The current political smackdown over sex-ed in schools has me confused.

If I understand the debate making front page headlines on an almost daily basis, the complaint by Victorian fusspots who want to replace the updated 2015 curriculum with the 1998 "Flintstones" version isn't just about content, which they believe will turn kids into sex-crazed deviants.

It's that parents weren't consulted enough.

Well, except for the 4,000 parents, along with a multitude of experts, educators and students consulted before the fact-based curriculum was released three years ago to address 21st century issues like consent, gender identity and same-sex families.

Only 4,000? gasps the new Conservative government. This is an outrage!

Parents, they argue, are the guardians of their children's morality.

And Premier Doug Ford — beholden to the stuffed shirt brigade who got him elected — has promised "the largest consultation in the history of Ontario" because "we believe in consulting with parents."

"We're going to consult with tens of thousands of people across this province," he told reporters a few weeks ago.

"And we're going to make sure that we get their end of it, and their concerns, and we're going to take their concerns and we're going to implement a new curriculum."

As the parent of three school-age kids in the public system, including one with special needs, I have one question: why are parents being consulted at all?

Yeah, you got that right.

If Ford's minions were to solicit my views on topics like gender identity and the intricacies of cyberbullying, I would have to respond: "Why the hell are you asking me? I grew up in the '70s. Talk to the doctors, nurses and researchers who actually study this stuff."

What's the right age to learn about body parts, masturbation and the hazards of venereal disease?

Whenever the psychologists and social workers say it is.

Yet somehow, the idea persists that parents are capable overseers in areas in which they have no actual training, that the innocence of children can be corrupted by factual information about their bodies, and that kids kept in the dark won't be vulnerable to a vast network of predators and bullies.

It's a lopsided debate fast turning into a human rights issue, headed for the courts and engendering hysteria on both sides.

Not that there are two equal sides — that's a fallacy propagated by a coterie of pious hypocrites who perceive rational discussions about sexual consent as instruction manuals on how to teach the mechanics of anal sex to 12-year-olds.

Reading back that last paragraph, I realize how absurd it sounds.

But that's the oft-stated view of a fearful minority who — despite the option of opting out or home schooling — want to drag the entire system back to 1998, a move slammed by every expert as wrong-headed and reactionary.

Do I have a say in the math curriculum?

I do not, which is a good thing, given that the last time I cracked a calculus book Stevie Wonder was cleaning up at the Grammy Awards, I had sideburns the size of lamb chops and Kristy McNichol — star of TV's "Family" — was embarking on a promising movie career.

Do I have a say in the English curriculum?

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If I did, kids would still be reading about Willy Loman, Holden Caulfield and Piggy getting bonked with a conch in novels by Dead White Men obsessed with the curdled nature of the American Dream.

Yet here we are, held hostage by a group of priggish gasbags for whom sex is scary and the prospect of inclusion and diversity are like red flags to a bull.

Oh, yeah, I know — I'm a Liberal elite, a term now used to describe anyone who doesn't support buck-a-beer, thinks banning handguns is a good idea and doesn't believe gay people are going to hell.

Critics would say I also have White Saviour Syndrome, a condescending desire to save kids from less enlightened backgrounds from the perils of crappy, incompetent parenting.

Ha, ha. I relate more to the concept of "herd immunity," which ensures that when a majority of kids are vaccinated against infectious diseases — in this case, sexual ignorance — it benefits the few who are not.

So if, for example, you have a kid who is easy prey for bullies — a kid who, like mine, has autism — you know there will be a minimal degree of tolerance for differences that might otherwise not exist.

A rising tide, after all, floats all boats.

And who are we kidding: if it wasn't for Liberal elites, we'd be stuck in the '70s, when anyone who didn't come from a white, two-parent family and conform to gender stereotypes was bullied with wild impunity.

So yes, I stand alongside the 30 public school boards who have issued defiant statements to the province, the 1,800 health-care professionals urging them to stick with the updated curriculum, and the vociferous teachers union — who I never agree with on anything — promising to defend any educator who refuses to buckle under to Ford Nation's deft pursuit of sexual stupidity.

Obstinate? Unreasonable? Blasphemous?

I may not be qualified to advise the province on LGBTQ+ rights and the dangers of online bullying, but I know one thing: no starched pants puritan with an aversion to reality is going to compromise the safety of my kids.

"The Flintstones" was a great cartoon in its day, but in 2018 it — like the 1998 sex-ed curriculum — is a musty anachronism.

jrubinoff@therecord.com

Twitter: @JoelRubinoff