Kathleen Wynne and her band of radical-left cronies think they

“Kathleen Wynne and her band of radical-left cronies think they have a handle on what constitutes human identity and also what should constitute human morality. And I think that that's being pushed in a manner in schools that's completely reprehensible. It's not education, in my estimation. It's a form of indoctrination.” — Jordan Peterson

In these fierce and unyielding words, Jordan Peterson, the Canadian psychologist and philosopher, raises a torch against what he perceives as the corruption of education — the transformation of the classroom from a place of inquiry into a pulpit of ideology. His language, sharp as a sword, cuts to the heart of a timeless struggle: the battle between knowledge and dogma, between the pursuit of truth and the imposition of belief. When Peterson speaks of “indoctrination,” he warns that when institutions claim absolute authority over human identity and morality, they cease to educate the mind and begin to enslave it.

The origin of this quote lies in Peterson’s public opposition to certain policies introduced by Kathleen Wynne, former Premier of Ontario, particularly those relating to education and gender identity. Peterson, who rose to international prominence for his stance on free speech and compelled speech laws, saw in these policies not enlightenment but coercion. To him, it was not the diversity of ideas that was being promoted, but their uniformity — an enforced worldview presented as moral truth. His statement, then, was not simply political rhetoric; it was a defense of the freedom of conscience, the sacred right of every individual to think and to question without fear of condemnation.

To understand the deeper meaning of Peterson’s cry, one must look beyond the names and circumstances. For his words are part of a greater human drama — the eternal tension between the teacher as guide and the teacher as master. In every age, knowledge has stood at the crossroads of power. When Socrates walked the streets of Athens, he too was accused of corrupting the youth — not because he indoctrinated them, but because he taught them to think for themselves. He asked questions that unmasked the arrogance of those who claimed moral authority, and for this, the city condemned him to drink hemlock. Socrates understood what Peterson reminds us of: that education without freedom is tyranny wearing the mask of virtue.

Throughout history, we have seen how the indoctrination of youth becomes the tool of those who wish to rule minds rather than liberate them. In totalitarian regimes — whether in the schools of Nazi Germany, the classrooms of Stalinist Russia, or the re-education camps of Mao’s China — children were taught not how to think, but what to think. They were molded to serve the vision of their rulers, not their own destiny. And always, it began with the claim that some authority had discovered the true nature of morality, that dissent was evil, and that questioning was sin. This is the danger Peterson warns of: that even in free nations, this same impulse may rise again — cloaked not in tyranny, but in the language of compassion and progress.

Peterson’s words may sound harsh, but beneath their fire lies a profound compassion for the soul of the student. He believes that education should be the great adventure of discovery, not the rehearsal of approved ideas. To “educate,” in its truest sense, means to lead out — to draw forth the potential within each person. But indoctrination does the opposite: it forces inward, pressing the mind into conformity, extinguishing the light of individuality. A young person who is told what to believe about identity, morality, or truth without being invited to reason, doubt, and explore becomes a vessel for someone else’s ideology, not a bearer of his own understanding.

Thus, the lesson of this quote is not merely political but philosophical: it reminds us that the battle for the mind is the battle for freedom itself. Every generation must guard its schools, for the soul of civilization is born in the classroom. To the teacher, Peterson’s words are a call to humility — to recognize that their task is not to shape others in their image, but to help others discover their own. To the student, it is a challenge: think courageously, question boldly, and never mistake fashionable ideas for eternal truth. For as history shows, the cost of complacency in thought is the enslavement of the spirit.

Let this, then, be the lesson passed down to those who listen: beware of any system — political, religious, or cultural — that tells you what to believe without allowing you to question why. Cherish your capacity to reason, for it is the birthright of freedom. True education invites disagreement; it does not punish it. It opens minds; it does not close them. And when someone claims to have a perfect grasp of human identity or morality, remember Peterson’s warning: such certainty often conceals a will to power.

So, O seeker of truth, walk the harder path — the path of inquiry, not indoctrination. Read deeply, question honestly, and hold fast to the courage of your own mind. For in that courage lies the only safeguard against tyranny — the freedom to think, to doubt, and to seek truth for yourself. As Peterson teaches through both word and example, true education is not the molding of belief, but the awakening of the soul.