People behave better when they know someone is watching. That is not cynicism. That is Tuesday.

It is not only the Swedish King and Queen who get the polished version. The same thing happens whenever an inspector books the visit in advance. Hallways get swept. Schedules suddenly look tidy. The problems that live there the other 179 school days take a polite step to the side.

Sweden has the Swedish Schools Inspectorate. Its job is to check whether schools follow the Education Act: whether students get the education they are entitled to, whether teaching holds up, whether the school is safe and handles bullying, whether extra adjustments and special support actually arrive in time, whether the school has the staff it needs — nurses, counselors, special education teachers — and whether the principal and the education provider lead the place or just administer it.

Most inspections are still announced. The Inspectorate has increased unannounced visits after a government assignment — hundreds a year now — but the default is still a calendar invite. That gives a school time to tidy the symptoms. Not always the cause.

I dislike announced inspections for the same reason I dislike the sudden paint job before a royal visit. You do not see the building. You see the performance. Even announced visits still find deficiencies in most cases, which tells you something unflattering about the days nobody is coming.

Students lose first. They do not get the education the law promised them. Taxpayers lose second. They pay for a service and receive a dress rehearsal.

I have more patience when a middle manager in a private company rolls out the red carpet for the CEO. That money was earned in a market that can punish waste. Schools — municipal and independent — run on tax money. If we pay, we should not have to book an appointment to see what we bought.

I tidy before guests too. I am not claiming moral superiority. I am claiming that a system built on announced visits will keep measuring the show, not the school.

Do you want inspectors who announce themselves — or inspectors who show up on an ordinary Tuesday?