Can acquiring knowledge be easy and fun? Are stress-free schools and effortless teaching conceivable? It’s not that simple. The human brain likes hardship, even if it is very defensive about it. 

A teenager comes home from school in the afternoon, devours their lunch, and then sits down to their lesson. The lamp on the desk stays on late; the pen scrapes against the paper. Equations are being solved, dates are being written, gaps are being filled in, words are being memorised, and material is being repeated. This image of school is deeply imprinted on us. We derisively call it the “Prussian school” because it was Prussia that, in 1819, was the first in Europe to introduce universal compulsory education (admittedly after earlier regional attempts). “Coercion,” we say with disgust today, and we want to see it as a privilege to a lesser and lesser extent. 

Exams, tests, admissions, high school exams, and studies—each of these stages is considered extremely important in school culture. Thus, the student is obligated to constantly prepare—that is, to make an effort. On average, it takes twelve years. It is also common knowledge that school imparts knowledge that should be consolidated at home. After lessons, you have to “catch up” with the unfinished material because another traditional duty is taken very seriously—checking progress. On the one hand, parents demand good results and diligence from their children, and, on the other, they want to provide them with a happy and carefree childhood. Libertarian views are becoming more and more popular: abolish compulsory schooling, ban homework. We also like to say that school is not work and students often work harder than an average worker because after a few—usually six or seven—hours spent at desks, they still fill in exercise books, solve mathematical problems, or take private lessons. 

But let us leave for a moment the institution of the school with its centuries-old defects and consider whether we