Who Decides What Gets Taught? Inside the Curriculum-Setting Process

When I graduated from high school in the early 1990s, I had never heard the term “compound interest” explained in a classroom. I didn’t know how credit cards actually worked. No one walked me through what a lease agreement meant or why an emergency fund mattered.

Thirty years later, my sons are in a different school system in a different state. The textbooks are newer. The technology is better. The buildings are nicer.

But when I ask them what they’ve learned about managing money, the answer is the same: not much.

A generation passed. The gap is still there.

That’s when I stopped asking “why didn’t anyone teach me this?” and started asking something different: Who actually decides what gets taught in American public schools? And why has financial literacy been left out for so long?

I thought there would be a simple answer. There isn’t.


There Is No “They”

When people find out that financial literacy isn’t taught in most schools, the first instinct is to look for someone to blame. The federal government. The state. The school board. Teachers.

Here’s what I learned: there is no single authority responsible for what American students learn.

Education in the United States is a state and local matter. The federal government has no authority to mandate curriculum. The Department of Education can incentivize and fund and publish guidelines. But it cannot tell a school in Florida or Ohio or California what to teach.

That power belongs to the states. And within each state, it splinters further. State legislatures pass laws. State boards of education set standards. District superintendents interpret those standards. Principals and teachers decide what actually happens in the classroom.

The result isn’t a system. It’s 13,000 school districts making their own choices.

If you want to understand why financial literacy fell through the cracks, this is where it starts.


The People You’ve Never Heard Of

State standards don’t appear out of thin air. They’re shaped by organizations most people have never heard of.

The Council for Economic Education publishes the National Content Standards in K-12 Economics. Textbook writers use it. Test developers use it. State curriculum committees use it as a reference. But the Council is careful to note that these standards are voluntary. States and districts can take what they like and ignore the rest.

Suggestions, not requirements.

Then there are the textbook publishers. A handful of major companies dominate the market. What gets printed reflects what the largest states are willing to buy. Texas and California, because of their size, have outsized influence on what appears in textbooks nationwide. If those states don’t prioritize personal finance, publishers don’t either.

Testing companies play a similar role. What gets tested gets taught. When standardized assessments focus on reading, math, and science, those subjects get the most instructional time. The most resources. The most attention. Personal finance, which appears on almost no high-stakes tests, gets squeezed out.

None of these actors set out to exclude financial literacy. But the system they’ve built has that effect.


The Federal Government’s Limited Role

You might think the federal government would step in to fix a gap this obvious. Financial decisions affect every American. The consequences of poor financial literacy—debt, bankruptcy, retirement insecurity—create costs that ripple across the entire economy.

In 2003, Congress did take action. The Fair and Accurate Credit Transactions Act created something called the Financial Literacy and Education Commission. Its job was to develop a national strategy to promote financial literacy.

Twenty-three federal agencies sit on this commission. The Department of the Treasury chairs it. The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau is vice chair. The list includes the Department of Education, the Federal Reserve, the SEC, the FDIC, and more.

On paper, it sounds impressive.

In practice, the commission has no budget. No dedicated staff. It cannot mandate curriculum. It cannot compel states to do anything. Its main outputs are annual reports to Congress and a website called MyMoney.gov.

This is the federal government’s most direct engagement with financial literacy education. And it has no power to change what happens in a single classroom.


A Patchwork of State Mandates

The real action is at the state level. And here, things are finally starting to shift. Unevenly.

As of 2025, 27 states have passed laws guaranteeing that all public high school students will take at least one semester of personal finance before graduation. That’s up from 8 states in 2020. California’s landmark legislation in 2024 was a major turning point.

But “guarantee” is a word that deserves scrutiny.

Of the 27 states with mandates, only 10 have fully implemented them. The other 17 are still phasing in, with full implementation stretching to 2031. And even where the mandate is active, quality varies.

Take Florida, where I live. Financial literacy is required for graduation. But it’s a half-credit requirement. One semester. Compare that to the four years of English and math we require. We’ve decided those subjects are foundational enough to teach every year throughout high school. Personal finance gets a fraction of that.

In the 23 states without guarantees, access is fractured. Only 12.7% of students are required to take a personal finance course. The rest either have access to an elective most won’t take, get some instruction “embedded” in other courses, or have no exposure at all.

