Freddie deBoer dismantles the most persistent myth in American education: that we once had a system that worked, and that we have since fallen from grace. His most provocative claim is not that schools are failing, but that the very standards we demand of them—universal academic excellence and the closing of all socioeconomic gaps—have never been achieved, anywhere, in human history. For a listener tired of the endless "crisis" headlines, this piece offers a radical reframing: the problem isn't a decline in quality, but the unprecedented ambition of our goals.
The Myth of the Halcyon Past
The piece opens by attacking the "relentless tic" of nostalgia that dominates education debates. deBoer writes, "by the standards of the very people who make such waves to the past, those halcyon days are mythical. They never existed. Anywhere." This is a crucial correction to the public narrative. We are often told that American students used to be world-beaters, but deBoer points out that the history of American performance in international comparisons is "almost universally uninspiring, no matter the era." He notes that we can't get back to number one because "we were never there, not even close."
This argument gains significant weight when viewed through the lens of the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA). While the article doesn't dwell on the data, the context is vital: PISA results have consistently shown that the United States has never held a dominant lead in global rankings, even during the mid-20th century when the economy was booming. deBoer's insight is that the "crisis" is a statistical illusion created by comparing current, broader participation rates against a selective past.
"The notion that the academic life of school and then college and a professional class life can be universalized is profoundly new, and the idea that schooling can close socioeconomic and racial gaps is too."
The Burden of Impossible Expectations
The core of deBoer's analysis rests on the distinction between "equality in education" and "equality from education." He argues that for most of history, schooling was designed to sort students, not to elevate everyone to the same level. "In ancient Athens... schooling was available only to free male citizens of means," he reminds us, noting that even Plato believed rigorous training was for the "few who would become philosopher-kings." The modern expectation that every child should be college-ready is a "remarkably recent invention."
This historical context explains why the current system feels so strained. As deBoer puts it, "the goal of educating everyone and the goal of creating equality in and through the classroom are directly at odds with each other." When you expand access to the entire population, including those who were previously excluded, average test scores naturally drop. He illustrates this with the "selection bias" of standardized testing: "state average SAT scores are negatively correlated with the portion of students who are taking the test." In states where everyone takes the test, the average is lower; in states where only the elite take it, the average is higher.
Critics might argue that this logic risks accepting inequality as inevitable rather than fighting to overcome it. However, deBoer isn't advocating for a return to tracking; he is arguing that we must stop blaming schools for failing to solve problems—like poverty and housing segregation—that they were never designed to fix.
The Neoliberal Trap
Perhaps the most damning part of the commentary is its critique of the economic pressures placed on the education system. deBoer argues that the "neoliberal era and the age of globalization had devastating effects on the wages and employment of workers without educational credentials, putting immense and artificial pressure on an educational system that was never designed to be the primary means through which Americans find jobs."
He suggests that the obsession with closing achievement gaps is noble but fundamentally misdirected. "The idea that poverty was an injustice that the school system had the capacity to solve and was obligated to solve, meanwhile, would have seemed bizarre" to thinkers just a century ago. The system is now asked to compensate for "inequalities generated by housing policy, labor markets, healthcare access, and generational wealth gaps that schools have no power to touch." This reframing shifts the blame from teachers and administrators to the broader structural forces of the economy.
"Seeing schooling as a tool of equality was a genuine revolution in how Americans thought about the purpose of education, but it was layered on top of institutions that were never built for that purpose, staffed by professionals not trained for it, and asked to compensate for inequalities generated by housing policy, labor markets, healthcare access, and generational wealth gaps that schools have no power to touch."
Bottom Line
deBoer's strongest contribution is his refusal to accept the premise that the current educational landscape represents a failure of the past; instead, he frames it as the inevitable friction of attempting the impossible. The argument's greatest vulnerability lies in its potential to discourage reform—if the goals are impossible, does it justify inaction? Yet, by exposing the "mythical" nature of our standards, he forces a necessary conversation: we must either adjust our expectations to reality or fundamentally restructure the society that surrounds the schoolhouse, rather than just the schoolhouse itself.