“People think we’re just a bunch of bad kids, believe me, it’s not that simple”

When I first heard those words in the BBC documentary Excluded: Kicked Out of School (2015) they stayed with me, because it’s true. It isn’t that simple. When children are excluded from school, it isn’t just about bad behaviour; it’s a reflection of deeper systemic failures. Behind every ‘problem child’ is a plethora of problems most people fail to see, and a system that’s often quicker to punish than to understand.

Whilst there’s lots of evidence that exclusion is an ineffective way to tackle these problems, we see this pattern repeating later in life with the prison system. In a system that is under-resourced and over-stretched individuals who struggle are often removed from the very same communities that could help them. This pattern not only fails to address the root causes of challenging behaviour, but it also acts to reinforce issues that create further costs and challenges down the line.

The exclusion-to-prison pipeline provides an explanation for this pattern. Once a person is branded as “difficult” or a “troublemaker” they begin to internalise this identity. Exclusion reinforces the label not only in the eyes of authority and peers, but in the individual’s sense of self. Over time this can chip away at confidence, belonging and the belief that they are able to succeed in a society that has already discarded them. We see this in the fact that 63% of UK prisoners had been temporarily excluded while at school. Further, where recent data shows 28% of prisoners reoffending – we have to question the very principle of exclusion that begins in the classroom.

Exclusion also doesn’t affect individuals equally. For many young people, exclusion is not an isolated incident but part of a wider social disadvantage. This includes, but is not limited to, children with additional educational needs, those from Black and mixed-ethnic backgrounds, low socio-economic households and young men. When education – which is often the last stable structure in their lives – is taken away, the risks naturally escalate. Disengaged from school and labelled as problematic, some turn to peer groups that offer a different sense of belonging, even if it comes with the added complexity of violence or criminal behaviour. Being removed from school therefore becomes a symptom and driver of deeper social inequality.

It is important to question why the system targets those who need the most understanding and support? One explanation for this could be implicit bias, which refers to the unconscious attitudes or stereotypes that affect our actions, decisions and understanding. These biases are shaped by societal narratives that influence how figures of authority perceive young people. In this context, implicit bias can mean certain behaviours are judged more harshly depending on who displays them. A young Black boy showing frustration may be seen as aggressive, while similar behaviour from a white peer may be viewed as a moment of stress or immaturity. Predictably, this inequality doesn’t stop at the school gates. Studies find that young Black Londoners have increased odds of being stopped and searched in comparison to their white peers. When these groups are disproportionately excluded from education and later targeted by policing, the message is reinforced: they are seen as problems to be managed, not people to be supported.

The government is under increasing pressure over the crisis in our prison systems: overcrowding, stretched resources, rising violence and an increase in reoffending are acknowledged as urgent problems. If we really want to ease this pressure, intervention must begin long before incarceration. Social problems often peak in mid-to-late adolescence, but their roots lie in early experiences of instability and rejection. Understanding and supporting these young people early on isn’t just about compassion, it’s about preventing patterns that can extend well into adulthood.

Of course, that’s not to say that deciding to exclude is an easy route. Headteachers are faced with the difficult responsibility of balancing the needs of one child with the safety, learning and wellbeing of the wider school community. When behaviour becomes disruptive or threatening, schools have a duty to protect other pupils and staff. In that context, exclusion sometimes seems like the only viable option.

Whilst this is understandable, it overlooks the long-term impact, on the individual and society. Removing the child might resolve short term problems in the classroom but it rarely addresses the underlying causes of their behaviour. Often, it simply transfers the issue elsewhere, pushing vulnerable children into situations where they’re more likely to disengage and act out.

In the UK, most excluded children are placed in Pupil Referral Units (PRUs) or alternative provision schools. Whilst many of these institutions work tirelessly to offer support, they work with a cohort who have struggled in mainstream education. Supporting these young people alongside pressure to change behaviour and habits is a huge challenge.

Research highlights issues that some children are missing years of school before they are placed in alternative provisions, meaning before they even start, their relationship with learning is extremely fragile. Attendance is unreliable in PRUs and engagement remains low. Often children have gaps in their learning, social emotional development and confidence which makes active participation challenging. Additionally, educators highlight that peer group influences outside the classroom undermine engagement. Students reported needing to ‘prove themselves’ so ‘no one messed with them’ and a worry that if they tried too hard, it would only result in embarrassment. Because of a large amount of missed school or time spent out of lessons, pupils excluded from school often academically underperform. An annual report in 2021 showed 4% of excluded pupils passed their English and maths GCSEs compared to 64% of pupils across all state schools. This only adds to the familiar rhetoric that they are not good enough.

This pattern seen in alternative provision mirrors those found in prisons: heightened levels of violence, low self-esteem, and powerful peer dynamics that can reinforce negative behaviour. Many young people in PRUs struggle with the same feelings of rejection and mistrust that later appear in the prison population. If education in this context resembles containment rather than opportunity – it is only confirmation that we have gone wrong.

The evidence is clear that exclusion is not a solution, but what does work?

The “Learning Together” intervention model is a great place to start. The model is implemented across the entire school, requiring collaboration between leadership teams, staff and students. It focuses on social and emotional learning to promote skills such as autonomy and reasoning, making students feel heard and facilitating greater student participation. The model is driven by restorative process which uses both primary (preventative) and secondary (de-escalation) practices to build and maintain positive relationships that are built on a foundation of trust.

A recent review found trauma-informed practice and cross-agency support such as targeted mentoring, mental health support, academic catch-up and personalised learning to be the most impactful. Additionally, who delivers the support matters. When delivering these approaches, a trusted adult that the pupil aligned with made a notable difference.

However, with a lapse in funding across education, the concept of extra staff and whole-school training seems worlds away. Wanting to implement successful change is one thing, having the budget for it is another. If policymakers want to tackle youth crime, prison overcrowding and the mental health crisis at its root they simply must fund whole-school trauma-informed training on a national level. They need to invest and research into restorative behaviour programmes; long-term consistent counselling and more accessible, tailored mental health support. This will allow for earlier, more effective intervention and prove more sustainable in the long run.

Every time a child is removed from a classroom, we make a statement about who we choose to invest in. Exclusion doesn’t solve problems, it shifts them. Real change starts with inclusion and sustainable intervention. When we stop seeing ‘bad kids’ and start seeing children in need of care, the change will reach far beyond the classroom.