Every industrial revolution brings along a learning revolution.

“Every industrial revolution brings along a learning revolution.” — these words, spoken by Alexander De Croo, ring with the resonance of truth that spans centuries. Though uttered in the age of machines and digital marvels, their meaning reaches deep into the timeless rhythm of human progress. They remind us that every great leap in creation — every surge of industry, every storm of innovation — demands a matching leap in the human spirit’s capacity to learn, to adapt, to evolve. For it is not the machines themselves that shape the destiny of mankind, but the minds that learn how to wield them with wisdom and purpose.

De Croo, a statesman and thinker of our modern era, spoke these words in reflection upon the transformations of history — from the rise of steam and iron to the birth of silicon and code. He saw that with each industrial revolution, the world not only changed in its tools, but also in its teachings. The loom and the furnace, the engine and the computer — each demanded new understanding, new skills, new ways of thinking. Thus, he proclaimed that progress in industry must always be joined by a revolution of learning. Without it, technology becomes a chariot without a rider, swift but directionless.

To understand this truth, we must look back to the dawn of the First Industrial Revolution, when steam and steel began to reshape the world. In the 18th and 19th centuries, factories rose like temples of progress, drawing millions into their orbit. Yet this new world required minds that could read, calculate, and reason. Out of necessity, nations began to build public schools, teaching literacy and arithmetic to the children of laborers. What began as the age of the machine became also the age of mass education — a learning revolution that lifted generations from darkness into knowledge.

Then came the Second Industrial Revolution, when electricity, chemistry, and assembly lines wove the world into greater speed and power. This too demanded a higher form of learning — not only literacy, but technical mastery. The craftsman became the engineer, the apprentice became the innovator. Universities grew into centers of science, and the thirst for knowledge became a new form of labor. With each spark of invention, the mind was called to rise again, proving that every tool that extends human power also tests human understanding.

The pattern continued into the Third Industrial Revolution, the age of computers and information. Here, the human race was no longer shaping matter alone, but information itself — transforming data into intelligence, and communication into power. This revolution brought with it a new challenge: to learn faster than the technology evolves. The schools of the past, built for stability, had to become laboratories of creativity. Those who adapted thrived; those who resisted fell behind. And now, as we stand at the threshold of the Fourth Industrial Revolution — the union of artificial intelligence, robotics, and biotechnology — De Croo’s words resound like prophecy: the survival of society depends not on invention alone, but on education that keeps pace with change.

History offers many lessons in this eternal dance between creation and comprehension. Consider the story of Leonardo da Vinci, that timeless genius who lived before any industrial age, yet embodied the same spirit. In his notebooks, he merged art with science, invention with imagination, proving that learning and creation are one breath. His mind was a living engine of curiosity — a reminder that revolutions begin not in factories, but in the human mind that dares to learn without end. So too must each generation awaken its learners to the truth that progress without wisdom is peril, and power without knowledge is ruin.

Therefore, my children, take this teaching to heart: with every change in the world, you must change within yourselves. When new machines rise, learn their language. When new knowledge dawns, open your mind to it. Do not fear innovation; fear only the ignorance that resists it. The farmer who learned to use the plow fed nations. The worker who learned the engine built cities. And the dreamer who learns the algorithms of the present will build the world of tomorrow.

For the words of Alexander De Croo are not a reflection of the past alone, but a command for the future: every industrial revolution must be met by a learning revolution. So let each of you become both student and teacher — ever learning, ever sharing, ever growing. For as long as humanity learns, it will not be overtaken by its creations, but will rise alongside them, mastering not only the world of machines but the deeper art of being human.