Skeptic OR Cynic?

To Be or Not To Be Skeptical or Cynical?

I’m a sucker for some evidence. You give me some meta-analysis and a margarita, I’m a happy educator. As a school leadership coach, it’s my job to make sure I’m following evidence, aligning myself with current research, and trying to follow the science. The challenge, however, is that education can feel like the most “research-filled” field out there. At one point phonics was out of favor. Now teachers are expected to teach phonics with precision and fidelity. It reminds me of the nutrition world. Eggs were once the villain. Now they are back at the top of the list.

So as I continue to work in this space, I find myself asking a simple but important question. Should I be cynical of educational research, or should I be skeptical?

That distinction matters more than we might think.

Cynicism is seductive. It allows us to dismiss the next initiative before it ever reaches our classrooms. It sounds experienced. It feels protective. It says, “I’ve seen this before. Give it time, and it will go away.” The problem is that cynicism quietly erodes our willingness to improve. It shuts down inquiry before it ever begins.

Skepticism takes a different stance. Skepticism leans in. It asks questions. It respects research enough to examine it closely rather than accept it blindly. It says, “This might matter. Let’s understand it before we act on it.”

That idea came into sharper focus for me during a recent conversation with Dylan Wiliam on The Community Connection podcast. We spent time unpacking a concept that shows up in nearly every school improvement conversation: effect sizes. If you have been in education long enough, you have likely encountered the work of John Hattie. His synthesis of research has helped bring clarity to what impacts student learning. It has also, at times, been oversimplified by well-meaning educators and leaders.

Here is where we can get into trouble. We see a high effect size and treat it like a guarantee. We rank strategies as if they operate the same in every classroom, every school, every community. We move too quickly from “this had an impact” to “this must be implemented everywhere.” Wiliam challenged that thinking in a way that stuck with me. Effect sizes are not prescriptions. They are summaries of what has happened on average across many different contexts. They do not tell us what will happen next in ours.

That shift changes everything. It reframes the role of a leader. The job is no longer to deliver the “right” strategy to a team. The job is to create the conditions where teams can engage with research, test ideas, and determine what works in their context. In other words, the goal is not just to be evidence-informed. The goal is to become evidence-generating. That is where skepticism becomes a leadership skill.

A skeptical leader asks better questions. What problem are we trying to solve? What did implementation actually look like in the research? How similar is our context to the one being studied? What evidence will we collect to know if this is working here? Then comes the part that matters most. They build systems that allow those questions to be answered through action.

This is where I have had to grow in my own practice. My role is not to be the agent in the room with the best article or the most compelling study. My role is to help teams create structures that allow for professional agency. Structures where teachers can try something, gather evidence, reflect, and adjust That requires psychological safety. It requires clarity. It requires a shared commitment to learning rather than a compliance-driven approach to implementation.

Research, when used well, does not narrow our thinking. It sharpens it. It gives us a starting point, not a script.

There is also a level of humility in this work. Research does not give us certainty. It gives us probability. It increases the likelihood of impact. It does not remove the need for professional judgment. If anything, it demands more of it. So where do I land on the question? Not cynical. That road leads to disengagement and stagnation. Not blindly compliant. That leads to surface-level change and frustration.

I land firmly in skepticism. Skepticism keeps me curious. It keeps me grounded. It allows me to honor the research without being controlled by it. It pushes me to ask better questions and to build better systems for teams to find answers together. If you are anything like me, you will still get excited about a strong meta-analysis. You should. Just do not stop there.

Start with the problem in front of you. Engage the research with intention. Test ideas in small, meaningful ways. Collect evidence from your own classrooms. Adjust based on what you learn. That is not just following the science. That is doing the work.

Stay close to the evidence. Stay closer to the questions.