EDUCATION IS… A FUNDAMENTAL RIGHT OF FIRST NECESSITY?

Dear reader, today we will talk about the philosophy of education. Let us begin with a few questions: Is education a right, a service, or a product? Something even more complex: Are students users of the educational service, or are they clients? You may want to reflect on these before continuing to read and think about your answer.

Now then, being a teacher implies serving. In a romantic sense, the teacher has been recognized as the artisan who shapes the minds and personalities of the future women and men of our time. The teacher is, therefore, a preacher, a guide, a lover of knowledge whose wisdom illuminates unknown paths for children’s minds. Metaphysically, the role of the teacher is to empower students toward unimaginable limits; civilly, it is to develop human faculties; socially, it is to integrate and multiply the humanity of the student within society itself. That was the idea of the teacher—a notion that prevailed in the 20th century but now resonates as exaggerated and overly idealistic.

There are many stories of success, redemption, and gratitude—stories that feed this myth and magnify the almost sacred image of the teacher. Personally, I prefer the more realistic ones, such as the following anecdote, one that is deeply significant in the field of education, about the student–teacher relationship. On November 19, 1957, French writer and Nobel Prize laureate Albert Camus sent a letter of gratitude to his teacher Louis Germain after receiving the award. He wrote:

“I have received a distinction far greater than I deserve, one I never sought or asked for. But when I heard the news, my first thought was of you. Without you, without the caring hand you extended to the poor child I once was, without your teaching and your example, none of this would have happened. It is not that I attach too much importance to such an honor. But at least it gives me the opportunity to tell you what you have been, and still are, for me, and to assure you that your efforts, your work, and the generous heart you put into your task still live on in one of your former pupils, who, despite the passing years, has never ceased to be your grateful student.”

I value this anecdote because it is real, because it is tangible. We all have one or two teachers who have left that kind of impact on us—the kind that motivates us to keep learning, whether through them, despite them, or without them. And this “without them” should also be understood in a positive sense: for if indeed the teacher is an example, an image to emulate, and a living model of wisdom—whether through preparation, experience, or attitude toward life and the human condition—then yes, even if idealistic, that example of the necessary, the good, and the right remains fundamental.

But how does this influence the perception of education? How should it be viewed? How should it be measured? Should we simply cling to the romantic idea that education is inherently good and unquestionable, thus avoiding the debate of whether it is a right or an obligation? To begin with, any serious reflection must recognize that everything is perfectible. One of the errors of 21st-century education has been to treat it increasingly as a product—something that should instead be a right, like housing, health, or security. Education has been losing its essence.

From here, we must examine whether education should be seen under the logic of clientelism or simply as a service to the user. The notion of the teacher as a “public servant” has blurred the lines of what kind of service the teacher truly provides. Let us recall Paulo Freire’s words: “Education is not a commodity, the teacher is not a provider, and the student is not a client but a human being in formation.” Education cannot, and must not, be viewed as a business, product, or service. If conceived as such, it becomes a consumer good instead of a human right, shifting its role from a social and ethical responsibility to an economic and utilitarian transaction.

This capitalist conception has permeated society, where the teacher is reduced to a service provider and the student to a client or consumer. In doing so, we abandon the philosophical foundation that education is about formation: where the student is a subject of rights and the teacher a guarantor of those rights. For philosopher Immanuel Kant, “the human being must always be treated as an end in itself, never as a means.” Otherwise, as Karl Marx would warn, students become just another object of the market, while the act of “teaching” loses its essence as a human endeavor. Once more, Paulo Freire reminds us that “education is an act of liberation, not of consumption.” Hence, the State must provide it—though perhaps naively, this assumes the State seeks free citizens and not, as Thomas Hobbes described, the Leviathan that exists to restrain chaos.

And so we must reflect: Is Mexico truly a “good State”? That is left as homework. But following Hobbes, the State should control education, for knowledge without oversight (in the hands of individuals) could be dangerous: “education must form obedient, rational citizens loyal to the sovereign.” Another question left open: Where is the New Mexican School (NEM) heading?

Now, to distinguish between user, client, and subject of rights:

• If the student is a user, education is simply a service they access.
• If a client, they not only access it but can demand quality—thus, education becomes a product to be bought and evaluated.
• But as a subject of rights, the student receives guarantees from the State to achieve learning, making learning itself—not mere access or consumption—the ultimate goal.

Returning to Camus’ letter, we are reminded that individual achievement is the product of collective effort. Excellence (such as a Nobel Prize) begins with imperfect letters and evolves through years of learning, unlearning, and relearning. The ultimate end of education, therefore, is to always learn.

To summarize:

• As a user, the student participates passively/reactively.
• As a client, the student consumes and demands.
• As a subject of rights, the student participates and constructs their own formation.

Ethically, then, education may be seen as: functional (user), transactional (client), or humanistic and critical (subject of rights).

According to data from INEGI and the Secretariat of Public Education (SEP), in the 2023/2024 school year, the National Education System (SEN) enrolled 33,062,447 students at all levels. Primary education had the highest enrollment with 13,154,354 students, while early childhood education (40 days to 3 years old) had the lowest, at 225,404. Higher education followed with 4,051,691 students in undergraduate, engineering, and postgraduate programs. All of them are recognized as subjects of rights under Mexican law, particularly:

• The Mexican Constitution (Article 3), which enshrines education as a human right.
• The General Law of Education (LGE), which regulates the SEN.
• The General Law on the Rights of Children and Adolescents (LGDNNA), which recognizes minors as full rights-holders.
• The General Law for the Inclusion of Persons with Disabilities, ensuring inclusive and accessible education.
• The Higher Education Law, which ensures gratuity and regulates universities.

Internationally, Article 13 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) defines education as “an indispensable means of realizing other human rights.” Likewise, Article 26 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights establishes education as essential to the full development of the human personality and respect for rights and freedoms.

Thus, both in legal and philosophical terms, education is not just any right—it is a fundamental right of first necessity, essential for human dignity, critical thinking, social participation, and access to better living conditions and other fundamental rights.

Dr. Alan Eliseo Salmerón Nieves