On Nonformal Education and Human Development
Yégor Karimov Article Edited 20.02.2026
Yégor Karimov Article Edited 20.02.2026
"Everyone can be a teacher, everyone is a learner" — a simple, working tenet of nonformal education that emerged, seemingly quite spontaneously, during a conversation with my old friend Olivier in Tallinn’s Harju Park some years ago. We were discussing the very nature of our academy and its guiding idea.
In the principle "everyone can be a teacher..." lies the intuition of a middle path in education and autodidacticism. It would be a mistake to interpret this as a mere role-playing game where everyone assumes the right to instruct. What matters here is modality. The word "can" denotes the modality of possibility, not obligation. Much like Aristotle’s sea battle tomorrow—which necessarily either will or will not happen (Aristotle, On Interpretation, Chapter 9)—our proposition concerns future, often spontaneous events. Their truth cannot be unequivocally established until the event itself comes to pass.
Yet there is more to it. The proper understanding resides within, in the perspective of the one who discovers the "teacher." The implication is not that I or another person is a teacher, but rather that "everyone" can experientially become one for me. Crucially, the other person may be entirely oblivious to this. Everything is rooted in my disposition—a deeply personal orientation that entails attentiveness, active listening, and a gentle, respectful regard for all people, irrespective of their status or authority. And this is not because it is "required" or "expected," but simply because this disposition is the natural consequence of my own profound inner need, which requires no outward declaration.
I frequently recall Merab Mamardashvili’s words concerning Marcel Proust’s conception of human development: "for Proust, man is not a subject of upbringing, but a subject of development." To sharpen this thought terminologically, we can say — a human being is not an object of upbringing, but a subject of development. This signifies that "teaching" or "molding" a person purely through external imposition is impossible. Or, at the very least, it is a profound fallacy that runs counter to human nature.
Here, Mamardashvili’s insight and our principle of nonformal education align. If development is an internal act that cannot be outsourced, then the maxim "everyone can be a teacher, and everyone is a learner" becomes a way of thinking on this path. Together, these principles merge into a lived practice: I do not wait for a formally appointed expert, but actively seek to glean experience from every encounter. The figure of the teacher ceases to be an external manifestation of authority. It is introjected, becoming an inherent trait of my own—an intimate and ever-present lens, guided by love for people as wellsprings of epiphany, experiences we lack, and the fullness of life.