What Do We Really Mean by “Good English”?

by Amanda Archbald

I have been thinking about English recently. Not the subject, but the language itself.

The way it sounds. The way it shifts depending on who is speaking. The way it is judged.

It shows up in small moments. A raised eyebrow at a pronunciation. A quiet correction of phrasing. An assumption about what “good English” should sound like.

I feel it too. There are moments where I become aware of my own accent in a way that has little to do with clarity, and everything to do with perception.

At the same time, I hear confident speakers using grammatically incorrect forms or phrases. These rarely attract the same scrutiny.

So what are we actually measuring when we talk about “good English”?

In schools, the answer is often framed around correctness. Grammar. Accuracy. Alignment with exam expectations.

But English is not a fixed system. It is a global language shaped by context, history, and use. What is considered correct in one setting may be entirely natural in another. Forms like “yous” exist because speakers have adapted the language to meet a communicative need. They are not careless. They are functional.

The issue is not variation. It is how variation is judged.

Certain forms of English have been codified and attached to power. They dominate assessments, textbooks, and professional spaces. Over time, they become positioned not just as standard, but as superior.

Accent sits within this.

It is routinely treated as a marker of competence, when in reality it is a marker of identity. Judgements are made quickly, and often unconsciously, about credibility and intelligence based on how someone sounds.

In classrooms, this is not abstract.

Pupils with accents that sit outside of what is perceived as standard are corrected more frequently, even when they are fully understood. Their language is reshaped in real time. The message is subtle but consistent. This is not quite right.

For multilingual pupils, the complexity is greater. They are navigating the language of home, school, assessment, and peers, often within the same day.

When we position one version of English as the only “good” one, we are not raising standards. We are narrowing access.

Standards do matter. Pupils need control of academic English to access the curriculum and succeed in assessment.

But clarity is not the same as conformity.

The goal is not to remove variation. It is to develop control. Pupils need to understand how language shifts across contexts, and how to move between those contexts with precision.

In classrooms, this shows up in predictable ways, and it is not neutral.

If a pupil is understood, repeated correction of pronunciation does little to improve access. Modelling is often more effective than interruption.

When non-standard forms appear, meaning should be acknowledged first. Then the academic form is introduced. Not as a correction of what is wrong, but as an expansion of what is possible.

We also need to be explicit. There is no single English. There are registers. The language of home, conversation, and assessment are different, and moving between them is a skill.

And we need to look closely at our own practice. Whose language do we correct most quickly? What do we overlook? These patterns are rarely intentional, but they are not without impact.

We are not simply teaching English.

We are shaping which voices are heard, which are adjusted, and which are positioned as correct.

If we are serious about inclusion, that distinction matters.

Because “good English” is not about sounding a certain way.

It is about being understood, making deliberate choices, and using language with control in the contexts that matter.