It's simple social engineering. Paper goes in and paper comes out. Paper is the object we use to shuffle children across the bottomless pit--the deeper it goes, the more we feel the urge to build them a bridge made out of it. Bureaucracy is the function that has replaced a human being's love for teaching a child with a delicate utilitarian mechanism, and paper is its food source. The industry that has replaced our charismatic ambition to care for children runs on, and for the sake of, money, permits, licenses, and paperwork. Somewhere between the mandates, the sign-in sheets, and the health codes, children are left stumbling around without direction, cared for but not cared about. Paper is the first and last concern.
Somewhere in time, the ancient practice of pederasty was replaced by pedagogy, and when that happened, it was declared throughout the land that no more will people work with, live with, teach, or care for a child based on their personal ambition to do the best work they can for the life of a child. When fears gave in to bureaucracy, any notion of doing one's work out of love was swept under, and all that remained was cold, effortless, mechanistic, faceless, formation. A comfortable embrace was taken away for a wire frame. The soft cloth was just too dangerous. It is at that point, sometime in the Industrial Revolution, when people stopped caring because they wanted to care, and only if they had to.
When once it was love begetting good works, it has become paper begetting paper. Paperwork begetting profits. Good men shirked off. To give in to accomplish such desire to work with kids within the system is to give up your compassion for doing such. It's to surrender to paper. Professionals are paper people in a paper world.
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