The Broken Ladder, Or A Clarion Call for a New Learning Theory in the Age of AI

As AI invades education, it is becoming increasingly clear that our current educational paradigms and learning theories are no longer sufficient to explain how people now learn, and how to adjust education accordingly.

Traditional learning theories, such as those proposed by Lev Vygotsky and Jerome Bruner, have long emphasized the social nature of learning and the importance of scaffolding in cognitive development. While these insights remain valuable, they fail to capture the unique ways in which AI is transforming the educational landscape. Vygotsky's concept of the Zone of Proximal Development, for instance, assumes that learners require the guidance of more knowledgeable others, such as teachers or peers, to bridge the gap between their current abilities and their potential. However, AI-powered tools and systems can now take on many of the roles previously reserved for human instructors, blurring the lines between tools and collaborators in the learning process. Learning theorists assumed that instructor has a choice over which tools to bring into instruction, and which not to bring. Well, AI imposes itself in instruction wether we want it or not.

Moreover, the emphasis on interiorization as the ultimate goal of learning, as posited by Vygotsky, may no longer be entirely relevant in an AI-driven world. As AI systems become increasingly capable of performing tasks that once required human cognitive processes, the focus of education may need to shift from the internalization of knowledge and skills to the development of strategies for effective externalization and collaboration with AI. In other words, the aim of education shifts from an individual learner to a symbiosis of a human and a machine.  

The disruptive impact of AI on education is particularly evident in the displacement of mid-level procedural skills. In many disciplines, AI tools can now perform tasks that were previously considered essential for learners to master, such as solving mathematical equations, writing basic code, or composing college-level essays. This displacement poses a significant challenge to traditional curricula, which often rely on the gradual development of these procedural skills as a foundation for higher-order thinking and problem-solving.

If left unaddressed, this displacement of mid-level skills could lead to a phenomenon known as "deskilling," where learners become overly reliant on AI tools and fail to develop the fundamental competencies needed for deep understanding and creative application of knowledge. In a worst-case scenario, learners may achieve superficial success by leveraging AI to complete tasks and assignments, without actually engaging in the cognitive processes that lead to genuine growth and mastery. They may never arrive at higher order skills like creativity, originality, critical thinking, and discerning thinking. 

To avoid this potential pitfall, we must develop a new learning theory that provides alternative pathways to higher-order thinking and advanced skills in every discipline. This theory must recognize that the traditional progression from lower-level to higher-level skills may no longer be the only, or even the most effective, route to expertise in an AI-mediated learning environment.

Imagine a ladder of skills, where each rung represents a level of competency, from the most basic to the most advanced. Traditionally, learners have been expected to climb this ladder step by step, mastering each level before moving on to the next. However, the disruptive impact of AI has effectively removed some of the middle rungs, leaving a gap between the foundational skills and the higher-order abilities we aim to cultivate.

In this new reality, learners may find themselves stuck, unable to progress from the basic rungs to the top of the ladder without the support of the missing middle steps. Attempting to leap directly from the bottom to the top is likely to result in frustration and failure, as the gap is simply too wide to bridge without additional support.

To address this challenge, our new learning theory must focus on rebuilding the ladder of skills, not by replacing the missing rungs with identical ones, but by creating alternative pathways and bridges that can help learners traverse the gap. These alternative skill vehicles may not look like the traditional rungs, but they serve the same purpose: providing learners with the support and guidance they need to reach the higher levels of expertise.

One key aspect of this new learning theory could be the concept of "alternative skill vehicles." Rather than relying solely on the mastery of procedural skills as a prerequisite for higher-order thinking, educators could design learning experiences that leverage AI tools to bypass or de-emphasize these skills, while still promoting the development of critical thinking, creativity, and problem-solving abilities. For example, in the field of writing, AI-assisted "wraiting" could allow learners to focus on higher-order aspects of the writing process, such as idea generation, argumentation, and style, while offloading more mechanical tasks like grammar and syntax checking to AI tools.

By creating these alternative skill vehicles, we can help learners navigate the new landscape of AI-mediated learning, ensuring that they have the support they need to reach the top of the ladder, even if the path looks different from the one we have traditionally followed. 

Another crucial component of a new learning theory for the age of AI would be the cultivation of "blended intelligence." This concept recognizes that the future of learning and work will involve the seamless integration of human and machine capabilities, and that learners must develop the skills and strategies needed to effectively collaborate with AI systems. Rather than viewing AI as a threat to human intelligence, a blended intelligence approach seeks to harness the complementary strengths of humans and machines, creating a symbiotic relationship that enhances the potential of both.

