That’s the question driving a fresh critique of Australia’s rural STEM education narrative, presented at the 2025 Australian Science Education Research Association (ASERA) conference by La Trobe University researchers Steve Murphy and Tim Johns.
Drawing on a scoping review of peer-reviewed research, the pair argue that rural schools are not simply sites of disadvantage in STEM.
Instead, they may offer overlooked opportunities, if we can stop framing them through a deficit lens.
Flipping the deficit narrative
It’s no secret that rural students participate in senior STEM subjects at lower rates than their metropolitan peers.
When they do, performance metrics and university enrolment data often show them lagging behind. But Murphy says that’s only part of the story.
“What we get distressed by is the deficit story that sits in STEM education,” he told attendees. “We know there are some really great opportunities to teach STEM in rural spaces.”
Rather than dismissing those spaces as lacking, Murphy and Johns “threw the net really, really wide” to review 999 international articles to find studies that showed how rural environments, specifically their geography, demography, and industry, enabled STEM learning.
After applying tight criteria, they were left with 40 papers that demonstrated the unique affordances of rural social space.
Place, people and product as curriculum
To frame their review, the researchers drew on Jo-Anne Reid and Bill Green’s model of rural social space. It emphasises the need to understand place (built and natural environments), people (local demographics and culture), and product (local industry) when examining rural education.
In many of the studies they analysed, these local elements weren’t just background features, they were the curriculum.
From seal ecology projects with Inuit elders in Canada to mine rehabilitation programs in regional Australia and millet-farming robotics lessons in Taiwan, Murphy and Johns found rich examples of STEM learning grounded in students’ lived environments.
One standout case involved a historical photo mapping project in the US, where students used art and science to track ecological change along a river over centuries.
“There’s something powerful when students feel like, ‘This is my place. I’m doing STEM in my space,’” said Johns. “Engagement increases. The learning becomes relevant.”
The burden of innovation
But while the review revealed promising signs of student engagement, it also exposed a troubling trend: in rural contexts, innovation often comes at a personal cost.
“Metro teachers can book an excursion to the museum or the zoo and everything’s there,” Murphy said. “But rural teachers are expected to broker partnerships with engineers, secure grants, drive the bus, and lead cutting-edge programs on their own.”
Many of the programs featured in the literature placed heavy demands on teachers, with some requiring many hours of professional learning or complex logistics.
Others involved researchers “parachuting in” to deliver STEM initiatives that lacked long-term sustainability.
In contrast, the most successful programs were those that were locally led or co-designed with community members. These initiatives were more likely to be sustained over time and more deeply embedded in local culture and context.
The quiet success stories we miss
One of the most striking findings was how much rural STEM teaching goes unnoticed.
Murphy shared how earlier research using Victorian education data revealed rural “hot spots” where student STEM performance outstripped expectations.
When he visited these schools to find out why, the answer wasn’t flashy programs or big-city resources; it was teachers quietly adapting their practice to local contexts, often without formal recognition.
“Teachers are just doing it,” he said. “They’re producing results and getting kids engaged. But they don’t necessarily think it’s worth sharing.”
This lack of visibility has implications for policy and funding. Without adequate recognition of rural expertise, the system risks funnelling money into short-term programs that overlook the sustainable, community-driven work already happening.
Lessons for metro schools
While the presentation focused on rural contexts, Murphy and Johns are clear: metro schools have much to learn from their rural counterparts, especially when it comes to community partnerships.
“In rural areas, it’s often easier to know your community and be known,” Murphy said.
“But that doesn’t mean metro schools can’t build strong local networks. The question is: how do you identify who your community is, and how do you work with them?”
In large urban schools, the diversity and scale of the community may offer different opportunities, if leaders are willing to seek out local partnerships.
A call for systemic change
Ultimately, Murphy and Johns are using their review as a springboard to build something bigger: a sustained, strengths-based approach to rural STEM education.
They’re now seeking partners to co-design initiatives that support rural teachers in identifying and integrating local opportunities without overburdening them or relying on top-down models.
“To do that, we need funding structures that support longer-term partnerships,” Murphy said. “And we need policy that recognises rural knowledge as valuable knowledge.”
That includes better pathways for measuring the impact of rural STEM programs, not just through test scores but through engagement, community involvement, and long-term career aspirations - especially in technical fields often overlooked in traditional STEM narratives.
As one participant noted during the Q&A, “There’s a lot of STEM happening in rural life already, we just don’t call it that.”
From farming and winemaking to plumbing and diesel mechanics, many students are already using scientific and mathematical thinking in meaningful ways.
The challenge is to connect those experiences to formal STEM education and to raise their status in the eyes of students, teachers, and policymakers alike.
A final invitation
Despite the modest number of relevant studies in their review, Murphy and Johns are optimistic.
“We think rural STEM education has something to teach the rest of the system,” Murphy said.
“But we need to listen better, recognise the work that’s already happening, and stop asking rural teachers to do it all without support.”
Their final message was as much an invitation as a conclusion: if you’re doing something innovative in a rural STEM classroom or want to get in touch, please reach out via email (Steve.murphy@latrobe.edu.au)
Because the solutions might already be out there. We just need to ask the right people.