When Did Early Years Become Two Jobs for the Price of One?

There is a contradiction sitting at the heart of Scottish early years policy that I think we need to start talking about much more openly. As someone who has worked in primary education, and who now owns and operates outdoor early years settings, I have experienced both sides of an educational system that appears to recognise the importance of children’s earliest experiences without necessarily recognising the professional responsibility involved in providing them.

For years, the Scottish Government has told us that the earliest stages of a child’s life are fundamental to their future development. Its 2026 national evaluation of the expansion to 1,140 funded hours states that there is “strong evidence that the early years of a child’s life are crucial” to children’s social and emotional development, language and numeracy. The same evaluation recognises that high-quality early learning and childcare can contribute positively to children’s outcomes, particularly for those experiencing disadvantage.

This is a significant acknowledgement. The Government is not describing early learning as merely a useful introduction to school or a convenient service that allows parents to return to employment. It is recognising that children’s earliest experiences can influence their development, relationships, confidence and future learning. If we accept this principle, as I believe we absolutely should, we must also consider the knowledge, skill and responsibility required of the adults working alongside children during this extraordinary period of development.

The early years are a time of remarkable neurological development. Children’s brains are developing rapidly, shaped through a combination of biological processes, relationships, experiences and their interactions with the world around them. Language emerges through conversation and connection, emotional regulation develops through responsive relationships, and cognitive skills are strengthened as children explore, experiment, question and make sense of their surroundings. The foundations of learning are being established long before a child walks through a school gate.

Yet the professionals supporting these processes are still frequently described in language that suggests their primary function is to supervise children while their parents work. I have never been particularly comfortable with the word childcare, not because care is unimportant, but because of the perception it can create. When we discuss childcare primarily as an economic necessity, something families require in order to participate in the workforce, we risk reducing a complex educational profession to something resembling babysitting.

And our practitioners are not babysitters.

Understanding how children learn is a professional skill

One of the most important distinctions we need to make is between providing children with activities and understanding the learning taking place through those activities. This is particularly relevant in early years, where play is the principal vehicle through which children explore and develop their understanding of the world.

Developmental psychologist Peter Gray has written extensively about the importance of self-directed play, arguing that children develop initiative, problem-solving abilities, social competence and emotional resilience through opportunities to explore and direct their own experiences. His work challenges the assumption that meaningful education must always involve an adult directing learning towards a predetermined outcome.

Sue Palmer, whose work on childhood development and the pressures of modern education has influenced discussions around play-based learning, has similarly argued for greater recognition of children’s developmental needs, particularly the importance of movement, outdoor experiences, relationships and opportunities for genuine play. Her work raises an important question about whether our increasingly outcome-driven educational systems always reflect what we understand about how young children develop.

These arguments resonate enormously with my experience of outdoor education. Children do not need an adult constantly directing their learning, but they do benefit from adults who understand development well enough to recognise when to support, extend or simply observe. There is considerable professional judgement involved in knowing when an intervention might deepen a child’s thinking and when that same intervention might interrupt something far more valuable.

Consider a group of children attempting to build a bridge across a muddy section of woodland. To someone unfamiliar with early childhood pedagogy, they may appear to be moving sticks around and getting dirty. An experienced practitioner, however, may recognise emerging mathematical thinking as children compare lengths and distances, scientific reasoning as they test the strength of materials, technological understanding as they adapt their designs, and increasingly sophisticated communication as they negotiate different ideas. They may also recognise opportunities for emotional development as children experience frustration, compromise, persistence and eventual achievement.

The practitioner’s role is not necessarily to turn that experience into a formal lesson. It is to understand the educational significance of what is happening, recognise the individual children’s developmental needs and make informed decisions about how the environment and their interactions can support further learning.

That is pedagogy, and it requires considerably more than simply enjoying spending time with children.

