CLIL in Greece: Uncritical and Unhelpful

What prompted this blog post was a conference by the Greek Applied Linguistics Association, which focused on Content and Language Integrated Learning (CLIL). I think that it is no accident that the English Language Teaching apparatus in Greek education has taken an interest in CLIL at this time, and in the paragraphs that follow I want to tease out what appear to be some less visible implications for the Greek educational context. But first a quick overview of what CLIL is…

What is CLIL?

CLIL involves the dual teaching of a second or foreign language and a subject matter (such as mathematics or science) in a way that integrates content and language teaching aims. For instance, in the Greek context, CLIL instruction might involve conducting a science lesson in English: the idea is that learners will acquire scientific knowledge and skills (the content), and at the same time they might learn technical vocabulary in English, or practice following instructions and writing lab reports in English.

Extract from an ELT textbook illustrating CLIL
A form of CLIL materials (Think Teen 3, p. 34)

CLIL purists might challenge me on this, but the broad definition above overlaps with several different pedagogical approaches that involve meaning-making with language. Some of these are Content Based Instruction, language immersion programmes, and —if adequately stretched— what Greek education theory calls cross-curricular learning (διαθεματικότητα). There are, naturally, differences in the aims and theoretical frames of reference of each of these approaches, but for the purposes of this post at least, we can disregard any such variation. Besides, anecdotal evidence from the field suggests that Greek teachers are not really purist in the ways they engage with methodology, so it is likely that CLIL in Greece only retains some features of the methodology.

How well does CLIL work?

Although CLIL has attracted a lot of academic attention, inside and outside Greece, it is probably fair to say that the empirical substantiation of its outcomes is still rather slim. That is to say, educators are asked to place a lot of  faith on CLIL but, so far, we really have no conclusive evidence that it delivers what it promises, in either the subject matter or language skills. There are a few studies that suggest some connection between CLIL and enhanced receptive skills, greater vocabulary range, creativity, risk-taking, and better affective outcomes. It is unclear however, if these effects are universal or if they reflect the higher socioeconomic status of students in the elite schools that offer CLIL courses.

On the other hand, there is also evidence that CLIL leads to uneven motivation and to reduced participation from some learners. It also seems that, in some cases at least, teachers tend to simplify the subject matter content to match the learners’ unsophisticated linguistic resources. Moreover, there is also evidence that the slower rate of linguistic development in the students’ first language(s) counterbalances any gains in the foreign language.

Why CLIL?
The unstated rationale

Within the Greek context, it is easy to see how interest in CLIL dovetails with stated policy aims to enhance the status of the English language, and —by extension— to protect and enhance the role of the English Language Teaching (ELT) apparatus.

More ELT lessons…

Over the past years, there have been suggestions by senior politicians that English should become a ‘second official language’. A powerful symbolic move towards that direction happened when the domain name of the Ministry of Education switched from the Greek-derived ‘www.ypepth.gr’ to ‘www.minedu.gov.gr‘.

Soon afterwards, there was a 33% increase in the provision for English language instruction across the curriculum, to the great delight of the English teachers’ lobby. You can read more about this increase, and how it was later rolled back, in Chapter 1 of my book, A Language School as a Complex System).

…for students who do not need them

What complicates such planning, however, is that many students appear to already have very high linguistic proficiency in English, which they gain through self-study and private instruction. These skills call into question the utility of the traditional ELT instruction which the state education system offers. Not to put too fine a point to it, the enhanced teaching provision that the ELT apparatus is pushing for is redundant for the majority of students.

Traditional ELT courses in Greek schools are redundant.
CLIL provides a rationale for keeping them in place.

In view of this, a pressing question emerges: Is it ethically or economically justifiable to continue to offer —let alone increase— mandatory ELT courses that do not serve any apparent linguistic need? To put it in even blunter terms: whose interests do we serve when the state system channels students into mandatory, yet unnecessary, language courses?

In the past, ELT policymakers would try to answer such questions, in a not so convincing way, by evoking nebulous pedagogical aims, like an ‘intercultural ethos of understanding’. These —we were told, with a wink— are best fostered through language learning, preferably ELT. Conveniently, such outcomes were also quire hard to observe, let alone measure.

It doesn’t take a cynic to understand that the sudden interest for CLIL in Greece is quite likely the product of a similar agenda. The difference, it seems, is that the revised discourse now showcases tangible learning outcomes, because these are more in pace with the present economic duress and prevailing neoliberal ethos.

Road Sign indicating a pedestrian crossing near a school in Greece
Photo by Ιωάννης Πρωτονοτάριος, CC BY-SA

Can it be it that simple?

If the state school system has decided to protect the ELT apparatus by introducing CLIL in Greece, then any discussion of the ethical and political implications associated with this decision is a moot point. However, I do wish to problematise a number of salient practical issues that some seem to keen to gloss over. Specifically, I will look into three questions:

  1. Which school subjects lend themselves to combination with English to form CLIL courses?
  2. Why must we assume that ELT teachers are, by default, the most suitable people to teach CLIL?
  3. How does CLIL in Greece interact with the local linguistic ecologies?

