When we think of propaganda, we often imagine wartime posters, state-run media, or dramatic political speeches given by aged politicians. When in reality, propaganda often wears way more casual and modern clothes. It often walks into schools through textbooks, exam papers, or educational media — delivered with the undebatable authority of “official truth.”

Recently in Malta, A-level Italian exam students were presented with an audio comprehension passage that raised my eyebrows. The audio component of the exam told the story of a mixed-nationality family: an Italian father fighting for custody of his daughter, after the Ukrainian mother takes the child to Russia — only to abandon her in an orphanage, where the Italian father later “rescues” her.

Of all the possible topics to test comprehension of italian language — from environmental issues to cultural traditions, technology trends, or even youth mental health — this is the narrative was chosen this year. Maybe because it’s not just a story to comprehend — but a narrative to seed. And maybe it’s not so random. 

Why This Matters

Let’s set aside the political question: Why would this narrative — an emotionally charged, highly specific scenario echoing Kremlin talking points — appear in an academic exam in Malta?
Let’s also ignore, for a moment, the fact that the father — not the mother — was portrayed as the villain, despite the very real and recent tragedies in Malta where women and children were brutally harmed by their husbands, or ignored by the authorities.

Instead, let’s focus purely on critical thinking and the power of propaganda. Exams are more than just tests of knowledge. For many students, especially at A-level, they’re high-stress, high-importance experiences. They carry emotional weight and a sense of trust. What a student reads or hears in that context subconsciously sinks deeper — precisely because of the stress, importance and intensity surrounding it.

So when a political story slips in a government-approved A level exam — without space to challenge it — it’s not just about teaching anymore. It might be a subtle training of what to believe, not how to think.

Propaganda is no longer about convincing you with facts. It’s about making you feel something — about one side being protective and responsible, and the other being erratic and dangerous. When this is inserted into the minds of students at a pivotal moment in their academic careers, it bypasses critical thought.

Why Propaganda in Education Hits Harder

Defenders may say, “It’s just a story.” But stories carry power, especially in structured environments. This wasn’t a creative writing class. This was comprehension. The students were not asked to debate, challenge, or analyse the political dynamics behind the narrative. They were asked to understand and internalise  — as if it would be truth.

Students are not just listening to a story; they are being graded on how well they comprehend and accept it. There is no room — or time — to question the narrative. The setting by default implies truth. And the exam format punishes doubt.

If it’s in the test, it must be okay. If it’s in the test, it must be true.

This false sense of truth is what makes propaganda in education so dangerous. It doesn’t need to persuade — it only needs to plant. And once planted, those emotional responses, assumptions, and perspectives can last for years, especially if never challenged.

What Can Parents Do?

The way I see it, propaganda in education is broader and more psychological than political. As parents, our job isn’t just to support our children academically; it’s also to help them understand the world they’re walking into — giving them various perspectives, not just the ones that are nice to look at.

We can’t monitor every lesson, every test. But we can build a filter in our children’s minds — one that lets them think. Here’s how to begin:

• Teach media literacy. Help them understand who creates the content they consume and what’s their purpose — whether it’s in a test, a TikTok, or a Netflix documentary. Who benefits from the message? What’s left out?

• Ask better questions. Instead of “How was your exam?”, try “What did you think of the story they used in the exam?” Invite them to think beyond the task.

• Create space for disagreement. Even if they parrot a narrative you don’t agree with, don’t shut it down. Let them explore all sides — that’s the beginning of critical thinking.

• Watch for patterns. One odd story is one thing. But repeated narratives that echo official political lines — without balance — are a sign something deeper is happening.

Teaching children to think critically isn’t about making them suspicious — it’s about making them conscious. 

Like a knife, education can be used to help or to harm — it all depends on who’s holding it and why. It can open minds or quietly shape them to fit someone else’s agenda. 

Our responsibility as parents, mentors, and citizens is not to panic or became overly suspicious — but to stay aware, stay involved, and raise a generation that asks better questions.