Custom Bot Segregation and the Problem with a Hobbled Product

CSU’s adoption of ChatGPT Edu is, in many ways, a welcome move. The System has recognized that generative AI is no longer optional or experimental. It is part of the work students, researchers, and educators do across disciplines. Providing a dedicated version of the platform with institutional controls makes sense. But the way it has been implemented has led to a diminished version of what could have been a powerful tool.

The most immediate concern is the complete ban on third-party custom bots. Students and faculty cannot use them, and even more frustrating, they cannot share the ones they create beyond their own campus. The motivation is likely grounded in cybersecurity and privacy concerns. But the result is a flawed solution that restricts access to useful tools and blocks opportunities for creativity and professional development.

Some of the most valuable GPTs in use today come from third-party developers who specialize in specific domains. Bots that incorporate Wolfram, for instance, have become essential in areas like physics, engineering, and data science. ScholarAI and ScholarGPT are very useful in research, and not easy to replicate. There are hundreds more potentially useful tools. Not having access to those tools on the CSU platform is not just a minor technical gap. It is an educational limitation.

The problem becomes even clearer when considering what students are allowed to do with their own work. If someone builds a custom GPT in a course project, they cannot share it publicly. There is no way to include it in a digital portfolio or present it to a potential employer. The result is that their work remains trapped inside the university’s system, unable to circulate or generate value beyond the classroom.

This limitation also weakens CSU’s ability to serve the public. Take, for example, an admissions advisor who wants to create a Custom bot to help prospective or transfer students explore majors or understand credit transfers. The bot cannot be shared with anyone outside the CSU environment. In practice, the people who most need that information are blocked from using it. This cuts against the mission of outreach and access that most universities claim to support.

Faced with these limits, faculty and staff are left to find workarounds. Some are like me and now juggle two accounts, one tied to CSU’s system and another personal one that allows access to third-party tools. We have to pay for our personal accounts out of pocket. This is not sustainable, and it introduces friction into the very work the platform was meant to support.

Higher education functions best when it remains open to the world. It thrives on collaboration across institutions, partnerships with industry, and the free exchange of ideas and tools. When platforms are locked down and creativity is siloed, that spirit is lost. We are left with a version of academic life that is narrower, more cautious, and less connected.

Of course, privacy and security matter. But so does trust in the people who make the university what it is. By preventing sharing and disabling custom bots, the policy sends a message that students and faculty cannot be trusted to use these tools responsibly. It puts caution ahead of creativity and treats containment as a form of care.

The solution is not difficult. Other platforms already support safer modes of sharing, such as read-only access, limited-time links, or approval systems. CSU could adopt similar measures and preserve both privacy and openness. What is needed is not better technology, but a shift in priorities.

Custom GPTs are not distractions. They are how people are beginning to build, explain, and share knowledge. If we expect students to thrive in that environment, they need access to the real tools of the present, not a constrained version from the past.

The Start-up Advantage and the Plain Bot Paradox

In the gold rush to AI, start-ups seem, at first glance, to have the upper hand. They are unburdened by legacy infrastructure, free from the gravitational pull of yesterday’s systems, and unshackled by customer expectations formed in a pre-AI era. They can begin with a blank canvas and sketch directly in silicon, building products that assume AI not as an add-on, but as the core substrate. These AI-native approaches are unencumbered by the need to retrofit or translate—start-ups speak the native dialect of today’s machine learning systems, while incumbents struggle with costly accents.

In contrast, larger, established companies suffer from what could be called "retrofitting fatigue." Their products, honed over decades, rest on architectures that predate the transformer model. Introducing AI into such ecosystems isn’t like adding a module; it’s more akin to attempting a heart transplant on a marathon runner mid-race. Not only must the product work post-op, it must continue to serve a massive, often demanding, user base—an asset that is both their moat and their constraint.

Yet even as start-ups celebrate their greenfield momentum, they stumble into what we might call the plain bot paradox. No matter how clever the product, if the end-user can get equivalent value from a general-purpose AI like ChatGPT, what exactly is the start-up offering? The open secret in AI product development is this: it is easier than ever to build a “custom” bot that mimics almost any vertical-specific product. The problem is not technical feasibility. It’s differentiation.

A travel-planning bot? A productivity coach? A recruiter-screening assistant? All of these are delightful until a user realizes they can recreate something just as functional using a combination of ChatGPT and a few well-worded prompts. Or worse, that OpenAI or Anthropic might quietly roll out a built-in feature next week that wipes out an entire startup category—just as the “Learn with ChatGPT” feature recently did to a slew of bespoke AI tutoring tools. This isn’t disruption. It’s preemption.

The real kicker is that start-ups not only compete with each other but also with the very platforms they’re building on. This is like opening a coffee stand on a street where Starbucks has a legal right to install a kiosk next to you at any moment—and they already own the espresso machine.

So if start-ups risk commodification and incumbents risk inertia, is anyone safe? Some large companies attempt a third route: the internal start-up. Known in management lore as a “skunk works” team—originally a term coined at Lockheed to describe a renegade engineering group—these are designed to operate with the nimbleness of a start-up but the resources of a conglomerate. But even these in-house rebels face the plain bot paradox. They too must justify why their innovation can’t be replicated by a general AI and a plug-in. A sandboxed innovation team is still building castles on the same sand.

Which brings us to a more realistic and arguably wiser path forward for incumbents: don’t chase AI gimmicks, and certainly don’t just layer AI onto old products and call it transformation. (Microsoft, bless its heart, seems to be taking this route—slathering Copilot across its suite like a condiment, hoping it will make stale workflows taste fresh again.) Instead, the challenge is to imagine and invest in products that are both fundamentally new and fundamentally anchored in the company’s core assets—distribution, brand trust, proprietary data, deep domain expertise—things no plain bot can copy overnight.