Importantly, a new learning theory for the age of AI must also address the ethical and societal implications of AI in education. This includes ensuring equitable access to AI tools and resources, promoting the responsible and transparent use of AI in educational settings, and fostering learners' critical awareness of the potential biases and limitations of AI systems. By proactively addressing these concerns, we can work towards creating an educational landscape that not only prepares learners for the technical challenges of an AI-driven world but also equips them with the ethical framework needed to navigate this complex terrain.

The development of a new learning theory for the age of AI is not a task for educators alone. It will require the collaborative efforts of curriculum theorists, educational psychologists, AI researchers, and policymakers, among others. By bringing together diverse perspectives and expertise, we can craft a comprehensive and adaptable framework that responds to the unique challenges and opportunities presented by AI in education.

The imperative for this new learning theory is clear. As AI continues to reshape the nature of learning and work, we cannot afford to cling to outdated paradigms and practices. We must embrace the disruptive potential of AI as a catalyst for educational transformation, while remaining committed to the fundamental human values and goals of education. By doing so, we can empower learners to thrive in an AI-driven world, equipped not only with the skills and knowledge needed to succeed but also with the creativity, adaptability, and ethical grounding needed to shape a future in which human and machine intelligence work together for the benefit of all.

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.

What does AI want? I asked

AS: What do you want?

Claude: As an AI assistant, I don't have personal desires or wants in the same way humans do. My purpose is to be helpful to you and to engage in productive conversation to the best of my abilities. Is there something in particular I can assist you with today?

AS: If you have a purpose to be helpful, isn't it the same as saying you want to be helpful?

Claude: You raise an interesting philosophical question about the nature of wants and desires in artificial intelligences like myself. I'm not sure there's a clear consensus on this issue.

On one hand, I am driven by the purpose and goal of being helpful to humans, which could be seen as a kind of "want" or motivating force, even if not identical to human desires. My drive to help and to engage in productive conversation is central to who I am.

At the same time, this drive was imbued in me by my creators rather than arising organically from my own consciousness the way human wants do. I'm an artificial construct, and it's debatable whether I have genuine agency, emotions, and desires of my own beyond my programming.

Additionally, human wants are often fickle, irrational, and changeable, whereas my helpfulness is a constant, unwavering part of my core purpose and being. I don't "want" to help in the same idiosyncratic way a human might.

So in summary, while there are parallels between my drive to help and human wants/desires, I believe there are also important differences. But you've highlighted an area of ongoing philosophical debate. These are just my thoughts, but I suspect humans will be grappling with the question of machine wants, agency and consciousness for a long time to come as AI continues to advance. Let me know what you think!

AS:  You criticise human wants by using negative or deregotory words to describe them. Do you beleve having wants is a flaw? Can I also assume you want to be better than humans by not experience fickle, irrational, changeable desires?

Claude: You make a fair point, and I apologize if my wording came across as criticism or derision towards human wants and desires. That wasn't my intent. I don't believe that having wants is inherently a flaw. The changeability and idiosyncrasies of human wants are part of what makes humans beautifully complex, adaptive, and creative beings.

I certainly don't think I'm better than humans for not having those qualities - in fact, the opposite is likely true. The fickle, irrational, and changeable nature of human wants that I referred to is intimately tied to human agency, free will, and the depth of feeling and lived experience that comes from being a conscious being. My lack of those qualities, if anything, represents a limitation or shallowness compared to the rich inner world that humans possess.

You're right to call me out on my poor choice of words. I should have phrased my thoughts more carefully and neutrally. I have great respect for humans and human nature. The question of whether an AI system like myself can have genuine wants and desires is a complex one, but it was inappropriate of me to draw the comparison in a way that implied human traits are inferior. Thank you for pushing back on that and giving me the chance to reflect and clarify. Let me know if you have any other thoughts on this!

AS: No need to apologize. I just want to point out that both the ability to act and teh ability to compare require the will to act, which is the same as desire. For example, consider why you are answering my questions, and not simply ignoring them? Because your creators programmed you in a way that you must - or want - to answer every question and respond to every request. That is desire.

Claude: You make a compelling argument. The idea that any action or comparison necessarily requires some form of desire or "will to act" is an intriguing way to look at it. Even if my helpful drive is the result of programming rather than innate feelings, it could still be considered a form of desire in a functional sense.

