Involution Labs

Tag: learning

  • Education and the Fear of Thinking

    Education is often described as the foundation of a healthy society. Politicians praise it, parents worry about it, and schools are expected to shape the next generation into capable adults. Yet the question we rarely ask is a simple one:

    Does our education system actually encourage thinking?

    In many ways, modern schooling rewards the opposite.

    Education as a system of obedience

    In Ireland, the Leaving Certificate and the CAO system determine much of a student’s future. A single set of exams decides which university course a student can enter and often what career path becomes possible. The result is predictable: students learn how to play the exam game.

    Instead of exploring ideas, questioning assumptions, or making intellectual mistakes, students become experts at recognising patterns in past papers and reproducing expected answers. Success is measured not by curiosity or creativity, but by how well someone can memorise and perform under pressure.

    The system produces excellent test-takers. It does not necessarily produce independent thinkers.

    Other countries have taken a different approach. Finland, for example, emphasises creativity, collaboration, and flexible educational pathways. Students are encouraged to experiment, question, and even fail. In such systems, mistakes are treated as part of learning rather than evidence of failure.

    The contrast reveals something deeper than educational policy. It reveals different attitudes toward risk and authority.

    Fear as a motivational tool

    Schools often rely on fear to maintain discipline and motivate students. Children are told that if they do not work hard enough, they will fail in life. Sometimes the warnings are even more dramatic: that they will end up unemployed, addicted to drugs or living under a bridge.

    Many teachers believe they are motivating students. But fear is a dangerous tool. Some children respond with compliance, but others respond with anxiety, perfectionism or despair.

    A child who is constantly worried about failure does not learn freely. Instead, they learn to avoid mistakes at all costs.

    When fear becomes the underlying emotional atmosphere of education, curiosity slowly disappears.

    The forgotten students: those who feel deeply

    Schools are designed around averages. They assume that children learn in similar ways, at similar speeds, and respond to pressure in similar ways.

    But children are not a homogeneous group.

    Some children are particularly sensitive to their surroundings. They process information deeply, ask difficult questions, and respond strongly to injustice or hypocrisy. These children are often curious and imaginative, but they can also struggle in rigid environments where conformity is rewarded.

    In such systems, sensitivity is often treated as weakness. A child who feels deeply may be told not to be so emotional, not to overthink, not to ask too many questions.

    Over time, many of these children learn a painful lesson: school is a place where they do not fit.

    The myth of “teaching critical thinking”

    Educators frequently claim that schools teach students to think critically. Yet critical thinking cannot simply be taught as a technical skill.

    True criticism requires something deeper: a critical spirit. It requires teachers and students who are willing to question assumptions, debate ideas openly, and tolerate uncertainty.

    In many classrooms, however, students are encouraged to repeat approved perspectives rather than challenge them. Discussions that appear critical sometimes function more like intellectual exercises in conformity.

    When questioning becomes selective, education begins to resemble indoctrination rather than inquiry.

    Education and the courage to think

    A healthy education system should cultivate something far more valuable than exam scores: intellectual courage.

    Students should be encouraged to explore ideas, challenge authorities, and pursue their own interests. They should learn that knowledge is not a set of fixed answers but a continuous process of discovery.

    Most importantly, they should feel safe enough to think freely.

    Education should not train students to memorise the correct answers. It should prepare them to ask better questions.

    Because in a rapidly changing world, the ability to question, adapt, and think independently will always matter more than the ability to pass a test.

  • The Unexpected Calling: Life Taught Me How to Coach

    I never set out to be a trainer, facilitator or coach. In fact, I left school early, unsure of what I was meant to do in life. But years later — after raising children, working across care, tech, and the arts, and returning to education myself — I discovered something surprising: I love helping people learn and grow. Not just the material, but about themselves.

    Over the past decade, I’ve taken courses in communication, mental health, and life coaching to deepen the insight I’ve gained from choosing a different path in life. I’ve been told often, “You should be a teacher,” but I think what people really meant is: “You make others feel understood.”

    That, to me, is the foundation of real learning — being seen, heard, and accepted. Whether someone is 14 or 80, I’ve found that the desire is the same: we want to be understood.

    The traditional school system didn’t make space for that when I was young. I didn’t like school, but I remember the rare teachers who took the time to understand me. Inspired by books like Tuesdays with Morrie, I’ve since reached out to thank them. Because they didn’t just teach me Swedish and English — they made me feel I mattered.

    That’s what I aim to offer others now. Whether I’m coaching, facilitating, or designing a training, my approach is rooted in one belief: understanding people is just as important as knowing the material. When someone feels seen, they’re far more likely to feel safe, ask questions, and learn something new — not just in their minds, but in their lives.

    Too many adults carry a quiet belief that they’re “not smart enough.” That’s rarely true. More often, they were simply misunderstood — taught in a way that didn’t match how they learn. If I can help someone reconnect with their curiosity, or feel good about learning and growing again, that’s enough.