The Engine Needs a Driver

What’s the purpose of any technology in teaching? Is it to make the work easier? Or is to increase the effectiveness of the work? Looking for technology that makes teaching easier is SUPER dangerous because it's a profound misrepresentation of the work of teaching.

There's already plenty of AI tools promising to make teaching easier. Many platforms claim to be able to plan lessons, generate activities, write assessments, or somehow reduce the complexity of teaching.

I see this as a slippery slope. In an environment where big corporations are pushing boxed curriculums with scripts, and school district administrators are spending millions in the attempt to standardize the pace and content of instruction, AI technology offers an efficient answer to the problems of pesky human teachers and students whose flesh-and-blood real-life experiences don’t follow a generic, pre-ordained pattern. And what do we think will happen when the scripts fail to deliver the test scores that the systems lust after? I don’t think the systems (i.e. the bosses) will see the err of the standardizing logic. I think they’ll blame teachers, and then take the next obvious step—AI teachers.

I'm not interested in making teaching easy. I want teaching to be responsive to the situational-context of the particular learning environment. Anything other than that is a betrayal of the purpose of public schools in America. Any teacher who thinks teaching is easy is either a terrible teacher or their students are school-proof. School-proof students don’t rely on human teachers because their privilege has already secured the preferred outcome. No, easy can’t be the goal.

Teaching has always been difficult because it requires judgment. Every lesson asks us to notice students, interpret what we're seeing, make decisions in real time, and design learning experiences that invite students to make meaning. That craft of teaching isn't a problem to be eliminated. It's the honorable work of the profession.

But this isn’t an anti-AI manifesto. I’m neither reluctantly accepting AI nor trivializing or demonizing its existence.  Rather, I argue that we need another metaphor to see the big picture. I think it's helpful to think about AI the way we think about fuel in an automobile.

Fuel doesn't drive a car; it contains stored energy. Inside the engine, that energy is converted into power that has the capacity to move a vehicle. But even the most powerful engine cannot decide where to go. It doesn't know when to slow down, when to change course, or when road conditions require a different approach. Only the driver does that.

We can apply the same distinction when we think about AI in education. Consider this:

The Culturally Responsive Education (CRE) Mental Model—the six themes and the five planning questions—is the engine. It’s the framework that organizes professional thinking. It gives structure to the difficult intellectual work of designing learning experiences that are engaging, responsive, and rigorous.

The Brilliant Teaching app isn’t the engine or the driver. It’s the high-performance fuel.

It accelerates the work. It retrieves information quickly. It extends possibilities. It helps organize ideas, surface connections, and reduce the friction involved in thoughtful planning. In other words, it enhances the reach and stamina of the teacher's thinking.

But horse-power alone is never enough.

The human teacher remains the driver.

The teacher determines the destination. The teacher notices students’ needs and assets, checks for understanding, adjusts to changing conditions, manages the emotional economy, exercises ethical judgment, and decides which instructional moves make sense in this particular classroom with these particular learners.

That is why I have consistently argued that the responsible use of artificial intelligence is to extend human intelligence. The reckless use of artificial intelligence is to replace human judgment.

The distinction is more than a slogan. It’s shaped the design of the Brilliant Teaching app from the very beginning.

I don’t want to restrict teachers; I want to empower them. I wasn't interested in building software that thinks instead of teachers. I wanted to build a tool that helps teachers think more deeply, more efficiently, and with greater intentionality while preserving the professional judgment that brilliant teaching will always required.

Many AI products promise to reduce the amount of thinking teachers have to do. I want to increase the amount of high-quality thinking teachers are able to do. If we truly care about closing Equity gaps, then we should be investing in teachers' capacity for thoughtful design—not searching for shortcuts around it. Equity is advanced through the professional judgment of human teachers and not the avoidance of it.

The engine needs a driver. And I believe it always will. A car isn’t inherently good or bad. It’s a tool—and like any other, its effectiveness is a function of our human intentions. When we center our humanity, we’ll use our tools in ways that advance the profession and benefit students. If we center something other than that, we’ll further erase the humanity out of the educational endeavor. And I’m not anxious to be a part of that future. Are you?