As the end of the year approaches, it is an opportune moment to pause and reflect on the state of Canada’s K–12 public education system. Since 2010, I have been deeply involved in teacher education in British Columbia, working closely with both pre-service and in-service teachers—many of whom were once my own students. I have also collaborated with my colleagues to establish an innovative online graduate program in STEM education. This long-term engagement has allowed me to observe the system’s evolution over more than a decade, not from a distance, but from within.
I have also experienced the Canadian K–12 education system as a parent, which has given me an additional, more personal lens. Beyond Canada, I have had the opportunity to engage with both pre-service and in-service STEM teacher education in Israel and the United States. Finally, for more than two decades, I have conducted research in STEM education, publishing extensively in this field (see Milner-Bolotin publications). Taken together, these experiences place me in a position to make informed, evidence-based observations about the current state of public education.
Based on this collective experience, I believe that Canadian public education—particularly in STEM—is facing a serious and deepening crisis. While we have not yet seen its full consequences, the structural problems we are creating today will have long-term and potentially irreversible effects on our society. What I describe below may sound familiar, even repetitive, but in my view, growing teacher shortages and the documented decline in students’ STEM and Reading performance (as evidenced, for example, by PISA results) are merely the most visible symptoms of a much larger problem.
Below, I outline several interrelated issues that, taken together, support this claim.
First, Canada is facing a shortage of well-prepared teachers—educators who possess both strong content knowledge and the pedagogical expertise required to teach complex subjects effectively. In British Columbia, becoming a secondary STEM teacher formally requires a bachelor’s degree in a STEM discipline. However, holding such a degree does not guarantee deep conceptual understanding or readiness to teach the subject at the secondary level. I know this firsthand. I entered teacher education after completing a master’s degree in theoretical physics at a reputable university. Yet, only when I began my teacher education did I fully realize how insufficient my content knowledge was for teaching secondary mathematics and physics. I was fortunate to study at the Science Teaching Department at the Weizmann Institute of Science, where I had the opportunity to relearn physics and mathematics from a teacher’s perspective. This experience profoundly shaped my pedagogical training and reinforced a critical truth: deep subject knowledge is the foundation of effective teaching.
Second, the attitudes of some educational administrators and school board leadership toward teaching—and toward teachers’ professional preparation—are deeply concerning. I have repeatedly seen teachers assigned to teach subjects for which they were not trained, justified by the claim that “a good teacher can teach anything.” This stance would be unthinkable in professions such as medicine or engineering, yet it is often normalized in education. At the same time, we observe growing administrative structures within school boards. If we genuinely face a shortage of qualified teachers, why are we not investing more directly in the profession itself? Why not attract outstanding teacher-candidates by offering competitive scholarships, high-quality preparation, and reduced teaching loads during the critical first year of teaching? If we want excellent teachers, we must be willing to treat teaching as a profession that demands—and deserves—serious investment.
Third, current models of teacher preparation in British Columbia are insufficient. At UBC, the largest teacher education program in the province, the Teacher Education Program lasts just 11 months. In the past, this program extended over two years. This reduction has profound implications. As a secondary physics methods instructor, I have only 12 weeks—2.5 hours per week—with my students. This limited time is expected to prepare future teachers to teach one of the most conceptually demanding subjects in the school curriculum. Compounding this problem, teacher-candidates often take six or seven courses simultaneously during their first term, leaving little time for deep learning, reflection, or integration of theory and practice. The result is predictable: surface-level preparation for an extraordinarily complex profession.
Fourth, new teachers entering the profession are often left to fend for themselves. There is no consistent, province-wide mentorship program for beginning teachers. While some educators are fortunate to work in supportive school environments, this is far from guaranteed. Effective mentorship should not depend on chance. Mentoring new teachers must be recognized as a formal, supported component of experienced teachers’ workload, rather than an invisible, unpaid expectation. I strongly believe that universities should be involved in it, but this has to be recognized as a service to the profession.
Fifth, professional development for in-service teachers is fragmented and inconsistent. Research in teacher education clearly shows that one-off professional development sessions rarely lead to meaningful changes in teaching practice. Yet, this model continues to dominate. Teachers are given minimal time for sustained professional learning and are often expected to pay out of pocket to attend high-quality opportunities. Graduate programs, including master’s degrees, are rarely supported by school boards, forcing teachers to study while teaching full time. This places an enormous burden on educators—many of whom are simultaneously navigating the early stages of family life—contributing to burnout and attrition.
Sixth, curriculum design itself presents serious challenges. In several cases, K–12 curricula are developed by individuals with limited subject-matter expertise in the disciplines they oversee. For example, significant concerns about the BC secondary physics curriculum were raised by faculty members from leading universities in the province, yet much of this feedback was ignored. The removal of provincial physics exams has increased teachers’ autonomy, but it has also increased their responsibility. Without strong curricular coherence and adequate support, this autonomy can widen disparities in what students learn, depending on where—and by whom—they are taught.
Seventh, an additional and often overlooked consequence of low-quality and insufficiently differentiated STEM education is the widening of gaps between students. Ironically, this occurs at the same time as education systems increasingly emphasize inclusion and equity in their public discourse. In practice, however, the closure of specialized and enriched programs for academically advanced and gifted students undermines these very goals. When such programs disappear, students from high–socioeconomic status families often compensate through private tutoring, enrichment programs, or family networks. Students from low-SES backgrounds, by contrast, lose one of the few structured pathways available to them for academic advancement and social mobility. As a result, “one-size-fits-all” approaches, when implemented without adequate resources or differentiation, can unintentionally exacerbate inequities rather than reduce them.
A clear example of this is the closure of the University Transition Program (UTP) at UBC, which for decades provided an alternative pathway for academically capable students who could not thrive in conventional secondary school settings. Many UTP students were intellectually advanced yet faced significant psychological, social, or emotional challenges that made regular school environments unsuitable. The program offered rigorous academic preparation alongside the structure and support these students needed to succeed. For many—particularly those from families without financial means—UTP was transformative, opening doors to post-secondary education that would otherwise have remained closed. Its closure removed a vital bridge for some of the most vulnerable yet capable students, illustrating how the elimination of specialized programs in the name of uniformity can have profound and lasting negative consequences.
Post-secondary institutions across British Columbia are working hard to support STEM education. Initiatives such as the UBC Physics Olympics, which engages more than a thousand students annually, and outreach programs at SFU and other universities, are valuable and inspiring. However, such efforts cannot compensate for systemic weaknesses in K–12 education. Outreach events can enrich learning, but they cannot replace sustained, high-quality teaching in everyday classrooms.
Finally, I do not believe that Artificial Intelligence (AI) will solve teacher shortages or reverse declining student engagement in STEM (https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s42330-025-00404-x ). While AI may become a useful tool, it cannot replace teachers who mentor students, model curiosity, and cultivate a genuine love of learning. Education is fundamentally relational. Without well-prepared, supported, and respected teachers, no technology will succeed.
Teacher education and K–12 public education must become a true priority. Unless we commit to recruiting individuals who genuinely want to become STEM teachers—and support them throughout their preparation and careers—we risk undermining the very foundations of our public education system. The cost of inaction will not be measured only in declining test scores or staffing shortages, but in lost opportunities for students, diminished professional identity for teachers, and long-term consequences for Canadian society as a whole.