
A participant from a 2018 complexity workshop I ran in The Hague, reflecting on an experience.
From a piece in The Walrus by Troy Jollimore, a philosophy professor, on his evolving relationship to students, AI and education:
The use of AI already seems so natural to so many of them, so much an inevitability and an accepted feature of the educational landscape, that any prohibition strikes them as nonsensical. Don’t we instructors understand that today’s students will be able, will indeed be expected, to use AI when they enter the workforce? Writing is no longer something people will have to do in order to get a job.
Or so, at any rate, a number of them have told me. Which is why, they argue, forcing them to write in college makes no sense. That mystified look does not vanish—indeed, it sometimes intensifies—when I respond by saying: Look, even if that were true, you have to understand that I don’t equate education with job training.
What do you mean? they might then ask.
And I say: I’m not really concerned with your future job. I want to prepare you for life.
It turns out that if there is anything more implausible than the idea that they might need to write as part of their jobs, it is the idea that they might have to write, or want to write, in some part of their lives other than their jobs. Or, more generally, the idea that education might be valuable not because it gets you a bigger paycheque but because, in a fundamental way, it gives you access to a more rewarding life.
Last night I was sitting with my dear friend and colleague Phil Cass and we were drinking a little bourbon and discussing our week of work together and our lives and interests. Our conversations always wander over all manner of territory. Last night, before we retired to sleep, it rested on David Foster Wallace’s well known Kenyon College commencement address called “This is Water.” it compliments Jollimore’s piece beautifully, even though it precedes it by 20 years.
If you have a half an hour, dive into these two links. In response I’m curious to know what are you thinking about? What are you writing about, even if you aren’t publishing your writing? Whose perspectives are you trying to understand?
Thanks so much for this, Chris, and for the introduction to Troy’s work. It raised a bunch of deep and fascinating questions for me about the nature of learning, that I posed here (https://howtosavetheworld.ca/images/How-We-Learn-_-how-to-save-the-world.pdf) as a kind of draft ‘response’ and invitation. I will probably post it as an article on my blog next week, but would love any thoughts you or your readers might have before I do so.
Also, of course, DFW’s famous speech is wonderful, in case anyone hasn’t discovered it yet.
Cheers Dave!
On learning by rehearsing, no one is more inspiring to me than Mark O Sullivan. https://footblogball.wordpress.com
On extrinsic reward I am reminded of an old viral post of mine based on reflections on Alfie Kohn’s work on homework and rewards: https://www.chriscorrigan.com/parkinglot/a-call-for-the-great-canadian-homework-ban/