Moral injury is a term that originated in military contexts to describe the profound emotional and psychological distress experienced when individuals are compelled to act in ways that contradict their moral principles. In recent years, the concept has found relevance in other professions, especially those considered to be “helping” or “caring” roles- such as healthcare, social work, and increasingly, teaching. For teachers, moral injury occurs when they are unable to teach or support students in a way that aligns with their core values due to systemic constraints, institutional policies, or leadership decisions.
It is not simply a matter of being overworked or exhausted. Instead, it is about the painful dissonance that emerges when a teacher knows what is right for their learners but is powerless to act on that knowledge. In many parts of the world, and particularly in low-resourced school environments, teachers are suffering quietly, wounded not just by workload or poor pay, but by the moral compromises they are forced to make daily.
In teaching, moral injury differs from burnout. Burnout is characterised by emotional exhaustion and cynicism resulting from excessive work. Moral injury, on the other hand, is about ethical and emotional conflict: when teachers know the right thing to do for their students but are prevented from doing so by systemic constraints, policies, or leadership decisions.
Teachers enter the profession driven by a strong sense of purpose. For many, it is a calling rooted in a deep commitment to nurture, empower, and guide the next generation. They believe in the transformative power of education and the importance of treating each learner with dignity, empathy, and patience. However, what they find in practice is often far removed from their ideals. Instead of being trusted professionals, they are frequently reduced to mere implementers of externally imposed policies. Curricula are rigid, exam-centred, and politically manipulated, leaving little room for creativity, responsiveness, or critical thinking. Teachers know that students learn differently, that some need more time, others more support, and many come into the classroom burdened by trauma, poverty, or instability. But the system doesn’t always allow them to slow down, reach out, or adapt. Targets must be met. Results must improve. Paperwork must be filled out. And in this environment, genuine learning is often sacrificed for superficial compliance.
Many teachers find themselves in classrooms where they are pressured to pass students who have not met the required standards, either to protect the school’s image or meet national expectations. Others are told to ignore cases of misconduct by senior students or colleagues because pursuing justice would embarrass the institution or invite unwanted scrutiny. Still others are aware of the emotional or psychological distress that their students carry, but have neither the training nor the institutional support to intervene meaningfully. In each of these scenarios, the teacher is torn between what they know to be ethically and professionally right and what the system demands of them. The result is not just frustration—it is injury. A slow, internal erosion of moral clarity, leaving behind guilt, grief, and even self-blame.
READ ALSO:
https://educationnews.co.ke/moe-to-overhaul-teachers-recruitment-training-to-address-unemployment-issues/
What makes moral injury especially dangerous is its invisibility. Unlike burnout, which manifests in physical and emotional fatigue, moral injury is quieter, more insidious. A teacher may continue to show up, prepare lessons, and appear to function. However, internally, they may be grappling with a growing sense of despair, cynicism, or a loss of purpose. The profession that once felt like a noble mission begins to feel like a betrayal of one’s principles. And because this injury is rarely acknowledged publicly, many teachers carry it alone, fearing that voicing their discontent will be seen as insubordination or weakness.
The situation is further worsened by the increasingly corporate culture creeping into education. Metrics judges schools—mean scores, national rankings, attendance rates—rather than by the quality of relationships, the development of character, or the cultivation of independent thought. Teachers are micromanaged through lesson plans, appraisals, and key performance indicators, but are rarely asked what their students truly need or what professional support they themselves require. In such a climate, the humanity of teaching is lost. Education becomes a transactional process rather than a transformative one. And those who care most—teachers who feel deeply and believe passionately—suffer the most.
The remedy for moral injury is not self-care seminars or motivational posters in staffrooms. While individual coping strategies may offer temporary relief, the deeper healing can only come from systemic reform. This begins with listening to teachers, not as data producers or logistical functionaries, but as moral agents who hold the frontline of society’s development. Their voices should inform policy. Their expertise should shape the curriculum. Their experiences should influence how we define success in education. Schools need to become spaces where moral integrity is not only respected but supported. That means giving teachers the autonomy to exercise professional judgment, the time to build relationships with learners, and the tools to respond to the diverse realities in their classrooms.
Moreover, society must reclaim its respect for teaching. The narrative that teachers are lazy, always on holiday, or resistant to change is not only inaccurate—it is harmful. It undermines the emotional labour teachers perform and invalidates the moral conflicts they endure. Teachers are not merely transmitters of content; they are guardians of ethical development, stewards of hope, and daily negotiators of justice in the lives of children. When they are forced to betray their values in the name of efficiency or conformity, we all lose.
Moral injury among teachers is a symptom of deeper societal neglect. It is a wound we inflict upon those we claim to entrust with our children. Recognizing this injury is the first step. Acting on it, with empathy and courage, is the only path to real change. If we want teachers to nurture the minds and hearts of future generations, we must start by nurturing theirs.
In conclusion, moral injury in education is a crisis that often remains unspoken. Teachers are not simply tired – they are morally wounded. Addressing this requires more than wellness programs or time off. It demands systemic change: empowering teachers to make pedagogical decisions, aligning policies with classroom realities, and restoring dignity to the profession. Only then can teachers heal – and teach with integrity.
By Kamomonti wa Kiambati
Kamomonti teaches English and Literature in Gatundu North Sub-county
You can also follow our social media pages on Twitter: Education News KE and Facebook: Education News Newspaper for timely updates.
