Paper: “Redefining Educational Technology: A Critical Collaborative Inquiry”, now available via Open Praxis

screenshot of title and authorsI am fifth of 26 authors, led by the remarkable Aras Bozkurt, of a new paper,  “Redefining Educational Technology: A Critical Collaborative Inquiry,” published in Open Praxis this month.  I find myself in the company of some extremely luminous researchers from around the world, old and young, famous and less famous, who worked together on this using a collective writing methodology. In a loosely Delphi-like process, Aras started by gathering some quite detailed answers to some fairly open questions around the topic, assembled them into a draft of the paper, and then let us rip on it for a month or two, before some intensive collaborative work resolving what appeared to be hundreds (but might have just been scores) of comments involving quite rich debate and contrary opinions. The fact that we were spread across many timezones meant that, for a few weeks, there were always plenty of new changes and comments to follow every morning when I woke up and each evening at the end of a working day, and it got to be fiendishly difficult but very rewarding to follow them all. Seeing the finished paper, I’m sad it is now fixed. I still see a few places that I would like to make some small changes, so it would be super cool to be able to open it up to the broader community for further development. Imagine what not just 26 but 100 or even 1000 authors could come up with: a truly timely and organically evolving definition of the field.

I’ve participated in a few of these collective writing projects over the past few years, including View of Speculative Futures on ChatGPT and Generative Artificial Intelligence (AI): A Collective Reflection from the Educational Landscape The Manifesto for Teaching and Learning in a Time of Generative AI: A Critical Collective Stance to Better Navigate the Future, and  Venturing into the Unknown: Critical Insights into Grey Areas and Pioneering Future Directions in Educational Generative AI Research. All (especially the first) have been cited at a far higher rate than any other papers I have ever been involved with, partly because they are all really good, timely and authoritative papers, partly due to the skill and reputation of those who have led them, and partly because of promotion and citation by the large number of well-known authors involved in writing them. They have some of the same strengths as meta-studies (generally among the most highly cited papers in any field), representing an assortment of views stemming from prior research, with the added benefit of the original researchers having to defend their cases to the rest, albeit with social factors intruding that can lead to group-think, more voluble participants getting more of the air time, and so on.

Though the positive factors remain much the same in this one, I’m not sure whether this new paper will achieve a similar impact. It will get cited because it is, arguably, among the best ever written on the evolution of the educational technology field itself. If you are working in a niche where you need a shorthand high-level abstract analysis of every major thing that has happened in the field for at least the last half century, as well as (in more detail) currently significant themes, then this is the paper for you.  However,  I’d be slightly surprised if the definition we came up with at the end of it will get a great deal of broader traction. I think Aras did a great job of editing it down to something most of us found agreeable but it was a Sisyphean task that was never going to lead to something that would delight everyone. Apart from anything else, though a vast improvement on some of our earlier drafts, the definition is still very long and unwieldy. The refinements in the final paragraph are more contentious because they speak to aspirations rather than describing the whole reality. With such a large and diverse group hacking at it, it was very hard to come up with something that we all agreed with but, rather than get rid of them, Aras moved the more aspirational and prescriptive parts of it to the end. My words are in it but it’s a committee definition, and definitely not one I would write myself. I think I’d currently go with something like “the organization of stuff for learning and accreditation” though educational systems are complex and concerned with far more than just learning and credentials, so I might refine it a little further.

Here is the definition we actually came up with, in all its slightly awkward glory:

Educational technology, as a field of inquiry and practice, encompasses the research, understanding, design, orchestration, and evaluation of entangled human-technological systems — spanning analog, digital, organizational, social, and agentic dimensions — through which learning and meaning-making are enabled, mediated, supported, and transformed.

The field brings together researchers, practitioners, educators, communities, and institutions in ongoing efforts to study and improve educational experiences across formal, non-formal, and informal contexts.

The field holds as a core commitment that its theory, research and practice should be ethically grounded and critically reflexive — attending to the societal implications of technological integration, with particular concern for equity and the distribution of agency among all participants in educational processes. These commitments describe what the field aspires to, not a guarantee of how all its practice is enacted.

