The Myth of “Gender-Changing Preschoolers” and the “Gender Lobby”: What Child Protection Should Really Be About

Beyond political slogans, the real question is whether children receive the knowledge, trust and institutional support that can actually keep them safe.

While public debate is often dominated by myths about “gender-changing preschoolers” and a vague, threatening “gender lobby”, far too little is said about what truly matters: the actual protection of children. Yet this is not primarily an ideological question. It is a deeply practical one. Are we able to prepare children in a way that helps them stay safe in an increasingly complex world?

Author: Judit Rudas

Parliamentary debates offer a revealing picture of how a genuine public policy issue can be transformed into political theatre. This is particularly visible in discussions around child protection, where professional considerations are often pushed into the background by political messages built on fear, misunderstanding and oversimplified slogans. In 2026, we are still at a point where conversations about children’s safety are too often shaped not by prevention, education and institutional responsibility, but by stigmatising terms that obscure the real problem rather than clarify it.


Hungarian political language has long had a tendency to turn complex social questions into simple, easily repeated slogans. But child protection is not such a question. It is not enough to manufacture enemies, because the stakes are not communicational success. The real issue is whether children receive protection, knowledge and support. In the political arena, one easily communicable but visibly distorted trope keeps returning: the so-called “gender lobby”, allegedly posing a threat to children. This image, however, is far more a political construction than a real problem.

The question we should actually be discussing is much more serious: how do we protect children? And what role should education, age-appropriate information and civil society actors play in this? The answer is simpler than it may seem. Child protection, education and civil organisations do not stand in opposition to one another. Together, they form the basis of a child and youth protection network that can actually work.

Child Protection Starts with Safety, Not Ideology

When we speak about child protection, we tend to think of the worst-case scenarios: abuse, neglect and tragedy. But real child protection begins much earlier, at the point where these harms could still be prevented through a functioning institutional warning and support system. The first and most important step, even with the youngest children, and in fact at every age, is the development of a basic sense of safety. Children need to understand that they matter, that their boundaries matter, and that they have the right to say no. This is not an abstract pedagogical goal, but a concrete tool of prevention.

The often-mentioned and frequently mocked idea of body awareness is, in reality, nothing more than teaching children to understand what belongs to them, what others must not cross, and what is no longer acceptable. This is the logic of the so-called underwear rule: simple, understandable and age-appropriate. Calling this ideology is not only misleading, but actively dangerous. While we argue over labels, attention is diverted from what truly matters: whether a child can recognise danger and whether they dare to ask for help. Yet there is a next step that is discussed far less often. It is not enough to teach a child to ask for help if there is nowhere for them to turn.

The System That Should Hold Them

Child protection does not consist of one or two well-sounding rules. It is a complex system made up of teachers, school psychologists, child protection officers and, yes, civil society organisations as well. These organisations often step in where the capacity of the state system ends, or where problems can still be addressed without involving the authorities, in cooperation with health and mental health services. These actors are not ideological agents. They are professional partners helping to fill the missing capacities of the system.

This network only works if it is visible and understandable to the child. A child must know whom to turn to, trust that they will be taken seriously, and experience that adults actually respond. Trust does not emerge on its own. It is not enough to say that “we are taking care of you”. Children have to experience this again and again, in conversations, in practical exercises and in everyday examples. This is where education enters the picture: an area that has often been placed in a politically charged and stigmatising framework in recent years.

Education Is Not an Extra, but a Precondition

Education is still often treated as some kind of uncomfortable necessity, while in the political arena it is frequently labelled as “gender” or “civil society lobbying”. Yet education is not the same as sex education in the narrow sense. It is much broader than that. At every age, education should help a child or young person understand what is happening to them and around them. By the time they reach the end of secondary school, they should be able to navigate their own situations, understand the consequences of their decisions, and recognise basic connections. We are not banning, and we are not re-educating. We are educating.

What does protection mean without information? How can a child recognise a manipulative situation if we have never talked about it? How can they understand their own boundaries if they do not have the words for them? How can they ask for help if they do not know exactly what is happening to them? Education is not a separate subject to be ticked off a list. It is a process that accompanies a child’s development and must always be adapted to their age and level of understanding.

