Obama is seeding his education agenda through stimulus cash—and venture-capital semantics.

Early last month conservatives gave themselves wedgies in advance of an education speech by President Obama. The administration released a teaching aid weeks before the speech, and those on the right thought its suggestions were a shade too Eastern Europe to be broadcast in American schools. The aid offered some questions for the kids to better understand the speech: “What do you think the President wants us to do? Does the speech make you want to do anything? Are we able to do what President Obama is asking of us?” So pinko I’m turning Soviet red.

If conservatives thought that was bad, they should pay attention to what the Department of Education is doing with its stimulus money. The department received a gobstopping $100 billion, not just more than any department reform budget in history, but bigger than every department reform budget combined. (Considering it’s only been around since late in the Carter administration, not that impressive, but still … .) Education Secretary Arne Duncan has been putting the money to use, pushing emergency funds out to schools that were facing budget cuts.

The latest round of grants was announced Tuesday. Duncan unveiled the guidelines for $650 million of funds that are earmarked for the classic catch-all of “innovation.” The goal is to give money to a handful of local school districts (or nonprofits working with districts) to try out some new ways of fixing American education. They anticipate thousands of applications but few grant awards. “The basic idea is not to spread this too thin,” Duncan said.

This money, like all of the education-earmarked stimulus funds, comes with strings attached. As with so much of the stimulus, it is a seeding agent for the Obama administration’s agenda. To receive past funding, states had to adhere to education guidelines that the administration has proscribed. The goals have been typical of bipartisan education reform: data-based accountability, assigning the best teachers evenly across rich and poor districts, establishing common educational standards, and making an effort to turn around low-performing schools. It’s an adaptation of the foreign policy carrot-and-stick approach. Duncan will give school districts the carrot, but only after they self-flagellate with their own sticks. The strings were too much for some governors; Sarah Palin refused to take the education funds when she was still in charge. (Public pressure later forced her to reverse the decision.)

The innovation funds have even stricter guidelines. (They’re euphemistically called “priorities” in the 81-page memo outlining the innovation grants [PDF].) On top of the general guidelines for all stimulus funds, there’s also an emphasis on more reformist goals like providing early-childhood learning, enhancing college-accessibility programs, creating new pedagogies for disabled and English-as-a-second-language students, and helping rural school districts. This mixed in with the four more general priorities is a pretty descriptive outline of the administration’s philosophy on how to fix the country’s education system. But remember, this isn’t some idealistic manifesto. The government has the money to convert its philosophy into action. The stimulus propagates the administration’s agenda.

This kind of approach is expected from a wealthy nonprofit. Any large foundation that has a ton of money to give away wants its grant recipients to somehow exemplify the ideals of the foundation itself. The grant applicant’s job is to mix a cocktail of flattery, mimicry, and individuality—and not have it taste too transparently saccharine. This is the winking dance of the nonprofit sector.