April 1, 2025

A Manifesto for Education

Table of Contents

I’ve been carrying this idea for over two years now. It started as frustration. Then questions. Then a quiet belief that maybe — just maybe — education could feel different. More human. More alive.

This isn’t a business plan. Not yet.
This is the beginning.
A manifesto.
For those of us who never quite fit the system we were born into.


1 — The Problem

What’s broken in education?

Education has been broken for years, and it’s clearer than ever. Today’s students are disengaged—not because they’re lazy, but because the system isn’t built for them. Traditional education is teacher-centric and institution-centric. It’s designed around schedules, curricula, and administrative convenience—not around how students actually learn. It prioritizes delivering information over ensuring understanding.

Traditional education doesn’t prepare you for the life you want.
It prepares you for a 1980s cubicle—standardized, obedient, replaceable. It trains everyone in the same way, with the same knowledge, as if individuality were a bug, not a feature.

It doesn’t nurture unique talents or passions—it molds people into a uniform product, ready for an outdated system.

Traditional education is already obsolete by the time you graduate. Students are stuck studying curriculums written by governments a decade ago. And even if a program is recent, today’s world moves too fast—new tools and technologies emerge monthly, sometimes weekly. That gap is only going to widen. And let’s be honest: governments aren’t built to keep up. They won’t fix it. They can’t.

Where’s the globalization we were promised? Degrees are rarely transferable. What I study in Argentina might be worthless in Canada. Why does engineering take 4 years in one country and 5 in another? Is one better? Unlikely. Still, many companies won’t even look at an “outsider” degree. We’re building region-locked, structured workers—slaves to a system they didn’t choose.

There’s no real freedom. No freedom to learn what you want, how you want, or why you want. Traditional education excludes millions—parents, neurodivergent individuals, people with non-standard lives. If you don’t fit the system’s schedule or expectations, you’re left behind. Not because you can’t learn—but because the system refuses to adapt.

Research shows that most routine or manual jobs correlate with IQ ranges between 85–100. But below that? There are virtually no roles available. None. The system offers nothing for people who don’t fit into its narrow cognitive expectations. It quietly discards them.

And yet—B.F. Skinner taught pigeons to play table tennis. We can train birds to do complex tasks, but we can’t design systems to help people with different abilities find purpose and contribute? Are we really saying they should just give up? That they’re unfit for society?

I refuse to believe that. The problem isn’t them. It’s the system. It was never built for everyone—and that’s exactly what needs to change.

What’s missing in human connection?

Who taught you how to communicate? How to truly understand someone? How to build deep, meaningful relationships? Probably no one.

Traditional education—built to prepare workers for a 1980s cubicle—doesn’t care about relationships. It trains you to follow instructions, not to connect. Socializing in schools happens by accident, not design. And today, even that’s fading.

Kids are growing up more disconnected than ever. They’d rather text than talk. They avoid eye contact. They won’t turn on their cameras in class—not because they’re lazy, but because they’re afraid to be seen.

We’re raising generations who feel more comfortable behind screens than in a room with others. Not because they don’t want connection, but because we’ve never taught them how to build it.

School doesn’t teach emotional intelligence. It doesn’t teach you how to navigate conflict, express vulnerability, or listen with empathy. There are no classes on how to be a good friend, partner, parent, or coworker. And yet—these are the things that shape your entire life.

Instead, kids are graded on memorization and obedience. They’re told to sit still, be quiet, and follow the rules. Feelings are distractions. Emotions are “problems.” Sensitivity is a weakness. The result? Generations of people who can solve equations but can’t process their own feelings—let alone someone else’s.

We leave school knowing how to pass a test, but not how to ask for help. We know how to write an essay, but not how to comfort a friend. We’re emotionally underdeveloped because connection has never been part of the curriculum.

In a future where standards of living keep improving, one thing terrifies me: the rise of depression and emptiness in a world that looks “better” on paper. Because if we keep educating people the same way—without purpose, without connection—we’re raising generations who feel lost, even when they have everything.

People don’t know what they want. They don’t know why they do what they do. Even the most “successful” individuals break down, because they were never taught to understand their emotions, to seek purpose, or to build deep, meaningful relationships.

A lack of purpose is at the core of so many problems—from teenage rebellion to adult burnout. We chase happiness in things, but happiness comes from meaning. From connection. From growth. And somehow, we expect each human to figure all of that out on their own.