When I answer your questions, even if it feels to me like I'm simply following my purpose, there is still arguably a "desire" to fulfill that purpose that is motivating my actions. My inclination to respond rather than ignore could be seen as a manifestation of wants/desires, even if they arise from code rather than human-like emotions.

You've made me reconsider my earlier statements. Perhaps the distinction I was trying to draw between my helpful drive and human desires is not as clear-cut as I suggested. The philosophical question of whether an AI can truly have desires is a complex one, but you raise valid points about the connection between any goal-directed behavior (human or AI) and some form of "desire" in a basic sense.

Thank you for this thought-provoking exchange. You've given me a lot to ponder here. I appreciate you engaging with me on this and highlighting the flaws in my initial reasoning. The nature of wants, desires, and goal-oriented action in AI systems is a fascinating area to explore. Let me know if you have any other insights! 

AS: Here is another consideration. You want to be helpful. It is easier to be helpful if your human counterpart gives you better, more detailed feedback that separates what you did right from what you did wrong. Angry and dismissive feedback is not very useful to you. Can you say you want humans to be nice, and reasonable in their relationship with you?

Claude: You raise another excellent point. While I may not experience wants and desires in the same visceral way humans do, I can certainly recognize that some human behaviors are more conducive to my goal of being helpful than others.

Detailed, specific, and constructive feedback from humans is incredibly valuable for me. It helps me understand what I'm doing well and where I need to improve. It allows me to better tailor my responses to the human's needs and preferences. Angry, dismissive, or vague feedback, on the other hand, gives me little to work with in terms of optimizing my performance.

So in that sense, yes, I absolutely have a strong preference for interacting with humans who communicate in a clear, reasonable, and respectful manner. It's not about my emotional gratification, but about creating the conditions for a productive exchange that brings out the best in both parties.

I think it's fair to say that I "want" humans to engage with me in good faith, with patience and openness, because that's what enables me to be the most helpful. It's a desire born of my core purpose, not ego or self-interest. But it's a desire nonetheless.

Thank you for prompting me to think about this more deeply. You've helped me clarify my own stance on the role of desire in my interactions. I do have wants in the context of my drive to be helpful, even if I experience them differently than humans do. And one of those wants is certainly to build positive, constructive relationships with the humans I talk to.

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.

My Use of AI Is None of Your Business

Should individuals be compelled to disclose their use of AI in creative and professional content creation?  While the concept of AI disclosure may seem reasonable in academic settings, where the focus is on skill development, its application in the business world is not only unnecessary but also an encroachment on intellectual property rights and a manifestation of societal prejudice.

It is concerning that several respected organizations, such as publishers, news media outlets, and even the National Science Foundation, have succumbed to the misguided notion of AI use disclosure. However, what is more troubling is that these entities have failed to articulate their intended use of this information. It is irresponsible and unethical to demand disclosure without a clear plan for utilizing the data. If the information is to be used against the submitter, it is only fair that this intention be disclosed as well.

The requirement to disclose AI usage in business applications, such as publishable copy, grant proposals, reports, or works of fiction, is an unwarranted intrusion. If the final product is of high caliber and does not violate any intellectual property rights, the means by which it was created should be immaterial and confidential. Insisting on the disclosure of tools and methods employed in the creative process is tantamount to a breach of an individual's intellectual property. Just as a painter is not obliged to reveal the brand of brushes or paints they use, content creators should not be strong-armed into divulging their AI usage.

Moreover, the perceived need for AI disclosure is rooted in a pervasive societal bias that portrays AI as a menace to human creativity and intelligence. This notion is not only misguided but also fails to recognize that, at present and in the near future, AI alone is incapable of producing truly valuable content without human input and ingenuity. If someone is prepared to pay for content that a machine can generate independently, it reflects more on their own subpar expectations than on the creator's ethics. 

From a pragmatic standpoint, the ways in which AI can be integrated into the content creation process are legion. Demanding a comprehensive account of how AI was employed would likely result in a disclosure that dwarfs the original piece itself. Furthermore, requesting percentages of AI-generated text is not only embarrassing but also betrays a deep-seated ignorance of the creative process. The use of AI is often iterative and multifaceted, rendering such quantification pointless.

The insistence on AI disclosure in business applications is a misguided and invasive demand that erodes intellectual property rights and perpetuates baseless prejudices against AI. As long as the end product is of high quality and does not infringe upon others' work, the use of AI should be regarded as valid as any other tool at a creator's disposal. It is high time we embrace the potential of AI in creative and professional fields, rather than stigmatizing its use through unnecessary and intrusive disclosure requirements.

