Ever since ChatGPT launched last fall, heralding the rise of artificial intelligence models that can write college essays and generate computer code at least as competently as the average undergraduate, my inbox has been flooded with worry and excitement about what all of this will mean for schools and universities.
I recently joined a group of UNC-Chapel Hill faculty for a discussion about AI and education, and opinions around the table ran from cautious optimism to apocalyptic panic. But the most interesting thing was how quickly any deep conversation about AI becomes an even deeper conversation about humanity. Identifying tasks we want to outsource to the machines and algorithms is easy. But deciding what we want to preserve for ourselves — how we want to use our brains and our time — forces some very basic questions about what defines a good and meaningful life. It’s a discussion that needs philosophers at least as much as computer scientists.
Demanding that students think well about those big questions is harder and more important than making sure they’ve mastered the latest innovation. My friend Molly Worthen, who teaches history at Carolina and writes a lot about higher education, wants to see colleges get back to their monastic roots, with introductory courses that shun screens in favor of old-fashioned reading and face-to-face discussion.
“If universities immerse students in the latest technology from the moment they set foot on campus, they don’t have a chance to hone the skills in communication and concentration they need,” she said. “Students have to mature as writers and thinkers, to learn the value of quiet contemplation, before they can manage technology as a tool instead of becoming captive to it.” That approach could help rebuild addled attention spans and emphasize genuine human connection, something that young people are struggling with on a grand scale.
The U.S. Surgeon General issued a dire report last week that charts the steep rise in isolation among Americans of all ages, but especially the young. “Approximately half of U.S. adults report experiencing loneliness, with some of the highest rates among young adults,” the report warns. For Americans ages 15-24, “time spent in-person with friends has reduced by nearly 70 percent over almost two decades, from roughly 150 minutes per day in 2003 to 40 minutes per day in 2020.” Meanwhile, the percentage of teens who report being online “almost constantly” has doubled since 2015.
College ought to be a prime opportunity for combating that sad trend, emphasizing the power of friendship and connection to create a joyful life. That’s less likely to happen if we give students yet another reason to stare into glowing glass rectangles all day.
Some of the most dystopian predictions I’ve seen about the rise of AI deal with its potential to replace human connection with digital substitutes. Companies are already offering algorithmic “companions” who can supposedly provide the upside friendship without any of the messy mutual obligation that comes along with genuine care.
“Today’s AI chatbots are more human-like and empathetic than ever before,” writes Silicon Valley venture capitalists at Andreesen Horowitz in one of the most unsettling corporate blog posts I’ve ever read. “But because they aren’t actually human, they don’t carry the same baggage that people do. Chatbots won’t gossip about us behind our backs, ghost us, or undermine us. Instead, they are here to offer us judgment-free friendship, providing us with a safe space when we need to speak freely.”
Call me old-fashioned, but I will take the occasional gossip and judgment of my flesh-and-blood friends over the vacant validation of a talkative statistical model. Teaching students to embrace the joy and hardship of genuine relationships — to be more interesting and humane than an algorithm — will mean reclaiming some of the ground that old-school humanities disciplines have lost in recent decades.
I don’t know if that means turning college campuses into modern monasteries, but it definitely means more time with our heads in books and our hearts in conversation. We’re not going to outcompete the robots on efficiency, so let’s get better at being humans.
Contributing columnist Eric Johnson lives in Chapel Hill. He works for the UNC System and the College Board, and you can reach him at ericjohnson@unc.edu.
©2023 The Charlotte Observer. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