For example, a bank doesn’t need to build yet another AI budgeting assistant. It needs to ask what role it can play in a world where money advice is free and instant. Perhaps the future product isn’t a dashboard, but a financial operating system deeply integrated with the bank’s own infrastructure—automated, secure, regulated, and impossible for a start-up to replicate without decades of licensing and customer trust.

In other words, companies must bet not on AI as a bolt-on feature, but on rethinking the problems they’re uniquely positioned to solve in an AI-saturated world. This might mean fewer moonshots and more thoughtful recalibrations. It might mean killing legacy products before customers are ready, or inventing new categories that make sense only if AI is taken for granted.

The trick, perhaps, is to act like a start-up but think like an incumbent. And for start-ups? To act like an incumbent long before they become one. Because in a world of rapidly generalizing intelligence, the question is not what can be built, but what can endure.

Why Agentic AI Is Not What They Say It Is

There is a lot of hype around agentic AI, systems that can take a general instruction, break it into steps, and carry it through without help. The appeal is obvious: less micromanagement, more automation. But in practice, it rarely delivers.

These systems operate unsupervised. If they make a small mistake early on, they carry it forward, step by step, without noticing. By the time the result surfaces, the damage is already baked in. It looks finished but is not useful.

Humans handle complexity differently. We correct course as we go. We spot inconsistencies, hesitate when something feels off, we correct. That instinctive supervision that is often invisible, is where most of the value lies. Not in brute output, but in the few moves that shape it. 

The irony is that the more reliable and repeatable a task is, the less sense it makes to use AI. Traditional programming is better suited to predictable workflows. It is deterministic, transparent, and does not hallucinate. So if the steps are that well defined, why introduce a probabilistic system at all?

Where AI shines is in its flexibility, its ability to assist in murky, open-ended problems. But those are exactly the problems where full AI autonomy breaks down. The messier the task, the more essential human supervision becomes.

There is also cost. Agentic AI often burns through vast compute resources chasing the slightly misunderstood task. And once it is done, a human still has to step in and rerun it? burning through even more resources.

Yes, AI makes humans vastly more productive. But the idea that AI agents will soon replace humans overseeing AI feels wrong. At least I have not seen anything even remotely capable of doing so. Human supervision is not a weakness to be engineered away. It is where the human-machine blended intelligence actually happens.

AI Isn't Evolving as Fast as Some Thought

It is not the most popular opinion, but it deserves to be said out loud: the technology behind large language models hasn’t fundamentally changed since the public debut of ChatGPT in late 2022. There have been improvements, yes—more parameters, better fine-tuning, cleaner interfaces—but the underlying mechanism hums along just as it did when the world first became obsessed with typing prompts into a chat window and marveling at the answers. The much-promised “qualitative leap” hasn’t materialized. What we see instead is refinement, not reinvention.

This is not to deny the impact. Even in its current form, this technology has triggered innovation across industries that will be unfolding for decades. Automation has been democratized. Creatives, coders, analysts, and educators all now work with tools that were unthinkable just a few years ago. The breakthrough did happen—it just didn’t keep breaking through.

The essential limitations are still intact, quietly persistent. Hallucinations have not gone away. Reasoning remains brittle. Context windows may be longer, but genuine comprehension has not deepened. The talk of “AGI just around the corner” is still mostly just that—talk. Agents show promise, but not results. What fuels the uber-optimistic narrative is not evidence but incentive. Entire industries, startups, and academic departments now have a stake in perpetuating the myth that the next paradigm shift is imminent. That the revolution is perennially just one release away. It is not cynicism to notice that the loudest optimists often stand to benefit the most.

But let’s be fair. This plateau, if that’s what it is, still sits high above anything we imagined achievable ten years ago. We’re not just dabbling with toys. We’re holding, in our browsers and apps, one of the most astonishing technological achievements of the 21st century. There’s just a limit to how much awe we can sustain before reality sets in.

And the reality is this: we might be bumping up against a ceiling. Not an ultimate ceiling, perhaps, but a temporary one—technical, financial, cognitive. There is only so far scaling can go without new theory, new hardware, or a conceptual shift in how these systems learn and reason. The curve is flattening, and the hype train is overdue for a slowdown. That does not spell failure. It just means it is time to stop waiting for the next miracle and start building with what we have already got.

History suggests that when expectations outpace delivery, bubbles form. They burst when the illusion breaks. AI might be heading in that direction. Overinvestment, inflated valuations, startups without real products—these are not signs of a thriving ecosystem but symptoms of a hype cycle nearing exhaustion. When the correction comes, it will sting, but it will also clear the air. We will be left with something saner, something more durable.

None of this diminishes the wonder of what we already have. It is just a call to maturity. The true revolution won’t come from the next model release. It will come when society learns to integrate these tools wisely, pragmatically, and imaginatively into its fabric. That is the work ahead—not chasing exponential growth curves, but wrestling with what this strange, shimmering intelligence means for how we live and learn.

Two Reactions to AI

A batch of student essays. About a third are clearly AI-generated. Two professors—same discipline, same university, same evidence—react in diametrically opposite ways. Rodrigo sighs with relief. Jane spirals into panic.

For Rodrigo, it is almost liberating. If his students can now write coherent college-level essays with the help of machines, then he is free to teach them something more ambitious. Argument structure, epistemology, stylistic nuance—areas where automation falters. He is not naïve; he knows AI is here to stay. But rather than fight it, he welcomes the detour. Less time marking the same intro-to-critical-writing dreck, more time pushing the intellectual envelope. Lucky him.

Jane, however, reads the situation as academic apocalypse. Her course was the product of years of iteration, finely tuned to teach writing through careful scoping, scaffolding, and feedback. Skip the process, she believes, and you skip the learning. The AI is not a tool in her eyes; it is a cheat code, one that threatens to render her teaching obsolete. She starts researching detection tools, imagining a future of surveillance, suspicion, and pedagogical collapse.

These are not just personality quirks or different thresholds for academic dishonesty. What really separates them is how they understand curriculum. For Rodrigo, curriculum is plastic—something owned, revised, improved. He feels empowered to tinker. If a foundational skill can be outsourced, then the baseline has shifted, and he can raise the stakes. A change in student capability is an opportunity, not a crisis.

