The recent local authority elections in England have drawn considerable attention - not just for what they signify politically, but for what they reveal about deeper shifts in the cultural and social fabric of the country. The strong performance of Reform UK, a party that positions itself firmly on the right of the political spectrum, should prompt more than electoral analysis. It should galvanise educators, policymakers, and citizens alike to reflect on the broader societal conditions that enable the rise of extremist ideologies. Education, in this context, is not peripheral. It is foundational.

To say that education is political is not to argue that it should be partisan. Rather, it is to recognise that education plays a crucial role in shaping how individuals come to understand themselves, others, and the world. It frames the questions we ask and the possibilities we imagine. The Brazilian educator Paulo Freire famously argued that education is never neutral - it either functions to maintain the status quo or to challenge and transform it. At a time when misinformation, polarisation, and disenfranchisement are on the rise, this insight feels more urgent than ever.

In a previous blog post, I wrote about the pervasive nature of misinformation and how it thrives in environments where critical thinking has not been cultivated. Education must do more than transmit knowledge - it must equip learners with the tools to interrogate what they read, hear, and see. This means embedding critical media literacy across the curriculum and treating it not as an optional skill but as a civic imperative. If we are serious about countering extremist narratives, we must ensure that learners are capable of recognising manipulation, questioning simplistic binaries, and appreciating complexity.

Equally important is the role of critical pedagogy. This approach to teaching does not simply involve giving students more challenging material; it invites them to reflect on power, privilege, and social structures. In another post, I reflected on how critical pedagogy can foster a sense of agency, encouraging learners to see themselves as capable of shaping society, rather than merely adapting to it. This orientation is fundamentally at odds with the fatalism and scapegoating that often characterise right-wing populism. If education is to be a force for democracy, it must help students develop the capacity and the confidence to participate meaningfully in it.

Assessment practices matter, too. In an earlier piece, I made the case for authentic assessment - not as a buzzword but as a pedagogical strategy that enables deeper engagement. When students are asked to apply their learning to real-world problems, to work collaboratively, and to reflect on their own development, they are far more likely to emerge as thoughtful and resilient individuals. By contrast, reductive forms of assessment that prize rote memorisation over understanding leave students ill-equipped to grapple with the moral and ethical complexities of contemporary life. If our goal is to cultivate citizens, not just workers, we need to reimagine what assessment is for.

Technology is often positioned as either the saviour or the scourge of education, but my own view is more nuanced. In discussing the role of AI and digital tools, I have emphasised the importance of digital literacy - not just in terms of technical competence but in terms of critical engagement. Social media platforms, algorithmic news feeds, and generative AI all shape how individuals encounter and interpret information. Without intentional pedagogical intervention, these tools can amplify misinformation and deepen division. But with thoughtful guidance, they can also become tools for empowerment and connection.

This is where the role of the educational technologist becomes especially significant. As I have argued elsewhere, educational technologists are not just service providers; they are pedagogical partners. They have a responsibility to advocate for ethical, inclusive, and student-centred approaches to technology use. In a landscape increasingly shaped by metrics, automation, and efficiency, it is vital that we do not lose sight of the human dimensions of learning.

Open Educational Resources (OERs) offer one practical way of advancing these aims. By removing barriers to access, OERs can help democratise knowledge and foster a culture of sharing and collaboration. In past blog posts, I have drawn attention to the fragmentation of the OER landscape in the UK and the need for renewed investment in open infrastructure. The potential of OERs to counter the elitism and exclusion often associated with both higher education and extremist ideologies should not be underestimated.

Underlying all of this is the question of agency. Who gets to decide what counts as knowledge? Whose voices are heard in the curriculum? How are students encouraged - or discouraged - from bringing their full selves into the learning process? Reclaiming pedagogical agency means resisting the drift toward standardisation and reclaiming space for creativity, dialogue, and dissent. It means supporting educators to make informed, principled choices about their practice, even when those choices are not easily quantifiable or immediately measurable.

What we are seeing today is not just a political challenge but an educational one. If we want a society that is more inclusive, more just, and more resilient, we need an education system that reflects and reinforces those values. This requires more than tinkering at the edges. It demands a deep and sustained commitment to progressive pedagogy, critical inquiry, and institutional courage.