AI in School: Why My Kids Are Still Better Off with Books

4 min read

I’ve always believed that education isn’t about filling a bucket but lighting a fire. This conviction hit me again the other day when my daughter came home with a tattered novel tucked under her arm, her eyes alight with the excitement of a plot twist. She was animated, not by flashy animations or interactive screens, but by the age-old allure of a story well told. As an IVF specialist and angel investor, I’ve seen technology achieve wonders. Yet, when it comes to my kids’ education, I remain resolute: they are better off with books than with AI-driven classrooms.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a Luddite railing against progress. In my investment ventures and medical practice, I’ve witnessed AI’s potential to revolutionize sectors. But education isn’t another sector to disrupt; it’s a realm where human interaction, curiosity, and critical thinking must reign supreme. AI, I argue, should supplement rather than supplant these essential elements.

Consider this: AI in education promises to personalize learning, offering each student a tailored experience. It’s a thrilling prospect. However, I’ve observed that this customization often leads to isolation. My son, for instance, once used an AI-based language app. While it provided immediate feedback, it lacked the nuanced encouragement of a teacher or the camaraderie of classmates struggling through the same mispronunciations. The richness of learning, I’ve come to realize, often lies in shared experiences and collective problem-solving.

In medicine, we often talk about “the art of healing,” which goes beyond clinical algorithms. Similarly, education is an art. It requires the teacher’s intuition to understand when a student is struggling emotionally, not just academically. AI can sort through data and flag performance issues, but it can’t offer a reassuring smile or adjust the classroom atmosphere to soothe a child’s anxiety.

The proponents of AI in education argue that it frees teachers from mundane tasks, allowing them to focus on instruction. In theory, this is sound. But I wonder if it’s a bit like saying IVF technology can replace the nurturing aspect of parenting. Technology can assist, but it cannot replicate the human touch. Moreover, relying heavily on AI for grading or lesson planning might inadvertently encourage a one-size-fits-all approach, stripping away the individuality that makes teaching an art.

There are also significant concerns about data privacy and security. As an investor, I am well aware of the value of data and the risks associated with its misuse. The information AI systems collect from students could be vulnerable, and that’s a risk I’m not willing to take with my children. The thought of my daughter’s learning patterns being mined for commercial purposes is unsettling.

Moreover, there’s the argument of cognitive off-loading. I’ve read reports suggesting that when students rely on AI to get answers, they might lose the ability to think critically. This isn’t just a minor concern. In a world where information is at our fingertips, the ability to question, analyze, and synthesize information is more crucial than ever. My kids’ homework, for instance, has become a window into how they think, not just what they know. It’s this process of thinking that AI tools, however sophisticated, struggle to nurture (source).

The allure of AI’s promise in education is undeniable. It can potentially democratize education, offering resources to those in underserved regions. Yet, we must tread carefully. There is a risk of widening the gap between those who can afford high-quality AI tools and those who cannot. In this regard, AI might exacerbate educational inequalities rather than alleviate them.

Ultimately, the core of learning is curiosity and the joy of discovery. This is something I’ve written about before (source). My kids’ exploration of the world through books, their discussions with peers, and the mistakes they make and learn from are invaluable. AI can assist, but it should not dictate their learning journey. As both a parent and a professional, I advocate for an educational approach that champions the irreplaceable value of human interaction, creativity, and the tactile joy of flipping through the pages of a book.

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