The three parts of a stair, in plain English
Naming the parts makes the rest of this easy, so bear with me for one paragraph. A stair has three. The tread is the flat bit you step on. The riser is the vertical face under the front of each tread, the part your toe nearly kicks on the way up. The nosing is the front edge of the tread, where it sticks out past the riser. That is the whole vocabulary, and every decision below hangs off those three words.
Tiling stairs with ceramic tiles is completely doable, and ceramic or porcelain is what most people reach for. But the material matters less than you would think. A staircase does not fail because someone picked the wrong pretty tile. It fails at the edge, at the grip, and at the math that keeps every step the same height, which is exactly where we are heading.
The nosing is the whole game, and the thing most people botch
If you remember one thing from this, make it the edge. The front lip of a tiled step, the nosing, is where a rushed job shows up first. A bare, square-cut tile edge on the front of a step does two bad things. It chips every time something knocks it, a vacuum, a boot, a dropped phone, and it gives your foot a hard little cliff to catch on.
So the edge gets finished on purpose. Either with a bullnose tile, which is a tile with one rounded, factory-finished edge, or with a metal or PVC stair-nosing profile that caps the front and often carries a grippy strip built in. That profile is not decoration, it is the difference between a step that ages well and one that loses a corner within a month. (A tiler can spot a bad nosing from across the room. We cannot help it. It is like a smudge on someone else's glasses.)
The two ways a tiled stair sends someone flying: slick and uneven
Stairs hurt people two ways, and both are avoidable. The first is a slippery surface. Skip the polished marble-look and the high-gloss porcelain on the treads, however good they look flat on a floor, because a shiny stair plus a pair of socks is a physics experiment nobody signed up for. Use a textured or matte tile rated for floors, ideally one with real grip. A good tile shop can point you at floor-rated, slip-resistant options, and on stairs I lean toward more texture and a bit smaller tile, because more texture and more grout lines both mean more grip underfoot.
The second way is height. Your body learns how tall a step is in about two steps, and then it stops looking. So if one step ends up half an inch taller than the rest, because the tile and mortar added height to the tread but nobody accounted for it, that is the step everyone stumbles on. When we tile a staircase, we plan the tile thickness on the tread and the riser together so all the finished steps come out the same height, top to bottom. It is boring math done before a single tile goes down, and it is the whole reason a tiled stair feels normal to walk instead of faintly haunted.
Stairs move, so grout cannot be the only thing holding on
Here is the part you never see. Stairs flex. Every time someone walks up them the structure gives a tiny bit, a wooden staircase most of all. Tile does not flex, and grout flexes even less, so put those together with no plan and you get the classic cracked line right where the tread meets the riser, usually within a year or two.
That is my one strong opinion for this post: grout sitting in a joint that moves is why your tile cracks, full stop. Every place a stair changes direction, the front edge, the inside corner where tread meets riser, and the line where tile meets the wall, is a joint that moves, and it wants a flexible caulk or silicone, not rigid grout. The TCNA Handbook has called for movement joints at these changes of plane for years. On a wooden staircase we also set the tile over a surface that can absorb a little movement instead of passing it straight up into the tile. Skip that step and the stairs will tell on you.
Outdoor steps are a different animal: freeze, thaw, repeat
Tiling a front porch or a set of outdoor steps is not the same job as an indoor staircase, and treating it like one is how you get tile popping loose after the first hard winter. Outdoors, water gets into everything, then freezes, expands, and pries the tile off from underneath. So the tile itself has to be one that barely drinks any water. Porcelain absorbs 0.5% water or less (ANSI A137.1), which is exactly why it shrugs off a DMV winter when a thirstier tile would flake apart.
On top of the right tile, outdoor steps want a slight slope so rain runs off instead of pooling on the tread, a genuinely grippy surface because wet outdoor steps are no joke, and a base built to drain and to move a little with the frost. Get those right and a tiled porch looks sharp for years. Get them wrong and you are redoing it every couple of springs, which is a hobby nobody actually wants.

When tiling stairs is the wrong call, and you should not hire me
I like a tiled staircase, but I will talk you out of it when it is wrong for you. If your stairs are a bouncy, creaky, or rotten wooden run, tile is not the fix and I am not the first call. That is a carpenter's job to make the structure solid, and only then does tile belong on top. Set beautiful tile over a staircase that moves like a trampoline and it will crack no matter how good the tiling is.
Skip it too on a single low step in a quiet corner, where a good runner or a simpler finish does the job for a fraction of the fuss, and skip glossy tile anywhere feet and socks meet, no matter how much you love the look. And if the stairs are the main route for someone unsteady on their feet, we talk through grip and nosing very carefully first, or pick a different surface entirely. In all of those cases the honest answer is not more tile, and I would rather say so now than after.