Are all subjects suitable for CLIL?

When it comes to teaching CLIL, the Greek ELT apparatus has enthusiastically expanded all over the curriculum. For instance, a recently published collection of proposed and implemented CLIL projects, appears to suggest that one can combine English with a wide range of subjects, ranging from PE to geography, in primary and secondary education.

What is conspicuously absent from these publications, and our professional discourse more broadly, is any serious debate of how such projects achieve integration. In other words, there is very little information about how the teachers who designed these projects integrate aims and methods from the linguistic and content areas. Equally lacking is some discussion of what criteria we should use to judge how successful this integration, or the project, is.

From this, one might infer that it was not pedagogical considerations that grounded combination of English and content areas. Rather, the ELT apparatus appears keen to take over any subject as long as it serves its interests, regardless of pedagogical suitability or actual learner needs.

Who should teach CLIL courses?

The prevailing methodological orthodoxy in Greek ELT is that only language specialists should deliver CLIL courses, both in primary and secondary education. This is an odd claim: why should an English teacher be more suitable than a linguistically qualified generalist to teach maths in first grade? What make English teachers more suitable than science teachers to conduct chemistry experiments safely?

This preference, some argue, reflects “the foreign language specialisation and qualifications of CLIL instructors” (Matthaoudakis & Alexiou 2017: 112). What this argument conceals, however, is that teaching involves complex pedagogical knowledge and skill, and that the policy devalues the specialisation and qualifications of other teachers. It might therefore be more accurate to argue that, more than anything else, this argument reflects the power of the ELT apparatus.

Of course, it is not at all self-evident that this is the only, or best, division of labour when it comes do delivering CLIL courses. Ideally, CLIL teachers should have with dual qualifications and training into how to integrate the fields. In the absence of such expertise, one would argue that a linguistically qualified ‘content’ teacher is just as (in)effective as a language teacher who is broadly familiar with the ‘content’ (e.g. maths, history or science). On the short term, this means that ELT teachers have to play nice and share.

On the long run, serious thought must be given about how professional development should be designed for teachers who want to deliver CLIL. Is it easier to train subject-specialists so that they can help students attain linguistic aims? Or does it make more sense to language teachers with the pedagogical content knowledge required to teach a diverse range of subjects? Given the diversity of possible topic areas which one might combine with English, the former seems like a more efficient option.

And what about L1s?

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, we need to reflect very seriously about the effects that CLIL projects may have on local linguistic ecologies. It hardly needs saying that any resources that students invest in learning a subject through a foreign language come at the expense of their native language. This creates two dangers:

To begin with, it is not at all unlikely that CLIL instruction leads to an atrophy of the students’ ability to engage with certain subjects in Modern Greek. At minimum, we need to ensure that technical vocabulary is taught in Modern Greek as well as English. The only two options I can think of are: (a) parallel delivery of both Greek-medium and CLIL courses, which creates duplication and redundancy; or (b) alternate delivery of Greek-medium and CLIL courses, e.g., every other year, which creates incoherence and discontinuity. Neither makes much sense.

The second danger relates to the academic progress of linguistically disadvantaged students. It is unclear how suitable CLIL courses are for students who are not native speakers of Modern Greek: those who are fluent in English may find it easier to engage with content in that language; those who are not, and who have to invest a lot of time mastering Modern Greek, might might find that their linguistic disadvantages lead to content deficits as well. Students from lower socioeconomic backgrounds will likely face similar challenges. In the Greek education system, extracurricular support is one of the main determinants of success. However, parents who are not fluent in English and who cannot afford extracurricular tuition in a foreign language may find their ability to support their children compromised.

To sum up…

In summary, a sudden interest appears to have developed in exploring the pedagogical affordances of CLIL in Greece, as they relate to ELT. This interest is, in my opinion, related to a protectionist agenda that serves the interests of the Greek ELT apparatus. However, the pedagogical implications of implementing CLIL in the Greek context remain largely unexplored and may be nefarious.

The pedagogical implications of CLIL in Greece remain largely unexplored and may be nefarious

In recent years, the enthusiasm of the English Language Teaching apparatus has generated a number of projects of dubious value, including the introduction of English to Very Young Learners, the attempt to salvage a commercially unsuccessful examination suite by latching it onto compulsory education, and the publication of a scandalously expensive but largely under-exploited Language Portfolio. One can only hope that this new fad will be given more serious thought before being ushered into practice.


About this post: This post was originally written in December 2012, when I was working in the Greek education system. It was revised in September 2018, at which point: (a) I added information from a Special Issue in Research Papers in Language Teaching and Learning; (b) the section on problems was expanded; and (c) the title and URL were changed to their current form. Additional copy-editing took place in January 2020 and January 2024 (spelling, gender-neutral language).

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