Jane sees curriculum differently. For her, it is an infrastructure. Complex, interdependent, and not easily re-routed. Learning outcomes, general education requirements, accreditation standards—these are not suggestions, they are fixtures. If a key skill like essay-writing becomes an unreliable indicator of mastery, the whole sequence threatens to unravel. You cannot simply skip a floor in the building and hope the roof holds.

There is a quiet tragedy here. Not because Jane is wrong—her concerns are deeply valid—but because she feels disempowered by a system she herself has worked so hard to uphold. The larger structures of academia—its bureaucracies, its resistance to rapid change—amplify the sense of threat. It is not just that students are using ChatGPT; it is that there is no institutional plan, no curricular pivot, no workflow update to guide faculty through this transition. So each professor is left to improvise, bringing their own philosophies and tolerances to bear.

And that is where the real tension lies. Technology does not just disrupt skills—it exposes fault lines in our educational ideologies. Are we guardians of a process or facilitators of progress? Should we protect the sequence, or adjust the map when shortcuts appear?

Rodrigo shrugs and walks forward. Jane looks for the brakes. But maybe it is not about who is right. Maybe the more urgent task is to build a system where professors do not have to choose between clinging to the past and embracing a future they did not ask for. Because either way, the syllabus is no longer entirely ours to write.

UPD: Thanks to my colleague Hogan Hays for his thoughtful critique of this blog. 

The Subtle Art of Monopolizing New Technology

Monopolizing new technology is rarely the result of some grand, sinister plan. More often, it quietly emerges from self-interest. People do not set out to dominate a market; they simply recognize an opportunity to position themselves between groundbreaking technology and everyday users. The most effective tactic? Convince people that the technology is far too complex or risky to handle on their own.

It starts subtly. As soon as a new tool gains attention, industry insiders begin highlighting its technical challenges—security risks, integration headaches, operational difficulties. Some of these concerns may be valid, but they also serve a convenient purpose: You need us to make this work for you.

Startups are particularly skilled at this. Many offer what are essentially "skins"—polished interfaces built on top of more complex systems like AI models. Occasionally, these tools improve workflows. More often, they simply act as unnecessary middlemen, offering little more than a sleek dashboard while quietly extracting value. By positioning their products as essential, these startups slide themselves between the technology and the user, profiting from the role they have created. 

Technical language only deepens this divide. Buzzwords like API, tokenization, and retrieval-augmented generation (RAG) are tossed around casually. The average user may not understand these terms. The result is predictable: the more confusing the language, the more necessary the “expert.” This kind of jargon-laden gatekeeping turns complexity into a very comfortable business model.

Large organizations play this game just as well. Within corporate structures, IT departments often lean into the story of complexity to justify larger budgets and expanded teams. Every new tool must be assessed for “security vulnerabilities,” “legacy system compatibility,” and “sustainability challenges.” These concerns are not fabricated, but they are often exaggerated—conveniently making the IT department look indispensable.

None of this is to say that all intermediaries are acting in bad faith. New technology can, at times, require expert guidance. But the line between providing help and fostering dependence is razor-thin. One must ask: are these gatekeepers empowering users, or simply reinforcing their own relevance?

History offers no shortage of examples. In the early days of personal computing, jargon like RAM, BIOS, and DOS made computers feel inaccessible. It was not until companies like Apple focused on simplicity that the average person felt confident using technology unaided. And yet, here we are again—with artificial intelligence, blockchain, and other innovations—watching the same pattern unfold.

Ironically, the true allies of the everyday user are not the flashy startups or corporate tech teams, but the very tech giants so often criticized. Sometimes that criticism is justified, other times it is little more than fashionable outrage. Yet these giants, locked in fierce competition for dominance, have every incentive to simplify access. Their business depends on millions of users engaging directly with their products, not through layers of consultants and third-party tools. The more accessible their technology, the more users they attract. These are the unlikely allies of a non-techy person. 

For users, the best strategy is simple: do not be intimidated by the flood of technical jargon or the endless parade of “essential” tools. Always ask: Who benefits from me feeling overwhelmed? Whenever possible, go straight to the source—OpenAI, Anthropic, Google. If you truly cannot figure something out, seek help when you need it, not when it is aggressively sold to you.

Technology should empower, not confuse. The real challenge is knowing when complexity is genuine and when it is merely someone else’s business model.

Why Parallel Integration Is the Sensible Strategy of AI Adoption in the Workplace

Artificial intelligence promises to revolutionize the way we work, offering efficiency gains and new capabilities. Yet, adopting AI is not without its challenges. One prudent approach is to integrate AI into existing workflows in parallel with human processes. This strategy minimizes risk, builds confidence, and allows organizations to understand where AI excels and where it stumbles before fully committing. I have described the problem of AI output validation before; it is a serious impediment to AI integration. Here is how to solve it.

Consider a professor grading student essays. Traditionally, this is a manual task that relies on the educator's expertise. Introducing AI into this process does not mean handing over the red pen entirely. Instead, the professor continues grading as usual but also runs the essays through an AI system. Comparing results highlights discrepancies and agreements, offering insights into the AI's reliability. Over time, the professor may find that the AI is adept at spotting grammatical errors but less so at evaluating nuanced arguments.

In human resources, screening job applications is a time-consuming task. An HR professional might continue their usual screening while also employing an AI tool to assess the same applications. This dual approach ensures that no suitable candidate is overlooked due to an AI's potential bias or error. It also helps the HR team understand how the AI makes decisions, which is crucial for transparency and fairness.

Accountants auditing receipts can apply the same method. They perform their standard checks while an AI system does the same in the background. Any discrepancies can be investigated, and patterns emerge over time about where the AI is most and least effective.

