From the Teacher Support Network, www.teachersupport.info.

WHY, ROBOT?
The pressures of teaching will ensure that even educational cyborgs will need practical and emotional support

As you may have read a fortnight ago, my forthcoming departure from Teacher Support Network has caused me some anguish of late. Although looking forward to my next move and being content with the contribution I have made to the wellbeing of teachers during my time at the helm of the organisation, there is a nagging doubt that I will be moving on with too much work unfinished.

It’s a sensation common to those in any profession who find themselves moving on from a place to which they have become so attached, but I worry that I’m laying aside the standard of teacher wellbeing too many steps short of its destination because too many teachers remain in needlessly poor mental and physical health.

Such fears are always allayed by thoughts of the outright competence of the team around me – which range from our industrious trustees to the most modest but equally valued of donors. My doubts are soothed by the knowledge that they will continue to fight for the benefit of teachers well after my departure. However, a recent news item has ensured that any insecurity is not just alleviated by my confidence in the drive and ability of the organisation. My concerns are in fact entirely repudiated by the revelation that Teacher Support Network’s cause – along with the entire body of the developed world’s teachers – will soon be entirely redundant.

The Daily Telegraph reported recently on the latest creation of that most headline friendly of groups, Japanese scientists: surely the ethno-professional faction which has given the most joy to all aficionados of curiosity over the years. After 15 years of research, a robot is being trialled as a teacher at a primary school in Tokyo. Saya, as the automated educationalist has been named by her maker, “can speak different languages, carry out roll calls, set tasks and make facial expressions – including anger – thanks to 18 motors hidden behind her latex face.” Surely it must now only be a matter of time before robotic teachers – with their greatly reduced support needs – ensure that our charity can be scrapped and replaced with an organisation providing for the needs of Saya’s kind? Such a body would have to issue factsheets on a whole range of new subjects, such as replacing your own elbow joints during morning break without having to power down and issue telephone advice on pressing new issues such as how to recover when the Van De Graff generator interferes with your operating system without losing the respect of your pupils. They could probably do with some help from someone over the curriculum too: with a robot leading proceedings, I do worry that dance lessons would be a bit one-dimensional and retro.

Funnily enough, given the current emphasis on the recruitment of teachers from other professions, this is not Saya’s first job. She has previously found employment as a receptionist; a perfect candidate therefore, were she British, for the recently proposed, six-month teacher training plan. After the greetings I’ve received when visiting some offices in London, I suspect Saya’s counterparts may have actually infiltrated the British workforce some time ago. Nevertheless, Saya seems to have made the leap into teaching quite successfully. They must have installed some new patches; although in this case, presumably of the leather, elbow variety. Maybe we should all just pack up and go home?

But in declaring the end of Teacher Support Network as inevitable because of the arrival of our new mechanised co-worker, I may be speaking too soon. Saya’s ability to interact with her class may be limited to the range of activities that her creators have programmed her to do but her interactions with pupils are far from robotic. She is capable of displaying six distinct emotions: fear, anger, disgust, happiness, sadness and surprise. Of course there may be quite simple ways of improving her mood. We all know the cliché of making teacher happy giving him or her fruit: presumably the giving Saya an Apple would be an act which bestows valuable companionship. Nevertheless, all of a sudden I’m starting to see a role for our charity after classrooms move from mortar boards to circuit boards.

If the motorised imitants which will soon command our classrooms are capable of imitating human emotion, Teacher Support Network will surely retain a role. Fear, anger, disgust, sadness and surprise (and occasionally, of course, heartfelt happiness): these are the sensations that teaching inspires in those who use our services. Even well after the last ever lesson is led by someone in possession of a soul, the pressures of teaching will ensure that even educational cyborgs – with their simulation of human emotion – will need the practical and emotional support that we offer.

My time here may be coming to an end, but I’ll leave safe in the knowledge that our organisation is well geared for the future: even well into the robotic era. And in this brave new world we find ourselves hurtling towards, one of our most repeated pieces of advice to teachers will never seem so pertinent: between classes, make sure you take a moment to recharge your batteries.