One important limitation: despite the large number of people from across the world involved, we are not perfectly representative of the field as a whole. I don’t think we had anyone from the training or corporate learning industry; the authorship was skewed towards researchers from relatively developed countries; we didn’t have many edtech geeks; there was not a lot of K-12 focus; women only accounted for less than a third of the authors; we were a little light on the informal and non-formal aspects; and we shared some non-universal attitudes, notably in having above average positive feelings towards openness. I don’t think many (if any) of us are involved with AECT, and that matters because the AECT plays a large role as a primary source of earlier definitions we respond to. In particular, I and my fellow co-authors are all part of a large but not ubiquitous community that would recognize complexivist accounts (e.g. Connectivism, entanglement theory, rhizomatic learning, networks of practice) as the most significant pedagogical models of our time, while AECT, even in its most recent definition, has never formally acknowledged their existence. The AECT definition also seems remarkably quiet about AI, even in its most recent, post-ChatGPT incarnation. I don’t know whether this is because it members move in different and more conservative educational circles than us, or whether it is a deliberate policy decision to ignore anything less than 10 or 20 years old, but not knowing is exactly why it is troublesome. I think that this makes a compelling case that our paper should be read as at least a counterbalance to theirs, but that there’s a future paper yet to be written that brings the many branches of the field together. And that is the point: not to create a definition that stands forever, but to be part of the ongoing conversation about what we do and why we do it, to capture a snapshot of what we think we are doing, and to allow it to be challenged and developed further. I’m very pleased to have had the chance to be a part of this. In a very real sense we were walking the talk, enacting and engaging in the kind of learning that we think edtech should support and enable. Aras is a real star for making this happen.

Finally, a personal reflection. One of my own papers is cited flatteringly often in the paper, but not by me, which was quite a novel thing for me to have to deal with. It put me in a slightly awkward position of wanting to explain and sometimes to defend it, while really wishing to cite some of my more recent papers and a whole book that represent a more developed view, yet feeling slightly apologetic and (in the company of many more significant researchers) not at all confident about pushing my views even more than they were already being pushed. It was a weird mix of feeling privileged, feeling proud, knowing that (having written a whole book on it, not to mention a lot of other papers) I should think of myself as something of an expert, but feeling very much like an imposter in the midst of all these smart people, not worthy of the attention. In the end I did chip in some clarifications and expansions, and I argued a few cases (mainly where my own theory was in agreement with others) but I consciously self-censored and there are still a couple of places where the interpretation is not quite what I meant when I wrote it. The soft/hard distinction, in particular, makes me a bit uneasy because, though my own views are represented, a different and (I believe) fundamentally incoherent definition (the classic business/accounting model of immaterial vs material) is partially spliced onto it. However, as I had to keep reminding myself, the paper appears in the text not because I promoted it but because others saw it as significant, so their understanding of it matters more than mine. There’s something self-referential in that, speaking to one of the core messages about the entangled, intertwined, complex, and distributed nature of knowledge that our new definition emphasizes.  It was an odd feeling, though, to see what has become of my baby now it has left home and had to fend for itself.

Abstract

Educational technologists have not settled on a fixed definition of the field and likely never will. However, attempting to define the field helps to understand the epistemological meanings that shape what the field sees, values, and considers worth pursuing. Through a critical historical review spanning over a century, alongside theoretical engagement with the concepts of entanglement and distributed agency, this paper identifies three key insufficiencies in current educational technology frameworks. These are the persistence of an instrumental-facilitative paradigm that treats technology as a resource deployed by human agents; the theoretical dissolution of the pedagogy-technology dichotomy that existing definitions have not absorbed; and the near-total silence on generative and agentic artificial intelligence, systems that now function not as tools but as active co-participants in educational processes. In response, we propose a new definition: Educational technology, as a field of inquiry and practice, encompasses the research, understanding, design, orchestration, and evaluation of entangled human-technological systems — spanning analog, digital, organizational, social, and agentic dimensions — through which learning and meaning-making are enabled, mediated, supported, and transformed. The field brings together researchers, practitioners, educators, communities, and institutions in ongoing efforts to study and improve educational experiences across formal, non-formal, and informal contexts. The field holds as a core commitment that its theory, research and practice should be ethically grounded and critically reflexive — attending to the societal implications of technological integration, with particular concern for equity and the distribution of agency among all participants in educational processes. These commitments describe what the field aspires to, not a guarantee of how all its practice is enacted. This definition is offered not as a resolution but as a basis for ongoing discussion, as it is best understood as a living definition. The field’s task is not to settle on a definition, but to keep it constantly evolving.

