Last month, choice hit some turbulence. School choice referenda were on the ballot in three states—deep-red Nebraska and Kentucky and purple Colorado—and lost solidly in all three. In Kentucky, Trump won by 30 points, but the choice initiative (a constitutional amendment that would’ve allowed state funding for non-public education) lost by 30. In Nebraska, Trump won by 20 points while choice lost by 14 (as choice opponents successfully repealed legislation that used state funds to finance private school scholarships). For a movement that’s been flying high, fueled by previous legislative wins in other red states, twin blowouts in two home games should prompt some reflection.

After all, school choice has been on a historic winning streak. In the past five years, education savings accounts went from a nifty idea to a concrete reality, microschools took off, and voucher programs exploded. The reasons aren’t hard to fathom. During the pandemic, mediocre returns on remote learning, woke excesses, and school closures taught parents they couldn’t necessarily count on school districts. They were left hungry for alternatives.

What parents wanted was immensely practical. This wasn’t about market theory. It was about helping parents find schools that served their children’s needs, kept their doors open, and embraced shared values. Indeed, liking choice didn’t mean parents wanted to defund traditional public schools; rather, the lion’s share of them consistently said they wanted more choice and also still liked their local schools.

In response, school choice took an overdue turn towards the universal and the concrete. Since around the launch of Milwaukee’s pioneering voucher program in 1990 until 2020, choice had been pitched as a lifeboat for America’s worst-served students. Advocates mostly sought to limit programs to impoverished families while banging on about “failing public schools” and the wonders of free markets. During the pandemic, things shifted. Choice proposals became universal and the pitch more prosaic. The result: a series of big wins.

After 30 years of bumpy flying followed by three years of soaring success, last month’s setbacks are an opportunity to check the instruments and monitor school choice’s flight path. As the Wall Street Journal’s Matt Barnum reported, “The [referendum] results suggest a divide between Republican lawmakers and voters, many of whom have said in opinion surveys that they are generally dissatisfied with what they view as a ‘woke’ agenda in public education but still like their own children’s local schools.” This seems like it deserves a little noodling.

Over the past month, the inclination among many in the choice community has been to minimize the setbacks or to wave them away. My friends, Cato’s Colleen Hroncich and Neal McCluskey, argued:

[In Kentucky], some of the natural disadvantages of choice-through-referendum were at work. Voters were bombarded with messages for and against the amendment, with the two sides each raising about the same amount:  $8 million. But school districts, the Kentucky School Boards Association, and teachers unions lobbied heavily against the measure, warning that the amendment—which would not itself have created any choice—would destroy public schooling . . . In Nebraska, the education establishment likewise waged an intense campaign against choice.

They cheerfully insisted, “Even with all these forces arrayed against choice, no fewer than 1‑in‑3 voters supported it, showing many people very much want more than just public schools.” (Now, that seems like some really dubious spin. Is pulling 33 percent of the vote really something to write home about?) My frequent coauthor, EdChoice’s irrepressible Mike McShane, similarly wrote of the 0-for-3 showing:

None of this really matters . . . While it is disappointing that students in these states will be denied opportunities, school choice is still on the march. The governor of Indiana won against an explicitly anti-school choice challenger. Legislative majorities in states that have passed expansive school choice bills were voted back in . . . NBC’s Chuck Todd went so far as to connect Republicans’ success with Latino voters to school choice. That is where the action is, and it is all trending in school choice’s direction.

Chuck Todd also got a shout-out from Jeb Bush. In a column boldly titled “This Election, Families Made Their Voices Heard on School Choice,” Bush noted,

As election results poured in last week, NBC political commentator Chuck Todd specifically credited school choice for record Republican gains among Latino voters. These families—like all families—want a voice in their children’s education. They want to feel their tax dollars are funding schools that prioritize quality and accountability.

Look, Chuck Todd seems like a smart guy, and choice has clearly been a factor in GOP gains among Black and Latino voters between 2020 and 2024. But the fact remains that there were only three instances in which school choice was specifically on the ballot last month—and choice got shut out. I get the impulse to look for silver linings, but those results aren’t really a recipe for triumphalism.

