
We recently established an online journal to provide young people with a platform for submitting well-researched papers. Conceived as an educational initiative, the journal aims to cultivate imagination and intellectual discipline through academic writing. The ability to articulate ideas in written form remains one of the highest modes of intellectual exchange. Indeed, written language has historically shaped—and at times dismantled—entire civilizations.
At the outset, the quality and rigor of submissions were modest. This was not problematic, since the journal’s primary purpose was pedagogical rather than evaluative. More recently, however, we have observed a marked improvement in the sophistication of submissions, often approaching the standard of professional writers. This development, largely attributable to the use of artificial intelligence, has raised fundamental questions about the journal’s role. If the objective is to foster critical thinking through writing, what is achieved when participants rely on AI? Does the exercise merely cultivate proficiency in prompt engineering? And if so, does the journal remain necessary? These questions point to a broader inquiry: what does AI signify for the future of education? Do we really need to change everything due to Ai?
The Betrayal of Technology
The French sociologist Jacques Ellul argued that technology, once expected to liberate us, has instead betrayed us. While it may solve certain problems, it simultaneously creates new sets of challenges and dependencies. In modern society, efficiency has become one of the highest virtue, and anything that enhances it is prioritized. We have become a very “task-based” species, often forgetting the purpose. As a result, human rhythms have been displaced by technological ones, demanding our subservience and leading to a subtle dehumanization of the user. Technology now operates as an autonomous force, shaping culture, politics, and morality in ways beyond our control.
Consider the mobile phone: designed to improve communication, it now demands perpetual connectivity, eroding the user’s freedom. Smartphones intensify this dynamic, fostering compulsive scrolling and social media engagement driven by algorithms that entrench dependence. What was meant to empower us has instead reshaped our lives around its own rules. This issue is crucial in educating the next generation. How do we manage technology so that we remain its masters rather than become its servants?
Understanding Change and Continuity
Is everything subject to change? Philosophers and educators have long reflected on the impermanence of social norms and intellectual practices. However, Hesiod, writing in the 8th century BCE, lamented: “I see no hope for the future of our people if they are dependent on the frivolous youth of today, for certainly all youth are reckless beyond words.” His critique still resonates, suggesting that generational anxieties about decline and transformation are perennial – some things simple do not change.
Are today’s youths truly different from those of the past? Perhaps—but do we give this difference too much weight? Many changes may lie more in expression than in essence. Socrates attracted young followers because he challenged authority and social norms, exuded charisma, and radiated wisdom. These qualities inspired youth seeking answers. Have the characteristics that moved the youth of Athens more than 2,000 years ago really different with the youth of today? Today’s youth are driven by similar anxieties and aspirations. The question, then, is not whether change occurs, but how these concerns are manifested through the lived experience. Education do change – but must learning itself change with time?
Expertise and the Paradox of Overthinking
Expertise may be defined as the ability to access and apply knowledge fluidly, without conscious deliberation. Malcolm Gladwell, in Outliers, argues that expertise requires approximately 10,000 hours of practice, after which performance becomes instinctive. In What the Dog Saw, Gladwell recounts Jana Novotná’s collapse during the Wimbledon final against Steffi Graf. Leading 4–1, Novotná suddenly faltered, losing five consecutive games. Gladwell attributes this to “choking”—a shift from instinctive execution to excessive conscious thought. At that moment, Novotná reverted from expert to novice, illustrating the fragility of expertise when instinct is supplanted by over-analysis.
Modes of Learning
Gladwell also cites Daniel Willingham, a cognitive psychologist, who distinguishes between implicit learning—unconscious acquisition of patterns, as in riding a bicycle—and explicit learning, which involves conscious, effortful hypothesis testing, as in scientific experimentation. Both modes contribute to knowledge formation. Even in abstract disciplines such as mathematics, expertise is cultivated through sustained practice.
The idea that learning extends beyond theoretical knowledge is not new. Phronesis, an ancient Greek term meaning “practical wisdom,” was defined by Aristotle as the ability to discern the best course of action in complex situations. It is derived from experience and aims at achieving virtuous outcomes by focusing on acting rightly, rather than merely knowing what is right— distinctly different from episteme, or theoretical knowledge.