Scotland’s new inspection framework has changed the conversation

The introduction of the shared Quality Improvement Framework for the Early Learning and Childcare Sectors in September 2025 represents an important development in how Scotland evaluates early years provision. Used by the Care Inspectorate and HM Inspectors of Education, the framework brings together expectations around children’s care, wellbeing, play, development and educational experiences.

The framework describes its approach as “holistic”, encompassing care, play and education. It also establishes that children should be safe and protected from harm, cared for and able to thrive, and offered “high-quality learning and development opportunities.”

These principles reflect the Care Inspectorate’s important responsibility to promote high-quality care and protect the wellbeing and rights of children. The organisation’s work is fundamental to ensuring that children experience safe, nurturing and respectful environments, and that services remain accountable for the quality of care they provide.

Alongside this, HM Inspectors bring an explicitly educational responsibility. Their role includes evaluating the quality of children’s educational experiences and the effectiveness of learning within funded early years provision. The shared framework therefore reflects the reality that care and education are interconnected, while still recognising that both require scrutiny and professional expertise.

Its four overarching headings cover leadership, children thriving and developing in quality spaces, children playing and learning, and children being supported to achieve. These are not simply measures of whether children are comfortable, happy and safe, although those things are essential. They also require settings to consider the quality of learning experiences, the effectiveness of environments, the role of practitioners and how children are progressing.

I support this ambition. Children deserve high-quality care and education, regardless of whether they attend a local authority nursery, a private setting, a voluntary organisation or an outdoor provision. However, I believe the new framework exposes a contradiction that policymakers have yet to address adequately.

We are increasingly asking early years practitioners to understand, interpret and deliver sophisticated educational practice, yet we continue to operate within a system that fails to recognise or reward them financially as the educators they are. Perhaps equally concerning is the lack of professional recognition they receive, not only from policymakers but often from parents, the wider public and even colleagues within the education sector, who do not always appreciate the depth of knowledge, skill and responsibility their roles demand. We cannot continue to raise expectations of educational excellence while undervaluing the very professionals we entrust to deliver it.

An early years practitioner must be able to explain how their environment supports children’s development, how learning is recognised through play, how experiences connect to curricular expectations and how individual children are supported to progress. Alongside this, they must understand safeguarding, attachment, health and wellbeing, additional support needs, inclusion, behaviour, risk management and the complex practical responsibilities involved in caring for young children.

These are not minor expectations. They require substantial professional knowledge, reflective practice and sound judgement, often exercised simultaneously within busy and unpredictable environments. The question I believe we must ask is whether our qualification pathways, professional recognition and remuneration have kept pace with the expectations now being placed upon the workforce.

Curriculum for Excellence begins before school

Perhaps one of the greatest misconceptions surrounding early years education is that educational responsibility begins when children enter Primary 1. Curriculum for Excellence was deliberately designed to challenge that division, with Early Level spanning the preschool years and Primary 1 for most children.

Education Scotland describes Experiences and Outcomes as “clear and concise statements about children’s learning and progression.” They provide a framework for planning learning and assessing progress, while the associated Benchmarks support professional judgements about achievement within the curriculum.

For practitioners working with children aged three to five, this creates an expectation that they understand not only child development and play, but also how learning relates to curricular areas including literacy, numeracy, health and wellbeing, sciences, technologies, expressive arts and social studies.

This does not mean that nurseries should replicate classrooms or that children should be pushed towards formal academic learning before they are developmentally ready. Indeed, I would argue that a strong understanding of early childhood education should protect children from precisely that approach.

What it does mean is that practitioners need sufficient curricular knowledge to recognise learning as it emerges naturally, plan environments that offer meaningful opportunities and understand how children’s experiences contribute towards broader educational progression.

Take technologies, for example. There is a tendency to associate technology with digital devices, particularly when discussing education. Yet Curriculum for Excellence encompasses a much broader understanding of technological learning, including materials, design, problem-solving, construction and the processes involved in developing and evaluating solutions.

In our outdoor settings at Little Bugs, children might explore these concepts through constructing shelters, selecting materials, using tools, investigating waterproofing or developing structures from natural resources. The educational value lies not simply in completing the task, but in the thinking, decision-making, experimentation and reflection involved.