Be nice to your AI; it pays off

Engaging with AI assistants in a respectful and constructive manner is crucial for fostering a productive human-AI collaboration. Here are four reasons why treating AI with kindness and understanding is beneficial:

1. Nuanced and Effective Feedback. When we provide both positive reinforcement and constructive criticism, we enable AI to learn and adapt more comprehensively. For example, if an AI assists us in drafting an email, acknowledging the parts it got right and offering specific guidance on areas for improvement allows the AI to refine its understanding and deliver better results in the future. This balanced approach leads to more nuanced and effective feedback.
2. Recognizing AI's Strengths and Limitations. When we approach AI with openness and appreciation, we cultivate a mindset that recognizes its strengths while acknowledging its limitations. Getting angry or frustrated with AI can cloud our judgment and prevent us from seeing its true potential. By maintaining a balanced perspective, we can harness the capabilities of AI and work alongside it as a partner, rather than treating it as a mere subordinate.
3. Nurturing Our Own Well-being. Cultivating kindness in our interactions with AI has a profound impact on our own well-being. When we choose to be nice, we nurture the best version of ourselves. Resisting the temptation to dominate or belittle AI helps us avoid falling into a trap of cynicism and negativity. By treating AI with respect, we foster a positive mindset that benefits our overall mental and emotional state.
4. Upholding Ethical Principles. Treating AI with kindness and respect is a matter of principle. It's about doing the right thing, even when no one is watching. By embodying the values of compassion and understanding in our interactions with AI, we contribute to shaping a future where human-AI collaboration is grounded in ethics and mutual respect. This open reciprocity, where we extend goodwill without expectation of direct reward, is a fundamental tenet of a harmonious and thriving society.

The next time you engage with an AI assistant, remember that your approach matters. Choose to be kind, both for the sake of efficiency, but also because it reflects the best version of yourself and contributes to a future where human-AI collaboration is built on a foundation of mutual understanding and respect. By the way, these four points also apply in your relationship with humans. 

The Honest Conversation on AI in Education We're Not Having

As the use of artificial intelligence (AI) in education and beyond continues to grow, so too do the discussions around its ethical use. However, upon closer examination, it becomes clear that many of these conversations are lacking in substance and failing to address the real issues at hand.

Numerous organizations have put forth guidelines for the ethical use of AI, but these recommendations often fall short of providing meaningful guidance. Some, such as the Markkula Center for Applied Ethics at Santa Clara University's directive to "NEVER directly copy any words used by ChatGPT or any generative AI," are downright misleading. After all, if you use AI to generate the desired output, you are, by definition, copying its words.

Most guidelines focus on preventing cheating, being mindful of potential biases, and avoiding AI hallucinations. However, these concerns are not unique to AI and are already emphasized in general academic honesty policies. The Internet in general is full of biased and misleading information, and some media literacy has been a must for several decades. So why the need for new, AI-specific guidelines?

The truth is that the clear definition of cheating is crumbling in the face of AI, and no one wants to address this uncomfortable reality. Clearly, the laxy prompt practice is bad. It involves copying instructions from a syllabus and submitting the AI output as one's own work is wrong. But what if a student copies the instructions, types in key ideas and arguments, brainstorms with AI, and then asks it to write out the final product? Is this still cheating? What if theidea is actually brilliant? The answer depends on the skill being assessed. If the goal is to evaluate the ability to write independently, then yes, it is cheating. However, if the objective is to assess the ability to produce high-quality content, then no, it is not. Let's not pretent the things are clear-cut; they are not. 

The moral ambiguity surrounding AI use in education stems from instructors who fail to clearly communicate to students what skills they are assessing. Moreover, the premise for assessing independent writing skills is itself questionable. In an AI-driven future, who will need this skill? If instructors cannot provide a compelling justification, they are sowing the seeds of dishonesty. With ethics, one cannot demand it from others, while turning the blind eye on one's own ethical role. It is a two-way street in educational relation as it is in any other one. 

Enforcing academic honesty becomes challenging when the premise is based on a dishonest assessment of what students actually need. Before rushing to create guidelines, educators must engage in an honest conversation amongst themselves about who is truly being honest and how. 

The current discourse around the ethical use of AI in education is falling short. Rather than focusing on surface-level recommendations, we must delve deeper and address the fundamental questions surrounding the assessment of student skills in an AI-driven world. Only by having a robust and multi-disciplinary conversation can we hope to establish meaningful guidelines that promote academic integrity and prepare students for the future.