MFL GCSE Results 2026: Green Shoots of Regrowth for Languages?

Late August always brings its usual flurry of exam news. And for the first time in a while, this year’s Modern Foreign Languages (MFL) GCSE results feel like a genuine milestone. This summer’s cohort was the first to sit exams under the newly overhauled specifications for French, German and Spanish — a shift that, not without controversy, moved the focus away from broad topics and towards mastering a prescribed vocabulary list of 1,700 words.

So how did the new exams land, and what do the numbers actually tell us about the health of language learning in the UK?

Spanish Keeps Its Crown

The headline from this year’s entry data is a changing of the guard, now well and truly cemented. After Spanish overtook French as the most popular language GCSE last year, the 2026 figures show it consolidating that lead further.

  • Spanish keeps climbing, helped along by its practicality and cultural reach — everything from Latin pop to La Liga gives students a reason to care.
  • German offered a bit of hope for once. After years of worrying decline, entries have stabilised – nothing to throw a party over, but a genuinely welcome sign for Germanists.
  • French, sadly, remains the one losing ground, dropping again relative to Spanish. The Guardian’s editorial on the 2026 results put it well: the decline of “traditional” school languages is an alarming trend that risks turning language learning into a preserve of the affluent.

The Grades: A Welcome Turnaround

One of the biggest worries heading into 2026 was whether the new, vocabulary-heavy specs might cause a dip in attainment while teachers and students found their feet. Thankfully, the transition has gone about as smoothly as anyone could have hoped.

Top grades have held remarkably steady – credit to hard-working teachers, for sure, but also to the grading adjustments Ofqual introduced a few years back to stop marking French and German more harshly than other subjects. Language advocates campaigned for years against MFL being graded more severely than other EBacc subjects, and it’s genuinely satisfying to see that finally paying off.

  • Across German, French and Spanish, the share of students hitting grade 7+ has held up well against the national average.
  • And there’s been no spike in ‘U’ grades among Higher Tier candidates — a good sign the new papers are fair and accessible, not a nasty surprise waiting to happen.

Next Up: Cracking the A-Level Problem

The drop in GCSE entries overall is still a real problem the sector needs to grapple with — but there’s plenty to be optimistic about here. The new specs have bedded in safely, and the old “languages get marked too harshly” narrative is finally losing its grip.

The next challenge is turning this GCSE momentum into A-Level uptake, which is notoriously hard given how expensive small sixth-form language classes are to run. But there are some genuinely clever ideas emerging — the ‘Languages For All’ initiative, a partnership between The Reach Foundation and Royal Holloway, is a good one to watch.

Rather than leaving individual schools to fight their own funding battles, the initiative sets up collaborative ‘hubs’ where schools and colleges pool teachers, resources and centrally taught classes. The results from their Hounslow pilot speak for themselves: between 2022 and 2025, the number of state schools offering A-Level languages tripled, from four to twelve, and enrolments doubled.

For anyone working in languages education, this year offers a solid, encouraging foundation to build on. With fairer grading at GCSE and scalable, resource-sharing models proving themselves at A-Level, there might just be a new blueprint for persuading more students to keep languages going into higher education and beyond.

Vintage TV set for franchise hopping! Image by FreeImages.com

Target Language TV for Titters : Amazon’s Last One Laughing

I’ve long been a fan of highly exportable TV show franchises as ‘authentic target language with stabilisers’ media for learners. The language is rich and colloquial, but the format is familiar enough to be more accessible to L2 speakers than other TV genres.

Well, I’ve recent discovered another one that is available in a wonderfully broad array of languages. It’s Amazon Prime’s Last One Laughing, the show where comedians vie to keep straight faces in an onslaught of silliness, and be the very last to crack up.

It’s a simple concept, and for sure, it’s simple, cheap telly. That’s probably why Amazon found it so easy to roll it out to so many different language settings. All you need is a studio and a bunch of comedians willing to act daft. The result? Last One Laughing has local versions in languages from mainstream French and Spanish to more niche learner langs like Dutch and Norwegian.

Good TV Fit for Learners

In terms of the language, the show is a curiously good fit for L2 learners. The improvised dialogue can be slow and deliberate, as the contestants try to out-pun each other. It can often have a touch of the bizarre and clownish about it, too, which is always good to keep learners on their context toes (did she really just say her brother was a fish?).

(Pop-)Culturally, too, it’s a winner. If you didn’t know much about the comedy scene in your target language countries before, then you certainly will after a few episodes. The guests are fresh, current TV faces that give a good sample of who’s popular right now where your language is spoken.

If you’re looking for some target language listening fun, then Last One Laughing is both great learning material and just good TV. Well worth a punt if you have Prime.

