Whenever people talk about accreditation, the assumption is that there must be a gatekeeper. An authority. Someone to decide what counts and what doesn’t.
And in some areas, that’s true — and necessary.
Where gatekeepers are essential
If you’re a doctor, a pilot, or an air traffic controller, the stakes are high. Quality control isn’t optional. Regulation is essential.
The same goes for finance, defence, and security. In these sectors, there are clear standards. Criteria are defined. Competence can be measured.
That’s why an AWS Cloud Engineer is validated by AWS itself. The standard is theirs to define, and they set the bar.
In tightly bounded fields, regulation works.
Bureaucracy for bureaucracy’s sake
But outside these areas, gatekeeping quickly becomes bureaucracy. Forms to fill in. Boxes to tick. Committees to review material not because they understand it better, but because it keeps their system alive.
And it raises a real question: what purpose does it serve?
If AWS, Google, or Microsoft don’t need a third party to validate their training, why should a small training provider have to submit their intellectual property to someone else’s filing cabinet?
In fact, anecdotal evidence suggests that in some countries, providers have even seen their materials copied and repackaged by the very organisations claiming to “approve” them. Even when that’s not the case, the risk is obvious: once you hand over your content, you lose control.
Why would any organisation with real expertise outsource its credibility — and its content — to someone who adds nothing beyond a stamp?
When regulation tries to cover everything
Belgium provides a cautionary tale. In parts of its adult education system, every module must be tied to a government-approved profile. On paper, it sounds like quality control. In practice, it’s bureaucracy on overdrive — trying to catalogue and approve every form of learning.
But education isn’t static. Skills change, jobs change, technology changes. The attempt to regulate everything ends up regulating nothing. Providers bypass the system, learners disengage, and the framework collapses under its own weight.
It’s like trying to drain the sea with a teaspoon.
The false comfort of middle ground
This is where confusion sets in. Many assume there must be a referee somewhere, a judge to say what is “good” or “bad” training.
But outside a handful of regulated sectors, there is no referee. And bureaucracy dressed up as accreditation doesn’t create one — it only creates delay, cost, and risk.
The only real option: transparency
If we can’t rely on gatekeepers, what’s left? Transparency.
- Clear aims, skills, and outcomes.
- Proof of what was taught and by whom.
- Verifiable records learners can share and employers can trust.
This doesn’t decide whether the training was “good” or “bad.” It makes the evidence visible, so others can judge for themselves.
That’s what self-accreditation really is: not a free-for-all, but a transparent system that replaces bureaucracy with clarity.
Closing thought
The world is already splitting in two: highly regulated domains where standards are fixed, and everything else — messy, dynamic, fast-moving.
In the first, gatekeepers are essential. In the second, they’re impossible.
Which is why self-accreditation isn’t just a convenience. It’s inevitable. Because lifelong learning doesn’t stop for red tape.
About the Author
Marta Kalas is the Founder & CEO of Open CPD, where she is transforming how training and events gain recognition and credibility. With over 25 years of experience in healthcare and technology, she combines practical insights with a mission to make accreditation accessible, flexible, and impactful.
She also writes The Recognition Gap, her personal LinkedIn newsletter on lifelong learning, CPD certificates, and digital badges.
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