You're asking the right question, but I think there’s a bigger one lurking underneath: Why are we so bad at resisting shiny objects in education?
FOMO doesn’t just happen in a vacuum. It’s a symptom of deeper issues in our system. Too often, education leaders aren’t solving real classroom problems—they’re solving political or PR problems. “Look at what we’re doing! We’re innovative!” becomes the goal, and AI fits neatly into that narrative. The result? A parade of half-baked implementations that look good in a press release but leave teachers scrambling to make it work in practice.
And let’s talk about the creativity and critical thinking angle. The argument that AI is somehow “necessary” to foster these skills feels...weak. Teachers have always taught creativity, and they’ve done it under conditions far less flashy than today’s tech-enabled classrooms. The truth is, AI might not be a tool for fostering creativity so much as a mirror, reflecting back the limits of a system that doesn’t trust teachers to do this work without a gadget. What if the real problem AI adoption is trying to solve isn’t creativity, but our collective impatience with the slow, complex process of human learning?
Even the “acceptable” answers you propose—saving time on Task X or teaching Content Q better—don’t escape scrutiny. Saving time is nice, but for what? Is it to free up teachers for deeper work, or is it to pile on more tasks? Teaching a skill better? Sure—but does AI redefine what better even means, or does it just standardize mediocrity?
Maybe the hardest truth here is that AI isn’t solving a problem. It’s exposing one: we’ve forgotten that the heart of education is relationships—between teachers, students, and ideas. No algorithm can replicate that, and chasing the next big thing won’t fix the fear that we’re losing it.
So yes, keep asking, “What problem will this solve?” But maybe also ask, “What are we afraid of if we don’t adopt this?” That’s where the real conversation begins.
The pr for this industry hype for ai is as seemingly endless as the power they'll need from three mile island to make ai slop. I imagine like crypto they'll eventually need to burn tires and construction debris in carbon county Pennsylvania to power it. It's nauseating.
If there is something I loathe it i a solution to a problem not understood, or in this case delineated.
I am old enough to remember the crisis in chemistry education over whether to allow students to use electronic, hand-held calculators in class. At that time (50 years ago) I argued they were a tool, no different from slide rules.
I make the same argument now. AI aps are tools, so what are they allowed on. I argue that not allowing them on writing essays is a no brainer. To write an essay, you must understand he topic, rough out an approach/outline, and then choose words to express your points. Each of these steps involves learning. To bypass them with an AI prompt (probably copied and pasted from the assignment) is to forestall learning.
You're asking the right question, but I think there’s a bigger one lurking underneath: Why are we so bad at resisting shiny objects in education?
FOMO doesn’t just happen in a vacuum. It’s a symptom of deeper issues in our system. Too often, education leaders aren’t solving real classroom problems—they’re solving political or PR problems. “Look at what we’re doing! We’re innovative!” becomes the goal, and AI fits neatly into that narrative. The result? A parade of half-baked implementations that look good in a press release but leave teachers scrambling to make it work in practice.
And let’s talk about the creativity and critical thinking angle. The argument that AI is somehow “necessary” to foster these skills feels...weak. Teachers have always taught creativity, and they’ve done it under conditions far less flashy than today’s tech-enabled classrooms. The truth is, AI might not be a tool for fostering creativity so much as a mirror, reflecting back the limits of a system that doesn’t trust teachers to do this work without a gadget. What if the real problem AI adoption is trying to solve isn’t creativity, but our collective impatience with the slow, complex process of human learning?
Even the “acceptable” answers you propose—saving time on Task X or teaching Content Q better—don’t escape scrutiny. Saving time is nice, but for what? Is it to free up teachers for deeper work, or is it to pile on more tasks? Teaching a skill better? Sure—but does AI redefine what better even means, or does it just standardize mediocrity?
Maybe the hardest truth here is that AI isn’t solving a problem. It’s exposing one: we’ve forgotten that the heart of education is relationships—between teachers, students, and ideas. No algorithm can replicate that, and chasing the next big thing won’t fix the fear that we’re losing it.
So yes, keep asking, “What problem will this solve?” But maybe also ask, “What are we afraid of if we don’t adopt this?” That’s where the real conversation begins.
The pr for this industry hype for ai is as seemingly endless as the power they'll need from three mile island to make ai slop. I imagine like crypto they'll eventually need to burn tires and construction debris in carbon county Pennsylvania to power it. It's nauseating.
If there is something I loathe it i a solution to a problem not understood, or in this case delineated.
I am old enough to remember the crisis in chemistry education over whether to allow students to use electronic, hand-held calculators in class. At that time (50 years ago) I argued they were a tool, no different from slide rules.
I make the same argument now. AI aps are tools, so what are they allowed on. I argue that not allowing them on writing essays is a no brainer. To write an essay, you must understand he topic, rough out an approach/outline, and then choose words to express your points. Each of these steps involves learning. To bypass them with an AI prompt (probably copied and pasted from the assignment) is to forestall learning.