This strategy aligns with the concept of "double-loop learning" from organizational theory, introduced by Chris Argyris. Double-loop learning involves not just correcting errors but examining and adjusting the underlying processes that lead to those errors. By running human and AI processes in parallel, organizations engage in a form of double-loop learning—continually refining both human and AI methods. Note, it is not only about catching and understanding AI errors; the parallel process will also find human errors through the use of AI. The overall error level will decrease. 

Yes, running parallel processes takes some extra time and resources. However, this investment is modest compared to the potential costs of errors, compliance issues, or damaged reputation from an AI mishap. People need to trust technology they use, and bulding such trust takes time. 

The medical field offers a pertinent analogy. Doctors do not immediately rely on AI diagnoses without validation. They might consult AI as a second opinion, especially in complex cases. This practice enhances diagnostic accuracy while maintaining professional responsibility. Similarly, in business processes, AI can serve as a valuable second set of eyes. 

As confidence in the AI system grows, organizations can adjust the role of human workers. Humans might shift from doing the task to verifying AI results, focusing their expertise where it's most needed. This gradual transition helps maintain quality and trust, both internally and with clients or stakeholders.

In short, parallel integration of AI into work processes is a sensible path that balances innovation with caution. It allows organizations to harness the benefits of AI while managing risks effectively. By building confidence through experience and evidence, businesses can make informed decisions about when and how to rely more heavily on AI.

The Stealth AI Adoption

In modern workplaces, a quiet trend is taking hold: employees are secretly adopting artificial intelligence tools to enhance their work. Whether it is writing, designing, coding, or creating content, many are leveraging AI without informing their bosses. This “stealth AI adoption” is likely more widespread than managers realize.

Consider Alex, a software developer at a bustling tech firm. To streamline his coding process, Alex uses an AI assistant that can generate snippets of code in seconds. This tool not only saves him hours each week but also allows him to tackle more complex projects. However, Alex keeps this AI helper under wraps. Why? He has two choices: use the extra time for personal activities or take on additional work to appear more productive than his peers. There is no actual incentive to admit the use of AI. In some shops, cybersecurity people will come after you, if you confess. 

This hidden use of AI offers clear benefits for employees. Saving a few hours each week is tempting, whether for personal pursuits or to discreetly boost one’s workload. As a result, many organizations might be underestimating how extensively AI is being integrated into daily tasks.

Productivity can be measured in two ways: doing the same work with fewer people or doing more with the same number. The latter is a healthier, more sustainable approach. To achieve true success, organizations should aim to do more with their existing workforce rather than cutting staff. However, the stealth adoption of AI complicates this goal.

When employees use AI tools without disclosure, organizations miss out on opportunities to harness these technologies strategically. Without knowing how AI is being utilized, companies can not provide proper training or integrate AI into their workflows effectively. This fragmented approach can lead to missed efficiency gains and a lack of cohesive progress.

To foster a productive and innovative environment, companies need to build trust with their employees. Here is how:

1. Reassure Employees: Let your team know that adopting AI will not lead to layoffs. Emphasize that AI is a tool to help them do their jobs better, not a replacement for their roles. In unionized environments, a conversation with labor leaders would be wise. 

2. Create Incentives for Disclosure: Encourage employees to share the AI tools they are using by offering rewards or recognition. This transparency can help management understand how AI is being integrated and identify best practices.

3. Do More with the Same People: Focus on expanding the scope of work and fostering innovation rather than cutting positions. This approach not only boosts morale but also drives the organization forward.

By building trust and creating a supportive environment, organizations can turn stealth AI adoption into a strategic advantage. Employees will feel comfortable sharing their AI discoveries, allowing organizations to implement these tools effectively and sustainably.

As we move further into the AI-driven era, organizations must address this hidden trend. Encouraging transparency about AI tools and developing clear strategies for their use can ensure that productivity gains are real and sustainable. Until then, the silent spread of AI will keep reshaping workplaces, one undisclosed tool at a time. 

Meet Jinni, a Universal Assistant Bot

In a busy campus with 30,000 students, hundreds of faculty, and staff, managing everyday tasks and emergencies can be tricky. Imagine a universal bot, named Jinni, designed to assist everyone regardless of what they want and need to happen. Here’s a glimpse into how this could transform daily life on campus.

Take Dr. Nguyen, for instance. A junior professor with a packed schedule, she was just invited to present at a conference in Milan but wasn't sure how to get funding. She turned to Jinni.
"Good afternoon, Professor Nguyen. What do you need today?" Jinni asked.
"I want to attend a conference in Milan. Can I get support?" she inquired.

Jinni quickly scanned the institutional website and the financial data wharehouse and responded, "In your College, it takes a request from your Associate Dean. There is still some travel budget left, but you need to hurry. However, if it’s not a peer-reviewed conference and you’re not presenting, I wouldn't bother—the College's policy does not allow for this."

It added, "If you’d rather tell me the details about the conference and upload the invitation letter, I can file the request for you. Or, you can follow the link and do it yourself."

Professor Nguyen appreciated the options and the clarity, and chose to upload her details, letting Jinni handle the rest. Within a minute, Jinni said "Done, you shuold hear from the dean's office within a week. I alrready checked your eligibility, and recommended the Associate Dean to approve."

Then there was Mr. Thompson, a new staff member who discovered a puddle in the lobby after a rainy night. He pulled out his phone and described the situation to Jinni.

"You need to file an urgent facilities request. Here’s the link. Would you like me to file one for you? If yes, take a picture of the puddle," Jinni offered. "But if it’s really bad, you may want to call them. Do you want me to dial?"

Mr. Thompson opted for the latter, and within moments, Jinni had connected him to the facilities team.

Finally, there was Jose, a student who had missed the course drop deadline because of a bad flu. Anxious and unsure what to do, he asked Jinni for help. 

"Sorry to hear you’ve been sick. Jose. Yes, there is a petition you can file with the Registrar," Jinni replied. "I can do it for you, but I need a few more details. Do you have a note from your doctor? If not, you should get it first, then take a picture of it for me. If you used the Campus Health Center, I can contact them for you to request documentation. I will then write and submit the petition on your behalf. I will also need a few details - which class, the instructore's name, when you got sick, etc." Jose was relieved to find a straightforward solution to his problem and began to answer Jinni's questions one by one. 

