One of the the unintentional consequences of being an op-ed writer is that one becomes a historian of sorts. Opinions, after all, are generally formed by the news of the day, so it follows that such writings capture the essence of current events in real-time.
It has been my experience, however, that as much as education has always been an ever shifting landscape of ideas, the general form of the thing has remained stubbornly consistent over the years. Many policies and initiatives that are branded as “new and exciting” are, at their heart, simply “old and repackaged”. Even in this modern era of innovation, it has traditionally been rare to find a development that is, with any rapidity at least, fundamentally impacting the nature of the classroom.
Then along came Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) and all that went out the window.
For a bit of context, A.I. can trace its earliest development back to 1956, when a group of scientists presented a computer program called Logic Theorist at The Dartmouth Summer Research Project on Artificial Intelligence. Over the next few decades, research continued in the field, with developments surfacing from time to time that generated international headlines (Many may recall the 1997 defeat of world chess champion Garry Kasparov at the hands of an IBM computer program). Here in 2024, the technology is pervasive. From banks to automobiles, from social media platforms to shopping apps, A.I. is, quite literally, everywhere.
It should have come as no surprise, then, that once A.I. developers turned their minds to educational applications, things would move quickly. Indeed, the seminal moment for classroom teachers occured only a little over a year ago when Open AI launched something it called ChatGPT, a computer based language program designed for “natural language processing”. ChatGPT can engage in actual conversations with the user and perform tasks like text completion and translation. It can also be used for creative writing and content generation; content that sounds remarkably human.
When I wrote my first piece on the subject in January of last year, few educators I encountered had even heard about ChatGPT, let alone experienced its use in classrooms. Now, a little more than 365 days later, very few classroom assignments are not being prefaced with the teacher warning of, “If you use ChatGPT, I will know!”
It may be that very rapidity of infiltration that has prevented any meaningful development of policy or even guidelines to help teachers deal with the use of A.I. by students. Certainly, some jurisdictions have been much quicker in their attempts to put the genie back in the bottle than others. Almost immediately after Open AI launched ChatGPT, New York banned its use in public schools; a predictably ineffective effort that was halted within months of inception. In most districts, however, policy makers seem quite content to let individual schools, or indeed, individual classroom teachers, deal with the issue.
Here in Nova Scotia, educational policies for A.I. have been slow to develop outside of the post secondary system. Even there, most seem couched in language that echos a plea for compliance rather than a directive to desist. Dalhousie University’s Center for Online Learning and Teaching, for example, speaks about the opportunity to discuss the morality of academic integrity with students and to redefine the definition of plagiarism as opposed to addressing suspected use. St. F.X. University suggests faculty “encourage” students to not use A.I., and advises assignments might be refocused to emphasize process rather than product. St. Mary’s University finds an interesting middle ground, declaring that the use of A.I. violates the school’s plagiarism policy, but also allowing that students may use these tools, so long as they have the permission of their professor.
These policies are all understood to be fluid and developing, so few conclusions can be drawn from the current wording. Perhaps that is why, when it comes to the use of Artificial Intelligence and academic integrity in our public schools, Nova Scotia’s DoEECD has been relatively silent. Although work on such things is always ongoing, the Provincial Code of Conduct does not currently include any reference to A.I. The code does refer to Provincial School Network Access and Use Policy, (last updated in 2016) which, to its credit, does speak to using the public school network in a responsible and ethical manner.
Yet therein lies the rub for classroom teachers. Although certainly wishing to uphold the ideals of academic integrity, there is little in the way of support for that stance in our current provincial documentation. Furthermore, what constitutes the “responsible and ethical” use of technology is a matter of fierce debate. Should students not be given access to all the tools at their disposal in order to be successful? What does that success look like? What about equality of access? Is academic integrity an archaic notion destined to be shelved alongside the slide rule, the abacus and the Commodore 64?
That conclusion may be a bit hyperbolic, but the challenge of A.I. is quite real for many teachers, as is the difference of opinion on the appropriateness of its use. As the technological tools available to our students become more common, their capacity to use these tools (and the acceptance of this use as a simple matter of course) will increase. As A.I. becomes more sophisticated, teacher capacity to determine original student work from that which is artificially generated will undoubtedly diminish accordingly.
I tend to be an optimist by nature, and I have an unwavering faith in the teaching profession’s capacity to adapt. I am also of a generation that remembers the introduction of many other landscape altering innovations ranging from chromebooks to cellphones to desktop calculators. Each of these were disruptors in their own way, challenging everything we thought we knew about the classroom and how kids should learn.
Still, this feels different. The pace at which A.I. is making inroads into our classrooms, and the level to which we were unprepared for the onslaught, set this particular moment in educational history apart.
It will be interesting, at this pace, to see where we will be on the topic in another 365 days.
(An edited version of this article appeared in The CHronicle Herald, January 25th, 2024)
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