I write as the director of an educational center, with the discomfort of self-criticism. The recent error in the allocation of teaching positions It's not just a technical issue; it's a reflection of a system that, for years, has been plagued by serious structural deficiencies. However, this precariousness has often been disguised by an equally worrying problem: the proliferation of smoke tasks. These smoke tasks are not an accident, but rather a strategy used to give the appearance that things are being done and to hide an uncomfortable reality: the lack of real resources in schools. And, despite being aware of this, we administrators have learned to live with them.
Every school year, we fill out forms that no one reads, rewrite documents with changing terminology, and deploy plans that absorb hours without improving learning. We've grown accustomed to a noise made of smoke tasks that serves as a screen for the underlying problems: lack of resources, excessively high ratios, and the absence of support teams. And we often collaborate because it's the price of staying within the official narrative.
The educational world has a surprising knack for integrating practices without critical debate, with almost dogmatic arguments. Concepts like "innovation" or "transformation" are presented as indisputable truths, but rarely is the impact of the actual positive assessed. We focus a lot, but not always on what truly transforms: teaching time and student support.
Digitalization is a clear example. Devices have been purchased, but without a pedagogical plan or technical support. Principals spend hours managing inventories and incidents, while teachers act as improvised technicians. Personally, I've spent more time talking about smoke tasks than learning strategies.
Mentoring and innovation plans could make sense with clear objectives and recognized time. But too often they've become smoke-task filters that serve more to demonstrate activity than to improve teaching. And here, too, we must engage in self-criticism: we administrators have accepted this logic, for fear that the school will be perceived as lacking innovation.
The key issue is the budget. If we want an education that transforms and guarantees equal opportunities, a clear commitment is needed: to place education above 5.5% of GDP. But this investment only makes sense if it translates into real resources in the classroom: reducing ratios, expanding guidance and EAP teams, stabilizing staff, offering technical support, and protecting teacher time.
Time is the scarcest resource and the one most stolen by smoke tasks. Time to prepare lessons sensibly, coordinate, and establish connections with families and students. I see every day how administrators and teachers exhaust ourselves with these tasks while what really matters takes a backseat.
It's not just about better management. It's a structural problem: we've normalized a labyrinth that consumes time and energy and, in many cases, only serves to mask underlying shortcomings. If we want an education that repairs and transforms, we need a collective exercise in self-criticism and a clear demand: putting education at the center, with real budget and resources in the classroom.
