Nope, this isn't Prince Harry's second book, it was Wednesday, day 2 of a full Ofsted inspection.
I turned to a colleague, half joking, half serious, and said:
"I feel like a spare part."
Because by that point, Ofsted didn’t really need anything from me. They’d seen the systems. They’d talked to the people. They’d looked at the data. They’d followed the evidence trail, and it led exactly where we said it would.
And for the first time that week, I had a moment to breathe. Just for a second.
This blog is about that moment, what it meant, what it told me, and why, if you're in that position as a nominee, it's probably a good sign.
Now let me be clear: every inspection is different. Some nominees are called on constantly. Some are looped into everything. I was ready for that.
But by Day 2, things were... quiet.
We had prepped everything well in advance:
Safeguarding evidence was already tested, triangulated and transparent.
Curriculum intent was built into schemes, staff development, learner experience.
Our SAR told the truth, clearly - and our QIP tracked action and impact.
Data was live, not retrospective. It told a story before we were even asked.
So what did they need from me? Not much. Because what needed to be seen had already been seen.
And that’s when I realised: this is the goal.
Not to be invisible, but to be unnecessary. To be part of a system strong enough to speak for itself - was something really special.
I won’t pretend I knew for certain on Wednesday that we’d get Outstanding. But I knew we were in the running.
Inspectors were relaxed. Staff weren’t being pushed or cornered, they were having genuine conversations. No new radical documentation was being requested (if anything the requests that afternoon were quite abstract and more around our extra curricular activities). No deep dives had been extended, even after I offered more. No panic. No surprises.
I wasn't luck. It was preparation meeting culture.
When you’ve embedded your values into systems and supported your people to own the story, you get a different kind of inspection experience. One where the evidence already lives in the rooms Ofsted walk into.
The moment it truly landed for me was Thursday afternoon.
Inspectors confirmed there were no additional areas for enquiry.
That’s rare.
Usually there’s something, an area they want to probe a little deeper, a strand they want to test further. But in our case, they were satisfied. They had what they needed. They’d seen the impact. And they trusted the narrative.
That’s when I let myself think, we’ve done it.
(Not that I let that show on my face - or at least I don't think I did). You don’t celebrate early. You nod. You thank them. And you go back to triple-checking safeguarding logs just in case - I joke, but you get the idea.
But internally? I knew.
Being a nominee isn’t about having all the answers, it’s about making sure the answers exist across the organisation.
By Day 2, I wasn’t "needed" because the curriculum leads could articulate their why. Tutors could describe their impact. Learners could explain what success felt like. Governance knew the risks and the plans. Our systems worked without theatre.
And that’s the win.
If you’re preparing for inspection and your biggest fear is not being ready for questions, you’re asking the wrong question.
Ask instead:
Will our evidence speak for itself?
Do our people feel confident and safe sharing their story?
Have we built a system that stands up, even when no one is presenting it?
Because that’s what Outstanding looks like. It’s not loud. It’s not performative. Sometimes, it feels like being a spare part on Day 2.
And that’s exactly where you want to be.
Want support preparing for inspection in a way that builds confidence and calm, not chaos and cramming? That’s what I help providers do. Let’s talk.