Ialways assumed that before AI destroyed our humanity, we’d at least put up a fight. No, I’m not talking about AI gaining consciousness and physically enslaving us (though I’m certainly not ruling that out as a possibility) — but it is alarming how quick many are to accept AI usage not just in their daily lives, but in education.
As an educator, I’ve heard high school teachers and college professors alike defend teaching AI usage in the classroom: “The technology isn’t going away, so kids have to learn how to use it responsibly.” “AI can be a useful tool.” “Learning how to write the right prompts is a marketable skill.” They say we should not only allow but encourage students to use AI to brainstorm ideas, write outlines, and provide feedback on their work.
On the surface, these suggestions can seem benign. Our society is pushing the idea that AI usage is not only inevitable but good. “You’re a writer,” a silky tone on an advertisement for AI software sings, “even if you are the kind who relies on AI.” Okay, so that’s not the exact verbiage, but that’s the idea we’re being sold. We’re reassured that AI can simply be a legitimate “tool.” You are a writer even if you use an AI generator. You are an artist just by instructing prompts. You are a creator, although it’s the algorithms doing the creating.
If the goal is simply to produce outcomes, one could argue that AI usage should not just be tolerated but encouraged. But education shouldn’t be about producing outcomes – whether it be a sparkling essay or a gripping short story – but shaping souls. The purpose of writing isn’t to instruct a prompt or even to produce a quality paper. The purpose is to become a strong thinker and someone who enriches the lives of everyone, no matter their profession.
Each and every step of the struggle it takes to write is essential. Yes, it can all be arduous and time-consuming. As a writer, I get how hard it is and how tempting it might be to take shortcuts. But doing so is cheating oneself out of growth and intellectual payoff. Outsourcing parts of the process to algorithms and machines is outsourcing the rewards of doing one’s own thinking. Organizing ideas, refining word choices, thinking about tone are all skills that many citizens in this nation lack, and it’s often apparent in our chaotic, senseless public discourse. These are not steps to be skipped over with a “tool,” but rather things people benefit from learning if they value reason. Strong writing is strong thinking.
But these thoughts aren’t just my own opinions. A recent MIT study shows that AI usage decreases cognitive function like critical thinking. Seems rather odd to insist that something proven to weaken our brains should be introduced to places where institutions of learning, isn’t it?
Many argue that in order to thrive in today’s job market, young people need to master the skill of “writing prompts.” The assumption is that it’s a great skill to learn how to tell a robot to do a job for you; a skill so great, in fact, that we need to send kids to school for it. For decades, educators have argued kids need screen time to prepare them for today’s job market. They acted as if using the internet were a skill that needs years of training when in reality three-year-olds naturally become experts. Let us first focus on developing the minds of the youth — something best done without AI assistance — and then let them use those skills in the workplace as needed. Students should aspire to be more than mere “prompt writers,” but minds capable of thinking, reasoning, and perseverance.
Hellbound and Down 