The censorious, tribal left have damaged institutions in pursuing culture war.
A century ago, American teachers functioned as a broadly conservative cultural force. Their purpose was straightforward: school children in the knowledge, habits, and civic competence required to function as free citizens. Excellence was measured by mastery of reading, writing, arithmetic, history, and practical skills. Students were expected to learn how to operate within groups—classrooms, teams, communities—rather than be continuously sorted and affirmed according to personal identity. That approach drew on older traditions of formation that predated the republic itself.
That is no longer the prevailing model. Large parts of the education establishment now treat schooling as identity formation and emotional management. Children are encouraged to locate themselves primarily through difference rather than shared standards. “Safe spaces” frequently function less as protection than as mechanisms that police speech and isolate students from disagreement. Simultaneously, stimulants and other psychiatric medications are prescribed at rates that would have seemed extraordinary a generation ago, often to manage the very behavioral and attentional variation that schools once expected children to master through structure and expectation. Young students are mobilized for adult political causes while ordinary competitive sports and physical rigor face new restrictions or ideological overlays. The result is not liberation; it is confusion dressed as compassion.
Nurses once embodied a parallel ethic of disciplined service. Florence Nightingale’s reforms emphasized cleanliness, order, systematic observation, and subordination of personal ideology to the patient’s recovery. The profession trained people to follow evidence and medical hierarchy while exercising practical judgment at the bedside. Today the cultural climate inside parts of healthcare has shifted. Open discussion of alternative approaches or skepticism toward prevailing orthodoxies can carry professional risk. At the extreme, a small number of practitioners have claimed a mercy rationale for ending lives they judged irredeemable—cases that, while rare, reveal how far ethical language can drift when traditional restraints weaken. Legal frameworks for assisted dying in some jurisdictions formalize what earlier nursing ethics would have rejected.
These were not peripheral occupations. Teachers and nurses sat near the center of middle-class respectability and institutional trust. Educating a person was understood as expanding capacity, not dissolving inherited categories. A nurse treated Theodore Roosevelt after he was shot in 1912; the decision to leave the bullet in place reflected clinical judgment under constraints, not ideology. Healthcare outcomes have improved dramatically through technology and science, and costs have risen accordingly. Education spending has also risen substantially in real terms, yet long-term measures of student achievement—NAEP long-term trends, PISA results—have been largely flat or declining in key areas for years, with sharper drops after 2010 and further damage during the pandemic years. More money and more ideological intervention have not produced corresponding excellence.
Critical thinking is valuable. What passes for it in many institutions today is often the opposite: the intersection of relativist ethics and identity-based moral claims that disable ordinary judgment. Students learn to detect power and oppression with great sensitivity while remaining poorly equipped to weigh evidence, tolerate disagreement, or master difficult material. The former Soviet defector Yuri Bezmenov described a process of ideological subversion that begins with demoralization of education, media, and culture—changing a generation’s perception of reality so that facts lose their force. Whether one accepts the full Soviet operational claim or not, the observable pattern inside Western institutions matches the symptoms he outlined: relativism in place of standards, politicization of neutral functions, and the replacement of competence with correct attitudes.
Thirty years ago a family could still treat a Disney film as a relatively safe alternative to the more openly manipulative currents of television. That confidence has eroded. Major entertainment corporations have absorbed progressive cultural priorities so thoroughly that their output frequently prioritizes messaging over craft or broad audience appeal. Box-office underperformance of several high-profile projects and internal cultural conflicts are not coincidental. Parallel debates—whether biological sex is real and binary—illustrate how far basic categories have been contested inside institutions that once treated them as settled.
The damage is not abstract. When teaching prioritizes identity over literacy, when medicine prioritizes affirmation over evidence-based caution in certain domains, and when cultural institutions treat traditional forms as suspect, the institutions themselves lose the trust and competence that made them valuable. Recovery requires restoring the older priorities: transmission of knowledge, disciplined service, and the formation of capable citizens rather than the continuous management of identities. The alternative is continued institutional decay under the banner of progress.