The technology to create a universal agent bot like Jinni is not yet on the open market, but all elements do already exist as prototypes. More advanced customizable AI models, trained on extensive and diverse datasets, are essential to handle such tasks. More active, agentic AI also does exist. It can file and submit forms, not just find them. But even if we could to simply find and interpret policy and procedures, and point users to the right forms, it would alredy be a huge step forward. 

Simplifying and streamlining hundreds of procedures that any complex organization develops is definitely possible, but we know few examples of successful transformations like that. The next best thing is to use AI to help people navigate those procedures. This will lower barriers for all and reduce transactional costs. 

The Three Wave Strategy of AI Implementation

Whether it's a university, a tech giant, a manufacturing company, a public utility, or a government agency, the complexity of operations can be overwhelming. To illustrate this point, Claude and I have generated a list of over 1,150 workflows typical for a large university, many of which can be further broken down into smaller, more specific processes.

Given this complexity, the question arises: Where do we start with AI implementation? The answer lies in a strategic, phased approach that considers the unique characteristics of each workflow and the organization's readiness for AI adoption.

The First Wave: Low-Hanging Fruit

The initial phase of AI implementation should focus on what we call the "low-hanging fruit" - workflows that meet three crucial criteria:

1. Self-evident quality: The output quality is immediately obvious and doesn't require complex evaluation.
2. Single-person control: The workflow is typically managed or executed by one individual.
3. Ready-made AI tools: The process can be enhanced using existing AI tools without requiring specialized development. It is either using one of the primary LLM's or building a custom bot.

These criteria help identify areas where AI can quickly and effectively augment human efforts, improving efficiency and potentially enhancing the quality of service provided. Based on these criteria, here's a priority list of workflows that could be considered for the first wave of AI implementation. These are just examples:

1. Student services
• Student and prospective student advising of all kinds
2. Resume and Cover Letter Review (Career Services)
   • Offering individual resume critiques
   • Assisting with cover letter development
3. Academic Policy Development and Enforcement (Academic Affairs)
   • Drafting and revising academic policies
4. Health Education and Outreach (Health and Wellness Services)
   • Creating and distributing health education materials
5. Sustainability Education and Outreach (Sustainability and Environmental Initiatives)
   • Creating sustainability guides and resources for campus community
6. Digital Marketing and Social Media Management (University Communications and Marketing)
   • Creating and curating content for various platforms
7. Grant Proposal Development and Submission (Research and Innovation)
   • Assisting faculty with proposal writing
8. Financial Aid Counseling (Financial Aid and Scholarships)
   • Providing one-on-one counseling sessions
   • Offering debt management and financial literacy education
9. Alumni Communications (Alumni Relations and Development)
   • Producing alumni magazines and newsletters
10. Scholarly Communications (Library Services)
    • Supporting faculty in publishing and copyright issues
    • Providing guidance on research impact metrics
11. International Student and Scholar Services (International Programs and Global Engagement)
    • Providing immigration advising and document processing

This first wave serves multiple purposes. It demonstrates the proof of principle, making more stakeholders comfortable with AI integration. It also helps build internal expertise and confidence in working with AI technologies. These early successes can pave the way for more ambitious implementations in the future.

The Second Wave: Tackling Costly Workflows

Once the organization has gained experience and confidence from the first wave, it can move on to more complex and costly workflows. These are typically processes that involve significant labor, occur frequently, and have a broad scope of impact on the organization. However, it is crucial to narrow down this list based on feasibility and readiness for AI implementation.

For instance, while teaching is undoubtedly one of the most labor-intensive and impactful processes in a university, we do not yet have sufficient knowledge on how to make it significantly more efficient through AI. Some processes, like teaching, may never be fully optimized by AI because to their inherently relational nature. 

Note, this is also an opportunity to review major workflows; they often evolved over the years, and are far from ideal efficiency. AI can help review these workflows, and recommend streamlining. And of course, AI can be integrated into actually doing the work. 

The Third Wave: Enterprise-Level Solutions

Only after successfully navigating the first two waves should an organization consider enterprise-level AI solutions. These solutions have the potential to radically redefine the organization's core operations, placing AI at the center of its processes. This level of integration requires a deep understanding of AI capabilities, a clear vision of the organization's future, and a robust infrastructure to support AI-driven operations. Most importantly, it requires specialized tools and high level of security. 

The Timeline and Exceptions

This phased approach to AI implementation is not a quick process. For most large, complex organizations, it could take a couple of decades to fully realize the potential of AI across all workflows. However, there are exceptions. Some businesses with simpler and fewer workflows, such as narrowly specialized customer service operations, may be able to leapfrog straight into the third wave, especially if they have prior experience with AI technologies.

But these are the exceptions rather than the rule. For the majority of organizations, the path to comprehensive AI implementation requires a well-thought-out strategy, clear priorities, and a focus on building confidence and expertise over time.

Integrating AI into a complex organization's workflows is a marathon, not a sprint. It asks for patience, strategic thinking, and a willingness to learn and adapt. The key is to approach this journey with a clear strategy, well-defined priorities, and a commitment to building internal AI expertise. 

AI is not going to implement itself, but governments can help

The AI hype has passed, and the overexcited futurists' voices are mercifully fading away. We're now entering a practical era where AI is leveraged to boost productivity in businesses, non-profit, and public organizations. This shift brings a sobering realization: AI integration requires a meticulous, pragmatic approach to build reliable and trustworthy systems. It's a lot of work and requires some strategy.

When a single person manages a well-defined workflow, integrating AI is relatively straightforward. It's easy to incorporate AI tools like ChatGPT or Claude to assist with ad copy, reports, or applications. The beauty of these scenarios lies in their simplicity - the user acts as both operator and quality controller, immediately judging the output's effectiveness.