Reference

Bozkurt, A., Crompton, H., Farrow, R., Kukulska-Hulme, A., Dron, J., West, R., Palalas, A. (Aga) ., Bower, M., Xiao, J., Tlili, A., Henriksen, D., Pazurek, A., Huijser, H., Chiu, T.K.F., Jandrić, P., Jordan, K., Curry, J., Kimmons, R., Cukurova, M., Reeves, T., Hwang, G.-J., Shea, P., Lodge, J., Weller, M., Ng, D. and Asino, T.I. (2026) ‘Redefining Educational Technology: A Critical Collaborative Inquiry’, <i>Open Praxis</i>, 18(2), p. 192–211. Available at: https://doi.org/10.55982/openpraxis.18.2.1117.

New open journal from AACE: AI-Enhanced Learning (with a paper from me)

AI-Enhanced Learning cover illustrating a cyborg, AI-human hybrid mindThe Journal of Artificial Intelligence Enhanced Learning (AIEL), a diamond open-access journal published under the auspices of AACE and distributed worldwide through LearnTechLib has just launched its inaugural issue, which includes a paper from me (Cognitive Santa Claus Machines and the Tacit Curriculum).

This inaugural issue is a great start to what I think will come to be recognized as a leading journal in the field of AI and education.  As not just an author but an associate editor I am naturally a little biased but I’m very picky about the journals I work with and this one ticks all the right boxes. It is genuinely open, without fees for authors or readers. It is explicitly very multidisciplinary. The editors – Mike Searson, Theo Bastiaens and Gary Marks – are truly excellent, and prominent in the field of online and technology-enhanced learning. The publisher, AACE is a very well-oiled, prominent, professional, and likeable organization that has been a major player in the field for over 30 years, with extensive reach into institutional libraries the world over via LearnTechLib.

And the journal has an attitude that I like very much: it’s about learning enhancement through AI, not just AI and education. This fills a huge pragmatic need in an area where many practitioners are like deer caught in the headlights when it comes to thinking about what positive things we can do with our new robot friends/overlords/interlopers, and where too much of the conversation is implicitly focused on protecting the traditional forms and structures of our mediaeval education systems and the kinds of knowledge generative AI can more easily and effectively replicate.

This first issue crosses many disciplinary boundaries and aspects of the educational endeavour with a very diverse range of reflective papers by recognized experts in many facets of AI, education, and learning.  All are ultimately optimistic about the potential for learning enhancement but few back away from the wicked problems and potential for the opposite effect.  My own paper finds a thread of hope that we might not so much reinvent as simply notice what education currently does (it’s about learning to be as much as learning to do), and that we might recognize generative AIs not as tools but as cognitive Santa Claus machines, sharing their cognitive gifts to help us collectively achieve things we could not dream of before. It has a bit of theory to back that up.

If you have influence over such things, do encourage your libraries to subscribe!

New paper: The Manifesto for Teaching and Learning in a Time of Generative AI: A Critical Collective Stance to Better Navigate the Future

I’m proud to be the 7th of 47 authors on this excellent new paper, led by the indefatigable Aras Bozkurt and featuring some of the most distinguished contemporary researchers in online, open, mobile, distance, e- and [insert almost any cognate sub-discipline here] learning, as well as a few of us hanging on their coat tails like me.

AI negaiveAs the title suggests, it is a manifesto: it makes a series of statements (divided into 15 positive and 20 negative themes) about what is or what should be, and it is underpinned by a firm set of humanist pedagogical and ethical attitudes that are anything but neutral. What makes it interesting to me, though, can mostly be found in the critical insights that accompany each theme, that capture a little of the complexity of the discussions that led to them, and that add a lot of nuance. The research methodology, a modified and super-iterative Delphi design in which all participants are also authors is, I think, an incredibly powerful approach to research in the technology of education (broadly construed) that provides rigour and accountability without succumbing to science-envy.

 

AI-positiveNotwithstanding the lion’s share of the work of leading, assembling, editing, and submitting the paper being taken on by Aras and Junhong, it was a truly collective effort so I have very little idea about what percentage of it could be described as my work. We were thinking and writing together.  Being a part of that was a fantastic learning experience for many of us, that stretched the limits of what can be done with tracked changes and comments in a Google Doc, with contributions coming in at all times of day and night and just about every timezone, over weeks. The depth and breadth of dialogue was remarkable, as much an organic process of evolution and emergence as intelligent design, and one in which the document itself played a significant participant role. I felt a strong sense of belonging, not so much as part of a community but as part of a connectome.

