Safeguarding the Soul of Education

It seems as though so many companies are peddling AI as an efficiency tool in education. It’s almost as though the push for efficiency is shrouding what truly matters in the classroom. Teachers should be planning lessons, engaging with their students, and having the autonomy to shape their teaching methods. Teaching is a craft, one that’s honed through trial, reflection, and connection.

At its heart, teaching isn’t just about delivering content; it’s about building relationships, nurturing curiosity, and inspiring confidence. These are not tasks that can be delegated to an algorithm or a piece of software. Pupils need an educator who believes in them, who sees their potential, and who takes the time to tailor their approach to meet individual needs.

So, why are so many companies—and even some teachers—so quick to hand over the reins to AI? Perhaps part of the answer lies in the realities teachers face today: overstretched workloads, limited resources, and mounting pressures to meet ever-growing demands. AI often comes packaged as a lifeline—a tool that promises to simplify, expedite, and ease the burden. But in buying into this promise, are we inadvertently undermining our craft? Rather than critically engaging with AI as a powerful but imperfect tool, are we settling for its role as a generic content producer, stripped of nuance and creativity?

And even beyond the technology itself, we need to ask: how much value do the individuals driving this AI revolution actually add to the learning and teaching experience? How many of these tools and approaches are truly pedagogically sound? Are the solutions they propose grounded in a deep understanding of what education requires, or are they simply chasing market trends with little regard for long-term impact? These questions are crucial if we are to protect the integrity of teaching.

AI might be able to grade a test or organise data, but it can’t truly understand a child’s struggles, nor can it offer the encouragement or nuance that a teacher brings to the classroom. And while efficiency is all well and good, education is about more than ticking boxes or optimising schedules. It’s about shaping individuals, fostering resilience, and preparing pupils for a world that demands empathy and creativity—qualities that no AI can emulate.

Instead of viewing AI as a replacement or a shortcut, we should be seeing it as a tool—one that supports teachers, rather than undermines them. This means asking hard questions about its limitations and implications. How can AI help us without diminishing the human connection that underpins effective education? How can we use it to enhance, rather than replace, critical aspects of our role?

We’re at a crossroads in education, and I hope we choose the path that values the teacher’s role as a mentor and craftsman, rather than one that relegates them to overseers of technology. Because if we lose sight of that, we risk losing something fundamental to the very fabric of education.