This raises a critical question: can self-directed learning be outsourced to AI? While AI can perform tasks and facilitate knowledge acquisition, it does not necessarily foster skill development. Mathematics, for example, demands both knowledge and skill, with the latter requiring repeated practice. Memory, whether implicit or explicit, remains indispensable for human understanding, despite claims that technology has diminished its importance.
A Cosmological Metaphor for Knowledge
Learning may be conceptualized through a cosmological metaphor. The individual is the center of perception, akin to the Sun at the center of the solar system. Information constitutes the surrounding objects such as the planets which are nodes accumulated through study which forms information. Knowledge emerges from the ability to connect these nodes, forming a web of relationships. Thus, knowledge is formed when we connect this information together to makes sense. The robustness of this web depends both on the number of nodes and the density of connections. Similarly, the brain learns by forming new connections between neurons. Since nodes are grounded in memory, memory remains essential to the construction of knowledge. It cannot be fully outsourced to machines, particularly when implicit learning is involved. The evolutionary structure and ‘workings’ of the brain has not changed significantly since the first Homo sapiens.
So, for example, we may now ask, is writing merely a collection of words—or a manifestation of the brain’s workings on paper?
The Enduring Value of Writing
Marcus Aurelius, emperor of the Rome, maintained a personal journal of reflections never intended for publication. His followers later compiled and published it as Meditations. These writings reveal the inner life of one of history’s most powerful figures. Journaling serves as a record of experience and thought, reinforcing memory, forming connections and enabling self-discovery. For Marcus Aurelius, writing helped make sense of the world and guided decision-making. Writing thus functions not merely as communication but as reflection, moral development, and the avoidance of repeated error.
The Evolution of Education
Historically, education was spiritual in orientation, often centered in places like monasteries, seminaries, and madrasahs – before evolving into schools and universities. Its purpose was self-actualization. With the Industrial Revolution, education shifted toward material concerns, emphasizing efficiency and external knowledge. This transition reflected a broader philosophical movement from Idealism, which locates reality in the mind and spirit, to Materialism, which grounds reality in physical processes. Work evolved accordingly: horses gave way to automobiles; weaving to machine operation. Technology increasingly replaced or augmented human functions. Efficiency became one of its prime movers.
In survey research, for instance, designing questionnaires requires skill and is often valued more highly than conducting interviews. Yet if AI can design superior surveys, the relative value of intellectual skill becomes uncertain. But this raises a deeper question: is the purpose of designing a questionnaire merely to help participants answer the questions, or does it also help the researcher better understand the nature of her inquiry? The first objective could be assisted by AI, but the second—developing insight through the act of design— would remain elusive.
These developments also highlight pressing questions about how human expertise will be valued in the future, especially when technology can replicate or surpass certain intellectual tasks but may not cultivate the reflective understanding that comes from human practice.
Toward a Full Circle
With the rapid rise of technologies such as AI, it is conceivable that learning may return to its original purpose: self-actualization. AI can explain machines or compose essays, but can it facilitate self-understanding? Might future universities emphasize introspection and personal growth to remain relevant? Science is the study of nature. By understanding the environment around us, can we also understand ourselves? The material world is in constant flux, and AI may open new domains of discovery. Yet the deeper challenge lies in situating ourselves within this new universe. Returning to the earlier metaphor: if information is the nodes, knowledge is the connections, then wisdom is the discernment of which connections to make, when to employ them, and when to refrain. Will education move toward the pursuit of wisdom? Should schools be not only places where things are thought but where skills are trained? Should we begin setting boundaries to safeguard learning as a path to self-actualization and discovery?
Conclusion: The Courage to Learn and Set Boundaries
The imperative to learn remains a defining human trait. We must continue to write, even if AI produces superior essays. We must continue to create, even if AI demonstrates greater efficiency. The purpose of education may need to shift—from understanding the external world towards understanding the internal self. To this end, we must teach young people to set boundaries: when and how to use technology for this purpose, and when to refrain.
Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World portrays a society perfected by technology yet diminished in human dignity. In a modern echo, the animated series Rick and Morty declares: “Your boos mean nothing; I’ve seen what makes you cheer.” True courage lies in acting from knowledge which is guided by wisdom and not from external validation. Perhaps, this should become the new norm of learning, that of self-discovery — a journey each individual must undertake with resolve and independence – and on her own.
Welcome to the Brave New World!

.jpg)




