James D. Walsh at New York Intelligencer writes a deeply researched article on how students at “large state schools, the Ivies, liberal-arts schools in New England, universities abroad, professional schools, and community colleges” … “are relying on AI to ease their way through every facet of their education…. take their notes during class, devise their study guides and practice tests, summarize novels and textbooks, and brainstorm, outline, and draft their essays. STEM students are using AI to automate their research and data analyses and to sail through dense coding and debugging assignments. ‘College is just how well I can use ChatGPT at this point,’ [said a Utah student].”

If you cheat your way through college, are you cheating yourself? Robbing yourself of the education you’re paying tens of thousands of years for? Or is college just a gate you pass through to get to a higher-paying job and higher social status?

[Troy Jollimore, a poet, philosopher, and Cal State Chico ethics professor,] who has been teaching writing for more than two decades, is now convinced that the humanities, and writing in particular, are quickly becoming an anachronistic art elective like basket-weaving. “Every time I talk to a colleague about this, the same thing comes up: retirement. When can I retire? When can I get out of this? That’s what we’re all thinking now,” he said. “This is not what we signed up for.” Williams, and other educators I spoke to, described AI’s takeover as a full-blown existential crisis. “The students kind of recognize that the system is broken and that there’s not really a point in doing this. Maybe the original meaning of these assignments has been lost or is not being communicated to them well.”

He worries about the long-term consequences of passively allowing 18-year-olds to decide whether to actively engage with their assignments. Would it accelerate the widening soft-skills gap in the workplace? If students rely on AI for their education, what skills would they even bring to the workplace? Lakshya Jain, a computer-science lecturer at the University of California, Berkeley, has been using those questions in an attempt to reason with his students. “If you’re handing in AI work,” he tells them, “you’re not actually anything different than a human assistant to an artificial-intelligence engine, and that makes you very easily replaceable. Why would anyone keep you around?” That’s not theoretical: The COO of a tech research firm recently asked Jain why he needed programmers any longer.

(Emphasis added by me.)

GenAI is a great assistant but if using GenAI is your only skill, why would anyone hire you?

GenAI is like Microsoft Office: It’s a tool. Everybody who works at a desk job nowadays needs to know how to use Office or its Google equivalent, but if using Office is all you know how to do, then you have no job skills.

The ideal of college as a place of intellectual growth, where students engage with deep, profound ideas, was gone long before ChatGPT. The combination of high costs and a winner-takes-all economy had already made it feel transactional, a means to an end. (In a recent survey, Deloitte found that just over half of college graduates believe their education was worth the tens of thousands of dollars it costs a year, compared with 76 percent of trade-school graduates.) In a way, the speed and ease with which AI proved itself able to do college-level work simply exposed the rot at the core. “How can we expect them to grasp what education means when we, as educators, haven’t begun to undo the years of cognitive and spiritual damage inflicted by a society that treats schooling as a means to a high-paying job, maybe some social status, but nothing more?” Jollimore wrote in a recent essay. “Or, worse, to see it as bearing no value at all, as if it were a kind of confidence trick, an elaborate sham?”

The article features Chungin “Roy” Lee, a twenty-something AI entrepreneur who has built tools — and businesses based on them — to enable people to use AI to cheat at college, on job interviews and even on dates.

“Every technological innovation has caused humanity to sit back and think about what work is actually useful,” [Lee] said. “There might have been people complaining about machinery replacing blacksmiths in, like, the 1600s or 1800s, but now it’s just accepted that it’s useless to learn how to blacksmith.”

If writing is going to be obsolete, like basket-weaving and blacksmithing, then so be it. I don’t worry about it. I write to set my thoughts in order, and I don’t anticipate stopping that.

As for work: If writing ceases to become a marketable skill … well, I’ll figure something out. “I’ll figure something out” has been a theme of my career.