As we approach the 40^th anniversary of the abolition of corporal punishment in schools, we ask if there is really cause for celebration.

A Hard Egg to Crack

The Labour party were absolutely pivotal in securing the ban on the abolition of corporal punishments in schools in the UK. They took a party-wide abolitionist stance in 1980, and Labour’s backing secured the 1986 vote in favour of abolition (Emmerson, 2020). However, the 1986 vote abolishing corporal punishment was just the start of the process, it would take another 15 years to successfully end corporal punishment across the whole of the education sector in the UK (Burchell, 2018). Even as recently as 2005, there were still organisations lobbying for its continued use and efficacy in educational settings (Farrell, 2021). Arguments in favour of corporal punishment were deeply ingrained in schools. Some advocates believed that corporal punishment was an essential ingredient in the development of the child’s moral character (Dubanoski et al., 1983). In line with the proverb spare the rod, spoil the child, some advocates believed that it was cruel to deny any child the character forming experience of corporal punishment. Others argued for the need for teachers to retain a position of power to protect the learning and safety of pupils from their unruly and uncivilised brethren (Parker-Jenkins, 2008). Many expressed their conviction that corporal punishment was an essential part of a teacher’s demonstration of their full regard for the child’s welfare; a simple extension of the care and discipline a child would receive in the home (Burchell, 2018).

The Fried Egg Incident

In 1986 I started secondary school, in a Christian faith state school in England. We had to attend the school’s chapel on alternate Sundays and twice during the week. I distinctly remember the outcry from some particularly vocal teachers at my faith school, regarding the imminent and inevitable anarchy that would spread throughout schools far and wide because of this new ruling. In opposition to the new law, several teachers, including some in my school, sought loopholes that would enable them to continue to exact corporal punishments as they saw fit. These teachers attempted to subvert the law by interpreting it initially, as a ‘ban on canning’ (Parry, 1987). This enabled them to continue to assault us with a variety of different weapons, such as slippers (not the fluffy kind), yard sticks, board rubbers and other assorted classroom paraphernalia. This was so widespread, that the education department had to issue a statement for local authorities, parents, governors and teachers reiterating that the ban was on all forms of corporal punishment in schools, without exception (Gould, 2007).  However, the education department’s statement appeared to some not as a deterrent, but as a challenge. This included my drama teacher who shocked us all when, in 1988, mid-lesson, he slapped me hard about my face with a plastic fried egg from the prop cupboard. As my year 8 classmates and I sat in stunned silence, he proudly claimed to us all that we could ‘tell anyone we liked as no-one would believe us.’ The sting on my cheek is long forgotten, but the sting of complete humiliation will never disappear – even after almost 40 years I can still feel the shame.

Don’t Count Your Chickens

So, it is cause for celebration that in the UK at least, we no longer have such draconian sanctions in schools. Or is it? Since the final ban on corporal punishment in UK schools at the turn of the century, the field of neuroscience has advanced beyond recognition, with substantial implications for our lives, and for education. So far, neuroscience has predominantly been applied to the science of learning in schools (Centre for Educational Neuroscience, 2014). However, what might neuroscience tell us about the science of behaviour management in schools if only we were to ask? In 2003, Eisenberger and colleagues, studied the neural similarities of brain responses to physical pain and social pain. Social pain might be typified by being overlooked, excluded or humiliated (Piretti et al., 2023). They found that the ‘neurocognitive function’ (p. 291) of social pain was similar to that of physical pain (Eisenberger et al., 2003). They argued that the function of pain in both these cases is to signal to us that restorative action needs to be taken. This might include tending to a wound to avoid infection or attending to our social relations to ensure our inclusion and safety. Attachment theory has profoundly shaped our understanding of the need to be belong, to be held in mind, to have safe and trusted adults to take care of us. Our attachments sustain us throughout our lives, providing the emotional buffers we need not only to survive, but to thrive (Bhatia et al., 2023). Porter et al. (2007) found that social pain signals a threat to our survival at a neurological level but also, that our experiences of attachment influence how we process physical pain, as well as social and emotional pain. Neuroscience has demonstrated that we experience social pain and physical pain in neurologically similar ways, and with similarly negative consequences (Zhang et al., 2019). If physical pain and social pain are not neurologically distinct, then the arguments made by the Labour Party in the 1980’s for the abolition of corporal punishment, need to be revisited by them again, in 2025, with regard to social punishment in schools.

