There is another scandal making waves in the education sector. One of the colleges in the Urals declined to hire a history teacher who previously aligned with the incel movement and kept a private blog about sex. The rejected candidate sees himself as a victim, claiming that the past should not justify discrimination, and he asserts that he never allowed radical statements on his YouTube channel. Society remains sharply divided. Some criticize the man for his last words and argue that anyone like him should be kept far away from young people. Others defend the teacher against moralistic attacks.
Moral questions aside, the Ural episode fuels the ongoing debate about the moral character of educators. These days, such polemics are everywhere. People weigh in on what teachers can and cannot do, from swimsuit photography to buying underwear, visiting bars, and publicly mentioning the word “sex.” Yet the truth is not so simple. The problem runs deeper. These stories reveal a broader crisis: staffing shortages in education and the resulting difficulty in making acceptable hiring choices. Society today tries to navigate this dilemma, though the average person often lacks a clear path forward.
The Sverdlovsk college case illustrates this point. It emerged that the institution could not fill the history teacher position for over three months. In the end, management leaned on a candidate recommended by the local employment center. Those who seek work with state support are not always the most sought-after specialists. Did the college investigate the applicant more thoroughly, including how the candidate’s image appeared on social networks? Not really. The focus was not on sifting through every photo gallery for incriminating images but on understanding the person’s core values. Perhaps the candidate had sympathies that raised concerns. Were in-depth interviews conducted to probe these matters? Not sufficiently. The college learned about the concerning blog only from students and anxious parents who spoke up on campus.
Why such lax scrutiny? Why chase away simple concerns about a blog about sex when the issue might touch on scientific and educational credibility? The reality is stubborn and less forgiving than idealism would like. In today’s environment, school and college administrations struggle to exercise careful selection. There is no long queue at the gate, and that makes the hiring decision feel almost impossible.
There is a single, stubborn vacancy at the staff table that needs filling. A person who has a diploma, the necessary certificates, and a willingness to work for a modest wage can be hired without extensive questioning. The backdrop is a dramatic staff shortage in education, with officials officially estimating a dire three percent gap. The news about a record number of teachers leaving in 2023 was quickly addressed by ministry representatives, who framed the departures as seasonal migrations or relocations to other schools. The metaphor of teachers as antelopes chasing new pastures underscored the narrative, even as observers doubted the full accuracy of the claim.
The harsh truth is that the real shortage in education has grown so serious that it strains the entire system. Turnover is only one signal of this hunger. Teachers are increasingly avoiding workloads that are 1.5 to 2 times the usual load. New graduates enter teaching for a few years to gain experience and build a private tutoring clientele. It is not surprising that a sizable portion of seasoned and aspiring educators are choosing retirement or alternate paths after short stints in schools. The consequence is a talent drain that undermines long-term stability.
Given these pressures, how can a fair and reliable choice be made? The answer seems elusive. The result is a field crowded with concerns about who should teach and what kind of example they set. Rumors spread about questionable conduct by certain candidates—ranging from inappropriate interactions with students to more serious offenses. Screenshots, audio recordings, and personal confessions circulate and intensify fear. The effect is jarring: it can feel as if a functioning school system is dissolving into a house of sorrow rather than a place of learning.
There is a desire to restore order, but the path forward appears blocked. The public clamors for a quick fix, yet the root problems require deliberate, structural actions. The focus shifts from moral policing to practical reforms: addressing the shortage of qualified professionals, improving working conditions, and securing sufficient materials and resources so that schools can operate with dignity and competence. It is not enough to condemn individuals or rely on sensational narratives. Real restoration demands solid steps—more robust recruitment, better support for teachers, and a transparent process that protects both students and educators.
Ultimately, the issue is not simply a matter of personal conduct or image. It is about the material conditions that shape every classroom. The task ahead is to rebuild confidence and competence in the education system, ensuring that schools can attract and retain capable teachers who are aligned with shared professional standards. The broader aim is to create an environment where students can learn safely, and educators can teach without fear of premature judgment or burnout. In the end, the question remains: how can communities balance accountability with fairness while safeguarding the integrity of education? That question continues to provoke discussion, reflection, and careful policy consideration.
The author believes that the topic warrants ongoing attention and study, while recognizing that viewpoints on education policy can differ widely.