Could AI Break Schools? I Hope So.
We've accepted such a low level of meaningfulness in our schooling.
As a former Middle School teacher and a former public school student, I believe our schooling system fails in one of its most critical tasks: to provide education that is emotional significant, i.e., meaningful, to students. Instead, our schools continue to rely on coercive practices to force students to acquire predetermined chunks of intellectual meaning. The result is an epidemic of student disengagement that we consider to be the normal state of affairs.
While I had largely given up on seeing fundamental change to our schooling system in my lifetime, I’m now wondering if the development of generative AI could be a sort of wrecking ball to bring about some of the radical transformation in education I’ve been hoping for. That’s what I attempt to explore in this post.
To be clear, teaching was the most difficult job I ever had and I have tremendous respect for K-12 teachers, many of whom shell out their own money for school supplies and put their hearts and souls into their vocation. I want public schooling to continue and flourish. My beef is with our persistently autocratic system of education that suffocates students’ natural desire to make-meaning, despite the good intentions of many teachers.
In addition, I have big concerns about AI, including ethical ones, and so I’m not trying to promote naive techno-optimistic arguments about AI.
Autocratic Schooling
Our standard educational approach (for K-12 public and private schools), in which 20-35+ children of the same age are made to sit still in a classroom for most of the school day while an adult directs every aspect of their learning activities, is ineffective and damaging. While many teachers might argue that they engage their students in active learning, rather than long lectures, I would encourage them to consider how little say students have in the content and structure of these activities. Sure, in high school, students can have some selection of classes, but this is a narrow range of choices of subject matter that are still delivered in the same manner — autocratically.
That word may sound too strong to be applied to kind teachers who care about their students, but when you consider how little actual power a student has, what else can we call it? Certainly it is nothing resembling democracy.
Young people who are never given opportunities to practice meaningful democracy at school are much more likely to grow up to be politically disengaged citizens who are distrustful of democracy. Making decisions about the prom theme is not what I’m talking about – students should have some meaningful decision making power over what they learn and how they learn it. While we like to brag that we’re a democratic republic (in the US), most of us spend our youth in dictatorial school environments, then we move on to dictatorial work environments in adulthood.
From the perspective of the meaning-making model I’ve been developing on this blog, schools are generally a disaster. Good meaning-making requires personal agency and the building of meaningful relationships. I’ve already covered the lack of agency for students, but what about relationships? In most classroom settings, interactions between students are viewed as a distraction unless they follow the very narrow definition of “staying on task.” Students must sneak in relationship-building between classes. On every day of every year in school, my son has had a mathematics class, but he has never had a class devoted to building and maintaining relationships.
This commitment to narrow intellectual learning at the expense of emotionally significant learning stifles our natural love of learning. Just as I watched my own innate passion for learning get ground away by the schooling system, I have watched it again with my son, and I regret not having had the resources earlier in his school life to find alternatives or homeschool him. My own love of learning was reborn after taking a three-year break from school and then attending Goddard College, which had a radical student-centered, democratic approach to learning in which I designed my own educational program. Goddard was transformative for me (and has, unfortunately, closed.).
AI as a Catalyst for Change?
I despised being subject to autocracy as a student and I hated being an autocrat as a teacher. Why do we keep doing education this way? Besides the daunting task of forcing students to study content that is not emotionally meaningful to them, teachers are also tasked with measuring the students’ intellectual absorption of the required material (to produce grades), along with other paperwork and school duties.
In this atmosphere of overworked adults attempting to implement a program of pervasive control and measurement of children, AI is clearly problematic because it’s giving students such a powerful way to game the system – to cheat. Did the kid actually write this essay, answer this question, or complete this calculation? It’s getting harder and harder to tell. Since our educational approach is so essentially coercive, and many students have so little investment in the content they didn’t choose, and which is being delivered through lecture, worksheets and painfully dull textbooks, why wouldn’t students be incentivized to game the system?
Yes, in-class exams are still a counter-strategy as they require students to cram and memorize (and quickly forget) content, and perhaps our test-driven education will become even more test-obsessed, but that’s just going to drive students into even more advanced gaming strategies with ever more powerful AI.