You can’t make an omelette…

Since the ban on corporal punishment in schools in England, there has been a shift towards social punishments for children and young people, rather than a shift away from punitive approaches. Some of these, such as detentions or community service have been around for generations, but others, such as isolation rooms and off-site direction are new. Advocates of these sanctions rely on a similar rhetoric to their pro-corporal punishment counterparts of the 1980’s. For example, the DfE’s (2024) Behaviour in Schools guidance contains no reference to evidence, research or consultation. Instead it is structured around a set of common sense truisms which Minnich (2017, p.103) refers to as “of course politics”.  It might be argued that corporal punishments in schools have simply been replaced with social punishments. Instead of the cane, children are now punished socially by being moved to a different classroom, missing out on school trips, spending days isolated from their peers in isolation rooms, or being thrust into new, unfamiliar education settings. Given the neural correlates of social and physical pain, and the intersection of attachment and the need for connectedness in schools (Black-Hawkins et al., 2021) – it becomes hard to justify the continued use of social pain as a punishment. If intentionally causing physical pain is, rightly, against the law in school, then so too should intentionally causing social pain. Since both experiences cause similar neurological distress, policy makers and law makers, including Labour’s new department for education, are required to bring this issue to the table.

Chicken or Egg

School punishments which leverage children and young people’s social exclusion are not only ineffective, but also incompatible with their human rights (Fraser-Andrews & Condliffe, 2023). Children and young people have long known this (Jones et al., 2023): in the words of one participant in Condliffe’s (2023) study of children and young people’s experiences of isolation rooms, ‘Um, like on the basis of what a prison is, you are being taken away from, you know, your socialising. You’re being put in a box as your punishment’ (p. 137).  Dialogues to facilitate change and progress the wellbeing agenda in schools continue, slowly. Oxley’s (2021) study of the barriers to alternative forms of behaviour management in schools suggests that whilst there is willingness from school leaders to do things differently, they feel keenly the systemic pressure on them to defer to traditional punishments that shame and isolate. This echoes the arguments against the ban on corporal punishments, essentially the belief that if we stop punishing children and young people socially or physically, anarchy will inevitably follow (Farrell, 2021). However, what is missing from this discussion, is the role of schools in creating the very behavioural responses that they believe require punishment; the chicken or egg debate. As Primdahl and Simovska (2024) propose, a child or young person’s wellbeing is not separate from their school environment. As such, the voices of children and young people are vital for schools to learn about how to support them, how to encourage them to learn from their experiences, and how to help them to value making mistakes as an inevitable part of growing up.

Don’t Let the Fox Guard the Henhouse

Labour has introduced their new Children’s Wellbeing and Schools Bill (2025). In it, they have made explicit their intention to address some of the ways in which children are socially excluded by schools. For example, their plan to bring academies in line with maintained schools with regard to directing children to off-site provision (Department for Education, 2025). Similarly, their plan to ensure fair admissions arrangements for children with SEND and other disadvantaged groups (Department for Education, 2025) will enable children and families to grow up within their local communities. These are welcome steps which acknowledge the impact of the pain caused when a child is socially excluded. But these initiatives are insufficient as they do not address the experience of the child once they are in a school setting (McLellan & Fraser-Andrews, 2025). We now have access to a wealth of different practices for positive behaviour management in schools which build social connection, rather than inflict social pain. Non-violent communication, restorative practice, connection before correction, the PACE approach, are all examples of more enlightened ways of thinking about behaviour management. These approaches have child wellbeing at their core. They build on neuroscience and attachment theory to promote the holistic development of the child within a community of support. Whilst these approaches are of course neither panaceas, nor problem free (Wang, 2018), they offer us a new direction and do not rely on causing children any kind of pain, either social or physical. Furthermore, children and young people are an invaluable resource for exploring new ways to think about how to conceptualise, and manage, behaviour in schools. Involving children and young people in seeking solutions and alternatives to consequences and sanctions offers both first person insights, as well as broadening and building children’s social connectedness. Nearly 40 years has passed since Labour successfully introduced the abolition of sanctions which cause children physical pain in school. If we truly want a Bill for children’s wellbeing, then it is time to turn our attention to banning sanctions that cause social pain, and to involve children and young people in shaping the way forward. If there is a moral to be found in the fried egg incident, might it be this? If you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs, then make something else for dinner!