By Yanis Varoufakis
October 9, 2026

When, in the name of political moderation, the centrist establishment brands every sensible, progressive alternative to severe austerity as "nonsense" or radical folly, they inevitably paint themselves into a corner. By narrowing the spectrum of acceptable economic policy to a singular, rigid commitment to fiscal contraction, these leaders leave the electorate with only one viable path for venting their frustration: an electable rebellion. Currently, the far right stands ready and willing to supply that rebellion, and the consequences of this dynamic are playing out in real-time across France.

The recent, widespread unrest triggered by the deteriorating state of France’s public schools is not merely a localized grievance regarding classroom conditions or teacher pay; it is a diagnostic symptom of a deeper, chronic malaise born from years of systematic austerity. Despite clear evidence that the social fabric is fraying under the weight of these policies, the establishment sirens continue to sing the same tired song of fiscal tightening. The latest iteration of this narrative comes from Emmanuel Moulin, the governor of the Banque de France, who has publicly advocated for massive budget cuts. His justification is framed in the language of existential financial survival: the need to avert the "risk of being gradually strangled by rising interest rates."

This framing, however, ignores the circular and self-defeating nature of such logic. If the French state proceeds with these large-scale cuts, the immediate result will be a further inflammation of social tensions in a nation already on edge. More importantly, the vital public investment required to modernize the economy—in education, green infrastructure, and technology—will vanish, leaving France with a stagnant economy and an even deeper debt crisis. As Germany grapples with the slow-motion trauma of deindustrialization and faces its own surge in far-right sentiment, France’s public debt is rapidly emerging as the next great fault line in the European project.

To understand the gravity of the situation in France, one must look at the way the political center has handled the concept of "sensibility." For years, centrists have positioned themselves as the only adults in the room, characterizing any departure from austerity as fiscally irresponsible. By delegitimizing the debate surrounding debt and growth, they have effectively disenfranchised millions of voters who feel the daily impact of crumbling public services. When the mainstream refuses to offer a path that balances fiscal sustainability with social equity, they create a vacuum. Into that vacuum steps the far right, which has mastered the art of co-opting the anger of the marginalized and framing it as a nationalist crusade against an out-of-touch elite.

The crisis in the school system is the perfect microcosm of this failure. Public education, once the pride of the French Republic and the primary engine of social mobility, has been starved of resources for years. Teachers are overwhelmed, infrastructure is decaying, and parents see a system that no longer delivers on the promise of equality. When protesters take to the streets, they are not just asking for more money; they are asking for a state that prioritizes the welfare of its citizens over the dictates of a ledger. Yet, the response from figures like Governor Moulin is to double down on the very policies that created the deficiency. This disconnect between the lived reality of the citizenry and the sterile, numbers-driven approach of the central bank creates a fertile ground for political extremism.

The argument that we must cut spending to avoid being "strangled" by interest rates is a classic example of the austerity trap. If interest rates are indeed the primary threat, they are often a reflection of a lack of confidence in the growth potential of an economy. By slashing budgets, the state depresses demand and stifles the very investment that could generate the future tax revenues necessary to service that debt. It is a cycle of managed decline that masquerades as prudent management. History has repeatedly shown that in the long run, growth is the only sustainable way to manage debt. Yet, the current European orthodoxy remains stubbornly focused on the arithmetic of the present, ignoring the human and economic costs of the future.

The broader European context makes this situation particularly volatile. Germany, the continent’s traditional economic anchor, is currently witnessing the erosion of its industrial base. The German model—long dependent on cheap energy and a highly skilled workforce—is being tested by global shifts and internal constraints. As Germany’s economic engine sputters, the political stability that underpinned its domestic and European influence is being challenged by a rising far right. If France, the second-largest economy in the bloc, follows suit, the political architecture of the European Union will face its most significant threat since its inception.

The danger here is not just that the far right might gain power, but that the centrist establishment will continue to mimic the rhetoric and policies of the right in a desperate, failed attempt to regain relevance. We have already seen this play out in various European capitals: centrists adopt harsher stances on immigration, security, and fiscal policy, hoping to peel back voters from the extremes. Instead, they succeed only in validating the extremist narrative, making the far-right agenda appear mainstream and acceptable. By the time they realize their error, the damage to democratic institutions is often irreparable.

The situation in France serves as a clarion call. The "sensible" path advocated by the current establishment is, in truth, the path of least resistance for the status quo, but it is a path that leads directly toward societal fracture. There is no alternative to a serious, honest debate about what the state is for. If the French government continues to prioritize the demands of financial markets over the needs of its schools, hospitals, and public services, it will inevitably find itself presiding over a nation that is both economically broken and politically ungovernable.

The insistence that austerity is the only way to avert catastrophe is a dangerous delusion. It ignores the reality that a state cannot survive if it abandons its people. The "rebellion" that voters are turning to is not an accident; it is the logical conclusion of a political system that has ceased to listen to the anxieties of its people. If the center wishes to survive, it must stop treating alternative economic visions as "nonsense" and start engaging with the reality of a society that is tired of paying for a crisis it did not create. Without a shift toward an investment-led, socially conscious economic strategy, France will continue to drift toward the extremes, and the debt will remain not just a fiscal burden, but a ticking time bomb at the heart of Europe.

The irony is that the establishment believes they are preventing chaos by maintaining the status quo, when in fact, they are the ones fostering it. By refusing to acknowledge the systemic failures that have left public services in ruins, they are effectively telling the public that their pain is irrelevant. When a citizen sees their children’s school failing and hears the governor of the central bank demanding further cuts, they are not hearing a plan for financial stability; they are hearing a rejection of their future. This is the bedrock upon which the far right builds its power. Unless the discourse changes to reflect the necessity of public investment and the restoration of the social contract, the instability currently manifesting in French streets will only deepen, turning a fiscal issue into a defining crisis for the future of the nation.