An experienced practitioner understands how these experiences can support curricular learning and how to extend children’s thinking without taking ownership of their play. They understand that a child who repeatedly tests whether a structure will remain standing is engaging in meaningful investigation, and that this learning may be more valuable than completing an adult-designed activity with a predetermined result.

Yet we expect practitioners to interpret and implement this curriculum within qualification structures that differ substantially from those required of our teaching colleagues. This deserves a much more serious national conversation.

What happens when children arrive at Primary 1?

The relationship between early years and primary education is particularly important because Early Level is intended to provide continuity across both stages. Children enter school with different experiences, abilities, interests and developmental needs, and the curriculum recognises that progression does not happen at exactly the same pace for every child.

It is also important to acknowledge that nursery attendance is not compulsory in Scotland. While funded early learning and childcare is widely available, children can arrive at school having experienced very different forms and amounts of preschool education.

Our Primary 1 colleagues therefore inherit an enormously varied starting point. They are expected to provide developmentally appropriate learning while also working within systems of curriculum progression, assessment, attainment, additional support needs and accountability. For most children, Early Level is expected to be achieved by the end of Primary 1, although individual progression will vary.

This creates significant pressure on teachers, particularly where children arrive requiring additional support with communication, social relationships, emotional regulation or early learning experiences.

I do not believe the answer is to place greater academic pressure on nurseries or to insist that every child arrives at school having achieved a predetermined set of skills. That would fundamentally misunderstand early childhood development. However, I do believe we need to recognise the contribution that high-quality early years education can make to children’s transitions and subsequent learning.

Investing in the professional knowledge of early years practitioners is not separate from investing in primary education. It is part of creating a coherent educational system in which children are supported continuously rather than moving between two professional worlds that are valued and funded very differently.

And none of this should imply that families are passive participants. Children’s learning begins at home and continues through their relationships with parents, siblings, extended family and communities. Cooking together, reading stories, exploring the garden, visiting local places, discussing everyday experiences and allowing children time to play all contribute to development. Early years practitioners and teachers should be partners with families, not substitutes for the learning and relationships that happen within the home.

If we are serious about improving outcomes, we must recognise that responsibility is shared, while ensuring that each part of the system has the knowledge and resources required to fulfil its role.

Are we expecting two professions for the price of one?

This brings me to what I consider one of the most significant contradictions in Scotland’s approach to early years.

Primary teaching is recognised as a graduate profession. Teachers undertake degree-level professional education, meet professional registration requirements and work within an established national salary structure. Their educational responsibilities are recognised through a defined professional identity and qualification pathway.

Early years practitioners, meanwhile, can enter the profession through qualifications such as the HNC Childhood Practice at SCQF Level 7, with further qualifications and professional development available as they progress. These are legitimate and valuable qualifications, and there are many exceptionally knowledgeable practitioners within the sector. However, the increasing educational expectations placed upon the workforce raise questions about whether existing qualification and career structures provide sufficient opportunities for advanced specialisation in early childhood pedagogy.

We are asking practitioners to understand curriculum, recognise progression, support complex developmental needs and explain the educational reasoning behind their practice, while simultaneously carrying out the intensive caring responsibilities associated with young children.

The reality is that these responsibilities cannot always be neatly separated during the nursery day. A practitioner supporting a distressed child is providing care, but they may also be supporting emotional regulation, communication and the development of secure relationships. A practitioner preparing lunch with children is meeting a basic care need, while potentially supporting independence, mathematical thinking, language, social interaction and an understanding of food.

Care and education are deeply connected in early childhood. Nevertheless, I believe we need to distinguish more clearly between the different areas of professional expertise required within early years and provide meaningful routes for practitioners who wish to specialise in education.

There is no reason why Scotland could not establish a recognised graduate-level or chartered pathway for Early Years Educators, specialising in birth-to-eight pedagogy, child development, curriculum, play, assessment, inclusion, outdoor learning and the wider educational needs of young children.

