'No Money for Classes,' Yet 3,000 Teachers Were Left Idle: The Harsh Reality of France Exposed

This is Paris. Today, let's talk about schools. France is currently in turmoil due to high school student protests. Yet the French government appears to lack the capacity to solve the problem.

Scenes of students setting fires, smashing windows, and vandalizing cars in the heart of French cities were broadcast across the globe in real time. Police responded with tear gas, batons, and even water cannons. I visited the scene myself, and stones were flying past my feet in an intensely hostile atmosphere.

As these protests continued for more than two weeks, 6,877 people had been detained as of October 9. Among them, 5,890 were minors—a staggering 86%. A total of 2,376 individuals have been sent to trial, and 1,923 of them are also minors. More than 800 police officers alone have been injured. There are roughly 3,700 high schools in France, and protests erupted at more than one-third of them during this period. Local media have described this as the largest wave of student demonstrations since 1998.

So why on earth are French students so angry? There are three main reasons: first, deteriorated school facilities; second, an absurd shortage of teachers; and third, changes to the university admissions system.

First, let's talk about the poor school facilities. When I went to the protest sites and listened to the students' grievances, conditions in French schools were far worse than expected. One student reported that rats and cockroaches scurry across classrooms during lessons. Others said that roofs had holes and leaked whenever it rained.

[Anop / French student: "I came out because I am angry. The young generation in France is exhausted now. Some students study with 40 people packed into a single classroom. Some even have to stay out in the hallways, and in some places, the ceilings look like they could collapse at any moment."]

On top of that, Europe suffered from severe heat waves exceeding 40°C (104°F) this past summer. It was brutal even in June before summer vacation began. Yet schools lack air conditioning, and many do not even have electric fans. In the winter, heating is equally inadequate, and students reported being told to simply put on more layers of clothing when complaining about the cold. From our perspective, none of this makes sense. But this is the current reality of French schools.

Another issue—the teacher shortage—is truly appalling. When a teacher falls ill, takes maternity leave, or suddenly needs time off, substitute teachers should step in, but vacancies often go unfilled. These are not gaps of just a day or two; teachers frequently remain absent for three or four months at a time. Some students preparing for college admissions had to take exams without receiving instruction because teachers in essential subjects like French or mathematics were missing for three to four months. During the 2024–2025 school year, the total time classes went untaught across France due to a lack of teachers reached 15.4 million hours—accounting for 7.5% of all instructional time. Essentially, classes are canceled for an hour every two days due to the absence of a teacher.

Third, to briefly explain the revised admissions system: in the past, students gained university admission primarily based on their Baccalauréat scores. Now, an additional system called Parcoursup has been introduced, functioning somewhat like a rolling admission screening. However, its admission criteria are opaque and rarely made public. Suspicion also abounds that an informal high school ranking system puts students from suburban, rural, or peripheral schools at a disadvantage. This is precisely why the protests originated in the suburbs. Feeling that they are already marginalized with poor facilities and inadequate teacher assignments, students erupted in fury over perceived reverse discrimination in university admissions. As the demonstrations grew longer and more heated than anticipated, the political sphere could no longer stay silent.

The prime minister met with student delegations, and the minister of education has rolled out countermeasures day after day. Yet the French government appears largely incapable of solving this crisis. First and foremost, fixing school facilities requires substantial funding. Resolving the teacher shortage also demands financial resources to hire additional staff. But France has no money. More than half of French schools were built before 1970. To renovate these aging structures, the French government planned to invest 3 trillion won over five years. According to teachers' unions, however, an annual investment of 8 trillion won over 10 years is necessary to properly repair old schools. While 40 trillion won is needed over the next five years, the state is trying to spend only 3 trillion won. Furthermore, school facilities fall under the jurisdiction of local governments. Amid an acute fiscal squeeze, the cash-strapped French government slashed 5.5 billion euros (8.2 trillion won) from the local government allocation in next year's budget. Funds for repairing school buildings will inevitably be severely lacking.

Now let's examine the teacher shortage. Rather than increasing teaching staff, the French government is actively reducing headcounts. This year alone, 4,000 regular teaching positions were eliminated. The government's rationale is that declining student enrollment justifies shrinking the teaching workforce. At first glance, that might seem plausible, but as mentioned earlier, France is a country where an hour of class is canceled every two days because of a missing teacher. Classrooms are also excessively overcrowded by European standards. Among OECD member nations, only Japan has larger class sizes than France. Instead of utilizing declining student numbers to ease overcrowded classrooms, the government is cutting teaching positions simply to save on labor costs. All of this stems from the country's lack of funds.

There is another reason that makes one feel this country cannot truly resolve the issue—and it is utterly mind-boggling. As public outcry mounted over students suffering absurd disruption from teacher shortages, the minister of education hastily pledged to deploy emergency substitute teachers. Soon after, the ministry announced that 3,000 substitutes had been immediately deployed. Officials may have expected praise, but a wave of backlash erupted immediately. People asked where on earth those 3,000 teachers had been hiding. It turned out they were not temporary hires, but fully salaried, regular civil-service teachers. These 3,000 educators had been receiving their regular salaries while sitting idle simply because local education authorities failed to assign them to schools. The revelation was not that teachers were missing, but that qualified teachers had been kept on the sidelines doing nothing. Even observing from an outsider's perspective, it is completely baffling.

The French government has set next year's education budget at 108 trillion won. Authorities plead that even while drafting a budget that cuts overall spending by 71 trillion won, education spending was increased by nearly 2 trillion won—the only sector alongside defense to receive an increase. Taking inflation into account, however, this virtually frozen education budget appears vastly insufficient to fix the crisis. And while 108 trillion won sounds like a massive sum on paper, both the French government and its public administration appear sorely lacking in the competence needed to resolve the problems facing French students today.

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