Stanley Ipkiss: The Teacher behind The Mask
The Ipkiss Effect: The Masking of Underperformance.
You might recognise the name from the 1994 film The Mask, where Stanley Ipkiss, a bank clerk, finds a magical mask that transforms him into a wild, unfiltered version of himself. Loud, unpredictable, theatrical. But underneath? Still the same insecure man, hiding behind performance.
In schools, we sometimes encounter a similar figure, not in green face paint, but in their behaviour. This is the teacher who shifts the moment the lesson begins. The voice changes, the energy ramps up suddenly, they’re performing. In staff briefings, they’re quick with a joke; in CPD, they dominate the room with confidence. Students love them. But behind the mask? Things unravel. Deadlines are missed. Routines are shaky. Follow-through is inconsistent. They quietly depend on others to pick up the pieces colleagues who reteach, correct, or cover without complaint. And when challenged, they deflect. Always busy. Always about to do the thing. But it never arrives.
Stanley charms their way through inconsistency: “It’s a tough group,” or “I just do things differently.” They build strong relationships with students but without structure. They make promises to parents they don’t deliver on but the charm works. “It’s Stanley,” they say. And the excuses continue.
Psychologist Tessa West, in her book Jerks at Work, outlines two workplace types that perfectly merge in the character of Stanley Ipkiss: the free rider, who contributes little but stays protected by popularity, and the gaslighter, who distorts reality to dodge responsibility. My version of Stanley Ipkiss is both. They don’t follow systems, avoid accountability, yet manage to convince everyone they’re doing a great job. West’s research shows this combination is especially damaging free riders drain teams, while gaslighters corrode trust. In a school setting, that becomes culture erosion wrapped in charisma exactly the Ipkiss effect
Performance and social capital
When schools reward performance over consistency, Stanley Ipkiss thrives and the damage starts to show in all the places that matter.
This kind of performative culture is seductive. Kids are entertained. SLT laugh in corridors. Parents hear about this “great, passionate” teacher. But learning isn’t about charisma it’s about cognitive development. As Robert Coe argues, there’s often a dangerous gap between what students enjoy and what they actually learn. Teachers can appear busy, and students can appear engaged but without clarity, modelling, and practice, actual learning is minimal.
In one school I worked in, I saw this firsthand. The “most loved” teacher in the building hilarious, fun, loud had the worst student outcomes by miles. When I stepped into their lessons as a middle leader, I could barely follow what was being taught. Books were light. Routines changed daily. Yet no one challenged it. They had so much social capital that any critique felt dangerous.
This is what happens when culture bends to charisma. The message becomes: performance is enough. Systems are optional. When we allow personality to outweigh professionalism, we don’t just let standards slip we damage the people who are holding them up.
The teacher quietly delivering every day structured lessons, clear routines, relationships built with boundaries starts to feel invisible. Worse, they start to question whether what they’re doing even matters. Why follow policy when others don’t? Why hold the line when charisma gets rewarded? It creates resentment. Exhaustion. Disengagement.
In toxic team cultures, this is amplified by social capital the influence and protection a person holds due to their popularity, perceived loyalty, or historic contributions. Research in organisational psychology shows that when social capital is unevenly distributed or unearned, it breeds imbalance. Teams start to orbit around one powerful individual. Their needs dominate. Their behaviour sets the tone.
Research from Daniels (2008) shows that teacher burnout isn’t just about workload it’s about perceived unfairness. When high-performing staff feel held to a higher standard while others coast, emotional exhaustion spikes. The work feels thankless. They begin to withdraw, not because they don’t care, but because they no longer feel seen or valued. In environments like this, the culture erodes quietly not through chaos, but through quiet disillusionment.
If we want healthy teams, fair expectations, and real consistency, we need to recognise that charisma without accountability is a risk.
The perfect conditions for a Stanley to survive
Stanley Ipkiss can slip through the cracks for years not because no one cares, but because too many people are focused on their corner of the map.
Middle leaders often operate in a subject-first mindset. Their world is smaller: cover lessons, protect morale, secure results. And when your focus is on just keeping your department afloat, it’s easy to miss the bigger cultural drift happening within it.
I’ve seen it again and again, even from some of the most respected middle leaders. And it forces the question: what do we mean by “good middle leaders”? Is it a happy staff? Strong data? It’s both but it’s also about alignment. The best middle leaders are loyal not just to their subject but to the school’s values. They challenge inconsistency, they model school-wide expectations, and they don’t excuse poor practice just because someone is “nice” or “busy.”
What frustrates me is when middle leadership becomes about guarding rather than leading. When the aim is to shield their team from whole-school expectations, rather than support the school’s vision. That’s when people like Stanley Ipkiss thrive, drifting under the radar, unchallenged, for years.
It’s the job of senior leaders to change that. SLT needs to bring middle leaders into the heart of the culture to make it clear their responsibility isn’t just curriculum, cover and outcomes, but alignment. That means being confident enough to say, This means holding the line even when it’s uncomfortable.
How to fix and challenge Stanley Ipkiss
Stanley Ipkiss is usually wearing armour, stitched together from humour, charm, and avoidance. It looks like confidence, but it’s protection. Behind it is often someone quietly struggling with low self-worth, imposter syndrome, anxiety, or a chaotic inner world they don’t quite know how to manage. And so, they perform. But a school is not a stage, and students don’t need a character, they need a teacher. That’s why growth has to start with the mask coming off.
Challenging a Stanley Ipkiss is never straightforward. We now know these are people with social capital and often a deeper reach into the staffroom than you have. The key is to approach it with clarity, consistency, and calm authority.
Start with evidence. Ipkiss thrives in the abstract. If your feedback is vague “you’re a bit inconsistent” or “we just need more from you” it gives them space to perform, deflect, or emote their way out. Instead, make the invisible visible. Come with specifics: missed deadlines, lack of behaviour logging, drop-in notes, or CPD tasks not completed. When you present clear, traceable facts, the mask starts to slip.
Be deliberate. This isn’t about who they are in the staffroom or how much students like them, it's about what actually happens in the classroom. Be deliberate in naming that. This is about consistency. About delivery. About following through on what matters. Stanley thrives in blurred lines when performance is mistaken for impact. So your job is to draw the line clearly. Don’t let the conversation drift into emotion or intent. Stay rooted in what’s been seen, what hasn’t been done, and what now needs to happen.
Be deliberate in tone too. Stay flat, stay factual. Stanley may try to shift the mood become defensive, turn on the charm, or pivot into victim mode. That’s part of the mask. Don’t engage with the theatre. Stick to the system.
Once you’ve called it, help them rebuild but on your terms. This doesn’t mean you write their lessons or excuse poor routines, but you can offer practical support. Show you’re invested in improvement, but don’t let them mistake your warmth for weakness.
And finally and this is the bit that matters most you have to hold the line. Ipkiss will test your boundaries. They’ll charm, distract, apologise dramatically, or promise better. It will be tempting to ease off especially when things appear better on the surface. Don’t. Follow up. Monitor. Document. Make the expectations so clear they can’t be misinterpreted. Let your line management speak louder than their likability.
Key Takeaways
Big energy doesn’t guarantee impact.
No one should be above shared routines, expectations, and policies.
Popularity can mask real underperformance, especially when left unchallenged.
When influence replaces standards, the quiet, consistent teachers lose faith and teams fracture over time.
A great Head of Department backs the school’s vision, not just their subject’s outcomes.
Kindness and consistency can co-exist.