EHCP Reform: A Time for Panic or Progress?

The recent headlines around the government’s review of Education, Health and Care Plans (EHCPs) have understandably sent many parents into a state of panic.

After all, for many families, securing an EHCP for their child has been a long, emotionally exhausting journey, one filled with form-filling, waiting, chasing, and fighting for their child's needs to be recognised. I know this feeling, as I am one of these parents. So, the idea that EHCPs may be “phased out” or radically restructured can feel like a threat to the hard-won progress they've achieved.

But before we let fear take hold, I want to offer a slightly different perspective, one grounded in professional experience and deep compassion an connection for the families walking this road.

A System in Crisis

As someone who has worked closely with local authorities, SENCOs, and schools across mainstream and specialist settings, I can say with honesty: the EHCP process is, in its current form, fundamentally broken.

I recently held a focus group with SENCOs from a wide range of schools and sectors. The message was unanimous: the system is overwhelmed. One school shared that they had over 150 students with EHCPs. But by the time the plan was finalised (after months of gathering input, seeking approvals, and waiting on responses) it was already out of date. The process had taken so long, the child’s needs had changed or the statutory review period had lapsed, and the cycle of delay started all over again.

The SENCO told us they’d hired a full-time member of staff just to manage EHCP paperwork. In addition, significantt amounts of their time was dedicated not to supporting children, but completing paperwork that often made no difference anyway. And that same time and energy, would be better spent directly meeting children’s needs.

This is not a criticism of schools or professionals. It’s a reflection of a system under immense strain. The process has become a cottage industry in itself, draining energy and resources without always improving outcomes for children.

What Are Parents Really Worried About?

For many families, an EHCP is more than a document. It represents recognition. Protection. A sense that someone is finally listening. Parents seek EHCPs because they feel it’s the only way to get their child’s needs met, and sadly, in many cases, they’re right.

But that’s the part that needs to change.

We need to build a system where support doesn’t rely on bureaucracy. Where needs don’t have to be “proven” through endless reports. Where reasonable adjustments and enhanced support are part of a school’s inclusive practice not something that has to be fought for, or only delivered if a formal plan is in place.

Universal Provision That’s Truly Inclusive

A big part of this conversation centres around what’s often referred to as universal provision. In theory, this means the support a school can offer to any child, without needing additional funding. But the term can be misleading. It often sounds like “standard” or “one-size-fits-all” — and that’s not inclusion.

The best schools I’ve worked with take a different view. They reframe universal provision as: what accommodations are within our remit to provide, as part of inclusive practice?

My son’s primary school was a great example. Brain breaks, sensory adjustments, nurture time, and outdoor learning were built into his week. These weren’t put in place because of the existence of a formal document. They were simply what the school believed it could and should do to meet the needs of this learner. They didn’t require large sums of additional funding (albeit schools should be better funded for this), just a willingness to think differently and reorganise the environment slightly to better support my son.

What stood out most, was the school’s culture. It was rooted in compassion and care. Staff understood that fair doesn’t always mean the same and that inclusion means meeting children where they are, not expecting them all to fit one mould. They asked, “What can we do?” not “Do we have to?” And because of that ethos, there was very little I ever had to fight for.

Sadly, not all schools take this approach. And that’s why so many parents pursue EHCPs…they need permission. Permission to ask for what their child needs. Permission to be heard.

If more schools could adopt a truly inclusive culture, one where support is embedded rather than gated by paperwork, we’d have happy children, parents and teachers. This is something that should be a focus for the Government and the Inspectorate.

Clarifying the Levels of Support: A Simpler, Needs-Based Framework

One of the challenges at the heart of this conversation is the lack of clarity around what different types of provision actually mean and what kind of support should be expected at each level.

To move forward, I believe we need a shared language and a streamlined framework that matches the scale of support needed with the process required to access it. For me, something like this would be a place to start:

• Enhanced Universal Provision:
  For children with additional needs who can be supported within a mainstream environment, but who will require some targeted accommodations to thrive. This might include adjustments to the timetable, differentiated behaviour expectations, access to sensory or movement breaks, or specific learning strategies. These should be seen as reasonable adjustments within a school’s inclusive practice, not something that needs excessive paperwork to justify.

• Tier 1 Specialist Provision:
  These children can remain in mainstream settings but require additional, specific support that goes beyond what a school can provide from its existing resources (such as dedicated 1:1 support). This is where a funding application to the local authority may be needed. The paperwork here should focus on outlining the need for that specific provision, rather than repeating an exhaustive review of every element of the child’s life.

• Tier 2 Specialist Provision:
  For children whose needs cannot be met in a mainstream school, even with adjustments or additional support. These children may require specialist settings tailored to their learning, emotional or behavioural profiles. In these cases, a full review and more comprehensive evidence would understandably be needed to determine the most appropriate placement.

This sort of tiered model could allow us to move away from the “EHCP or nothing” mindset that so many families currently feel trapped in. Instead, it would let us align the level of paperwork, assessment and intervention with the actual level of provision being requested, freeing up professionals to spend more time supporting children, and less time on form-filling.

The key is flexibility, fairness, and trust. When schools are clear about what they can offer (and willing to innovate within those boundaries), and local authorities respond proportionately to what’s being asked for, we create a system that’s focused on the child and not the paperwork.

What Could Reform Look Like?

If this review is done with the right intentions, led by people who truly understand the system from the inside, it could pave the way for something much better. I don’t claim o have all the answers, and I know that real, lasting change will require the voices of many: parents, educators, professionals, and—most importantly—young people themselves. But here are my hopes, my voice on what the future could look like:

Every child requiring enhanced universal provision would have a person-centred plan and a clear needs profile, co-developed and maintained by the school and the family. This document would be a living record, capturing the accommodations, support, outcomes, and progress of that child. It would be reviewed regularly, shared with all relevant staff, and actively used to inform teaching and support strategies.

For children needing a higher level of support, additional assessments and funding requests should be proportionate and aligned with the provision needed. Much of the necessary evidence should already exist within the child’s plan, removing the need to repeatedly gather and re-document the same information.

Educational psychologists and SEND professionals would be freed from the relentless cycle of paperwork and report writing. Instead, they could spend more time doing what they are trained to do - coaching staff, supporting children directly, and embedding inclusive practice across schools.

And finally, schools would publish a clear Needs Policy alongside their Behaviour Policy openly stating what they can (are wiling to) offer, where their limitations lie, and how they intend to approach inclusion with transparency and compassion.

A Final Thought for Parents

I understand why this news feels scary. You’ve been through so much already. But I also know that the current system often fails to deliver what it promises. It leaves families burnt out, staff overwhelmed, and too many children unsupported.

This could be a moment for positive change. If we raise our voices constructively, if we push for reforms that are child-centred, relational, and practical, we can build something better not just for our own children, but for every child who deserves to be seen and supported.

Let’s keep watch, hold our leaders to account, and continue to push for a system that starts with needs not paperwork.