When a governor, mayor, education secretary, superintendent, or big donor previews a new initiative, do you have an informed guess on how it will play out in real life?

If so, you’re a wonk.

Will anyone listen to you?

Probably not.

Education is a sphere where dumb ideas thrive because nobody has enough juice to tell The Bigwigs how their idea will probably fail.

Hold that thought.

* * *

Do you know the names Polymarket and Kalshi?

They’re prediction markets. They let people bet on what will happen in lots of arenas other than sports—like politics. And they’re having a moment.

• CNN: “How prediction markets saw something the polls and pundits didn’t”
• New York Times: “Political Betting Markets See Vindication in Trump Victory”
• Wall Street Journal: “A Historic Week for Prediction Bets”

In the Trump–Harris election, these prediction markets got it right, while the “professionals” got it wrong. That is, the army of Davids (an aggregation of individual bettors) beat Goliath (big-name pundits and pollsters).

(One notable French forecaster bet $30 million on Trump. But even this “Trump Whale,” who calls himself “Théo,” accounted for just 2 percent of the combined Trump wagers from thousands of people on Polymarket. Let’s dub him a . . . muscular David.)

* * *

Now let’s return to ed policy. Imagine Edumarket. An army of Davids. Wonks like us. And regular Joes and Jills who just happen to be good at forecasting. All are noticing patterns and smelling B.S.

Let’s say someone gave you a $10,000 account of real money. You could bet on any education effort that would be carefully measured. You could keep any winnings.

With free betting money available, lots of people would want to bet on Edumarket! Now imagine the founder of Edumarket chose 500 insiders (wonks) and 500 generalists (people with no particular experience in education but good track records betting across multiple arenas).

We have 1,000 bettors, each staked with $10,000, for a combined total market of $10 million. That’s enough to get the flywheel turning. After that, people would be free to enter with their own money.

Now let’s return to our wonky situations, where you think you can predict what will happen next but nobody listens to you.

Old Way: Bigwig announces new effort X. Reporters announce it with fanfare or skepticism.

New Way: Edumarket invents a way to bet on X. Maybe X will be evaluated in three years by an independent scholar in a randomized trial. Or maybe X will be evaluated by a particular financial result, like a bond rating. Then bettors jump in. Predictions are made.

Over time, some very positive things happen.

First, some forecasters turn out to be really good. What often happens then is people seek out their opinions in advance. That’s positive.

Second, once bets are made, Bigwigs might change tack midstream. This is probably what political candidates will do more of going forward: “Polls say that we’re tied, but prediction markets show we’re way behind. We need to change strategy.”

Imagine how much “truth serum” prediction markets would inject into our little wonky corner of the world. They tell Bigwigs what they don’t want to hear, the truth nobody in their inner circle will say (even if they think it).

For a one-time charitable investment of $10 million, a big donor could create liquidity that totally rewires what passes for education debate in this country.

For the cost of just a few well-funded randomized controlled trials (probably showing that yet another edtech product or teacher training failed at scale), you could have Edumarket.

For $10 million, instead of trying to persuade Bigwigs to “follow the evidence,” you bet against them and try to embarrass them away from their future mistakes.

Importantly, economists Eva Vivalt and Stefano DellaVigna have already built the bones of this prediction platform, for all social sciences. The back end is ready to roll.

Imagine how much “truth serum” could be injected into our wonky corner of the world.

All for the price of a one-time $10 million charitable investment.*

*Delicious bonus: any philanthropist who could afford $10 million to build Edumarket would undoubtedly personally benefit. All their other tens of millions in education donations would be much better informed!

Mike Goldstein co-leads the Learning Lab at Cuemath. For more on this idea, see here.