Who is Tom Bennett? A Cautionary Tale for Teachers
- 6 days ago
- 5 min read
by Rebecca Thomas
When a child curls under the table in fear, is that behaviour? Or is that pain?
When a kaiako weeps in the staffroom, torn between policy and their own humanity — is that weakness? Or wisdom?
These are the questions that sit heavy with me as I watch the growing promotion of Tom Bennett’s upcoming visit to Aotearoa — an event described as a “transformational” learning opportunity for schools grappling with behaviour challenges.
At Engaging Learning Voices, we hold tightly to the belief that dialogue matters. That diverse perspectives deserve space. That respectful disagreement is not a threat—but a strength. We aim to listen before we speak.
But there are moments when listening becomes silence. And silence becomes complicity.
When inboxes are filled with polished promotions, glowing endorsements, and buzzwords like “respectful” and “evidence-based,” it’s worth pausing. Breathing. Asking:
Respectful to whom? Based on whose evidence? What are we really being sold?
Who is Tom Bennett, and what does he represent?
Tom Bennett is a former teacher and, until recently, the UK government’s ‘behaviour tsar,’ a role now set to conclude as Labour winds down the behaviour hubs programme he leads.
He’s published widely and advised thousands of schools on creating orderly classrooms, often through consistent sanctions, a focus on compliance, and what he calls “warm/strict” relationships.
Bennett presents his views with conviction and clarity—skills that have earned him a significant platform. Many educators — especially those struggling with extreme dysregulation and burnout — find comfort in his directness. He names the chaos and offers tools to restore calm.
But it’s what lies beneath that calm that deserves our deepest questions.
What we’ve seen overseas — and what we should learn from it
Bennett’s influence in the UK has shaped past government-backed behaviour hubs and policies built on strict rule enforcement, removing students from class, and tough consequences for what are often minor missteps. He has defended practices like isolation booths, frequent detentions, and zero-tolerance approaches as essential for maintaining safe learning environments.
But this approach has not had the impact its supporters claim.
The Education Endowment Foundation (EEF) has found that zero-tolerance policies lack robust evidence of improving pupil outcomes and may contribute to unnecessary exclusions, which disproportionately affect vulnerable learners. Isolation rooms — a key feature of this model — have never been robustly evaluated.
Meanwhile, exclusion and suspension rates in England have surged, reaching a record 787,000 pupils suspended in 2022–23, with neurodivergent and racialised learners most affected. These trends have triggered widespread concern and a major policy shift. The UK’s new Labour government is actively phasing out the “cruel” behaviour regimes Bennett has championed, dismantling behaviour hubs and redirecting the system toward inclusive, root-cause approaches.
It is in this context that Bennett is now touring Australia and Aotearoa — exporting a framework that is being dismantled in his own country.
And yet, here in Aotearoa, we see his tour promoted with language that frames his approach as “evidence-based” — a claim that becomes harder to stand by in light of the findings from the UK.
The Surface Sounds Safe
Bennett’s materials — including Running the Room and Conduct: Becoming the Behaviour Curriculum — use language many educators will resonate with:
He talks about belonging, consistency, and safety.
He offers tools for reducing chaos and creating “calm, dignified classrooms.”
He promises clear routines, adult confidence, and better learning for all.
For kaiako overwhelmed by dysregulation, or working in systems with little support, this framework can feel like a lifeline.
But here’s where we need to pause — and ask harder questions:
“No child flourishes in chaos” is true — but who defines what chaos is? And for whom?
Is it the autistic child humming to self-soothe?
The boy standing up to challenge perceived injustice?
The teacher who won’t issue a lunchtime detention because she knows the student just lost a grand parent?
Is that chaos — or is it context?
This isn’t an attack on structure or clarity — we need those. But structure without soul, or clarity without culture, leaves our most vulnerable ākonga behind.
Where is the Power?
Russell Bishop reminds us that transformative teaching requires us to share power with our learners — not just manage them. He calls for classrooms built on relationships of trust, reciprocity, and cultural identity, where learning is co-constructed, not imposed.
So it’s worth pausing to ask: Where does power sit in Bennett’s model?
His materials position the teacher as the centre of control — setting expectations, issuing consequences, and holding the line. And while consistency and clarity are valuable, we must consider: Does this model leave space for ako? For student voice? For power to be shared, not just upheld?
There is a difference between creating calm with our learners — and enforcing calm upon them.
This distinction matters deeply for those of us working to uphold equity, honour identity, and build classrooms where every child feels seen, heard, and trusted.
This is not who we are — or who we want to be
Here in Aotearoa, our education system is shaped by manaakitanga, whanaungatanga, aroha, and whakapapa. Our education system embraces complexity, community, and care. And yet, I can feel the subtle turn:
Structured PLD contracts that use rigid frameworks under the banner of “evidence.”
Behavioural language creeping into trauma-informed spaces.
Professional development that quietly echoes overseas models not grounded in te ao Māori or inclusive neurodevelopmental science.
I’m not suggesting every practice rooted in structure or consistency is bad. Of course not. But when “calm classrooms” become code for silencing difference, and “respect” becomes shorthand for obedience, we must pause.
An Invitation to Reflect
So, before you click “Register” or forward that email about Bennett’s tour, I ask you:
What do you know about Tom Bennett?
Who benefits from his model?
Who gets left behind?
And perhaps more urgently: Are we being sold a solution to behaviour — or a system that disconnects us from the heart of learning?
This is about informed choice.
It’s about making space for critical thought in the flood of promotional noise. It’s about protecting the spirit of education in Aotearoa from ideologies that do not honour its wairua.
To our kaiako and leaders
You are the ones holding this system together with aroha, resilience, and fierce dedication. You are the ones who see the child behind the behaviour.
We do not need imported ideology to tell us how to lead our classrooms.
We need the courage to trust what we already know:
That learning is relational.
That behaviour is communication.
That every child deserves to feel safe in our care.
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