School feels like a prison? That's not a bug. That's a feature.
The modern education system wasn't created to enlighten minds—it was designed to break them into compliance. 🧵
Think back to high school.
Did you ever feel trapped in a machine with its own purposes, completely disconnected from what you wanted to learn?
That feeling reveals something fundamental: you weren't imagining the prison-like atmosphere. It was engineered that way.
The modern school system wasn't created for learning. It was invented by Prussians after their crushing defeat by Napoleon in 1806.
They needed obedient citizens who would follow orders without question.
So they created the world's first compulsory education system—not to enlighten minds, but to break them into compliance.
Before then, education happened in countless different ways. What we call "school" is actually a recent invention with a very specific purpose.
Ayn Rand called modern educators "comprachicos of the mind"—after 17th century groups who bought children and systematically deformed their bodies for entertainment.
Today's version is more sophisticated: they don't break bodies, they break minds. And parents deliver the children willingly, calling it "education."
The method is the same—take something naturally growing and force it into an unnatural shape.
This explains everything you hated about school:
— rigid time blocks like factory shifts;
— hierarchical authoritarian structure;
— students grouped by age not ability;
— predetermined career tracks.
These aren't bugs, they're features. The system is working exactly as designed to produce compliance, not curiosity.
The sad irony is that many teachers genuinely believe education is their purpose.
They work incredibly hard to actually teach their students. But the entire system they're trapped in is hostile to real learning.
They're constantly fighting upstream against a structure designed to produce conformity, not critical thinking.
Any real education that happens is almost by accident.
We've made a catastrophic mistake: we think schooling and education are the same thing.
Real education is driven by curiosity, happens throughout life, and develops your ability to think and question.
Schooling is about control, happens during one stage of life, and is standardized to produce uniformity.
The result? Students who can recite information but can't think independently.
Who seek approval from authority rather than trusting their own judgment.
Who've been conditioned to fear the very tool they need for survival: reason.
Understanding this difference is liberating.
Your frustration with school wasn't personal failure—it was a natural response to an unnatural system designed to break independent minds.
Ready to reclaim real education while navigating the academic system?
The first step is understanding how to stay intellectually free in an environment designed to suppress independent thinking.
Angela Davis is the most famous prison abolitionist of the last fifty years.
She built her name on one rule: no one should be caged for their beliefs.
Then political prisoners in communist regimes wrote to her. 🧵
She made political imprisonment her life's work. She wrote "Are Prisons Obsolete?" She co-founded Critical Resistance in 1997. She edited "If They Come in the Morning" in 1971.
She is the person who put the phrase "prison abolition" into serious American political conversation.
In 1970 she was a UCLA philosophy professor and a member of the Communist Party USA.
In August, guns registered in her name were used in a California courthouse raid in which four people died, including the presiding judge. She fled and landed on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted list.
Three iron cages hang from a church tower in the German city of Münster. They have been there for almost 500 years.
Inside them, once, were the bodies of men who tried to build heaven on earth by abolishing private property.
Münster wants its people to know what put them there. 🧵
In February 1534, a group of radical Anabaptists won the city council elections in Münster. Within weeks they had expelled every neighbor who refused rebaptism, redistributed the empty houses, and welcomed a Dutch baker named Jan Matthys who claimed to be the prophet Enoch.
The New Jerusalem had begun. Münster's ruler, Prince-Bishop Franz von Waldeck, had been driven out with the rest. He raised an army and laid siege to take his capital back.
Matthys ordered gold, silver, and coined money surrendered to a common treasury. Buying and selling were banned. Food was pooled. Doors had to be left unlocked. Seven appointed deacons administered the goods of the community.
The socialist Karl Kautsky, writing in 1897, called it a forerunner of modern communism.
In 1825, a rich Welsh industrialist bought an entire American town to prove that socialism could work.
He had the money, the buildings, the theory, and hundreds of eager followers waiting to move in.
Two years later, it was over. 🧵
Robert Owen paid around $150,000 for the town of Harmonie, Indiana. He got 20,000 acres, more than 160 buildings, working mills, and farms already producing food.
He renamed it New Harmony. Close to a thousand people arrived in the first year.
Owen already ran successful textile mills in New Lanark, Scotland, where he was famous for treating workers well and running a profitable business at the same time.
He believed that if you removed private property and paid everyone equally, cooperation would naturally replace competition.
Almost every major revolution in modern history followed the same script: overthrow one power, install another.
France swapped the King for Robespierre, then for Napoleon.
Russia swapped the Czar for Lenin, then for Stalin.
Cuba swapped Batista for Castro.
Only one revolution broke the script. The American one, in 1776. 🧵
In every other case, the logic of power survives the change of regime. A new sovereign takes the throne.
Rights remain concessions, granted by whoever holds power, revocable when politically inconvenient.
What Thomas Jefferson wrote in the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence does something else.
The sentence reads:
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
In 1960, newly independent African leaders had a choice: capitalism or socialism.
Almost all of them picked socialism.
A Ghanaian economist named George Ayittey spent forty years documenting what happened next.
His findings are in print, and almost nobody outside Africa wants to hear them. 🧵
The reasoning in 1960 looked airtight.
Colonialism had been run by Western capitalists. So capitalism was a tool of oppression. Socialism, its opposite, would be the path to liberation.
Kwame Nkrumah in Ghana, Julius Nyerere in Tanzania, Sékou Touré in Guinea, Mengistu Haile Mariam in Ethiopia, and Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe all reached the same conclusion through the same logic.
The logic was tidy. The results were catastrophic.
In Ghana, Nkrumah's government built 64 state enterprises before his overthrow in February 1966. Only three or four were profitable.
By 1970, the Ghanaian state was setting prices on nearly 6,000 items across more than 700 product groups.
Thomas Jefferson wrote "all men are created equal" while owning more than 600 human beings over his lifetime.
The contradiction is real. But the sentence he wrote kept working long after he stopped. Abolitionists used it. Lincoln used it. The civil rights movement used it.
Here is the whole, contradictory story of the man who wrote it. 🧵
America is not a nation in the ordinary sense. It is not built on a shared ethnicity or a common ancestry.
It is built on a claim about human nature: that every person has rights that exist before any government, and that government exists to protect those rights.
Jefferson wrote that claim, even though he failed to live by it.
He tried more than once to make the founding mean what it said.
His original 1776 draft of the Declaration of Independence blamed King George III for the slave trade and called it "cruel war against human nature itself." Delegates from South Carolina and Georgia struck the passage out.
That same year, his draft for Virginia's state constitution banned the importation of slaves. The convention rejected it.