By John Krull

Indiana House Speaker Todd Huston, R-Fishers, just taught Hoosiers a valuable lesson.

Well, “costly” might be a more accurate word than “valuable.”

He showed us how much money there is to be made in the education-reform racket.

Huston recently resigned as senior vice president for the College Board. The College Board, among other things, designs the Scholastic Aptitude Test — SAT — and Advanced Placement courses for schools.

When he quit, Huston left behind an annual salary of at least $460,738. Given that he’s worked there for nine years, he’s made a significant fortune.

Education is not normally a path to wealth.

Both Huston and the College Board insist that his resignation had nothing to do with the speaker’s championing of House Bill 1134. Both sides said Huston departed so he could spend more time on focusing on his legislative leadership responsibilities.

They said this even though Huston took the unusual step of voting for HB 1134. Normally, House speakers only vote on measures if the balloting is close or — as likely was the case here — because they want to send a message that the measure in question is a leadership priority.

HB 1134 has become a focal point of national controversy and derision. That’s because the bill does its best to prevent Indiana students from learning anything that might involve actual learning.

It limits instruction on “divisive” topics such as America’s tortured history regarding race. It hamstrings teachers by establishing onerous parent-approval processes. And, because what is considered “divisive” is so vaguely defined, it seeks to chill free speech.

In many ways, HB 1134 isn’t just anti-education. It’s un-American.

But the shortcomings and transgressions of HB 1134 aren’t the lesson Huston taught Hoosiers. No, the speaker demonstrated how corrupt the education reform movement has become.

Over a two-year period, Indiana’s state government with the general fund alone will spend more than $35 billion. More than half of that spending is devoted to education.

With that much money involved, it was only a matter of time before some people decided they were entitled to larger and larger slices of the pie. The only ones who rarely seem to get a piece are the ones doing the work: the teachers.

The education reform movement started with a basic argument: introducing competition — making education more of a free market — would enhance innovation in classrooms and improve student achievement. That gave rise to an abundance of charter schools and the most extensive — and expensive — school voucher program in the United States.

But a curious thing happened: The oft-promised improvements in student performance never materialized.

A well-entrenched and well-funded network of education-reform support enterprises, though, took root, all of them drawing sustenance from the fertile soil of taxpayer funding.

As these education-reform entities planted themselves ever more deeply in the state’s budgeting, they began to realize that hiring or arriving at other financial relationships with state legislators was a wise investment.

Indiana history is littered with legislators who worked in their “private” lives as vaguely defined “counsel” or in some other foggy capacity for one well-padded company or nonprofit or another.

If a teacher did anything like this — secured employment that conflicted in any way with serving students — the outcry would be immediate and immense.

But when a lawmaker, even a leader such as Todd Huston does it? Well, that’s just another day at the office. A very well-paid day.