However, the story changes dramatically when we shift to multi-user workflows or more complex processes, where both inputs and outputs are more of a collective responsibility. I recently spoke with an Accounts Payable team who posed a challenging question: "Yes, we can see that AI can help review travel claims, but can you guarantee it's going to be 100% accurate?" I couldn't provide that guarantee; I don't have time to conduct a hundred tests, and I don't even have access to a hundred travel reports. They emphasized their need for completely audit-proof outcomes. This conversation highlighted the trust issues that arise when moving from AI enthusiasts to skeptics in larger organizations. And organizations should have a healthy group of skeptics to remain viable.

I've also recently been a fly on the wall during discussions between healthcare executives and a U.S. lawmaker. The executives explained that each AI-assisted medical procedure needs validation, which is expensive and often duplicated across multiple hospital systems. This challenge extends beyond healthcare. For instance, when using AI to crunch data in all organizations, we need to understand its reliability in analyzing large datasets, cleaning them, and handling outliers.

The problem is that no private institution can conduct the kind of comprehensive testing and validation needed to establish trust in AI systems across various industries. We cannot seriously trust claims of startups who are trying to sell a specialized product to an industry or a government organization. It's not clear how a hypothetical validation private service would monetize such an endeavor.

This is where I believe government involvement becomes crucial. Instead of obsessing with deep fakes and ethics, that's what governments should be doing. Governments can collaborate with industry experts to develop standardized benchmarks for AI reliability and performance. They could establish certification programs that act as quality marks, assuring users that AI systems have undergone rigorous testing. Moreover, government funding could support businesses, NGOs, and government agencies in conducting extensive AI testing, especially benefiting smaller organizations lacking the necessary resources.

In my view, public-private partnerships are key to navigating these challenges. By leveraging expertise from both sectors, we can develop robust testing frameworks and create dependable AI systems. This approach would pave the way for more efficient and innovative workflows across industries, ensuring that the benefits of AI are realized while maintaining trust and reliability. 

AI-Positive Pedagogy: Navigating the Great Disruption

AI has disrupted the educational landscape. This disruption threatens the established sequence of skill development, from simple to mid-range to higher-level skills, by eroding traditional curriculum principles, particularly in the realm of student activities and assessment. As a profession, we face a critical decision: limit AI use or develop an AI-positive pedagogy.

While limiting AI use may seem tempting, it is ultimately unfeasible and fails to prepare students for the AI-infused world they will live in. Attempting to enforce strict limitations on AI use is not only impractical but also fails to acknowledge the potential benefits that AI can bring to education.

The only plausible path forward is to adapt a new pedagogy to harness the power of AI for the benefit of our students. This involves a shift towards authentic, discipline-specific assessments that mirror real-world applications of AI within various fields. By focusing on how AI is used in different disciplines, educators can create assessments that evaluate students' ability to effectively utilize AI tools in relevant contexts.

AI-positive pedagogy emphasizes the cultivation of higher-order thinking skills, such as prompt engineering and discerning thinking. Prompt engineering involves crafting effective queries and instructions for AI systems, while discerning thinking emphasizes the critical evaluation of AI-generated information and the ability to make informed decisions by combining AI insights with human judgment. These meta-AI skills are crucial for students to navigate and thrive in an AI-populated world.

AI-positive pedagogy should prepare students to work effectively in environments where human and artificial intelligence coexist and complement each other. By fostering skills in collaborating with AI systems, understanding the strengths of both human and artificial intelligence, and developing strategies for distributed problem-solving, educators can equip students to succeed in the AI-infused workplace.

The shift towards AI-positive pedagogy is well-rooted in past pedagogy and curriculum theory. Educators have long prioritized conceptual and higher-level skills over mechanical and procedural knowledge. The disruption caused by AI may serve as a catalyst for educators to finally achieve what they have been striving for over the past century. As we embrace AI-positive pedagogy, it is essential to re-evaluate the assumption that all effort leads to learning. Cognitive Load Theory suggests that learning can be optimized by managing the three types of cognitive load: intrinsic (inherent complexity of the learning material), extraneous (caused by ineffective instructional design), and germane (effort required to process and construct mental schemas). In the context of AI-positive pedagogy, this involves using AI tools to provide appropriate support and scaffolding as learners progress from lower-level to higher-level skills, while minimizing extraneous load and promoting germane load. Not all loss of effort by students is bad. If we are honest, much of learning work is extraneous, busy, or compliance/submission work anyway. By investigating the limits and structure of leapfrogging - skipping over mid-range skills to move from basic literacies and numeracies to creative, theoretical, and critical thinking - educators can harness the power of AI to accelerate student growth.

To develop a robust AI-positive pedagogy, educators and cognitive psychologists must collaborate to investigate how students interact with and perceive AI tools - alone or under teacher's guidance. This research should focus on understanding the mental models students develop when engaging with AI, and how these models differ from those associated with other educational tools. By exploring students' cognitive processes, researchers can identify the unique challenges and opportunities presented by AI in the learning environment.

It is also crucial to examine the emotional and motivational factors that influence students' engagement with AI tools. Understanding how students' attitudes, beliefs, and self-efficacy impact their willingness to adopt and effectively use AI in their learning can inform the design of AI-positive pedagogical strategies.

In addition to investigating student cognition and affect, researchers should also explore the social and cultural dimensions of AI use in education. This includes examining how AI tools can be leveraged to promote collaborative learning, foster inclusive learning environments, and bridge educational inequities.

To build a comprehensive AI-positive pedagogy, researchers and educators must also develop and validate practices for integrating AI into various disciplines and educational contexts. This involves creating guidelines for the use of AI in education, as well as establishing professional development programs to support educators in effectively implementing AI-positive pedagogical strategies.

The development of an evidence-based AI-positive pedagogy requires a concerted effort from the educational community. By investing in basic research, collaboration, and innovation, we can harness the potential of AI to transform education and empower students to thrive in an AI-infused world.