Education for a healthy life is much broader than sexual knowledge. It includes safe internet use, navigating the digital world, drug prevention, understanding healthy physical and mental functioning, and processing questions around relationships and sexuality in an age-appropriate way. It also includes teaching children what they can do in a crisis, whom they can turn to, and that no one has to face their problems alone. Perhaps one of the most important messages is this: making mistakes is allowed. In fact, it is inevitable. But mistakes can be learned from, and help is always available. This is the kind of knowledge that creates real safety. Not prohibition, but acquired and applicable understanding.

In the early school years, the foundations appear: accepting differences, understanding rules and personal safety. In the later primary and lower secondary years, the focus shifts to relationships, changes during puberty, bodily boundaries, and the first phase of sex education in the classical sense, with particular emphasis on the importance of protection. Yes, during these years. Before, not after. Not only because of the risk of unwanted pregnancy, but also because of the prevention of sexually transmitted infections. In secondary school, the focus moves to decisions and their consequences, from future planning to relationships and substance use, always within the logic of education rather than judgement. Education is not a question of age alone. It is not a “gender” issue and not a civil society issue. It is a methodologically grounded and consistent pedagogical process.

The Price of Delay

The logic of “we will talk about it later” may seem reassuring at first. But children’s lives do not follow the curriculum. Puberty is starting earlier. The internet does not wait. Students will get information, and the only question is where from. If the school does not provide answers, the answers will come from elsewhere, often from uncontrolled, distorted or explicitly harmful sources.

In this sense, the absence of education is not a neutral state. It is a risk factor. This is where the connection becomes clear: the absence of education weakens child protection. Not because a child “knows too much”, but because they do not know enough.

Secondary School: When Questions Become Real Situations

In secondary school, these issues can no longer be kept at the level of theory. Students encounter real situations: relationships, conflicts and pressure. At this point, the question is no longer whether we should talk about these issues, but how we have talked about them until then. If there has been no earlier foundation, these conversations happen suddenly, awkwardly and often ineffectively. If there has been continuity, however, students are better able to understand and manage the situations they face.

This is when basic principles gain real weight. Consent must be clear, including the explicit understanding that “no” really means no. Abuse must be recognisable, so that a student knows what counts as abuse and can identify its signs in their own situation. Boundaries must be communicable, even through simple sentences such as “I do not like being hugged”. Asking for help must also be legitimate, and the young person should know whom to turn to: a teacher, a professional service, a helpline or a civil society organisation.

At the same time, questions of identity also emerge, not as political debates, but as personal experiences. The role of education here is not to tell anyone who they are. Its role is to create an environment in which these questions can be asked safely.

What We Are Really Arguing About

The political stigmatisation built around the idea of the “gender lobby” reduces all of this to a single, easily communicable enemy image. But by doing so, it not only oversimplifies the issue. It also hides the real problem. The real question is not who enters the school, but whether children receive enough knowledge to protect themselves. It is whether they receive enough support to dare to ask for help when they need it. And it is whether there is a system behind them that actually protects them when protection is needed.

It Is Time to Put the Debate Back in Its Place

Child protection is not “gender lobbying” or “civil society lobbying”. It is not built on bans, and it is not built on political slogans. It is built on the everyday, consistent work of education: helping children understand the world, recognise their boundaries, and dare to ask for help when they need it. This is the process through which children receive not only knowledge, but also tools. With this knowledge, these tools and this resilience, they can step into adult life better prepared.

In this system, education is not an optional element. It is a necessary precondition. Real child protection requires at least three things. First, age-appropriate and professionally grounded education that does not frighten or re-educate children, but gives them words, tools and a sense of safety. Second, clear and understandable school protocols for reporting concerns and asking for help, so that every child knows exactly whom they can turn to if they are in trouble. Third, transparent cooperation between schools, teachers, school psychologists, child protection professionals, professional services and civil society organisations. This is not an ideological programme. It is the minimum of functioning child protection.

The debate on child protection should be taken out of stigmatising political frameworks. The real question is not what kind of enemy image we build, but whether we are capable of giving children the knowledge, safety and institutional background that can actually protect them. Children are not endangered by knowledge, but by the lack of it. The only real question is whether we are willing to protect them.

Cover photo credit: Judit Rudas

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