Why the School Factory Model Fails Curious Humans
Western schooling was never designed to produce thinkers. It was designed to produce reliable employees for a world that no longer exists.
When I was homeschooled, my days didn't have a schedule. They had a flow. If I was deep into a book on Greek mythology at 10:00 AM, I didn't have to stop because a bell rang. I didn't have to switch my brain to "math mode" just because a clock said so. Looking back now, that single difference—the ability to stay in a state of deep work—is the greatest advantage I had over my peers in public school.
The "factory model" of education isn't just an insult; it's a historical fact. The current structure of age-batching, standardized testing, and centralized control was popularized during the Industrial Revolution to prepare children for the routine and compliance of factory work. But we don't live in that world anymore.
The Myth of Age-Batching
Nowhere else in human society do we cluster people exclusively by their "manufacture date." In the real world—in work, in hobbies, in community—we cluster by interest, by skill level, and by shared goals. By forcing children to only interact with people exactly their own age, we create an artificial social vacuum that breeds tribalism and stunts emotional maturity.
The Erasure of Flow
Systemic schooling is the enemy of concentration. Every 50 minutes, the system intentionally interrupts the learner. Over twelve years, this builds a habit of fragmented thinking. We wonder why adults struggle to focus in the age of the smartphone, yet we ignore the fact that we spent our formative years being forced to switch subjects exactly when we were starting to get interested in them.
Systems Check
- Does your child's "work" at school resemble the work they will do as an adult?
- What happens to a child's questions when they are told "we're not on that chapter yet"?
- Is the goal of the school to help the child learn, or to help the system manage the child?
Compliance vs. Competence
School rewards the "good student"—the one who can follow instructions, color inside the lines, and repeat the correct answer. But the real world rewards the "competent human"—the one who can find their own answers, navigate uncertainty, and build things that didn't exist before.
As I plan to homeschool, I'm choosing competence over compliance. I'm choosing a model that treats my children as humans with individual agency, not as raw material to be processed by an institution.