For me, this epitomizes what learning technologies are all about. It would be difficult if not impossible to do this in an in-person setting: even if the researchers worked together on an online document, the simple fact that they met in person would utterly change the social dynamics, the pacing, and the structure. Indeed, even online, replicating this in a formal institutional context would be very difficult because of the power relationships, assessment requirements, motivational complexities and artificial schedules that formal institutions add to the assembly. This was an online-native way of learning of a sort I aspire to but seldom achieve in my own teaching.

The paper offers a foundational model or framework on which to build or situate further work as well as providing a moderately succinct summary of  a very significant percentage of the issues relating to generative AI and education as they exist today. Even if it only ever gets referred to by each of its 47 authors this will get more citations than most of my papers, but the paper is highly cite-able in its own right, whether you agree with its statements or not. I know I am biased but, if you’re interested in the impacts of generative AI on education, I think it is a must-read.

The Manifesto for Teaching and Learning in a Time of Generative AI: A Critical Collective Stance to Better Navigate the Future

Bozkurt, A., Xiao, J., Farrow, R., Bai, J. Y. H., Nerantzi, C., Moore, S., Dron, J., … Asino, T. I. (2024). The Manifesto for Teaching and Learning in a Time of Generative AI: A Critical Collective Stance to Better Navigate the Future. Open Praxis, 16(4), 487–513. https://doi.org/10.55982/openpraxis.16.4.777

Full list of authors:

  • Aras Bozkurt
  • Junhong Xiao
  • Robert Farrow
  • John Y. H. Bai
  • Chrissi Nerantzi
  • Stephanie Moore
  • Jon Dron
  • Christian M. Stracke
  • Lenandlar Singh
  • Helen Crompton
  • Apostolos Koutropoulos
  • Evgenii Terentev
  • Angelica Pazurek
  • Mark Nichols
  • Alexander M. Sidorkin
  • Eamon Costello
  • Steven Watson
  • Dónal Mulligan
  • Sarah Honeychurch
  • Charles B. Hodges
  • Mike Sharples
  • Andrew Swindell
  • Isak Frumin
  • Ahmed Tlili
  • Patricia J. Slagter van Tryon
  • Melissa Bond
  • Maha Bali
  • Jing Leng
  • Kai Zhang
  • Mutlu Cukurova
  • Thomas K. F. Chiu
  • Kyungmee Lee
  • Stefan Hrastinski
  • Manuel B. Garcia
  • Ramesh Chander Sharma
  • Bryan Alexander
  • Olaf Zawacki-Richter
  • Henk Huijser
  • Petar Jandrić
  • Chanjin Zheng
  • Peter Shea
  • Josep M. Duart
  • Chryssa Themeli
  • Anton Vorochkov
  • Sunagül Sani-Bozkurt
  • Robert L. Moore
  • Tutaleni Iita Asino

Abstract

This manifesto critically examines the unfolding integration of Generative AI (GenAI), chatbots, and algorithms into higher education, using a collective and thoughtful approach to navigate the future of teaching and learning. GenAI, while celebrated for its potential to personalize learning, enhance efficiency, and expand educational accessibility, is far from a neutral tool. Algorithms now shape human interaction, communication, and content creation, raising profound questions about human agency and biases and values embedded in their designs. As GenAI continues to evolve, we face critical challenges in maintaining human oversight, safeguarding equity, and facilitating meaningful, authentic learning experiences. This manifesto emphasizes that GenAI is not ideologically and culturally neutral. Instead, it reflects worldviews that can reinforce existing biases and marginalize diverse voices. Furthermore, as the use of GenAI reshapes education, it risks eroding essential human elements—creativity, critical thinking, and empathy—and could displace meaningful human interactions with algorithmic solutions. This manifesto calls for robust, evidence-based research and conscious decision-making to ensure that GenAI enhances, rather than diminishes, human agency and ethical responsibility in education.

And now in Chinese: 在线学习环境:隐喻问题与系统改进. And some thoughts on the value of printed texts.

