We remain remarkably stubborn in our belief that learning and development can be improved by adding something “on the side.” An intervention, a programme, a training. Something psychological, something cognitive, something layered on top of regular education. Think of self-efficacy, executive functions, or motivation programmes. Somewhere in all of this sits an implicit promise: if we just add that, things will get better.
A recent systematic review by Josefine Schlichtenhorst on interventions targeting academic self-efficacy confirms that this belief is partly justified. Yes, we can increase self-efficacy. Yes, many interventions show positive effects. And yes, these seem particularly beneficial for students who struggle. None of this is especially surprising, but it is a useful confirmation.
But if you read a little more closely, something else becomes visible.
The interventions that worked best across the 18 included studies were rarely purely “psychological.” They were not a handful of standalone sessions on mindset or confidence. Instead, they almost always combined elements such as clear structure, explicit goals, targeted feedback, opportunities for success, and strong teacher–student relationships. In other words, they look suspiciously like… solid teaching.
Self-efficacy does not grow because you tell students to believe in themselves. It grows because they experience that they can do something, understand why it works (or does not), and get the chance to try again with better feedback. That process unfolds in interaction with content, instruction, and practice—not separate from it.
And anyone who thinks this only applies to self-efficacy should take a look at executive functions. The same pattern appears there. For years, researchers searched for ways to train working memory, inhibition, or cognitive flexibility in isolation. The results were mixed, at best. Small effects, limited transfer. Until you look at studies that develop these functions within authentic learning tasks, supported by instruction and guidance. Then the picture changes. The parallel is hard to ignore.
Self-efficacy is about the belief: “I can do this.” Executive functions are about the capacity to organise and sustain that action. But both develop primarily in context. In meaningful tasks. With guidance. With feedback. And through repeated practice.
Which brings us to a slightly uncomfortable conclusion. Perhaps we should spend less time searching for interventions that boost self-efficacy or train executive functions, and more time designing education that develops them as natural consequences. Education in which students experience success, are allowed to make mistakes, understand what is happening, and are supported throughout the process.
That may sound less spectacular. There is no separate programme. No two-day training. No quick fix. But it is likely where we can find the greatest gains.
This does not mean that “psychological” interventions have no place. They can be valuable, especially for specific groups or goals. But they rarely operate independently of classroom practice. When they do have an effect, they tend to be embedded in something else: strong teaching.