Well, here we go again. Across the pond in France, the youth are out in force, demanding more of other people’s money for their schools. The wire services are buzzing about a quarter-million folks rallying, with police firing tear gas and water cannons. Sounds like a Tuesday in Paris, doesn't it? It’s a familiar scene, one that makes you wonder if these kids ever pick up a history book, let alone a civics lesson.
They’re clamoring for "more education funding," which is always a nice, vague phrase that usually translates to "more money, less accountability." It’s the perennial cry of the young idealist, egged on by the usual suspects who see every grievance as an opportunity to burn a few tires and shout down anyone who disagrees. You’d think by now, after decades of these sorts of spectacles, folks would start asking what exactly all that extra funding is supposed to accomplish, beyond more bureaucratic bloat and a louder echo chamber for the loudest voices.
What’s truly striking is the predictable pattern. Every few years, a new crop of students discovers that protesting is a thing, and suddenly, the streets become their personal stage. They're convinced they’re on the cusp of some grand revolution, when in reality, they’re just repeating the same old song and dance. It’s not about fundamental change; it’s about getting a bigger slice of the pie, often without a clear plan for how that pie got baked in the first place, or who’s going to pay for the next one.
You hear about "thousands of arrests" and "clashes with police," and you have to wonder what the end game is here. Is it better teachers? More textbooks? Or is it just the thrill of the mob, the intoxicating feeling of collective outrage? From where I’m sitting, out here in the heartland, it looks less like a reasoned debate about educational policy and more like a collective tantrum. And frankly, a society that rewards tantrums with concessions is a society that’s heading for trouble.
Edmund Burke, bless his soul, understood the dangers of this kind of revolutionary fervor. He knew that true progress comes not from tearing down institutions in a fit of passion, but from careful, incremental reform built on tradition and prudence. These students, with their demands for immediate gratification and their willingness to disrupt civil order, seem to have missed that particular lecture. They’re chasing after utopian ideals, oblivious to the very real, practical constraints of running a country, let alone a school system.
It’s a stark contrast to how most folks I know approach problems. When something’s not working, you roll up your sleeves, you work within the system, you find solutions that benefit everyone, not just the loudest voices in the room. You don't burn down the barn to protest the price of hay. But that kind of steady, common-sense approach doesn't make for good television, does it? It doesn’t get you headlines or the feeling of being part of something "historic."
So, while the coastal elites and their media outlets might swoon over the "passion" of these young protestors, many of us are just shaking our heads. We’ve seen this movie before. It usually ends with a bigger government bill, more division, and not much in the way of actual improvement. Maybe, just maybe, these students should spend less time in the streets and more time in the library, learning about how societies actually function, instead of how they imagine they should. That would be a real education.