Warm off the press, and with copious thanks and admiration to Junhong Xiao for the invitation to submit and the translation, here is my paper “The problematic metaphor of the environment in online learning” in Chinese, in the Journal of Open Learning. It is based on my OTESSA Journal paper, originally published as “On the Misappropriation of Spatial Metaphors in Online Learning” at the end of 2022 (a paper I am quite pleased with, though it has yet to receive any citations that I am aware of).

Many thanks, too, to Junhong for sending me the printed version that arrived today, smelling deliciously of ink. I hardly ever read anything longer than a shopping bill on paper any more but there is something rather special about paper that digital versions entirely lack. The particular beauty of a book or journal written in a language and script that I don’t even slightly understand is that, notwithstanding the ease with which I can translate it using my phone, it largely divorces the medium from the message. Even with translation tools my name is unrecognizable to me in this: Google Lens translates it as “Jon Delong”. Although I know it contains a translation of my own words, it is really just a thing: the signs it contains mean nothing to me, in and of themselves. And it is a thing that I like, much as I like the books on my bookshelf.

I am not alone in loving paper books, a fact that owners of physical copies of my most recent book (which can be read online for free but that costs about $CAD40 on paper) have had the kindness to mention, e.g. here and here. There is something generational in this, perhaps. For those of us who grew up knowing no other reading medium than ink on paper, there is comfort in the familiar, and we have thousands (perhaps millions) of deeply associated memories in our muscles and brains connected with it, made more precious by the increasing rarity with which those memories are reinforced by actually reading them that way. But, for the most part, I doubt that my grandchildren, at least, will lack that. While they do enjoy and enthusiastically interact with text on screens, from before they have been able to accurately grasp them they have been exposed to printed books, and have loved some of them as much as I did at the same ages.

It is tempting to think that our love of paper might simply be because we don’t have decent e-readers, but I think there is more to it than that. I have some great e-readers in many sizes and types, and I do prefer some of them to read from, for sure: backlighting when I need it, robustness, flexibility, the means to see it in any size or font that works for me, the simple and precise search, the shareable highlights, the lightness of (some) devices, the different ways I can hold them, and so on, make them far more accessible. But paper has its charms, too. Most obviously, something printed on a paper is a thing to own whereas, on the whole, a digital copy tends to just be a licence to read, and ownership matters. I won’t be leaving my e-books to my children. The thingness really matters in other ways, too. Paper is something to handle, something to smell. Pages and book covers have textures – I can recognize some books I know well by touch alone. It affects many senses, and is more salient as a result. It takes up room in an environment so it’s a commitment, and so it has to matter, simply because it is there; a rivalrous object competing with other rivalrous objects for limited space. Paper comes in fixed sizes that may wear down but will never change: it thus keeps its shape in our memories, too. My wife has framed occasional pages from my previously translated work, elevating them to art works, decoupled from their original context, displayed with the same lofty reverence as pages from old atlases. Interestingly, she won’t do that if it is just a printed PDF: it has to come from a published paper journal, so the provenance matters. Paper has a history and a context of its own, beyond what it contains. And paper creates its own context, filled with physical signals and landmarks that make words relative to the medium, not abstractions that can be reflowed, translated into other languages, or converted into other media (notably speech). The result is something that is far more memorable than a reflowable e-text. Over the years I’ve written a little about this here and there, and elsewhere, including a paper on the subject (ironically, a paper that is not available on paper, as it happens), describing an approach to making e-texts more memorable.

After reaching a slightly ridiculous peak in the mid-2000s, and largely as a result of a brutal culling that occurred when I came to Canada nearly 17 years ago, my paper book collection has now diminished to easily fit in a single and not particularly large free-standing IKEA shelving unit. The survivors are mostly ones I might want to refer to or read again, and losing some of them would sadden me a great deal, but I would only (perhaps) run into a burning building to save just a few, including, for instance:

