Scroll through your social media feed, and you’ll see a video generated by artificial intelligence. Google something, and the first thing you’ll see is an AI overview. Click through a few websites, and you’re sure to see an ad for a new AI software. Generative AI is the shiny new toy of venture capitalists and Facebook moms alike, and, whether you’re a chronic doomscroller or limit your internet use to email, AI products and tools are inescapable. Until the AI bubble bursts — if it bursts at all — we can expect this encroachment to creep ever-forward, eroding the humanity in our virtual and physical worlds.
There’s opposition to this phenomenon, of course. Lots of it. Arguments against generative AI are manifold, persuasive, and (by now) probably familiar to you. I’m not going to spend 500 words telling you that AI is bad for the environment (it is), or that AI companies are exploiting vulnerable workers (they are). I’m not going to write about how AI chatbots respond to your questions with hallucinations and grammatically correct nonsense (they do), or that AI relies on stolen intellectual property (it does), or about the countless other reasons you should be opposed to AI. You’ve heard these arguments before, and maybe intellectually you agree with them. But you still use AI.
Yes, you. Probability-wise, I’m on solid ground, given that an article in last week’s issue of the Record found 77 percent of surveyed students at the College reported AI usage, with 67 percent of those reporting using it at least once a week. But I don’t feel very good about what’s likely to be a correct guess. In fact, I feel like I’m losing an embarrassingly one-sided war. Decrying generative AI has the flavor of a carriage driver bemoaning the advent of cars or a ’90s stick-in-the-mud complaining about the internet — that is, in whatever metaphoric sense you prefer, one who is pathetically out of step with the times.
I understand why so many people use AI. It seems so helpful, with its emoji-laden summaries, its peppy answers, and its ability to automate all of the reading and problem sets you find so boring. Using AI is easy, so much so that you hardly have to think about it, and before you realize it, you’re using it more and more. And you are busy. Very, very busy. ChatGPT can help you pass the required class you didn’t want to take, or avoid the second all-nighter of the week. When you’re in the thick of the semester, it’s easy to put your head down and focus on getting through your work as quickly and painlessly as possible. Why bother, you might think. I don’t care about this class. I don’t like this professor. I won’t use any of this information again. It doesn’t matter.
If you take that line of thinking far enough, though, very little ends up mattering. Many of us are going to end up as consultants, and all of us are going to die eventually, probably with relatively little to show for it. Maybe that seems pessimistic, but, as I see it, there’s a freedom in focusing less on ease, efficiency, and your five-year plan, and more on becoming the most well-rounded, learned, and fulfilled version of yourself. And when you look at AI in that way, using it matters a whole lot. Because it’s not just the hypothetical sea turtles and artists who suffer. It’s you.
No one (I hope) is holding you captive and forcing you to attend Williams. You chose to be here, and someone is probably paying a lot of money to give you that privilege. You’re surrounded by brilliant professors who are experts in their field, and you have the chance to get to know them and to ask them questions. You have world-class resources at your disposal, and there are endless opportunities to learn and endless ways to do it. You have your pick of classes on everything under the sun, and other than a few divisional and major requirements, complete freedom to choose between them. Perhaps most importantly, you’re part of a large, diverse community of students, from whom you can teach and who can teach you in turn. You have, in brief, the chance to immerse yourself fully in collaboration, learning, and the pursuit of your passions.
Life after graduation, with jobs and children in the mix, is a very different beast. Chances are, your boss isn’t going to have you reading and discussing critical theory or practicing proofs, nor will they be as forgiving of mistakes or as willing to let you explore your interests as your professors here. You will not live in an environment like this again, and you will not have the sheer luxury of being able to learn for learning’s sake. As busy and tired as you might be at times, there’s something special about being a student. When you use AI, you rob yourself of that something.
Last year, I took “CHEM 100: Chemistry Matters.” I have never been particularly STEM adept, and even a 100-level class seemed like an insurmountable challenge. Had I used ChatGPT to help me with every test and homework assignment, I could have easily passed the class with time to spare for my friends and other classes. But instead, I went to office hours every week, sometimes twice a week. I spent hours puzzling out problem sets and going to review sessions. I read the textbook, and read it again, and watched explanatory videos. I won’t tell you that I discovered a life-changing love of chemistry or anything, and given that I didn’t go on to Chemistry 101, maybe it seems like wasted effort. But that effort is its own reward, and so is the knowledge that came with it. I can confidently say that I understand the world around me a little better now, and that I’m glad to have learned about a field so different from my own. It might not seem that impressive to a STEM major, but when I finished the class with an A, I was incredibly proud of the progress I’d made, and I consider it one of the more rewarding experiences I’ve had at the College. In a way far beyond the grade, it mattered to me. And if I’d used AI, that accomplishment wouldn’t have been my own.
We’ve all seen what current AI technology is capable of, and there are chilling portents of what it might be able to do in the years to come. But the choice here isn’t about what AI is capable of. It’s about what you’re capable of, and what you lose in not exercising that capability. You owe it to yourself not to squander your education. You owe it to yourself to think things through and to form your own opinions. You owe it to yourself to do the hard stuff, the boring stuff, and the stuff that confuses you. You may learn slowly and you may struggle, but you may also find that effort to be enjoyable. And the beauty of this college is that you’re never alone, even without AI resources. Whether it’s office hours, TA sessions, the library, or your peers, there’s help all around you from people who care about you and your success. So ask questions. Be confused. Puzzle through things. Think. When you do all of this, you’re choosing yourself over efficiency. But you’re also choosing art, learning, and everything that gives our life meaning. And if such a conviction against AI still seems comically futile to you, I, at least, think that this is a very nice hill to die on — and I’d rather do that myself than with an AI chatbot beside me.
Catherine Shutt ’26.5 is an anthropology major from Columbia, S.C.
