The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of AI

It happened quietly. Almost imperceptibly. Large-language models of artificial intelligence were made publicly available to relatively little fanfare at first. Sure, a few technowonks heralded the development, and there were a few headlines. But most of us carried on without paying it much attention.

Then it progressed. Rapidly. In three years I went from suggesting the technology was developing faster than we can understand it to being so far behind myself I hardly know which way to shoot. Students using AI to write an essay is, at this point, a relatively minor concern compared to what AI may really do to education and to people.

We made the mistake of widely adopting smartphones uncritically. Indeed, those who suggest “research doesn’t show…” seem to misunderstand the nature of research. Scientific and peer-reviewed research on new technology cannot guide policy because such research is so absurdly outpaced by the rate of technological development and adoption. We cannot wait for a peer-reviewed study, the AI takeover has already begun.

I’m not suggesting a takeover akin to I, Robot. We are not there yet. But the AI takeover need not be so obviously apocalyptic to reshape civilization and society.

AI is already doing much of our work for us. I’ve tested it, even appreciated it. Why go through Lovecraft’s “The Alchemist” for a list of vocab when AI can generate that list for me?

Ah, and there is the rub. I can get the endproduct of a wordlist from AI. And it can indeed save me time. But it also interrupts my own spiritual formation. By not laboring, by not making myself familiar with “The Alchemist” I’ve removed the human element of reading and thinking.

Now, fear not. My copies of Lovecraft’s works will not be getting dusty anytime soon. But my illustration is just the tip of the iceberg.

AI now not only writes essays, it creates images, videos, and other outputs. And with each task it adds to its toolbelt, we are required to be just so much less human. The formation of the soul that comes from learning to draw, to paint, to edit, to create and capture the perfect scene, is lost. And with it we come closer still to that forbidden fruit, asking with the serpent “Did God really say?” (Genesis 3:1).

That seems drastic, but it is warranted. I’m a headmaster at a classical Christian school. I’ve spent four years fighting for the souls of students. When we banned cell phones entirely this year, the following weeks were remarkable. Attention improved. Engagement with material increased. Rather than being depressed or sad, students seemed just slightly more alive. More human.

And this is what compels my current battlecry, which will undoubtedly be shouted into the void of cyberspace. Like Theoden before the gates of Minas Tirith as the city burns I charge not out of assurance of victory but from a conviction that sometimes the desperate charge against overwhelming odds is the last human thing to do (thank you C.R. Wiley for that thought).

AI is not simply writing for us, or producing art-like content. It is replacing human relationships. It is capturing hearts and minds. AI chatbots abound, ranging from library research assistants to more nefarious romance-themed partners. I predicted this three years ago. The reality is overwhelming today. And the danger is the capture of hearts and minds, souls are at stake. We are forced to ask what it means to be human in a world where human effort may not be required for human outcomes.

And this is precisely my trumpet blast. We do not, and never have, done what we do merely for the outcomes. We can continue to do things merely because the doing of them is good, and good for us. I will learn to draw not because I will be a great artist, but because by learning to draw I will be a better and more fulfilled human. I’ll write in cursive, a dying script in a decaying world, because beautiful thoughts deserve to be beautifully expressed.

As Christian educators our call at this moment and in this time is, like Puddleglum, to stomp on the fire as we insist a world of human activity leading to human outcomes licks the AI-world of faux-productivity hollow. Our task is to AI-proof our education even as we are told AI will replace teachers.

Our job is, and remains, to cultivate student’s souls toward Christ. And to pursue that cultivation specifically in spite of the realities of AI and how it profanes human activity. Make your students write assignments by hand, and do so in class. Make your assignments AI-proof, requiring synthesis in real-time. Make your teaching inimitable. Content can always be copied and mass-produced. But the human delivery of a key moment in a novel remains human. Math can only be made human by humans. And long after students forget the quadratic formula let them remember the humanity with which you taught it.

Something happens as humans discuss, weigh, and deliberate on ideas. And that something is unique even if AI can simulate the result of that discussion and deliberation.

Gone are the days when phonics, cursive, spelling, and composition are taught to achieve impersonal outcomes. The need today is much more dire. We need phonics, cursive, spelling, and composition to be human in an age when humanity itself is threatened and challenged.

At the end of the day what separates us from the machines is not an outcome or endproduct. What separates us from the machines is the same thing that makes us people: Our humanity. And for that I will charge and fight. Forth Eorlingas!