I mean, think about that other pro-choice movement for a moment. Post-Dobbs, the abortion debate was reshaped by a series of big pro-choice referendum wins, even in red states. That built momentum, intimidated Republicans, and moved the center. Now, just imagine if pro-choice forces had gotten smacked around on referenda in deep-blue states like Maryland and Massachusetts. It would’ve been read as an obvious setback, period—no matter how poorly the referenda were worded or how many resources the opposition mobilized.

And I was struck by the takes of school choice supporters who did acknowledge the defeats. ExcelinEd’s Ben DeGrow argued, “Opponents have once again shown they can unsettle enough voters with rhetoric that ultimately denies students needed educational opportunities.” Jim Waters, president of Kentucky’s free-market Bluegrass Institute who was surprised by the size of the defeat, explained that rural voters have “emotional” ties to local public schools and hoped a federal choice program would allow in-state advocates “to bypass the establishment”—declaring “they wouldn’t be able to stop this.”

There is a lot one can say about such responses.

For a long time, we were told that legislatures could only pass narrowly targeted school choice bills because teachers unions were too powerful, opponents’ pockets were too deep, or suburban and rural GOP legislators feared angering their public school parents and educators.

Guess what? In a swath of red and purple states, those barriers have been breached in the past three years. That makes it disconcerting to hear the old excuses dusted off with regard to the referendum losses. Now, don’t get me wrong: These particulars obviously matter, and it’s certainly true that choice still has a lot of momentum behind it.

But it’s worth asking how it is that teachers unions can crush a choice referendum in red states even as their candidates are getting routed up and down the ballot. It’s not like unions stopped fighting voucher bills and ESAs in the statehouses. They’ve used the same scary rhetoric to unsettle voters and have appealed to the same emotional connections. And political scientists have long suggested that interest groups are most powerful when working in the shadowy confines of legislative bodies (twisting arms and trading favors), not in raucous public debates. So, why did unions and the public school lobby suddenly prove so much more potent at the ballot box? Why were red-state voters disinclined to vote for choice in the privacy of the voting booth when red-state legislators have been willing to publicly do so on the floor?

The answers are critical, because the major choice wins have been in red states. If those red-state politics are really more fragile than they appear to be, that’s an issue. If voters who say they generally support choice actually have significant qualms that aren’t showing up in the polling data, that’s a problem. Meanwhile, setbacks like these are sure to embolden opponents and sow doubts among choice-friendly officeholders.

And the suggestion that Congress needs to help choice advocates “bypass” opposition in Kentucky should scare the heck out of those who can recall that same plea being made on behalf of No Child Left Behind, teacher evaluation, or the Common Core—and how badly it ultimately boomeranged. A core strength of the school choice movement has long been its deep roots in states and communities. Unlike so many edu-fads, choice has never been able to skip past the hard work of forging local coalitions.

For what it’s worth, it strikes me that, in Kentucky and Nebraska, choice advocates forgot what had fueled their recent success. The tough work of navigating legislatures has brought a healthy discipline to choice advocacy. In wooing individual legislators, advocates have focused on program design, showing minimal short-term budget impact on district schools, and delivering the practical, reassuring message, “We just want to give families more options.” The referenda fights lacked that tight focus. The appeals got too online and too abstract. The excitable choice evangelists suddenly loomed much larger. Meanwhile, advocates ran ads that embraced the “pick a side” rhetoric. Consequently, the pro-choice case got framed by sound bites about the “magic of markets,” the need to “blow up zip code schooling,” and the case against “failing public schools.” The question then became: Are you for or against your local public schools?

Look, I could be wrong about this. But that’s why we need to hash out just what went down. After all, education is littered with the detritus of once high-flying reforms that lost their moorings.

It’s understandable that folks are reluctant to have this conversation. There’s a desire not to draw attention to bad news or negative narratives. There’s an impulse to demonstrate one’s team spirit. There’s fear that publicly acknowledging concerns can be read as a sign of going soft, signaling weakness, and alienating allies. The result is a temptation to put on a happy face and power through. But that kind of thinking is how a temporary loss of altitude turns into a deep spiral.

I’ve got a buddy who’s a pilot for United. I once asked him what advice he’d give a newbie about handling turbulence when you’re flying at 500 miles an hour. He said, “A good first tip? Keep your eyes wide open.”

Frederick Hess is an executive editor of Education Next and the author of the blog “Old School with Rick Hess.”