In Education, AI is an emergency

On one hand, AI presents an exhilarating leap forward, a kind of magic wand that promises to transform how we learn and teach. On the other hand,  this glam surface lies a grittier reality—one where the very essence of learning could be at risk.

In education, the core value lies in the process itself. The act of wrestling with ideas, constructing arguments, and stumbling over complex problems is where true learning happens. If a student turns to AI to write an essay, they might technically meet the assignment's requirements, but they've bypassed the intellectual struggle critical to internalizing knowledge. This worry has only deepened in the wake of the pandemic, which already strained educational norms and exposed glaring disparities. Introducing AI into this mix feels like throwing a wrench into an already delicate machine, risking the dilution of the educational experience and fostering a generation more adept at using tools than thinking independently.

Addressing this is no minor feat. It is not about rejecting AI's benefits outright, but rather about steering its use with a careful hand. Educators must become architects of a new curriculum that anticipates AI's influence and actively incorporates it in enriching ways. Perhaps this means designing projects where AI is expected to be used by the projects are still challenging and generate growth.

However, such a transformative approach to curriculum development is a colossal task, varied across academic disciplines and leveels of education. Educators need robust support systems, time to experiment and innovate, and backup from policies that understand and address these unique challenges. Governments and educational leaders must be partners in crafting policies that nurture educationally effectiveand responsible AI use.

As I reflect on this development, I am struck by the immensity of the challenge before us. It is not just about adapting to a new tool; it is about redefining the very foundations of how we teach and learn. It is about finding a way to harness the power of AI without sacrificing the soul of education. This is a journey that will require bold experimentation, deep collaboration, and a willingness to embrace the unknown. But it is a journey we must undertake, for the stakes are too high to ignore. The future of education hangs in the balance, and it is up to us to shape it with wisdom, courage, and a steadfast commitment to the human experience of learning.

Why doing nothing with AI is not an option

In the business of technology adoption, the prudent path often lies in inaction. Education, in particular, has a natural proclivity for sifting through the chaff of technological fads, embracing only those innovations that truly enhance learning outcomes or make educators' lives easier. This organic process of selection has served the sector well, allowing it to evolve at a measured pace without succumbing to the allure of every shiny new tool. However, the emergence of AI presents a singular challenge, one that makes doing nothing all but impossible.

The disruptive potential of AI in education cannot be overstated. For centuries, the cornerstone of our pedagogical approach has been the written word – assignments and assessments that serve as both a means of developing and gauging understanding. The AI-powered tools capable of generating human-like responses threaten to undermine this foundational element of education. Inaction in the face of this shift is not merely ill-advised; it is a recipe for curricular erosion and a potential deskilling of an entire generation. Most educators intuitively understand the threat, hence the tinge of moral panic surrounding the AI invasion of education. 

Moreover, a passive approach to AI in education risks exacerbating existing inequities. As Leon Furze, a prominent voice in the field, has vividly described, policing student use of AI tools will inevitably lead to a new digital divide. Access to these technologies, even at the seemingly modest price point of $20 per month, can serve as a significant barrier for many students. The solution lies not in restriction, but in universal training – ensuring that all students are equipped with the skills to harness AI efficiently, thus leveling the playing field.

The stakes extend beyond the classroom. Higher education and K-12 institutions that fail to adapt to the AI revolution risk further straining their already tenuous relationships with employers. In an era where the relevance of traditional education is increasingly questioned, ignoring the clear signals from the labor market is a perilous path. It leaves educational institutions vulnerable to political attacks and diminishes their ability to prepare students for the realities of the modern workforce.

The imperative, then, is clear: embrace the bots. This is not a call for wholesale abandonment of traditional pedagogy, but rather a recognition that AI must be woven into the fabric of our educational approach. Curriculum must be revised, assignments and assessments reimagined to not only incorporate but require the use of AI. Every student, regardless of background or discipline, should be exposed to and ideally proficient in leveraging these tools.

Such a transformation is no small undertaking. It demands resources, commitment, visionary leadership, and a comprehensive institutional strategy. But the alternative – a slow, painful descent into irrelevance – is far more daunting. The question is not whether education can afford to embrace AI, but whether it can afford not to. In this particular case, inaction is the riskiest action of all.

Why am I obsessed with custom bots?

Policies are meant to cover a wide range of cases, but when you're faced with a specific situation, wading through all that information can be a real pain. It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You just want to know what applies to your case, but you're forced to read through pages and pages of stuff that doesn't matter to you. No wonder people don't bother reading policies at all.

And that's where the real problem lies. When people don't read policies, they end up doing things without knowing if they're compliant or not. They hope that if they make a mistake, someone will catch it down the line. But that's a risky game to play. It's why we have all these layers of control, multiple signatures, and quality checks in place. We're trying to catch all those errors that happen when people don't follow the rules.

But what if we could flip the script? What if we could make it easy for people to find the information they need, when they need it? That's where AI-powered bots come in. These bots can bridge the gap between broad policies and specific cases. They can take a person's situation, analyze the relevant policies, and give them the exact information they need to move forward.

Imagine how much time and effort that could save. No more reading through endless pages of policies, no more guesswork, no more hoping you got it right. Just clear, concise guidance that helps you get things done quickly and correctly.

And here's the kicker: if everyone used these bots and followed the policies correctly, we could start to relax some of those strict controls. We wouldn't need as many signatures, as many quality checks, as many layers of oversight. We could trust that people are doing things the right way, because they have the tools to do so.

That's the power of AI-powered bots. They can help us move from a culture of control to a culture of empowerment. They can give people the information they need to make good decisions, without bogging them down in unnecessary details.

Of course, it's not a silver bullet. We'll still need policies, and we'll still need some level of oversight. But AI-powered bots can help us strike a better balance. They can help us create a system that's more efficient, more effective, and more user-friendly.

