(This is my ninth post in a series of entries I’m using to participate in Blaugust for 2026.)
There’s an interesting read by Luke Plunkett over at Aftermath about employees pretending to use AI but still doing all of the work themselves.( Note that this is a more informal news site meant for more video game themed content, and profanity exists. Maybe don’t open this link up in front of students.)
I’m fortunate to not be in their shoes. Granted, my employer has opened the door to AI use, but with many limitations, even more so for student use, and at no point have I been told it’s mandatory.
(The people who want me to use it really, really want me to use it, but if I want to be favorable I’ll point out people who really, really like a TV show would like you to watch it, also.)
As I don’t teach higher than 8th grade I’m under even more restrictions. We do have access to Adobe products but the GenAI portions are only enabled for High School staff and students, at least as of last school year. (I did not complain when I found out.)
Not so for employees outside of my small corner of education, it seems, as companies needing to brag to shareholders and other investors that they’re being the most productive ever with the newest of buzzword tools are mandating AI usage and even implying bad things will happen (career-wise) if they don’t ramp up token use.
(I’m going to acknowledge here that some places are learning the financial downside of this and move on, grateful that learning by doing can still exist among adults.)
I marvel at the dichotomy of some trying to hide their AI use in certain situations, like student papers and, very notably, legal cases, while elsewhere people are having to pretend AI had a hand in their work because someone higher up the chain is certain that’s a better outcome.
I can tell you right now: AI does not make a student film better. It makes it look like slop.
AI can’t help me write better. Proofreading is the hardest part of the writing process for me, and because AI shows what an answer looks like (instead of showing an answer) I’d have to check over anything it does more thoroughly. It’s emotionally draining in a way that proofreading my own work or even student work never is.
(Besides, everyone knows the best way to check for errors is to publish the document and read over it after you know someone else has already seen it. You find ALL the errors that way.)
I can’t see a time when supervisors in my content area will put me in the same boat as the anonymous interviewees in the Aftermath article for a few reasons, most notably the emphasis on teacher and student choice that weaves through everything in our digital media arts department. We’re given tool options, not tool mandates.
Beyond that, things cost money. You know what my department does when they’ve paid for a thing and people don’t use it?
They stop paying for it.
It’s a novel concept, I know. You’d think businesses that can afford to lose more than my school system’s entire operating budget and still somehow stay afloat would be able to grasp the concept.
Instead, their employees have to lie about running what they did through an AI to “check” it.