It starts quietly, often at the kitchen table or in the car on the way home from school. A parent asks, “How was your day?” and receives a shrug, a mumbled “fine,” or the familiar silence of a teenager lost in a phone screen. For years, this scene has felt like normal family life, but newly released international data suggests it is part of a larger and more troubling pattern. Across some of the world’s wealthiest countries, academic performance has slipped to its lowest level on record. The latest results from the Programme for International Student Assessment, known as PISA, which is run by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development, show that among highly developed economies, average scores in mathematics, reading and science have all hit historic lows. More than 760,000 fifteen-year-olds from dozens of countries sat for the assessment, a rigorous international benchmark designed to measure how well students can apply what they have learned to real-world problems. The top performers included Singapore, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and China, while Estonia, the United Kingdom and New Zealand also posted strong results. But the overall picture was sobering, and it was not just about test scores. Alongside the academic decline, researchers noticed something equally worrying: parents seem to be taking less interest in their children’s education than they once did. The results point to a slow, quiet erosion of one of the most powerful and inexpensive resources a child can have—an engaged adult at home who cares about what happens in the classroom.
The most revealing findings may not have come from the test itself but from a survey completed alongside it. Compared with the previous PISA cycle in 2022, almost every participating country reported a drop in family engagement with children’s learning. Researchers measured this by asking students how often their parents discussed schoolwork with them, asked about what they were learning, and showed genuine interest in their academic lives. The decline was especially noticeable among boys, who were less likely to report having these conversations at home. And the numbers made clear just how much that absence can cost. Students who said a family member asked them at least once a week what they had done at school scored about thirty-five points higher on the PISA science assessment than students whose families were less engaged. According to the OECD, that gap equals more than a year and a half of learning, even after accounting for differences in family income and social background. In other words, something as simple as a weekly question—a genuine, curious, probing question about what happened in class—can be worth more than many expensive educational interventions. It is a powerful reminder that education is not something that happens only in school buildings. It is built in the small, often unnoticed interactions between adults and children: the moment a parent puts down their phone to listen, the nightly conversation about a confusing math problem, the quiet encouragement after a disappointing grade. The study suggests that in many homes, those moments are becoming rarer. And children are feeling the difference.
The good news, according to learning experts, is that parents can reverse this trend with practical, everyday habits. Emily Levy, an expert learning specialist and founder of EBL Coaching, told Newsweek that one of the most effective things parents can do is ask pointed questions instead of vague ones. “When parents ask their child about school, they should ask pointed questions rather than general questions, like ‘What did you work on in math today?’ or ‘Did you learn any new vocabulary words in Spanish?’” she said. General questions like “How was school?” usually don’t lead to concrete answers, because they are too open-ended and easy to dismiss. A child can answer “fine” in a single word and the conversation is over. But when a parent asks something specific, it signals that schoolwork matters, that the details of the day are important, and that the parent is truly listening. Levy also emphasized the importance of structure at home. Creating consistent routines—a dedicated homework space, a regular study schedule, and planned, structured breaks—can help children develop the self-discipline and focus that academic success requires. These routines do not need to be rigid or harsh. They just need to be reliable. Children thrive in environments where expectations are clear and where learning is treated as a priority, not an afterthought. A child who knows that homework time is a fixed part of the evening, that the television stays off during study hours, and that an adult will be nearby to help if needed, is a child who is far more likely to stay engaged in school. This is not about micromanaging or hovering; it is about creating a quiet, steady backdrop of support that tells a child, again and again, that education matters.
Another factor is playing a growing role in classroom struggles: digital distraction. The PISA survey asked students about their experiences in science lessons, and more than one in four students in high-income countries reported that classmates were distracted by digital devices during most or every lesson. A phone buzzing in a backpack, a smartwatch lighting up, a quick glance at a social media feed—these interruptions chip away at attention and make it harder for everyone in the room to learn. The study found that countries with stronger restrictions on cellphone use in schools tended to report lower levels of classroom distraction. This seems intuitive, yet the relationship between technology and academic performance turns out to be far from simple. Students in countries where digital devices were used for roughly two to three hours per day in school actually achieved higher scores. Educational software, research tools and digital textbooks can be powerful aids when used intentionally. But beyond that point, performance tended to decline. The key, it seems, is balance. Technology is neither the enemy nor the savior of education. It is a tool, and like any tool, it depends on how it is used. When devices are used sparingly, with clear goals and adult supervision, they can enhance learning. When they are allowed to dominate the classroom, becoming a constant source of distraction, they undermine it. The same principle applies at home. A child who spends hours scrolling on a phone after school has less time and energy for reading, homework and conversation. Parents who set boundaries around screen time, and who model those boundaries themselves, are not being harsh; they are protecting their children’s attention in a world that constantly competes for it.
Artificial intelligence is adding another layer of complexity. The PISA report found that students in developed economies who used AI chatbots frequently generally scored lower than those who never used them. Nearly half of all students in these countries said they used AI chatbots to support learning at least once a week. This might seem counterintuitive, especially in an era when many adults believe AI skills are essential for the future. But the findings suggest that reliance on AI may be replacing deeper thinking rather than supporting it. When a student asks a chatbot to summarize a book, explain a concept or even write an essay, they may be losing the struggle with the material that makes learning stick. The effort, the confusion, the trial and error—those are the moments when the brain actually builds understanding. Handing that work to a machine can feel efficient, but it can also leave students with superficial knowledge and weaker critical thinking skills. Levy believes that declining parental involvement is a key factor behind the drop in test scores, but she is careful to point out that it is far from the only cause. “Kids are using technology more and reading less, resulting in diminishing comprehension, vocabulary and language skills,” she said. “Students might also be less motivated to study and do well in school. Thus, while I do think parent engagement is a key component of success in school, I don’t think it’s the only variable.” Her words offer a more complete picture. The decline in academic performance is not the fault of parents alone, nor of technology alone, nor of any single policy or cultural shift. It is the product of a web of interconnected changes—distracted classrooms, screen-saturated homes, a culture that increasingly values speed over depth, and a slow loosening of the bonds between adults and children.
So what does all of this mean for the average family? It means there is no one easy answer, but it also means there is no reason for despair. The PISA data is alarming, but it is also illuminating. It tells us that parents still matter, perhaps more than they realize. A question at the dinner table, a quiet hour set aside for homework, a family conversation about how to use technology wisely—these small acts may seem insignificant in the face of global educational trends. But the evidence suggests they carry real weight. The thirty-five-point difference between engaged and disengaged families is not just a statistic. It is the equivalent of a year and a half of learning, and it is available to almost any parent willing to show up with curiosity and consistency. No family is perfect. There will always be evenings when dinner is rushed, homework is a battle, and parents are too tired to ask thoughtful questions. That is okay. The goal is not perfection; it is presence. The goal is to send children a steady, unmistakable message that their learning matters, that their schoolwork is important, and that there is an adult who will always want to know what they are thinking, what they are struggling with, and what they are proud of. In a world full of distractions, that kind of attention becomes a rare and powerful gift. The international test scores may have fallen, but the solution is not locked in a government ministry or a corporate boardroom. Part of it is still waiting at home, in the space between a simple question and a real answer. It begins when a parent looks at a child, sets down the phone, and says, with genuine interest, “Tell me about your day.” And then, perhaps, the quiet turnaround starts—one conversation, one evening, one family at a time.