I would have used AI, as a public school student, in all but a few of the classes that I actually enjoyed (e.g., architectural drafting, art, woodshop). At Goddard College, where my education was almost completely in my control and I was studying things I was passionate about, I had no incentive to cheat and would only have used AI as a learning assistant. This is the essential point: AI is only problematic when you are attempting to force students to learn things that aren’t meaningful to them.
My hope is that the gig is up – AI is challenging us to take coercion out of education. And it’s also potentially providing tools to make education more personalized, engaging and, hell, more sustainable for teachers.
When I was a teacher, the most rewarding experiences for me were when I had the time to connect with students one-on-one or in small groups and engage with them on something they cared about. It was the larger scale of teaching that was typically the source of my frustrations – herding big classes of students around the building, keeping track of students who might have “illegally” wandered out of class, the grading of hundreds of assignments on the weekend instead of decompressing from the workweek.
Since web-connected AI clearly has access to so much information and can organize it much more quickly and effectively than most humans can, the traditional role of teacher as gatekeeper and deliverer of information is undermined, which is a relief.
AI has many risks, including being used as a tool of autocracy, but for our schooling system, I remain hopeful that it can be a tool of both creative destruction and revitalization. Nothing else has been capable of dislodging our worn-out autocratic educational methodology.



As always, Brian, I am mostly in radical agreement. We condition our children to hate education and to suppress their natural curiosity and enthusiasm. I would even go a step further and say we actually gaslight them, insisting that their intuition is wrong and they're really somehow going to need all the random bits of information they are forced to internalize. If you've never read Jacque Ellul on the subject, I recommend it-- he goes so far as to say that our education conditions us to be propagandized as adults and thus, obedient little citizens ripe for control.
But let me try to make the counterargument. I've been an educator for 15 years, and a student my entire life. Nobody really *wants* to study. Nobody really wants to concentrate for hours. *Some* learning is in fact fun, spontaneous, meaningful, engaging. But most isn't: it's just work. Learning something new and unfamiliar will *feel* unnatural, particularly because (as Daniel Kahneman pointed out) we are cognitive misers and System 2 thinking is energy-intensive, literally painful. Why, then, do we coerce people into doing it? Why children, in particular?
I would draw the analogy of joining a sports team. When you sign up, you essentially acknowledge you are entering into an unequal and authoritarian relationship. It's not about your feelings and it's not about your choices. The coach tells you to run three laps, you run three laps. The coach tells you to keep your arms up, you keep your arms up. It's not a discussion. Some things won't appear to make sense. So why not just put all the kids out on the field and encourage them to "explore"? Why not just allow every kid to make their own meaning and acquire the skills at their own pace?
Because the coach knows something the player doesn't. The coach knows what "good" looks like and how to get people there. The coach knows all the mental and emotional barriers someone will encounter, the tricks the mind plays to justify compromise and failure. The player thinks "I can't ever be that fast" and the coach thinks "But actually you can." The player thinks "This hurts and I don't see the point" and the coach thinks "I know, but push through it and later you'll understand."
The best athletes aren't the ones who directed their own training. Learning, especially for children, is the same way. Children (even exceptionally bright ones) aren't prepared to recognize their own psychological barriers, the self-serving rationalizations for not working. They won't be able to see that when their brain says "Today isn't the right day" that actually NO day is the right day. They won't be able to see that when their brain says, "I'm just not any good at this subject" that that is just a compensation for, "I didn't realize how hard this would be, and I'm intimidated."
Now let me describe the other side of the coin. You may know I teach diplomatic professionals, some of the smartest and most educated people in the country. They're passionate and they're dedicated.
But my classes don't have grades or any other kind of coercion. I work hard to design complex and multi-faceted scenarios that challenge them to think about competing priorities and necessary trade-offs, that foster creative thinking and make them better. Most follow along and engage. But quite a few use their "freedom" to simply Google the answer or *change* the scenario, to remove the dilemma so they don't have to confront hard choices. And when I confront them, they will shrug and actually say: I didn't WANT to make that decision. That decision made me feel uncomfortable. I prefer to make *this* decision over here, which is more in line with my feelings about the way the world should work. And in the extreme, they will actually *complain* to my management that I put them in a hypothetical situation that made them feel uncomfortable. Yes, really.
Agency, emotional engagement, and relationship-building I agree with. But students are not always the best arbiters of what they should and shouldn't learn, or should and shouldn't feel.