We show that top-down steering creates powerlessness and resistance.
We argue leaders must balance direction with autonomy.
We call for shared ownership instead of imposed control.
Summary
This blog explores how centralized steering in education policy can lead to distance, powerlessness, and resistance. What does it require of leaders to find a balance between providing direction and leaving space?
The recent criticism of top-down steering in education policy is not only a reflection of practical objections, but also of a deeper systemic tension. While the education field hardens under central decisions and uniformity, it becomes increasingly clear that the connection between policy and practice is not strengthened by detailed control, but דווקא by creating space for autonomy and shared ownership. The paradox is striking: the need for steering and control in education, once intended to create stability and equality, now undermines professionals’ sense of involvement and responsibility.
Education is a complex system, in which the distance between policymakers and daily practice seems to be growing. How can leaders restore trust in such a context? How can space be created in which autonomy can flourish without letting go of the reins completely? And how do we, in times of increasing centralization, find the balance between steering and letting go?
The centralization of education policy has major consequences for system dynamics. Where policy once stood closer to practice, it is now often experienced as an external force detached from the reality of teachers and education professionals. Policy measures imposed from above reduce the sense of influence and ownership. This often leads to alienation: people feel like executors of someone else’s decisions, not co-owners of the direction.
From a systemic perspective, this is counterproductive. When people have no influence over decisions that directly affect them, motivation decreases and behavior shifts from proactive to reactive. Leadership that seeks only to increase control thus creates a culture of passivity. We then see that energy that could have been invested in improvement or innovation shifts toward resistance, cynicism, or simply surviving within imposed frameworks.
The experience of powerlessness often leads to protest and resistance, as was recently visible in the education sector. It is important to realize that this protest is not always directed against the content of the policy, but often against the lack of participation and against the way decisions are made.
Psychodynamically, prolonged powerlessness is undermining. It evokes frustration, but also feelings of fear and loss of professional identity. If teachers or other education professionals feel that their craftsmanship is not recognized, a gap emerges between them and the decision-makers. That gap feeds distrust, strengthens defensive behavior, and increases the likelihood that valuable feedback will not be shared.
Fear plays a major role here: fear of losing influence, of unexpected changes in work practice, or of no longer being seen as an expert. Leaders who ignore these feelings risk hardening resistance. Leaders who acknowledge them and engage in conversation build bridges instead.
By actively listening and taking emotions seriously, a leader can redirect the energy contained in protest toward constructive engagement. It takes courage to question one’s own assumptions and make room for another perspective.
Imagine being a school leader confronted with fierce criticism of new policy imposed from above. You can respond by enforcing the policy more strictly, or you can open the conversation. Creating a platform where teachers and staff can share their concerns and ideas can lead to surprisingly high levels of creativity and solution-oriented thinking.
Such an approach does not require abandoning steering, but sharing ownership. It means providing frameworks within which people can develop their own solutions. In practice, this can be done, for example, by translating policy goals into open questions: “How can we as a school achieve this objective in a way that fits our context?”
When people help shape the implementation, engagement increases. A culture of learning and improvement emerges instead of one of obedience and execution.
Every leader in education acts with the best intentions, but not every action has the desired effect. Sometimes, without realizing it, we maintain patterns that limit autonomy. Perhaps by intervening too quickly, or by structuring processes in such a way that little room remains for initiative.
Leadership in times of uncertainty and change requires the courage to also examine one’s own behavior. It requires sharing instead of owning, giving space while still holding direction.
True renewal does not arise from imposing more rules, but from creating conditions in which professionals can fully apply their craftsmanship—for students, for one another, and for the future of education.
Rene de Baaij