A sign for the internet. TikTok, this way! Image from FreeImages.com

Have a Break? Have a TikTok!

I’m always looking for five-minute language learning boosters here and there. If you’ve missed the hundred and one other times I’ve been saying it (I blame the excitement), I’ve been a bit busy of late. And it’s at our busiest moments that we need a bit of that quick fix magic.

Cue…. TikTok. Those who still resist, I hear your groans. I must admit that I was a bit late to TikTok myself, a reluctant infinity-scroller. I’m probably a little off its target demographic, too, although the great and mystic algorithm tends to take care of that, and pen you in with like-minded folk.

But once that (granted, a little unsettling) read-your-mind hocus pocus had happened, my For You tab was filled with a stream of mini language lessons. Some decidedly better than others, of course; TikTok’s a very mixed bag. But some content creators are churning out admirably witty and thoughtful learning snippets you won’t find in the textbooks.

Many of these are just clear, plain facts, delivered with welcome simplicity. But the best are done with a dash of humour, and since that gets the likes, there are more and more of them popping up. It’s the self-motivated, individual creators, rather than the big, organisational accounts, that are best at this, and subsequently the most personable and fun to fill your feed with.

Here’s a selection of some of my favourite TikTok lingua-creators!

French

The epitome of short and snappy, @Madame_angol’s videos feature all sorts of vocab and grammar tidbits. On the other hand, if it’s a bit of Québecois you’re after, @french.canadian.nicolas exudes francophone cool from every pore.

German

You can tell the dedicated from the dabbling content creators straight away, and @germanwithniklas is firmly in the former camp. He has loads of fun content, and post reassuringly regularly. Similarly, for a dash of German everyday life and language, @liamcarps is worth a gander.

Spanish

A language teacher that just gets 30-second humour, @patry.ruiz stands head and shoulders above most of the Spanish content creators on TikTok. Another favourite, covering loads of mainstream classroom topics, is @learnspanishathome. Solid, but plenty of laughs too!

Best of the Rest

I’d be here all day if I could cover everything in a short post like this. But other favourites include @caldamac, who features a mix of Gaelic and wholesome outdoorsy content. Then there’s @seamboyseam, who could put together a whole comedy show with his material on the Irish language. Seriously worth a look even if you have a passing interest in the language.

TikTok Back Control

Of course, the quick fix element is a moot point if you don’t control the beast. Pruning and honing your social media is a vital skill to avoid scrollsome insanity. But if you hold the reins, and carefully fashion the TikTok behemoth to your own needs, it can really help bridge those busy weeks.

What are your go-to micro-lesson accounts? Let us know in the comments!

Incidentally, feel free to follow @richardwestsoley! I’m no master TikTokker myself, but it would be lovely to spot some of you there.

A dog with big ears. Phonotactics is what governs which sounds sound 'right' together in a language. Image from freeimages.com

Phonotactics Physio : When Sounds Sound Wrong

If there’s one thing I’ve learned on my ongoing linguistics adventure, it’s that there’s a fancy word for everything in science, and linguistics is no exception. Welcome, phototactics (from Greek, roughly sound arranging).

The phonotactics of a language govern how different sounds fit together within it: which can occur next to each other, which can start a word, which can end one, and so on. It’s thanks to the phonotactics of English, for example, that we don’t have words like ngrasn.

Unsurprisingly, then, it’s always fun and games when the phonotactics of your native language square up against those of your target language.

Phonotactic Fallout

Mismatched phonotactics result in the distinctive features of often stereotyped non-native accents. For instance, Spanish-speaking learners of English will often first add an e- before words beginning with sp- and st-. The reason? The phonotactics of Spanish don’t allow those combinations word-initially, so they’re anathema to Spanish ears. By contrast, cognates of English sp- and st- words in Spanish already have that e- built in: especial, especie, and even España itself.

Similarly, English learners of Modern Greek might have issues with particular clusters of sounds. The word mortal, for example, is θνητός (thnitós). When was the last time you heard an English word containing thn, at the start, middle or even end? Less alien is perhaps Greek ξ (ks), as there are plenty of English examples containing it: box, exit, exaggerate. In Greek, however, it very commonly occurs at the start of a word; ξέρω (ksero, I know), ξέχασα (ksehasa, I forgot), ξυπνώ (ksipno, I wake up). Early learners of Greek are often tempted to add a quick little schwa vowel between the sounds, like kǝsero for ‘ksero. The initial ks is so strange to English ears that we pronounce Greek borrowing ξυλόφωνο (ksylophone) as ‘zylophone’ to pander to our own phonotactics.

Phonotactics Physio

So how to cope with wildly different phonotactics in your target language?