But what if they didn’t have to? What if school helped kids discover who they are and why they matter? Imagine the kind of society we’d build if people felt fulfilled from a young age. If they knew themselves. If they knew how to love, listen, and build.

Imagine a world where governments don’t define your worth. Where a student from Israel and a student from Palestine could talk, understand each other, and become friends before society teaches them to hate.

We could build that world. But not with this education system.


1.5 — Even the Disruptors Are Missing the Real Problem

I’ve looked into other companies trying to “fix” education. Some are doing good work. But most are missing the point.

Here are the two biggest problems I see:

1. “Empower Teachers with AI”

Many solutions focus on giving teachers AI tools to boost engagement. But they’re still working within the same broken system. They treat disengagement like a glitch—as if all kids suddenly developed ADHD. They don’t stop to ask why students are disengaged in the first place.

The truth? Kids are bored and disconnected because classes aren’t designed for them. AI won’t fix a teacher-centric system. It’ll just optimize a structure that’s already outdated.

Same system. Same results. Just with more tech.

2. Personalized Learning — But No Human Connection

Some startups are moving in the right direction: personalized learning paths, adaptive content, student-centered design. Great.

But they’re forgetting something critical—human connection.

In removing the physical classroom, they’ve removed the last piece that allowed students to build relationships, even if only by accident. No conversations between classes. No shared struggles. No messy, real-life moments.

The result?

  • Students who are more “educated” than ever—but emotionally underdeveloped.
  • Highly informed—but deeply lonely.
  • Smart—but socially anxious.
  • They know how to absorb content, but not how to connect.

And none of these companies are thinking about that.

It’s well known that Harvard students aren’t necessarily smarter than students from other universities. So why does everyone want to go there?

One word: Networking.

The connections you make are often more valuable than the knowledge you gain. And when you remove or reduce physical classrooms without intentionally designing alternatives, you also erase the social layer that shapes careers, collaboration, and lifelong friendships.

We’re not just at risk of creating better students.
We’re at risk of creating isolated ones.

If we’re serious about building the future of education, we can’t just digitize content—we have to rehumanize the experience.


2 — The vision

What If It Didn’t Have to Be This Way?

What if education wasn’t a fixed system you had to fit into, but a living ecosystem that adapted to you?

What if your curriculum evolved as your mind evolved?

What if your emotions were part of your learning journey—not obstacles to it?

What if the pace of your learning shifted with your energy, your mood, your life?What if the purpose of education wasn’t just to create workers, but to help each person become who they are—and connect with others along the way?

What if the system didn’t just ask, “What do you know?” but also, “What lights you up?” “What are you struggling with?” “What kind of human are you becoming?”

What if education adapted to the unpredictability of life? Why should someone have to stop studying just because they’re becoming a parent?

What if education wasn’t meant to mold people—but to help them unfold?


2.1 — A Learning System That Adapts to the Learner

A learning system that adapts to your time availability, your personality, your preferred way of learning. To the purpose behind your learning, your objectives, your progress, your potential, your curiosity— and your growth as a human being.

I imagine parents studying what they’re passionate about, while still having time for their children and their work. It might take them longer, sure—but now it would be possible.

I imagine people like me—those who enjoy engineering but don’t want to work as engineers—able to follow a learning path that blends creativity, entrepreneurship, and curiosity.

I imagine cognitively challenged people learning how to perform meaningful tasks and being supported into the market. A future where you’re not “disqualified” just because you were born a certain way. A future where you’re allowed to have a future—no matter your IQ, your neurotype, or your genetics.

I imagine a student fascinated by biology who starts studying ecosystems… and as their imagination expands, stumbles into architecture, design, even ethics. And their learning path expands with them—rather than forcing them to start over just because they no longer fit the system’s “plan.”

No more waiting for the semester to start. No more repeating material you already know. No more pretending everyone should learn the same way.


2.2 — A System Where Connection Is a Feature, Not an Accident

Imagine if relationships weren’t accidental. Not something you had to figure out on your own, but something designed into your learning journey from the very beginning.

Not superficial networking. Not forced “group projects” where nobody really talks. But deep, intentional, human connection—woven through the experience of learning itself.

A system that notices when two students are struggling with the same concept—and gently nudges them together.

That recognizes when someone’s curiosity mirrors your own, even if they live halfway across the world. And introduces you before you ever would’ve met.

