Discover how student use of AI in schools is leading to a "burgeoning crisis" and what it means to be human in the age of artificial intelligence.
The Concord Monitor recently reported on the significant challenges posed by student AI use in New Hampshire schools, describing it as a "burgeoning crisis." High school students interviewed by reporter Jeremy Margolis expressed feelings of demotivation and a "noticeable cognitive deterioration." The core issue extends beyond simple cheating; students perceive that their genuine efforts and original work are devalued. They believe that AI-generated submissions, even if not truly reflecting personal learning or skill, are often judged as superior and receive higher grades. This sentiment is reinforced by observations from educators like Marc Watkins, who highlight a more profound problem: students are questioning the fundamental purpose of their endeavors when artificial intelligence can seemingly perform tasks better and more efficiently than humans, leading to an existential crisis of meaning for the younger generation.
In response to the growing concerns about AI's impact, the author, an 80-year-old individual, offers a personal reflection on what it means to be human and how one can cultivate meaning in a world increasingly dominated by artificial intelligence. His perspective predates the widespread integration of AI, providing a contrasting viewpoint. The author seeks to address fundamental questions: What remains our unique role if AI excels at everything? How do we find self-actualization and purpose when technology can mimic or surpass human capabilities? To illustrate his argument, he plans to draw upon two significant avocations from his life: photography and writing.
The author delves into his experience with photography to demonstrate the irreplaceable value of human effort and unique vision. Initially, he dismissed personal photography during vacations, believing mass-produced postcards could better capture natural wonders. However, his journey through darkroom courses transformed his understanding. He realized that the act of taking a photograph (the raw image) is merely the "musical notes in the score," while the true "performance" is the final print, meticulously manipulated in the darkroom. This process, often involving "blood, sweat and tears," allows the photographer to infuse their personal interpretation and vision into the art. This intensive engagement and the commitment required to master a craft, however imperfectly, is presented as the very "essence of what makes us human," contrasting sharply with the instantaneous and effortless output of AI.
Building on the insights from photography, the author discusses writing as another personal passion that exemplifies human distinctiveness. He emphasizes that ideas for an essay do not arrive "fully formed, like it was downloaded from AI." Instead, they emerge as vague, often incoherent, and contradictory presences that require deep engagement. Quoting Mariah Faith Continelli, he highlights that the "uncomfortable, unresolved stretch" of doubting, testing, and evolving an idea is not a flaw but the very "process" itself. This engagement transforms a generic concept into an original and personal statement. The author concludes that this commitment to the creative process—the active struggle, exploration, and manifestation of one's unique take on life—is precisely what AI bypasses. It is this engagement, this human-centric process of creation and struggle, that fundamentally defines and enriches our human experience.