Picture this: you walk into your classroom, ready with your whiteboard pens, your bad jokes, your emergency stash of biscuits… and the “teacher” on duty is beaming in from another county like a sci-fi cameo. Welcome to the future, folks. Please keep your arms inside the Zoom window at all times.

Across the UK, schools are experimenting with digital stand-ins, AI-powered marking, and lessons delivered by someone who might be closer to the seaside than the staffroom. The pitch? Smarter systems, lighter workloads, and more time for the human stuff. The worry? That the human stuff is exactly what’s being quietly swapped out.

Some leaders say clever software can take the grind out of grading, spot learning gaps faster than we can say “exam board,” and even churn out personalised feedback videos. In theory, that leaves teachers free to mentor, motivate, and mould character. Less red pen, more role model. Sounds lovely—like finding an extra PPA hidden behind the photocopier.

But many teachers aren’t laughing. Because teaching isn’t just content delivery with better Wi-Fi. It’s the nod in the corridor, the well-timed joke before a test, the quiet check-in when a student’s world is wobbling. You can’t algorithm your way into that relationship. No avatar is hugging a parent on results day.

And let’s not forget recent history. We’ve already run the “everyone learn through a screen” experiment. The learning gaps are still waving at us like unmarked homework.

Yes, there’s a shortage of specialists. Yes, technology can help. But here’s the punchline teachers know all too well: tools are brilliant servants and terrible replacements. If AI is here to support us, fantastic. If it’s here to quietly redefine what a teacher is, then we’d better start asking the awkward questions now—before the staffroom gets replaced by a server room.