Earlier this week, the new 12th-grade NAEP results were released. They were as deflating as you’d expect, given the horrid 4th- and 8th-grade results we saw last winter. They continued a familiar, decade-long decline. High school seniors posted their worst reading performance since 2005, and nearly half were below basic in math, meaning they lack the ability to read tables or apply percentages.

Are the nation’s high school principals on the case? Well, the National Association of Secondary School Principals (NASSP) responded to these dismal results by declaring:

Today’s results are a sobering reminder that too many students still aren’t getting the support they need to succeed. At the same time, test scores are only one lens for understanding success in our schools. That’s why policymakers must listen to school leaders and students and make real investments in mental health, staffing and academic resources so every learner has the opportunity to thrive.

Well. Those keeping score at home will notice there’s a lot NASSP didn’t say. Not a word here about rigor, grade inflation, curricula, instruction, literacy, numeracy, or chronic absenteeism. There’s nothing about the mistake of extended school closures, horrific Covid-era online instruction, or the misconduct that has created chaos in too many classrooms. There’s no mention of the need for cellphone bans or scientifically grounded reading instruction.

Instead? We’re told these hideous NAEP results ought not to be taken too seriously. There’s a vague nod towards the importance of “listening” to school administrators and the kids we’re not educating. There’s also a call for more money for “mental health, staffing and academic resources”—whatever that entails. (For what it’s worth, it sure doesn’t look like big new outlays for mental health have helped arrest declines in student learning.) And there’s a nebulous platitude about helping students “thrive.”

Forget thriving—huge numbers of America’s 17-year-olds aren’t even learning to read or do math.

Look, I’ve always taught my students and assistants that precision in language, whether in writing or speech, is crucial, because it forces us to think clearly. Throat-clearing, gobbledygook, and sloganeering are the enemies of clear thought.

Unfortunately, if there’s anything that education leaders, researchers, and advocates have perfected, it’s throat-clearing and sloganeering. Heaven forbid we talk frankly or bluntly about achievement, failure, or ineptitude. Instead, we get lots of formless yawping about “future-ready skills,” “collective wellness,” “embodied learning,” and learning that “puts humanity first.”

The NASSP missive inspired me to start tallying examples of vacuous edu-speak from that day’s inbox. You don’t need to go hunting for it—it’s everywhere. Trehaus, an early childhood education organization, sent me an email promoting their emphasis on “future-ready skills.” A flack for Harmony Healthcare pitched its mental health services while cheerfully relating that students are “embracing unconventional coping tactics” like “’bathroom camping’ (sneaking away for a quiet mental reset).” You know, kids have hidden in the bathroom during class for decades. We used to call it “cutting class.” I mean, “bathroom camping”?! C’mon, man.

An email announcing a new issue of Phi Delta Kappan touted an article on “Sustaining the Special Education Workforce: Gen Z Edition,” which closes by urging “a collective wellness framework within teacher preparation programs and school settings.” Another PDK article, “Helping Next-Gen Educators Cross the Teaching Tightrope,” casually explains that Gen Z teachers are “deeply committed to social justice” and “culturally responsive teaching that celebrates diversity and promotes empathy.” This caricature may or may not be generally true (narrator: “It is not.”), but such pablum is assuredly a lot easier to spout than asking hard questions like where special ed is falling short or whether these new teachers are good teachers.

I got a back-to-school pitch explaining how “RealSense and Prowise MOVE are enabling gesture-based, embodied learning, which shifts the classroom from passive to active engagement . . . so that students learn by moving, seeing, and hearing, not just reading or writing.” This might be fine if students were already reading. But we know that most do not; and the NAEP results suggest that many cannot. What did the pitch propose in lieu of reading? “Embodied learning” as a “future-ready” way to “make classrooms more interactive and adaptable for diverse learners.”

There was a pitch for a forthcoming book by New York Times bestselling author Tiffany Hammond, which asked if I’m interested in writing about “neurodivergence in the classroom and how inclusiveness in learning puts humanity first.”

My problem with the tyranny of education blather is distinct from but related to other concerns I share about trauma-infused pedagogy, educational faddism, or inappropriately political classrooms. Murky language is a breeding ground for those pathologies. They take root when we lose sight of what schools are for.

When communities share an unalloyed commitment to academic outcomes, good behavior, and high expectations, the mission of schools is clear. The words we use matter when maintaining and explaining that mission. As George Orwell so powerfully taught, our language shapes our thought. In education, a steady diet of buzzwords and vague allusions to trauma has proved a debilitating combination.

What should the nation’s high school principals have said about the NAEP results? Something clear and direct that owns up to the problem and proposes a way forward. Something that doesn’t downplay our present crisis, make a detour to mental health, or demand more “resources.” Here’s one suggestion: After the dismal 4th- and 8th-grade NAEP release back in January, I argued that school leaders need to focus on the things that schools can and must do: “That means setting clear guidance for students and teachers. Maintain order and address misbehavior. Encourage rigor and cultivate high expectations. Ensure that instructional time is used effectively.”

Ensuring that high school graduates are numerate, literate, and academically successful must be job one. We need to say that, clearly and forcefully, over and over. Anything else invites excuse-making, blame-shifting, and other assorted foolishness. We’ve had enough of that.

Frederick Hess is an executive editor of Education Next and the author of the blog “Old School with Rick Hess.”