In a quiet classroom adorned with the joyful creations of small children， Ville Sallinen is learning what makes Finland’s schools the envy of the world.

Sallinen， 22， is teaching a handful of eight-yearolds how to read. He is nearing the end of a short placement in the school during his five-year master’s degree in primary school teaching.

Viikki teacher training school in eastern Helsinki describes itself as a laboratory for student teachers. Here， Sallinen can try out the theories he has learned at the university to which the school is affiliated. It’s the equivalent of university teaching hospitals for medical students.

Finland is going through a deep economic crisis， and there are financial pressures on schools， just as there are on the rest of the public sector. But the five-year master’s degree for primary school teachers is not in question.

Leena Krokfors， professor of teaching at Helsinki University， says： “The beef in the Finnish teacher training system is the time that students have to learn.”

The high-level training is the basis for giving young teachers a great deal of autonomy to choose what methods they use in the classroom—in contrast to England， Krokfors says， where she feels teaching is “somewhere between administration and giving tests to students”. In Finland， teachers are largely free from external requirements such as inspection， standardised testing and government control; school inspections were scrapped in the 1990s.

“Teachers need to have this high-quality education so they really do know how to use the freedom they are given， and learn to solve problems in a research-based way，”Krokfors says. “The most important thing we teach them is to take pedagogical decisions and judgments for themselves.”

In Britain， by contrast， academies， private schools and free schools can hire people to teach even if they are not qualified. Labour claimed in 2013 that becoming a teacher in Britain was now easier than flipping burgers.

Olli Marta， a teacher trainer at the Normal Lyceum in Helsinki， said “When we got the international ranking results， we were thinking， if we are that good， how bad are the others？” he says.

For a small， agrarian and relatively poor nation， educating all of its youth equally well was seen as the best way to catch up with other industrialised countries， according to Pasi Sahlberg， a Finnish educationist at Harvard who has done much to popularise Finland’s methods abroad.

The Finnish dream， as he calls it， was for all children， regardless of family background or personal conditions， to have a good school in their community—a focus that has remained unchanged for the past four decades.

In the early phase， during the 70s and 80s， there was strict central direction and control over schools， state-prescribed curriculums， external school inspections and detailed regulation， giving the Finnish government a strong grip on schools and teachers. But a second phase， from the early 90s， consciously set out to create a new culture of education characterised by trust between educational authorities and schools， local control， professionalism and autonomy. Schools became responsible for their own curriculum planning and student assessment， while state inspections were abandoned. This required teachers to have high academic credentials and be treated like professionals.

Not only is teacher education in Finland strongly researchbased， but all the students on the primary school master’s course are engaged in research themselves—a point of pride for Patrik Scheinin， dean of the faculty. The course aims to produce “didacticians” who can connect teaching interventions with sound evidence， he says.

“We want to produce cognitive dissonance. The task of a good didactician is to disturb the thinking of someone who assumes they know everything about teaching，” Scheinin says. “Just because you’ve been doing something for 20 years and it works for you doesn’t mean it works for other teachers， other students， or in other subjects.”

In Helsinki Normal Lyceum， student teachers are running day-long multidisciplinary workshops for pupils aged 13 to 19. In one， Maria Hyvari， 24， is discussing Dewey， Steiner and Montessori， and asking pupils to think critically about teaching methods at the school. “I want to make a difference，” she says. “There are all these new teaching tools and ideas， and it’s great because here we can try different things—it makes me feel inspired.”

Hyvari is in the middle of an undergraduate degree in French and English， but she has chosen to take an additional pedagogical year in the middle of her five-year degree， which will launch her on to a teaching track in her final two years to emerge qualified as a secondary school teacher. During this year she spends about half her time in the school， and half in the university’s teaching department.

For Olli Marta， a teacher trainer at the school， Finland’s PISA scores are a byproduct of the system rather than a central goal. “When we got the results， we were thinking， if we are that good， how bad are the others？ We were taken by surprise，” he says.

It showed that the country was doing some things right， he says， and vindicated the decision in the 1970s to make primary school teacher education a university degree.

Educationists point to historically specific factors that have helped to fashion Finland’s schools， such as the country’s small population， its relatively late dash for modernity， and broad acceptance of values such as equality and collaboration. But the decision to make teaching an advanced degree subject has given teaching a high profile in Finnish society.

Back in primary school， Ville Sallinen got the teaching bug eight years ago while still a full-time student， when he started coaching football. It sparked his interest in working with children. He is not particularly academic， he says， but like many students， his passion for teaching got him on to the master’s course.

“I would like to have more experience in schools like what we are having now，” Sallinen says. “Next year we have no practical element. It is good to get experience in a real school.”

At the end of each day， he sits down with his mentor， Tunja Tuominen， to deconstruct teaching moments and to theorise them. Says Tuominen： “Student teachers come here like little chicks， mouths wide open and eager to learn.”

维勒·萨利宁正身处一安静的教室中，里面装饰着小孩子创造的色彩缤纷的作品，他正在学习是什么让芬兰的学校成为世人艳羡的对象。

萨利宁今年22岁，他正在教一群八岁的孩子阅读。他在这所学校的短期代课已快接近尾声。他现在正在攻读一个五年的基础教育硕士学位。

维吉教师培训学校位于赫尔辛基的东部，该学校形容自己为“师范生的实验室”。在大学附属学校里，萨利宁可以一一试验在大学里学到的理论知识，就相当于医学生的大学附属医院。

芬兰正在经历一场严重的经济危机，和其他公共部门一样，学校也面临着很大的经济压力。但小学老师必须取得5年硕士学位，这是毋庸置疑的。

丽娜·克罗克佛斯是赫尔辛基大学的教学系教授，他说：“芬兰教师训练系统的强大就在于学生投入的学习时间。”

克罗克佛斯说，给予年轻教师高度的自主权去选择各自的教学方法的前提是拥有高水平的训练体系——与英国相比，克罗克佛斯说，她感覺英国的教学着重的是“行政管理以及让学生考试”。在芬兰，老师不会受到太多的外部要求、比如说督导、标准化考试和政府管制等。学校督导制度在上世纪90年代就被废除了。

“教师需要接受这种高质量教育，因为这样他们才能学会如何运用他们手中的自由，如何以研究性的方式解决问题。”克罗克佛斯说，“我们教会他们最重要的一件事就是学会自主做出教学决定和判断。”

相比之下，在英国，即便教师不够资格，所有院校，私立学校和公立学校都可以聘请他们来任教。……