  • A dictionary from 1936, bound in leather by my father and used in countless games of Scrabble and spelling disputes when I was a boy, and that was used by my whole family to look up words at one time or another.
  • My original hardback copy of the Phantom Tollbooth (I have a paperback copy for lending), that remains my favourite book of all time, that was first read to me by my father, and that I have read myself many times at many ages, including to my own children.
  • A boxed set of the complete works of Narnia, that I chose as my school art prize when I was 18 because the family copies had become threadbare (read and abused by me and my four siblings), and that I later read to my own children. How someone with very limited artistic skill came to win the school art prize is a story for another time.
  • A well-worn original hardback copy of Harold and the Purple Crayon (I have a paperback copy for lending) that my father once displayed for children in his school to read, with the admonition “This is Mr Dron’s book. Please handle with care” (it was not – it was mine).
  • A scribble-filled, bookmark-laden copy of Kevin Kelly’s Out of Control that strongly influenced my thinking when I was researching my PhD and that still inspires me today. I can remember exactly where I sat when I made some of the margin notes.
  • A disintegrating copy of Storyland, given to me by my godmother in 1963 and read to me and by me for many years thereafter. There is a double value to this one because we once had two copies of this in our home: the other belonged to my wife, and was also a huge influence on her at similar ages.

These books proudly wear their history and their relationships with me and my loved ones in all their creases, coffee stains, scuffs, and tattered pages.pile of some of my favourite books  To a greater or lesser extent, the same is true of almost all of the other physical books I have kept. They sit there as a constant reminder of their presence – their physical presence, their emotional presence, their social presence and their cognitive presence – flitting by in my peripheral vision many times a day, connecting me to thoughts and inspirations I had when I read them and, often, with people and places connected with them. None of this is true of my e-books. Nor is it quite the same for other objects of sentimental value, except perhaps (and for very similar reasons) the occasional sculpture or picture, or some musical instruments. Much as I am fond of (say) baby clothes worn by my kids or a battered teddy bear, they are little more than aides memoires for other times and other activities, whereas the books (and a few other objects) latently embody the experiences themselves. If I opened them again (and I sometimes do) it would not be the same experience, but it would enrich and connect with those that I already had.

I have hundreds of e-books that are available on many devices, one of which I carry with me at all times, not to mention an Everand (formerly Scribd) account with a long history, not to mention a long and mostly lost history of library borrowing, and I have at least a dozen devices on which to read them, from a 4 inch e-ink reader to a 32 inch monitor and much in between, but my connection with those is far more limited and transient. It is still more limited for books that are locked to a certain duration through DRM (which is one reason they are the scum of the earth). When I look at my devices and open the various reading apps on them I do see a handful of book covers, usually those that I have most recently read, but that is too fleeting and volatile to have much value. And when I open them they don’t fall open on well-thumbed pages. The text is not tangibly connected with the object at all.

As well as smarter landmarks within them, better ways to make e-books more visible would help, which brings me to the real point of this post. For many years I have wanted to paper a wall or two with e-paper (preferably in colour) on which to display e-book covers, but the costs are still prohibitive. It would be fun if the covers would become battered with increasing use, showing the ones that really mattered, and maybe dust could settle on those that were never opened, though it would not have to be so skeuomorphic – fading would work, or glyphs. They could be ordered manually or by (say) reading date, title, author, or subject. Perhaps touching them or scanning a QR code could open them. I would love to get a research grant to do this but I don’t think asking for electronic wallpaper in my office would fly with most funding sources, even if I prettied it up with words like “autoethnography”, and I don’t have a strong enough case, nor can I think of a rigorous enough research methodology to try it in a larger study with other people. Well. Maybe I will try some time. Until the costs of e-paper come down much further, it is not going to be a commercially viable product, either, though prices are now low enough that it might be possible to do it in a limited way with a poster-sized display for a (very) few thousand dollars. It could certainly be done with a large screen TV for well under $1000 but I don’t think a power-hungry glowing screen would be at all the way to go: the value would not be enough to warrant the environmental harm or energy costs, and something that emitted light would be too distracting. I do have a big monitor on my desk, though, which is already doing that so it wouldn’t be any worse, to which I could add a background showing e-book covers or spines. I could easily do this as a static image or slideshow, but I’d rather have something dynamic. It shouldn’t be too hard to extract the metadata from my list of books, swipe the images from the Web or the e-book files, and show them as a backdrop (a screensaver would be trivial). It might even be worth extending this to papers and articles I have read. I already have Pocket open most of the time, displaying web pages that I have recently read or want to read (serving a similar purpose for short-term recollection), and that could be incorporated in this. I think it would be useful, and it would not be too much work to do it – most of the important development could be done in a day or two. If anyone has done this already or feels like coding it, do get in touch!

