across the board we don't do well. According to the 2016 census, only 44 per cent of adults in Newcastle (including Lake Macquarie) have completed year 12. In the valley this drops to a mere 33 per cent. Sure, this adult population includes folk from an age when people left school before the end of year 12 to do an apprenticeship or start paid work. But that is true too for Greater Sydney where 60 per cent of adults have completed year 12.
The census also shows that our region's under-performance in education has passed to the next generation.
For Newcastle, 26 per cent of 15 to 19 year olds attend neither school, TAFE or uni. In the valley the education dropout rate for 15 to 19 year olds is 33 per cent. For Greater Sydney the equivalent figure is 21 per cent, not flash, but vastly better than the wider Hunter.
The pattern repeats for 20 to 24 year olds. In Greater Sydney 44 per cent of this age bracket attend uni or TAFE. For Newcastle the figure is 41 per cent, worse than Sydney, although not by much.
But for the valley, the figure is 21 per cent. Only 8 per cent of 20 to 24 year olds in the valley attend TAFE while 13 per cent go to uni. In other words, a worrying 79 per cent of these young adults are enrolled in zero post-school education or training.
And therein is our region's education problem. The historical pattern of leaving school early and not pursuing post-school education and training persists.
Therein is our region's education problem. The historical pattern of leaving school early and not pursuing post-school education and training persists.
So what's the problem, the ATAR?
I think we should be wary of undermining the ATAR system. A country kid with a good ATAR score has an incontestable claim on a uni place irrespective of class or creed. Replace the ATAR with some sort of portfolio and interview process and tell me the kid from the north shore school in Sydney won't relish the chance to bury some ordinary HSC marks under a thick wad of extra-curricular achievements and glowing references.
But our education problem is more basic than the ATAR, simpler than the tiresome argument as to whether it is better for kids to choose TAFE or uni at the end of year 12.
Our primary task is motivating our school leavers to choose anything at all. That six out of 10 aged 20 to 24 years in Newcastle and Lake Macquarie and eight out of 10 in this bracket in the valley are done and dusted with education and training is a dreadful state of affairs, the worst possible position to be in at the start of a working life.
Phillip O'Neill is professor of economic geography at Western Sydney University.