by Rebecca Thomas
A cone of silence is impressed upon those who work in the top tiers of our education system.
From suppressing assessment bungles, to the shambles of how our schools are monitored; from the panic deployment of PLD by people paid to pretend they are experts, to the disasters and complications of writing curriculum content—this level, described by many who work there, is toxic.
On the ground, however, a totally different version of our education system plays out. Dedicated teachers and leaders run around trying to patch the cracks as the failures from above begin to ooze through.
It’s a sad state of affairs—the gap between reality, students' needs, available resources, and the people wielding power. The ones making terrible decisions.
I listen in with sadness, as the caretaker across from me is declined access to funding - he just wanted to buy some ply to turn into an outdoor chalkboard so the students can take their learning outside. Tight pockets in schools necessary, while the government is funding giant shipping containers, with even bigger carbon footprints, to ferry containers of maths text books over the pond.
Are we supposed to just accept that the system was always like this? That it will continue to be a model of dysfunction and contradiction? Are we supposed to ‘get on with it’ and keep plugging leaks?
“That’s the trouble when working in an organisation,” someone told me when I aired my grievances. And maybe that is the trouble. Our education system is made up of a mixture of ‘organisations’—many of them in place not to serve students but to extract profit or justify their own salaries. Organisations who have meetings about meetings; organisations who make up 'fluff' to report to their CEOs and their Boards of Trustees about 'not for profit' profits and charitable donations where rich businessmen hide from tax payments behind a smokescreen.
Profits come in all shapes and sizes, disguised as ‘investments’ in education. Somewhere overseas handshakes are being made and publishing companies are benefiting from the imagined fear that teachers are not serving our students' needs.
Every year, money that could change lives instead disappears into wages for bureaucrats who ensure their own employment. Each greedy fist grabbing a share of the river of funding, leaving less for those on the ground who actually make a difference: the caretakers, the support staff, the outdoor learning budgets.
In his later years, Sir Ken Robinson spoke openly about how education is designed not to be fair. That inequity isn’t a flaw in the system—it’s a feature. Naively, we forget that the money in education isn’t just for students. It’s for assessment writers, textbook publishers, maths resource developers, PLD corporate letting agencies farming out the minds of those who care about education, school lunch contractors, data-tracking systems—each counting their money in their own quiet corner.
No wonder we have inequity.
And now, charter schools are poised to enter this already corrupt flow of money. Private investors, eager to capitalise on the narrative that state education is failing, will open their hands for their share. Public funds, instead of being directed toward strengthening our schools, will be siphoned into the pockets of those who see education as a business opportunity. More cracks will form, and students will be the ones left to dodge the widening gaps.
How do we stop the flow of money from being swallowed by those who serve themselves?
We start by disrupting the cycle.
Where does education funding actually go? Who is profiting?
The more we ask, the harder it becomes to ignore—especially when contracts are awarded to private organisations.
Schools need to be empowered to say no and reject.
No to overpriced, ineffective PLD.
No to expensive assessment tools that do little more than generate data for policymakers.
No to outsourcing solutions that could be created within our own communities.
Instead of letting outside organisations dictate professional learning, schools should focus on growing expertise from within. Teachers learn best from those who understand their context. Strong in-school PLD led by experienced educators—not by those looking to cash in—could shift the power dynamic.
What would our education system look like if we redirected money away from those who exploit it and toward those who actually make a difference?
What if we stopped giving decision-making power and profit to those who have never set foot in a classroom?
We all know Education should be about people, not business.
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