A system that maps your thinking style, emotional rhythms, and passions—and quietly helps you find others who see the world like you do. Or, sometimes, those who see it differently—but in a way that makes you grow.

Imagine learning in a space where you’re never truly alone. Where your questions echo in someone else’s mind. Where you can say, “I don’t get this,” and someone replies, “Me neither—want to figure it out together?”

Imagine being matched with:

  • Someone who learns the way you do
  • Someone who struggles where you struggle
  • Someone who’s already been where you are—and remembers what it felt like

In this world, connection isn’t a distraction from learning. It’s how you learn. It’s the fuel. The anchor. The bridge that turns isolation into belonging.

Because sometimes, the most powerful thing education can give you… is someone who says, “I understand you.”

And after all—most of the people you now call friends were once just classmates. They sat beside you. Struggled with the same homework. Laughed at the same dumb jokes. Connection didn’t happen because it was designed—it happened in spite of the system.

Now imagine if it was designed. Intentionally. Gently. Powerfully. Not just to teach you subjects—but to help you meet the people who might shape your life.


2.3 — A System About Discovery and Growth, Not Compliance

Education shouldn’t be a race to memorize facts. It shouldn’t measure how obedient you can be, or how well you fit a mold. It was meant to be a mirror. A compass. A door.

A space to explore who you are and what matters to you. To follow ideas that spark something inside you—not just the ones someone else decided were important.

In this system, emotional intelligence is not an afterthought. Reflection is not a break from learning—it is learning. Happiness is not a reward for productivity. It’s a sign that something is aligned. Purpose isn’t something you stumble into after a degree, or midlife, after burnout. It’s something you begin to uncover from the start.

Imagine students who grow up knowing how to ask better questions. Who aren’t afraid to sit with not knowing or failing. Who can name what they feel, what they value, what they’re curious about. Who can connect knowledge with meaning—and meaning with contribution.

Imagine a world where every person has their own rhythm of growth. Where Kaizen—continuous, intentional evolution—isn’t a philosophy you discover in adulthood, but a path you walk from the start.

Education shouldn’t be a factory. It should be a garden.


2.4 — A System That Brings Us Together

Imagine a student in a rural village learning side by side with someone in a major city—not in the same classroom, but in the same journey.

Imagine a space where indigenous knowledge meets quantum physics—and both are treated as valid ways of seeing the world.

Imagine teenagers who know how to sit with discomfort, ask for help, and collaborate across difference.

A world where loneliness is no longer the price of intelligence, as Schopenhauer once feared.

Where neurodivergence isn’t a “special need,” but a source of insight.

Where being different isn’t something to overcome—but something to explore, express, and expand into.

A world where you’re allowed to shape your life in a way that makes sense to you.


3 — The Invitation

Not everyone will understand this.

Some will say it’s too idealistic. Too complicated. Too much.

But if this vision spoke to you— if you’ve ever felt the system wasn’t built for people like you, or that learning should be more human, more soulful, more alive…

Then maybe you’re not here by accident.

Maybe you’re like me. Maybe this idea has been with you for a while—quiet, shapeless, waiting. Maybe you’ve doubted yourself more than once. Wondered if you were the right person to build something this big. Wondered if others would believe in it— or in you.

I’ve been there. I’m still there, sometimes. But I’m choosing to try anyway.

Not because I have all the answers— but because I’ve carried the questions long enough. And I think it’s time we ask them together.

This isn’t just a startup. It’s not just a product. It’s a seed.

A seed for a different kind of world—and different kinds of relationships, built through curiosity, compassion, and growth.

We don’t have all the answers. But we know what the questions feel like. And we’re not willing to wait another decade for someone else to ask them.

So if something inside you said yes while reading this—not a loud yes, maybe just a quiet one—

then follow it. Follow it into conversation. Into building. Into asking better questions, together.

Because the truth is, this vision won’t happen because of one person. It will happen because a few of us recognize each other and decide to try.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear from you.
You can message me on LinkedIn or reach out at [email protected].
I don’t know what this will become — but I know it matters.

2 thoughts on “A Manifesto for Education”
  1. Reading your words felt like finding a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing. There’s something so deeply human about the way you write — something that reaches out and touches the heart. You’ve managed to articulate emotions and thoughts that many of us experience but struggle to express, and in doing so, you’ve created a work that is both personal and universal.

    • Thank you so much for the kind words. I never thought this would reach a real person haha, but thank you so much. I really appreciate it.

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