Such a pathway would not need to diminish the importance of care or suggest that every practitioner must become a graduate. Rather, it could create opportunities for professional progression, advanced educational expertise and remuneration that reflects the responsibilities associated with those roles.

I would welcome a system in which practitioners could develop towards recognised chartered status in early childhood education without feeling that the only route to greater professional recognition and salary progression is to leave the sector and become a primary teacher.

Early childhood education is a specialism in its own right, and I believe it is time Scotland treated it as one.

The pay gap exposes the contradiction

The question of professional recognition cannot be separated from funding and remuneration, particularly within the private, voluntary and independent sector.

The Scottish Government’s 2026–27 sustainable rates guidance provides additional funding intended to enable workers delivering funded early learning and childcare in private and third-sector settings to receive at least the Real Living Wage of £13.45 per hour.

Of course, improving pay is welcome, and many providers work hard to offer salaries above this minimum. However, I find it striking that the same Government which describes the earliest years as crucial to lifelong development continues to structure its funding commitments around a relatively modest wage floor for a workforce carrying substantial educational and caring responsibilities.

The language within the funding guidance is equally revealing. The workforce is described as “childcare workers”, while the inspection and curriculum frameworks require these same professionals to demonstrate increasingly sophisticated educational knowledge.

There is a fundamental inconsistency here. When we discuss the importance of early childhood development, we speak about neuroscience, attachment, educational outcomes, attainment and the future wellbeing of society. When we inspect settings, we ask practitioners to demonstrate educational quality, progression and impact. Yet when we discuss the workforce financially, the conversation returns to the affordability of childcare and the minimum wages that funding arrangements can support.

I am not suggesting that funding the sector is straightforward. As a provider, I understand the realities of staffing costs, pensions, employer contributions, training, resources, property, insurance and the considerable expense involved in maintaining high-quality provision. However, that makes the issue more urgent rather than less.

If the Scottish Government genuinely wishes to establish a highly skilled early years workforce, it must ensure that funding arrangements allow providers to recruit, develop and retain those professionals.

This is particularly important when considering the differences between local authority and PVI provision. There remains a perception that educational quality is somehow inherently stronger when delivered within a school-based setting. I fundamentally disagree with that assumption.

Educational quality is not determined by whether a setting is operated by a local authority, a private business or a charitable organisation. It is determined by the quality of relationships, leadership, pedagogy, environments, professional knowledge and the experiences children receive.

At Little Bugs, we have made deliberate decisions about our outdoor environments, our approach to play, our curriculum, our food education and the professional skills we want within our teams. We have the ability to shape environments around our educational philosophy and to develop particular areas of expertise that reflect the needs and interests of our children.

That flexibility can be a significant strength of PVI provision. It allows settings to innovate, specialise and develop distinctive approaches to learning, while remaining accountable to the same national expectations around quality.

We should be celebrating that diversity rather than perpetuating assumptions that educational excellence is necessarily linked to the type of provider delivering it.

But if PVI providers are expected to meet the same educational standards, we must address the structural inequalities that can make it difficult for them to compete for highly qualified staff. Otherwise, we risk creating a system in which educational expectations are consistent but the opportunities for professional recognition and reward are not.

Why we launched Prairie & Pine Learning

It was precisely these questions that led us to develop Prairie & Pine Learning.

Over the years, I have become increasingly aware of a gap between what practitioners are expected to understand educationally and the professional development opportunities consistently available to them.

There is rightly considerable emphasis on mandatory training in areas such as safeguarding, child protection, first aid, food hygiene and health and safety. These are essential components of professional practice, and no one should underestimate their importance.

However, we also need to ask whether practitioners are being given sufficient opportunities to deepen their understanding of curriculum, pedagogy and the educational significance of children’s experiences.

