Schools must be havens of uncommon safety and extraordinary respect

Education is failing its most fundamental test: preparing people to be human in a complex, interconnected world. Schools claim to shape the leaders, innovators, and citizens of tomorrow, yet they still operate on outdated models that prioritize compliance over curiosity, standardization over self-awareness, and competition over collaboration. If schools do not become havens of uncommon safety and extraordinary respect, they will continue to produce individuals who can memorize formulas but cannot resolve conflicts, who can follow instructions but struggle to form authentic relationships, and who are equipped for tests but unprepared for life.

It is not enough for schools to teach information: they must cultivate the ability to navigate human relationships with empathy, self-awareness, and resilience. Without this, learning remains shallow, disconnected, and meaningless in the real world. This is why Manifesto 25 places emphasis on the necessity of social-emotional and relational intelligence in education. This fourth point was suggested by Alex Wiedemann, a co-initiator of a democratic learning initiatives in Germany:

Schools must be havens of uncommon safety and extraordinary respect. Social-emotional and relational intelligence must be at the core—beyond test scores and rigid academics—fostering empathy, self-awareness, and constructive conflict resolution. The opportunity to be vulnerable in a safe space allows for genuine, authentic connections with others and oneself. In this way, schools establish the interpersonal foundation learners need to navigate diverse perspectives and thrive in an interconnected world. These intelligences are not optional; they are the cornerstone of personal growth and collective progress.

The majority of schools measure success in rigid academic terms, treating emotional intelligence as a nice bonus rather than a necessity. But the ability to communicate, empathize, and resolve conflict is not an extracurricular skill. It is the foundation upon which all learning and collaboration rest. A student who excels in calculus but cannot handle criticism or work through disagreement will struggle in any real-world setting. A brilliant writer who has never been given the space to explore vulnerability may never develop the confidence to express original ideas.

True intellectual growth requires more than just access to information. It demands the courage to question, to make mistakes, and to engage in difficult conversations. A classroom built on uncommon safety and extraordinary respect does not shield students from challenge; it equips them to face it. When learners trust that their ideas will be met with curiosity rather than ridicule, they take intellectual risks. They push beyond memorization into real inquiry, debate ideas openly, and develop the resilience to navigate complexity. Without this foundation, learning becomes a perfunctory performance rather than a process of discovery.

A school that prioritizes relational intelligence does not tolerate disrespect, whether in the form of bullying, systemic inequities, or dismissive attitudes toward student concerns. It actively fosters dialogue. It ensures that conflict is addressed constructively rather than avoided or punished in ways that fail to teach resolution. It recognizes that true respect is not just about politeness but about valuing the perspectives and emotions of others.

Consider the difference between a classroom where students fear embarrassment and one where they feel safe enough to take risks. In the first, participation is cautious, discussion is shallow, and learning remains transactional. In the second, students push their thinking further, debate ideas openly, and develop the resilience to handle intellectual and personal challenges. Similarly, a school that addresses conflict through punitive measures alone teaches compliance, not resolution. But a school that guides students through the process of understanding different viewpoints, acknowledging harm, and repairing relationships teaches skills they will use for life.

One way schools can foster this kind of environment is by embedding structured practices of restorative justice into daily life. Instead of resorting to punitive measures such as suspensions or detentions, schools can create spaces where students engage in facilitated dialogues to address conflicts, repair harm, and rebuild trust. When a conflict arises a restorative circle can bring those involved together to express their perspectives, listen without interruption, and work toward meaningful resolution. This approach not only reduces repeated conflicts but also teaches students how to navigate disagreement with empathy and accountability.

Another powerful and practical example is teaching vulnerability through reflective learning spaces. In a school culture that values performance over process, students are often afraid to admit what they don’t know or to explore their own uncertainties. Schools can counter this by incorporating reflective practices like journaling, group dialogues, and personal storytelling into the curriculum. For example, a literature class might begin each week with students sharing personal reflections on how a novel’s themes relate to their own lives. A science teacher might encourage students to document their failures as part of the learning process, normalizing mistakes as a crucial step in discovery. These small but intentional moments create a culture where students feel safe enough to be honest about their thoughts, struggles, and aspirations without fear of judgment.

A third, deeper transformation comes from embracing democratic education, where students have a real voice in shaping their learning environment. This means moving beyond token “student councils” that plan social events and instead involving students in decision-making on policies that affect their daily lives. Schools committed to democratic education hold regular assemblies where students and staff discuss school rules, curriculum choices, and community concerns. In some schools, students even participate in hiring committees for new teachers, ensuring that those who will be most affected by these decisions have a meaningful say. When students are treated as active contributors rather than passive recipients, respect becomes a two-way street, and the school itself becomes a living model of engaged citizenship.

None of this is easy. It requires schools to rethink long-standing assumptions about authority, discipline, and the role of students in their own education. But the payoff is undeniable: schools that prioritize social-emotional and relational intelligence do not just produce better students. They produce better thinkers, better collaborators, and (arguably) better people—individuals who are equipped not only to survive in today's world but to lead, to connect, and to build a more just and humane society.

Social-emotional and relational intelligence are not optional. They are not secondary to academic achievement. They are what allow learners to engage with knowledge, contribute to society, and build lives of meaning. Schools and learning communities must take this responsibility not as an afterthought, but as the very core of what education is meant to be.

Read and sign Manifesto 25 at https://manifesto25.org