Mike Petrilli doesn't just tally the wins and losses of 2025; he exposes a profound disconnect between the optimism of policy elites and the grim reality of student outcomes. While the year was framed by some as a turning point for education reform, Petrilli argues that the data tells a darker story, one where federal chaos and shifting priorities have left the most vulnerable students behind. This is not a year-end recap for the faint of heart; it is a stark warning that without a collective shift in strategy, the gap between policy rhetoric and classroom reality will only widen.
The Illusion of Progress
The piece opens with a sobering assessment of the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) results, which Petrilli notes were "shocking and far from inevitable, given the financial resources available to schools." He channels Tim Daly's frustration, asking the critical question: "But when are we going to put actual wins on the board?" The argument here is that a year cannot be deemed "successful" simply because it was eventful or because some specific policies were passed. The metric must be student achievement, and by that measure, 2025 was a failure.
Petrilli highlights a growing consensus among opinion leaders that the crisis began long before the pandemic, yet the response remains fragmented. He notes Van Schoales' observation that "there seems to be no effort or vision for how to better support most low-income kids in the biggest school districts." This is a damning indictment of the current reform landscape. While the administration has pushed for tax credits and vouchers, Petrilli suggests these are merely "marginal improvements" that fail to address the systemic rot in large urban public systems. The reliance on market-based solutions without a robust safety net for the poorest students is a strategy that is increasingly looking like a dead end.
"When are we going to put actual wins on the board? That's what I would call a good year."
Critics might argue that the focus on standardized test scores ignores the broader social and emotional recovery students need post-pandemic. However, Petrilli and his sources insist that without academic gains, the other goals remain hollow. The data suggests that the resources poured into schools have not translated into learning, a disconnect that demands more than just a change in tone.
The AI Divide and the Data Vacuum
As the piece moves into the role of technology, Petrilli presents a nuanced view of artificial intelligence. While some see AI as a great equalizer, the evidence suggests it is acting as a "powerful accelerator for exacerbating the divides by income and race." He cites the experience of Van Schoales' nephews, who possess the networks and skills to leverage AI, contrasting them with disadvantaged students who lack both access and guidance. The fear is that AI will not democratize education but rather entrench existing hierarchies, creating a two-tiered system where privilege buys advantage.
Furthermore, the federal landscape has become hostile to the very research needed to navigate these changes. Petrilli points out that "federal chaos will make it super hard to improve the research ecosystem." This is a critical vulnerability. Without reliable data, policymakers are flying blind. The administration's slashing of data and research support leaves states like Illinois to fill the void, as seen in their new Early Childhood Integrated Data System. While these state-level efforts are promising, they are insufficient to counteract the national erosion of evidence-based policy.
Mike Petrilli writes, "Research on impact is less fashionable these days, and the federal chaos will make it super hard to improve the research ecosystem." This observation strikes at the heart of the reform movement's identity crisis. If the tools for measuring success are dismantled, how can any policy be deemed effective? The shift away from rigorous evaluation in favor of ideological posturing is a dangerous trend that threatens to derail any genuine progress.
Urban Realities and the Illusion of Choice
The commentary then turns to the specific challenges facing major urban districts, where the stakes are highest. Petrilli highlights the financial and structural crises in cities like Los Angeles and New York, where mandates and mismanagement are leading to school closures and skyrocketing costs. He notes that "a lot of districts are in the same boat," citing analyses that show too many staff and schools for the number of students served. The narrative of "choice" often ignores the reality that many of these choices are illusory, leaving families with few viable options.
In Denver, the pendulum is swinging back toward top-down control, a move Petrilli describes as a departure from the portfolio management strategies that once promised innovation. While some argue that centralized systems can work, the risk of micromanagement is high. The piece suggests that the "portfolio" model, which aimed to create a diverse ecosystem of schools, is being abandoned in favor of a return to bureaucracy. This shift reflects a broader fatigue with reform experiments that have failed to deliver on their promises.
"Today's child endangerment doesn't come from dangerous machines, high mortality rates, or a lack of K–12 opportunities—it often comes from a lack of agency."
Petrilli also touches on the broader societal shift, quoting Kelsey Piper's reflection on how modern prosperity has trapped children under increasing supervision. The irony is palpable: as schools become more controlled and standardized, students lose the agency to make meaningful choices about their own learning. This loss of autonomy is a subtle but profound cost of the current educational model, one that may have long-term consequences for civic engagement and personal development.
The Bottom Line
The strongest part of Petrilli's argument is its refusal to accept the status quo as inevitable. By juxtaposing the optimism of reformers with the hard data of declining achievement, he forces a reckoning with the reality that current strategies are not working. The biggest vulnerability, however, is the lack of a clear, actionable alternative. While the piece effectively diagnoses the problems—from the AI divide to the erosion of research—it offers few concrete solutions beyond a call for "getting our acts together." The reader is left with a clear understanding of the crisis but must wait for the next wave of ideas to see how it might be resolved.