When researchers in India conducted surprise visits to rural schools, they found that 25 percent of teachers weren't even there. Of those present, only about half were actually teaching. The rest were sitting in staff rooms, chatting with colleagues, or doing administrative work while children sat idle in classrooms.

It's tempting to blame lazy teachers or corrupt systems. But this framing misses something crucial. These same teachers often work second jobs, travel long distances, and navigate impossible conditions daily. The question isn't why teachers are failing—it's why the system makes success nearly impossible. Understanding this distinction changes everything about how we approach education in developing countries.

Imagine trying to teach thirty children in a room with no electricity, no textbooks, and a leaking roof during monsoon season. This is reality for millions of teachers across the developing world. Infrastructure isn't just inconvenient—it fundamentally shapes what teaching is possible.

In many schools, teachers receive curriculum materials designed for urban classrooms with reliable power, internet access, and one textbook per student. Rural teachers might have one textbook for fifteen students, no wall maps, and children who speak a different language at home than the official instruction language. The gap between expected teaching and possible teaching creates a daily experience of failure.

But it goes deeper than materials. Teachers in remote areas often lack housing, forcing multi-hour commutes. They're assigned to schools where they don't speak local languages. Training rarely addresses the actual challenges they face. The system sends people to do a job, then removes most tools for doing it. Absenteeism often reflects rational responses to impossible circumstances, not character flaws.

Takeaway

Before judging individual performance, examine whether the system provides the basic conditions for success. People often fail not because they lack will, but because they lack means.

In most developing countries, teacher salaries don't depend on whether students learn, whether teachers show up, or whether they actually teach when present. Job security is near-absolute once hired, and promotions follow seniority rather than performance. This isn't necessarily bad—job protections matter—but without any accountability mechanism, the connection between effort and outcome dissolves.

Supervision systems exist on paper but collapse in practice. Headmasters report to district officials who visit rarely. When inspectors do come, visits are announced in advance, allowing preparation for show performances. Communities technically have oversight, but parents who never attended school themselves often lack confidence to challenge teachers. The people who know teaching isn't happening have no power; the people with power don't know what's happening.

This creates a tragedy of low expectations. Good teachers burn out carrying colleagues' loads. Motivated new teachers learn quickly that effort goes unrecognized while absence goes unpunished. The system doesn't select for bad people—it gradually extinguishes good intentions through indifference to outcomes.

Takeaway

Accountability without support is blame. Support without accountability is waste. Effective systems need both—people must have the means to succeed and reasons to try.

Randomized controlled trials across multiple countries reveal a consistent pattern: the interventions that work address both support and accountability simultaneously. Neither alone proves sufficient. Give teachers better materials without monitoring and nothing changes. Add monitoring without fixing infrastructure and frustration increases.

In India, providing camera-verified attendance with small financial bonuses for showing up reduced teacher absence by half. In Kenya, hiring local contract teachers—paid less but accountable to their communities—improved learning outcomes more than reducing class sizes with regular teachers. The difference wasn't salary levels but the social connection between teachers and families who could observe them daily.

Perhaps most importantly, successful reforms make teaching easier, not just more monitored. Structured lesson plans that tell teachers exactly what to do each day dramatically improve outcomes, especially for undertrained teachers. When the job becomes more achievable, showing up makes sense. The goal isn't catching bad teachers—it's creating conditions where normal people can succeed at difficult work.

Takeaway

Sustainable behavior change requires making the right choice both possible and rewarding. Systems improve when they help people succeed, not just when they punish failure.

Teacher absenteeism in poor schools isn't primarily a story about bad individuals—it's about systems that set people up to fail, then express surprise when they do. Infrastructure, training, supervision, and incentives all matter. Fix one without the others, and you've changed inputs without changing outcomes.

The hopeful truth is that solutions exist and have been proven. When we give teachers achievable jobs, reasonable conditions, and accountability to the families they serve, most rise to meet expectations. The question isn't whether better education is possible—it's whether we'll build the systems that make it likely.