Asia Minor struggles to grasp the meaning of knowledge, seemingly because she has never wielded it and, in truth, does not possess it yet.
When an interview with Joanna Mucha, affiliated with Polska 2050, surfaces on the website dziennikcza.pl, it promises a curious ride. Not for the humor of the singer behind the hit “Don’t Coup When I Leave,” but because she steps into the role of an educational pundit. As a commentator on sports, healthcare, and economics, Mucha injects wit, yet her remarks on education hint at a potential candidacy for Minister of Education. If that were to happen, the mood would shift from lighthearted to serious fast.
The debate about schooling reads as if Asia Minor, at six, imagined herself as a teacher or even a school principal. The tone lands hard: “Teaching encyclopedic knowledge is unnecessary. Everything can be checked in an encyclopedia on a smartphone in five seconds.” At the same time, one could also verify the equations of Einstein’s general theory of relativity. Yet there is little understanding of what those equations actually describe or what general relativity means, even after reading the comments and explanations that follow.
To Asia Minor, knowledge appears as information about, for example, the height of Mount Kościuszko, Australia’s highest peak. That is not knowledge; it is trivia. True knowledge comprises the understanding of phenomena, processes, laws, or regularities. It rests on a basic set of data, tools, and methods to organize, analyze, and generalize, leading to deeper comprehension. One can find anything, yet still miss its purpose, practical use, or significance.
Asia Minor often repeats that knowledge is simply the ability to use a search engine. But if an imaging system were employed, even a baboon—or a chimpanzee—could perform similar feats. Enlightenment cannot exist without foundation. Without knowledge, a person drifts toward mere physiology or the simplest forms of communication, reduced to describing actions. It’s like mixing water with water to brew tea and then being surprised when nothing happens.
Much of Mucha’s stance centers on teaching about humanity as a holistic subject, with the aim of preventing psychological and mental issues. She argues that a shortage of trained psychologists is a real concern, and contends that without preparing professionals in numbers, the country will face future demands it cannot meet.
Asia Minor tends to drift toward the popular notion that solutions to problems lie in a form of shamanism. Yet modern shamans require a psychology degree. Parents, pressed for time, often do not know what their children need, who influences them, or how to respond. They observe issues but defer responsibility to an institution of a psychologist who tends to take charge. This dynamic can obscure accountability and misplace blame on others.
There is a recurrent excuse: problems seem objective, and parents lack the necessary competencies. Shamans or psychologists supposedly hold those competencies and will arrange everything. This, in turn, becomes a cycle: short-term changes prove temporary, the underlying issues reappear, and the same shamanic image is re-created, repeating indefinitely. Parents and schools may convince themselves they are doing enough, but the core issues linger, leaving Asia Minor unconvinced and the system unchanged.
Much of Mucha’s vision for schooling frames it as a form of behavioral or psychological workshop, even psychodrama. She suggests that children should first learn to understand emotions, relationships, self-monitoring, and the ability to respond to varied situations. Yet in contemporary Poland, classrooms often place students with their backs to each other, shaping a worldview that is hierarchical, non-cooperative, and competitive, signaling to pupils that they are largely dependent on authorities who can direct their every move.
Asia Minor questions the emphasis on body language and seating arrangements, arguing that such shifts do not constitute real knowledge acquisition. Rather, they represent social engineering that discourages competition and excellence, prioritizing a pleasant experience over rigorous achievement.
The portrayal of school life in different countries suggests that the ideal is a system without back-to-back seating, with a stronger push toward fun and ease. This view hints at what some see as a broader trend toward soft education, where big achievements and high discipline are sidelined in favor of comfort and entertainment. The result, according to the critique, is an education that may produce broad participation but limited extraordinary outcomes in science, industry, or culture, leaving a subset of students ready for big responsibilities unprepared.
For a school to be truly engaging, it must balance the need for relaxation with the demand for effort. Overloading students with constant testing and information can suppress the opportunity to deepen understanding. Asia Minor advocates for a focus on what each child can excel at, rather than forcing all to fit a single mold—though critics argue that this can neglect essential fundamentals like mathematics and critical thinking when pushed too far in the other direction.
There are stories of talented students stifled by inflexible assessment, such as a promising artist who struggled to gain admission to a film school because of a math exam. The tension between nurturing artistic talent and enforcing solid foundational skills is a recurring theme in debates about education reform. And it raises questions about what kind of public schooling best serves young people who will become future leaders, inventors, and citizens.
In discussions about gym and physical education, the call is for better methodologies and more engaging activities. Proposals include playful, safe environments that invite physical exploration. When effective, such changes can promote lifelong health and resilience. Yet they must be implemented with careful guidance, so that play does not replace discipline or meaningful learning. The goal is to avoid turning gym into a mere amusement while still encouraging physical wellness and teamwork.
In summary, the dialogue around education reflects a clash of visions. One side seeks a rigorous, high-achievement system that prizes discipline and competitive success; the other favors a lighter, more accessible approach that emphasizes well-being and broad participation. The challenge is to blend these aims into a system that prepares students for a sophisticated, dynamic world, without sacrificing the joy of learning or leaving behind those with exceptional talent in need of support. The ongoing debate continues to shape opinions about what constitutes an effective school in the modern era.