Getting used to creating sounds unusual in your native language involves training muscle memory. Physio for phonotactics, if you will. That means practising individual words, as well as undertaking more involved speech tasks like shadowing.

It also helps to identify cases where your native language does come pretty close to the target language sound, noting that it might happen between words rather than within them. Take a couple of Polish words thrust into the topical limelight recently: szczepionka (vaccine) and szczepić (to vaccinate). That initial szcz, or /ʂt͡ʂ/ as Wiktionary so accurately puts it, simply doesn’t occur within any single word in English. The closest English gets is with broadly similar sounds across word boundaries, like wash cherries. But say that out loud a few times, concentrating on the sh_ch, and you get an idea of Polish szcz that you can transfer to your Polish pronunciation.

Tackle such words repeatedly, enlisting the help of your iTalki tutor or similar in topical chat related to them. Gradually, you will start building up a target language phonotactics  that doesn’t depend on your own native language judgements.

 

The Spanish flag

Resurrecting Spanish : How Old Languages Never Really Die

I’m writing this post, rather excitingly, from sunny Valencia. Yes, cheap EasyJet city breaks have returned! And this brief Spanish jaunt is particularly pertinent, as it’s my first trip overseas since the pandemic started. A promising sign the world is opening up again, and I’m filled with gratitude at that. Monumental.

It’s also notable for being my long-overdue to Spain – and to Spanish.

I’m going back to my roots with this one. Spanish was one of the first languages I chose to learn (rather than have chosen for me by the school curriculum). As a young school lad, I started learning with the long-forgotten BBC textbook España Viva in readiness for a holiday with my mum. The (distinctly 80s-ish) pictures of Spanish day life piqued my appetite to experience it for myself, to immerse myself, to connect with it. And what a thrill it was – that trip is one of my earliest memories of the pure joy of communicating in a foreign language.

Spanish Steps

By coincidence not long afterwards, my school laid on a special “spare time”, two-year after-school GCSE Spanish course for keen linguists, probably to gain a well-needed GCSE league table boost. I lapped it up, and then just kept it going – all the way to college and university. I was Rich, the German and Spanish scholar. It was part of my identity, what people knew me as.

But then, I graduated – and Spanish stopped.

Of course, the signs were there that I was drifting away from the Hispanic. My Spanish had always played second fiddle – albeit a loud one – to German at university. Although I loved studying the language, I chose to spend my year abroad in Austria as I wanted so ardently to study the dialects there. Then, after finals, I fell straight into a German-speaking job.

I had no Spanish-speaking friends, no contacts in Spain, and no real footholds in Spanish pop culture to keep it regularly in my life. And with each passing year that separated me from uni, I found fewer and fewer reasons to keep running with it. Even after retraining as a teacher, the only jobs I could find with my stronger German were teaching it alongside French, not Spanish. Ironically, that very poor third-placed French of mine became more important for work than the language I spoke, once upon a time, quite fluently. It seemed like my Spanish was doomed to oblivion.

But then, Valencia – and it was like an old friend turning up on my doorstep after years apart.

Practising my Spanish on market day in ValenciaPractising my Spanish on market day in Valencia!

Why do we let go of languages?

As my story shows, our connection to language may wax and wane for all sorts of reasons. It may just be, as with me, that life takes you in a different direction. There could also be cultural, or political reasons that your target language country no longer feels like a home from home.

On the other hand, external forces can nudge us, too. Knockbacks from others, like unforgiving native speakers in the real world (as opposed to the cocoon of education), can frustrate the effort to keep up your level. I remember feeling horribly deflated when told that my Spanish accent was “a bit non-native” in some recordings I did for a language game in the mid-noughties. Just as well I have my German, I thought. When feedback isn’t coming from a tactful, supportive teacher, the no-frills nature of real-life feedback can feel barbed.

Going Easy on Yourself

That said, I was probably taking myself far too seriously, back then. I’m supposed to be good at Spanish, I told myself. If my accent is bad after years of study, what’s the point? And it’s exactly that kind of destructive perfectionism that can wreck our relationship with a language, too.

Thankfully, time has tempered that perfectionist streak. Back in Spain, I don’t feel that pressure to be good because I’m supposed to be! any more. And, with a more relaxed approach, I’ve found Spanish coming back to me more than willingly.

And guess what? Nobody commented on my funny accent. Everybody understood me. And I understood them back.

I might just have rekindled that old friendship.

In many ways, it’s hardly surprising that a trip abroad reawakens an old passion for a language. The excitement of on-the-ground immersion is what keeps many of us fuelled. But it’s worth remembering that old languages never die; they’re just off doing other things, waiting for you to get back in touch in your own time.