How confidently can a practitioner identify the learning taking place within a child’s self-directed play? Can they explain how an outdoor experience connects to Curriculum for Excellence? Do they understand how learning might progress from Early to First Level? Can they recognise when an intervention will extend a child’s thinking and when it may be more appropriate to observe? Are they able to explain the educational value of their environment to families, colleagues and inspectors?

These questions require more than a collection of attractive activity ideas or downloadable planning sheets. They require practitioners to understand the educational principles behind their work and to develop the confidence to apply that knowledge in practice.

That is why our Prairie & Pine courses have been designed with an explicitly educational focus. We explore subjects such as technologies outdoors, materials and textiles, sustainability, growing and harvesting, practical food education, environmental design and curriculum progression. Our aim is to connect meaningful, practical experiences with the Experiences and Outcomes of Curriculum for Excellence and to help practitioners understand not only what they might offer children, but why those experiences matter.

The response to our courses has been incredibly encouraging. The interest and demand we have experienced suggest that practitioners are actively seeking opportunities to develop this deeper educational understanding. They want to be challenged professionally, to develop their knowledge and to feel confident explaining the learning taking place within their settings.

I think that tells us something important about the aspirations of our workforce.

Practitioners do not simply want to be handed another list of activities to deliver. They want to understand their profession. They want to develop expertise, make informed educational decisions and feel recognised for the knowledge they bring to children’s experiences.

For us, Prairie & Pine is therefore about more than providing courses. It is about contributing to a broader shift in how we understand and support professional learning within early years, particularly in outdoor and play-based education.

If Scotland is going to continue raising expectations around educational quality, we need to ensure that the workforce has access to meaningful professional development that reflects those expectations.

Scotland needs to decide what it is asking for

I believe Scotland has reached a point where its policy ambitions and its workforce structures are no longer comfortably aligned.

We recognise the importance of children’s earliest experiences and acknowledge the role those experiences play in social, emotional and cognitive development. We have developed a curriculum that begins before school and an inspection framework that evaluates both care and educational quality. We expect practitioners to understand children’s learning, create responsive environments, support progression and demonstrate the impact of their practice.

Yet we continue to discuss the sector primarily through the language of childcare, workforce participation and affordability, while many of the professionals delivering these expectations remain within qualification and pay structures that do not adequately reflect the complexity of their responsibilities.

I do not believe the solution is to make nursery more like school. Nor do I believe we should expect every practitioner to undertake the same qualifications or fulfil identical professional roles. There is enormous value in the different skills, experiences and specialisms that people bring to early years.

However, I do believe we need a clearer professional framework that recognises early childhood education as a distinct area of expertise, creates meaningful graduate and chartered pathways, invests in educational professional development and addresses the inequalities in remuneration that exist across different types of provision.

We must also be careful not to lose sight of the child. The purpose of all of this is not to produce more paperwork, more assessments or more complicated inspection processes. It is to ensure that children experience knowledgeable, nurturing and responsive adults who understand their development and can provide environments in which they are genuinely able to flourish.

A child exploring a woodland does not know whether the adult beside them holds an HNC, a degree or a postgraduate qualification. They do not understand the difference between local authority and PVI funding, and they certainly do not care which inspection body is responsible for evaluating the setting.

What they experience is the quality of the relationship, the opportunities available to them and the confidence of the adult who understands when to support their learning and when to allow them the freedom to discover something for themselves.

Those experiences are shaped by professional knowledge, even when that knowledge is largely invisible to the child.

And that brings us back to the question at the heart of this article. If Scotland genuinely believes that the earliest years are crucial to children’s future development, and if our national frameworks increasingly expect practitioners to demonstrate expertise in both care and education, then we must create a workforce system that reflects those responsibilities.

Our practitioners are not babysitters, and nor should we need to describe them as teachers to justify their professional value. They are early childhood professionals working within one of the most important and complex stages of human development.

Perhaps the question is no longer whether early years practitioners are educators. Scotland’s own curriculum and inspection frameworks have already established that education is fundamental to their work. The question is when we are finally going to recognise, develop and reward them accordingly.