The disparities are stark. In states without mandates, students in high-poverty schools have half the access to financial education as students in wealthier schools. Students in majority-Black and Hispanic schools have less access than those in predominantly white schools.

Policy is the equalizer. When states mandate personal finance, the gaps shrink. When they don’t, inequality persists.


Who Has the Power to Change This?

If the system is this fragmented, who can actually fix it?

The most direct path is through state legislatures. When lawmakers pass a graduation requirement, districts have to comply.

California shows how this can happen. A grassroots campaign gathered over 880,000 signatures to put a personal finance requirement on the ballot. Faced with that level of public support, the legislature acted first. They passed Assembly Bill 2927 with bipartisan support. Governor Newsom signed it in June 2024.

State boards of education also have power. In some states, they can mandate curriculum through rulemaking without waiting for legislation.

Districts and principals don’t have to wait for anyone. Fresno Unified in California expanded personal finance electives to all its high schools before the state mandate took effect. They didn’t ask permission. They just did it.

Advocacy organizations have been surprisingly effective. Next Gen Personal Finance, a nonprofit that provides free curriculum and teacher training, has been a driving force behind the recent wave of state mandates. Their model is simple: provide free resources, support implementation, track progress publicly. It’s changed the political calculus in state after state.

Parents and students, notably, have been mostly absent from these fights. Curriculum battles are fought by educators, administrators, and advocacy groups. The people most affected rarely have a seat at the table.


Why Decades Pass Without Change

Understanding who has power doesn’t explain why that power went unused for so long.

Part of the answer is structural. Curriculum space is zero-sum. Every hour spent on personal finance is an hour not spent on something else. Adding a requirement means displacing something, and every subject has defenders.

Part of it is political. Financial literacy lacks a powerful constituency. Textbook publishers don’t profit from it. Testing companies don’t assess it. There’s no financial literacy lobby the way there are lobbies for STEM or athletics.

Part of it is evidentiary. For years, research on financial education was mixed. Some studies showed modest effects. Others showed none. Skeptics used this as cover to resist mandates. Only recently has clearer evidence emerged that dedicated courses—not brief modules tucked into other classes—actually work.

And part of it is just inertia. The American education system is built for stability, not change. Curriculum standards get reviewed every decade or so. Textbooks take years to update. Teacher training moves slowly. The burden of proof falls on those pushing for change. The status quo needs no justification.

The result is a system that can go decades without addressing an obvious gap. Even when the consequences are everywhere.


The Generational Through-Line

I think about my own education and my sons’ education. What strikes me most is not the gap itself. It’s that the gap persisted.

I graduated into a world where credit cards were already everywhere. Student loans were already a fixture. The 401(k) had already replaced the pension. The financial decisions facing young adults were already complex and consequential.

Nobody taught me how to navigate any of it.

My sons are graduating into a world where those same forces have only intensified. Gig work and variable income are more common. Housing costs eat a bigger share of earnings. The financial products available are more numerous and more confusing.

The system had thirty years to recognize this and adapt. It didn’t.

Not because the problem was invisible. Not because the solution was unclear. But because the structure of American education spreads responsibility so thin that no one is accountable for what gets left out.

The question I keep asking is simple: What will it take?

The recent wave of state mandates suggests an answer. Sustained pressure. Advocacy organizations. Ballot initiatives. Parent coalitions. Applied state by state, year after year. It’s slow. It’s grinding. It requires people to care about a problem that won’t show up on any test score.

But it’s working.

In 2020, 8 states guaranteed personal finance education. Today, 27 do. By 2031, nearly two-thirds of American high school students will take a personal finance course before they graduate.

That’s progress. It’s also a reminder of how much time was lost. How many students graduated unprepared because the system couldn’t get out of its own way.

My sons might be among the last generation to slip through the gap.

I hope so.


Sources

  • Next Gen Personal Finance, 2025 State of Financial Education Report
  • Council for Economic Education, National Content Standards in K-12 Economics, 3rd Edition (2025)
  • Financial Literacy and Education Commission, Strategy for Assuring Financial Empowerment (SAFE) Report, FY 2023-2024
  • Fair and Accurate Credit Transactions Act of 2003
  • OECD, PISA 2022 Results: How Financially Smart Are Students?