Be Critical Like Hell

Villano has already extended the official thanks on behalf of the Council of Europe, so I could skip that part—but still, I want to once again thank our hosts here: Charles University, the Ministry, and the Czech authorities for welcoming us. You can never be too grateful—well, sometimes you can.

Let me go straight into why we at the Council of Europe consider this partnership, including this Global Forum, so important.

A few days ago, I was invited to a conference at the European School in Strasbourg called Transitions to Democracy. Many people working at the Council of Europe have children who attend this school. I was invited not as the Director for Democracy, but as a parent—alongside colleagues from Central and Eastern Europe—to share our personal testimonies about the time when our countries transitioned from non-democratic, authoritarian regimes to democracy.

I was there with colleagues from Albania and Romania. I'm from Slovenia, which at the time was part of Yugoslavia. The event was organized by history teachers, and we heard many heartfelt, rich testimonies. What struck me was that all of them concluded with a similar message to the students: You are so lucky, you should be grateful to live in a democracy.

And I felt uncomfortable with that message.

My take was a little different. I told the students: You don’t have to be grateful. Not at all.

First, we were speaking about a time of transition to democracy. That’s not how we can describe the world today. Many parts of the world are transitioning away from democracy—at different speeds—and that makes a big difference.

Second, even in those difficult times—materially harder for some than others—when freedoms were limited, we had one immense privilege: we never doubted, not for a moment, that the future would be better. That things would change for the better, and that we were part of that change. That gave us a sense of power, not powerlessness. And that kind of certainty is something young people today often don’t have.

Uncertainty about the future breeds insecurity, loss of confidence, and many challenges to democracy itself.

So I said: Don’t be grateful. You have every right to be frustrated. You have every right to be angry. Just don’t let anyone manipulate your anger—because sooner or later, they’ll use it against you: against your rights, your freedoms, and your interests.

Instead, I told them: Be critical. Be critical like hell.

At that point, the history teachers and school principal started to look a bit nervous, so I had to clarify. Being critical doesn’t mean rejecting everything with cynicism or indifference. Critical thinking means challenging the information you receive—but also challenging your own convictions, opinions, and beliefs, testing them against knowledge and facts. It’s a constant process, and it makes you powerful.

That group of 17- and 18-year-olds, most of whom will soon start university, will now have the opportunity to grow into true critical thinkers—understanding the importance of knowledge, contributing to it, valuing science and data. And that, to me, is the democratic mission of higher education.

Because universities are not political institutions. Their mission is not to steer young people toward one ideology or another. And in my experience, they don't—except perhaps in a world where liberal democracy and basic decency are portrayed as left-wing controversies. In such a world, let’s face it—we’re all branded as raging communists.

That’s one part of the mission.

The second crucial role of universities is their leadership in science, research, and problem-solving. Populism—especially authoritarian populism—thrives in uncertainty. It feeds on our collective inability to find effective solutions to global challenges: environmental, demographic, technological, economic, you name it.

We face a stark choice: either we develop and apply effective solutions based on knowledge and science, or we allow populism to continue exploiting fears and undermining democracy.

The third element—and a challenge to both us and to universities—is the perception that critical thinking is reserved for university graduates. That we are the enlightened few, saving democracy from the so-called "ignorant masses."

If you think that’s a malicious caricature, you’re right. But if you think public opinion isn’t being shaped by such caricatures, you haven’t been paying attention. And that should concern us.

We live in times of declining trust—not only in universities but in knowledge, in science, in facts. We must rebuild that trust. Democracy needs electricians and plumbers, to borrow a phrase from a recent White House spokesperson. Electricians and plumbers who are critical thinkers, who value knowledge, who trust in science.

Without them, everything else falls apart.

This is also about access to education, about openness, about the engagement of universities in their local and broader communities. And that’s something we’ll discuss in this forum.

At the Council of Europe, we’ve launched the Secretary General’s New Democratic Pact. Its overarching ambition is to find ways to strengthen and make democracies more resilient. And the path to that resilience lies in restoring confidence—confidence in democracy, in institutions, and in one another. Education—especially higher education—is central to that effort.

Villano will later speak in more detail about our work.

Let me close with one final thought.

At the Council of Europe, we are officials of an international organization—which is a polite way of saying we’re bureaucrats. We do our work according to the professional standards of our roles, with objectivity, impartiality, sometimes even detachment. And we respect that.

But this is also not a job you can do without personal conviction—without ideas, and without passion. That’s why this partnership and this forum are so important. It’s where we meet people from around the world who share our passion and belief in democracy and education.

This conviction became even stronger for me recently when I met a group of Serbian students who cycled from Novi Sad to Strasbourg to speak to European institutions. A few days later, I met with a group of professors from Serbia.

I rarely encounter such articulate, committed, intelligent young people—calm but determined. What struck me was how much the students spoke of their concern for their professors, and how much the professors worried about their students. They both asked: Are we doing something to help? To protect universities, to protect academic freedom and student rights?

And I said: Yes, and we will do even more.

Because democracy cannot be defended or rebuilt from the outside alone. But when we work with those who are committed to that goal, we in the Council of Europe—together with this partnership—can do truly important things.

And I promise: we will. I fully intend to keep that promise.

Thank you very much