A child spends nearly fifteen years in school — from the age of four until seventeen or eighteen. These are the years when the accumulated knowledge of past generations is passed down through lessons in mathematics, science, and literature. But these years are also meant for something deeper: learning how to live among others, how to behave, how to treat people with dignity, and how to take one’s place in society. This vital responsibility does not fall on “the system” in the abstract — it rests, quite directly, on the headmasters and principals who shape the culture of each school.

Good manners are not relics from an older, gentler age. They are the everyday habits that make society liveable. They are expressed in tone, in patience, in consideration, and in the small courtesies of daily life — saying “please,” “thank you,” and “sorry,” listening without interrupting, keeping one’s surroundings clean, and showing respect for others’ time and space. These are the foundations of a civilised personality.

Yet, when we step outside, the collapse of manners is impossible to ignore. People spit on roads, cycle or ride motorcycles on pavements meant for pedestrians, jump queues, arrive late without informing, and talk loudly on phones in public places. Many gossip freely, ignore messages, or dominate conversations. Some throw rubbish out of car windows, speak rudely to waiters and guards, or drive as though the rest of the world does not exist. Impatience at home, arrogance at work, and indifference on the streets have become everyday realities. These are not isolated flaws — they are signals of a society where courtesy has decayed.

And every time we see such behaviour, we must acknowledge an uncomfortable truth: somewhere earlier in life, a headmaster or principal failed this individual. Of course, parents, relatives, media, political culture, and society at large shape behaviour. But the school years — the one structured period of a child’s life — exist precisely to prepare them for adult citizenship. If a grown man spits on the road or jumps a queue, if a young man cycles recklessly on the pavement, if a working adult shouts, blames, litters, or bullies, it means that the school where they spent fifteen years did not succeed in forming their character. The school’s leadership failed to make manners a priority. The child passed exams, but did not pass the far more important test of courtesy.

This responsibility begins with teachers, but it is set and enforced by the headmaster. Teachers must be role models of good manners — polite, patient, respectful in their tone, and composed under pressure. Before expecting children to behave well, every teacher should ask: Am I the example they instinctively admire? We do not learn manners by obeying rules; we learn them by admiring people. When a child sees an adult behaving with quiet dignity, speaking gently, or helping without being asked, admiration becomes imitation. That is how manners root themselves in character.

But for teachers to play this role, headmasters must make it a central expectation. Schools should organise regular workshops on manners — not only for students, but for teachers and parents as well. Adults need reminders that courtesy begins with example. The tone of a school mirrors the conduct of its leadership. If the headmaster speaks with calm authority, treats staff respectfully, and creates an atmosphere of order and dignity, the entire institution reflects that culture. If the leadership tolerates shouting, humiliation, and indifference, students will absorb those behaviours instead.

Schools can go further by creating their own learning materials — videos, posters, stories, or classroom activities — showing examples of good and bad manners suited to different age groups. This can evolve into a core subject shaped by teachers themselves, one that transforms the school’s environment and quietly influences each child who walks through its gates. The change does not happen through rules; it happens through culture. And culture is created by leadership.

Good manners have nothing to do with religion, rituals, or forced obedience. They are not patriotic slogans or compulsory songs. They are simply the daily discipline of living courteously in an increasingly crowded, impatient, and competitive world. In a society where cities are bursting and tempers run short, manners are not optional — they are essential.

India has built digital classrooms, smart labs, and modern campuses. But without courtesy, all this learning stands on weak foundations. A well-mannered young person — one who speaks softly, listens patiently, respects others, and carries himself with dignity — is the finest outcome a school can deliver. And that outcome depends overwhelmingly on the headmaster’s vision and commitment.

If our school heads make manners a priority, they will achieve something far more valuable than producing toppers: they will shape responsible citizens for a civilised nation.