Preprint – The human nature of generative AIs and the technological nature of humanity: implications for education

Here is a preprint of a paper I just submitted to MDPI’s Digital journal that applies the co-participation model that underpins How Education Works (and a number of my papers over the last few years) to generative AIs (GAIs). I don’t know whether it will be accepted and, even if it is, it is very likely that some changes will be required. This is a warts-and-all raw first submission. It’s fairly long (around 10,000 words).

The central observation around which the paper revolves is that, for the first time in the history of technology, recent generations of GAIs automate (or at least appear to automate) the soft technique that has, till now, been the sole domain of humans. Up until now, every technology we have ever created, be it physically instantiated, cognitive, organizational, structural, or conceptual, has left all of the soft part of the orchestration to human beings.

The fact that GAIs replicate the soft stuff is a matter for some concern when they start to play a role in education, mainly because:

  • the skills they replace may atrophy or never be learned in the first place. This is not even slightly like replacing hard skills of handwriting or arithmetic: we are talking about skills like creativity, problem-solving, critical inquiry, design, and so on. We’re talking about the stuff that GAIs are trained with.
  • the AIs themselves are an amalgam, an embodiment of our collective intelligence, not actual people. You can spin up any kind of persona you like and discard it just as easily. Much of the crucially important hidden/tacit curriculum of education is concerned with relationships, identity, ways of thinking, ways of being, ways of working and playing with others. It’s about learning to be human in a human society. It is therefore quite problematic to delegate how we learn to be human to a machine with (literally and figuratively) no skin in the game, trained on a bunch of signals signifying nothing but more signals.

On the other hand, to not use them in educational systems would be as stupid as to not use writing. These technologies are now parts of our extended cognition, intertwingled with our collective intelligence as much as any other technology, so of course they must be integrated in our educational systems. The big questions are not about whether we should embrace them but how, and what soft skills they might replace that we wish to preserve or develop. I hope that we will value real humans and their inventions more, rather than less, though I fear that, as long as we retain the main structural features of our education systems without significant adjustments to how they work, we will no longer care, and we may lose some of our capacity for caring.

I suggest a few ways we might avert some of the greatest risks by, for instance, treating them as partners/contractors/team members rather than tools, by avoiding methods of “personalization” that simply reinforce existing power imbalances and pedagogies designed for better indoctrination, by using them to help connect us and support human relationships, by doing what we can to reduce extrinsic drivers, by decoupling learning and credentials, and by doubling down on the social aspects of learning. There is also an undeniable explosion in adjacent possibles, leading to new skills to learn, new ways to be creative, and new possibilities for opening up education to more people. The potential paths we might take from now on are unprestatable and multifarious but, once we start down them, resulting path dependencies may lead us into great calamity at least as easily as they may expand our potential. We need to make wise decisions now, while we still have the wisdom to make them.

MDPI invited me to submit this article free of their normal article processing charge (APC). The fact that I accepted is therefore very much not an endorsement of APCs, though I respect MDPI’s willingness to accommodate those who find payment difficult, the good editorial services they provide, and the fact that all they publish is open. I was not previously familiar with the Digital journal itself. It has been publishing 4 articles a year since 2021, mostly offering a mix of reports on application designs and literature reviews. The quality seems good.

Abstract

This paper applies a theoretical model to analyze the ways that widespread use of generative AIs (GAIs) in education and, more broadly, in contributing to and reflecting the collective intelligence of our species, can and will change us. The model extends Brian Arthur’s insights into the nature of technologies as the orchestration of phenomena to our use by explaining the nature of humans participation in their enactment, whether as part of the orchestration (hard technique, where our roles must be performed correctly) or as orchestrators of phenomena (soft technique performed creatively or idiosyncratically). Education may be seen as a technological process for developing the soft and hard techniques of humans to participate in the technologies and thus the collective intelligence of our cultures. Unlike all earlier technologies, by embodying that collective intelligence themselves, GAIs can closely emulate and implement not only the hard technique but also the soft that, until now, was humanity’s sole domain: the very things that technologies enabled us to do can now be done by the technologies themselves. The consequences for what, how, and even whether we learn are profound. The paper explores some of these consequences and concludes with theoretically informed approaches that may help us to avert some dangers while benefiting from the strengths of generative AIs.

Originally posted at: https://landing.athabascau.ca/bookmarks/view/20512771/preprint-the-human-nature-of-generative-ais-and-the-technological-nature-of-humanity-implications-for-education