When the scanning of documents into an answer-spitting technology took precedence over research through articled sources, a fundamental shift in education occurred. Not just why students do work, but how they do it.
School was always about learning—emphasis on was. Now it prioritizes grades, GPAs, class ranks, AP courses and curriculum statistics. What matters is not what you have learned, but how high you can score to “prove” you’ve learned it.
It is no shock that students have turned to artificial intelligence (A.I.) to complete assignments. College admissions have become more selective than ever, and the pressure on kids to secure a spot at a university has intensified. The significant stress on students to perform well has led them to seek out generative A.I. tools, such as OpenAI‘s ChatGPT and Google Gemini, to help them succeed.
Educators attempt to alleviate artificial intelligence use by implementing A.I. detectors and threats of academic repercussions if students are caught using such resources to complete their assignments. Unfortunately, it’s like guarding a door in a wall-less room. The problem is not the action, it’s the structure.
Even I have fallen victim to using artificial intelligence.
If something can be done more efficiently, people are going to take the opportunity to do so. However, failure and effort need to be normalized again. Students should not be scared to get a bad grade on their assignment because they do not understand a concept, they should be aided. The prioritization of grades over effort needs to be where the change begins.
Every time I write—whether it’s a class paper, an article for the school newspaper, a discussion post response, or even this article—I check my writing with an artificial intelligence detector. Despite my lack of direct use, many students like I fear that our work will be wrongfully flagged as A.I. by detectors. The repercussions of being caught, even if it’s a false detection, can threaten student’s future schooling, careers and more. This danger is also a challenge to one’s legitimacy; not just as a writer, but as a person.