So if you're struggling with the gap between policies and specific cases, it's time to start exploring AI-powered bots. They might just be the key to unlocking a better way of working. And if you need help getting started, well, that's what people like me are here for. Let's work together to build something that makes a real difference.

Curb your enthusiasm

Do we learn how to use the current versions of AI, or wait for them to get much better very soon? The excitement around AI's exponential growth mirrors a pattern we've seen with other technologies: a burst of initial progress followed by the hard reality of limitations. History offers lessons from nuclear fusion to space exploration, where initial optimism ran into practical and technological barriers.

Nuclear fusion, which began its journey as a promising energy solution in the 1950s, has yet to deliver on its promise of endless clean energy. The technical and financial challenges have proven to be more complex and enduring than anticipated. Similarly, space exploration, once thought to usher in an era of human settlement in outer space, has been tempered by the harsh realities of cost, distance, and survival in a hostile environment.

As AI technologies, particularly generative AI like ChatGPT, race ahead, they too may face significant hurdles. The rapid development and deployment of these technologies have revealed challenges, notably the increasing demand for computing power. This situation is exacerbated by the competitive push from tech giants like Google and Meta, highlighting the difficulty of sustaining rapid advancement.

One potential game-changer on the horizon is quantum computing. This emerging field promises to revolutionize computing power, potentially overcoming current limitations in a way we can barely imagine. The impact of quantum computing on AI could be profound, offering solutions to problems that are currently intractable and opening new avenues for advancement.

Yet, even with quantum computing, it's wise to temper our expectations, at least until practical and cheap quantum computers become a reality. Each technological leap brings its own set of challenges and unknowns. Rather than waiting for miraculous breakthroughs, a more pragmatic approach is to focus on optimizing current AI technologies. Understanding and working within their limitations can lead to significant improvements and applications that are both practical and impactful now.

This approach doesn't mean halting innovation but rather balancing the pursuit of new technologies with the efficient exploitation of existing ones. By learning from the past and being mindful of the inherent challenges in technological progress, we can navigate the complexities of innovation more effectively. Quantum computing may indeed provide the next significant leap, but until then, making the most of current AI capabilities is both a wise and necessary strategy.

The Advising Bot Dilemma

In educational organizations, the integration of AI, particularly through automated advising tools like chatbots, embodies a strategic advancement yet introduces a complex dilemma. These digital advisors, designed to navigate queries ranging from academic programs to student services, highlight a pivotal choice between precision and broad utility.

At one pole, AI bots can be meticulously engineered to handle vaguely formulated inquiries, but only providing correct answers manually curated by humans. This approach, while ensuring a high level of fidelity, is marked by a slow and expensive development process. For entities with vast knowledge bases or intricate operations, the manual input required could significantly dilute the efficiency gains such tools promise to deliver.

Conversely, AI advisors programmed for wider application operate by not only interpreting queries, but also sourcing answers from a pre-existing repository of documents and websites. This method, though expedient, compromises on accuracy, a drawback that becomes more pronounced within the context of large and diverse information repositories.

A balanced strategy proposes the coexistence of both high and low-fidelity bots within the educational sphere. Low-fidelity bots offer an expedient first layer of support, adept at managing basic inquiries through triage advising. Tailoring these bots to specific domains and incorporating clear disclaimers could mitigate the risk of misinformation, directing students towards accurate resources while alleviating the administrative burden on staff.

For situations where accuracy is paramount, a semi-automatic model emerges as a superior alternative, at least for now. This model envisions a symbiotic relationship between AI systems and human advisors, with AI proposing potential responses and the advisor ensuring their validity. Such a configuration enhances efficiency without compromising the integrity of the advice provided.

AI imperfections sometimes may be tolerated. AI adoption required a pragmatic cost-benefit analysis. The evaluation hinges on whether the operational efficiencies gained through deploying lower-fidelity systems justify the associated risks. We must compare them not to very expensive and very reliable alternative, but to not getting any advicу at all, or receiving it from roommates and random sources. The decision on whether to limit these systems to straightforward queries or to implement them within defined subject areas requires careful consideration.

Addressing these trade-offs is crucial for harnessing AI's potential in educational settings. This nuanced approach, advocating for a judicious blend of high and low-fidelity advising tools, underscores the importance of strategic planning in AI deployment. It offers a pathway to leverage technological advancements, ensuring they complement rather than complicate the educational mission.

The tiny tools issue

The world of AI implementation has three tiers. At the base are user-friendly, ready-to-use AI tools – the digital world's equivalent of instant coffee: one can simply go to a chatbot and do your thing. Ascending a level, there is the realm of tiny tools like APIs, a middle ground easily accessible to coders but mystifying to the layperson. The apex of this hierarchy is reserved for integrated, complex AI solutions – the grand orchestras of technology, both sophisticated and costly.

The drama in AI implementation, however, is not rooted in the existence of these tiers, but in their portrayal and accessibility. Providers, often driven by material interests, tend to downplay the simplicity and adequacy of the lower tiers. This misrepresentation is not just about pushing expensive solutions; it is a deeper issue of monopolizing knowledge and perpetuating power imbalances. Of course, if one knows how to do something that others do not, they want to make themselves look more essential, so they can sell their expertise.

The key takeaway here is to be a discerning consumer. Before opting for an expensive, integrated solution, consider first if one can do it themselves, and if not, if a tiny tool would suffice. Perhaps a computer science student could craft a solution efficiently and affordably. Or there might be a vendor that sells just the tiny tool needed. This approach is not just about saving resources; it is about maintaining control in an increasingly technology-driven world. Surrendering to high-end solutions can lead to a loss of autonomy, difficult to reclaim once given up.

When faced with AI implementation decisions, balance is crucial. It is essential to recognize where one's needs fit within this spectrum and make choices that harmonize practicality, cost, and control. The most effective tool at our disposal is not always the most complex or expensive one, but often our own critical thinking. By understanding the nuances of these AI tiers, we can make informed decisions that preserve our technological independence and prevent being unwittingly upsold solutions that far exceed our actual needs.