Updated May 6, 2025
There is no shortage of opinions or perspectives on AI and its impact on education. As we get more granular in our understanding of risks and possibilities, new possibilities and risks emerge. Not even necessarily new, but more defined.
As I write this, I realize the first paragraph isnāt great. AI could make it better. But Iām leaving it. Iām leaving it for 3 reasons. First, Iām lazy. The reason I blog is that Iāve always treated it as somewhat of a brain dump. Certainly, I want to be coherent and provide something of value to others, but as Iāve often said, my 20 years of blogging are more of a repository of my thinking than anything else. Second, I want this to be me. Iāve not yet trained AI to recognize my style well enough to produce anything that could be mistaken for me. But also, see my first reason. Third, I enjoy the process of wrestling with ideas, deleting words and ideas and seeing a piece of writing to the end. While I use Grammarly to some extent, I find its suggestions a tad annoying and yes, they make my writing better, some of my flaws are fine. (Full disclosure: I used AI to generate the title.)
One of my influences over the years was Clay Shirky. I say āwasā because Iāve not heard much from him lately. Cognitive Surplus, Here Comes Everybody, and his TED talks were seminal pieces in my learning and understanding of the Internet. He also wrote a piece later on about why he banned laptops in his classroom. I wrote about that. For whatever reason, his name came to mind, and I wondered what he was thinking about Genai. Interestingly enough, he wrote about it last month. I resonated with much of what he wrote:
> _After observing that student action and thought is the only possible source of learning, Simon concluded, āThe teacher can advance learning only by influencing the student to learn.ā Faced with generative AI in our classrooms, the obvious response for us is to influence students to adopt the helpful uses of AI while persuading them to avoid the harmful ones. Our problem is that we donāt know how to do that._
Iāve been working for the better part of the last 2 years exploring the risks and possibilities. Iām just now entering the kind of work where weāll deal with this challenge directly. Itās complicated and complex. Just like I wrote about Shirky and his laptop experiment, that you have to give it a try before you decide to shut things down, Shirky suggests thatās already been happening in higher ed.
> _Since the arrival of generative AI, I have spent much of the last two years talking with professors and students to try to understand what is going on in their classrooms. In those conversations, faculty have been variously vexed, curious, angry, or excited about AI, but as last year was winding down, for the first time one of the frequently expressed emotions was sadness. This came from faculty who were, by their account, adopting the strategies my colleagues and I have recommended: emphasizing the connection between effort and learning, responding to AI-generated work by offering a second chance rather than simply grading down, and so on. Those faculty were telling us our recommended strategies were not working as well as weād hoped, and they were saying it with real distress_.
The ubiquity of this technology is such that itās going to be harder and harder to distinguish between the good and bad uses of Genai. Iāve been pushing the idea of productive struggle as a primary goal of school. Learning isnāt always hard, but it can be. We live in a world that is obsessed with reducing barriers, both for good and also because, as humans, we are typically looking for shortcuts. Iām 61. I donāt need to ālearnā to write, but I enjoy spending time choosing my words and seeing an idea come to life. I know others who use AI much more directly in their writing. To me, thatās personal preference. But in the developmental stages of life, thatās not a preference.
The story that Shirky shares about William, describes what may be an inevitable path where AI just does what schools have typically asked for, and learning becomes secondary or non-existent. Currently, Iāve seen progress in trying to create some guidelines and structures to support students and teachers in navigating our use of GENai. However, what Shirky is describing here goes beyond those guidelines to address the emotions and cognitive struggle that is often unintentionally being offloaded to AI. I talk to many who sense an unpleasant feeling when they use AI, and that shouldnāt be dismissed. This goes way beyond just trying to ācatchā kids using AI inappropriately or to avoid work, but is about doing the work. The āworkā in this case isnāt the product but the thinking and all the things a teacher likely doesnāt see. One of my favourite questions is asking students what they choose to leave out of an assignment or project. This helps me and them understand how they edit and curate their work.
Maybe we need to explicitly teach the concept of productive struggle, or as Shirky calls it, ādesirable difficultyā. Resilience and grit may be part of it, but I suspect itās even more than that. Maybe we need to encourage our students and ourselves to monitor our feelings and call out when AI feel weird. As adults, we have the advantage of more experience not using AI. I recently talked with a high school teacher who was sharing similar stories about how her students were reluctant to use AI for fear of learning loss. As teenagers, they have memories of learning without AI. Like many of us older folks who remember learning without the Internet, our high school students are the last generation to have some memory of learning without AI.
Iām writing this not because I have a ton of answers, but as I continue to support educators in this work, this is currently my biggest fear. What I am grateful for is knowing how many educators are willing to address this concern and work towards something that helps students.
Media literacy and civil discourse have been central themes in my work for over two decades. As we navigate the complexities of Generative AI, these skills are not just underdevelopedātheyāre increasingly undermined by the very platforms that dominate public conversation. While certain mindsets, dispositions, and strategies offer hope, Iām discouraged by the lack of visible modelling and the scarcity of platforms that truly foster these essential skills.
Recently, Iāve had the privilege of connecting with Andrew McLuhan, grandson of Marshall McLuhan. His insights have deepened my appreciation for his grandfatherās work, which Iāve long admired. Andrew reminded me that while most of us focus on media literacy, Marshall McLuhan was equally invested in media ecologyāa concept anchored in his most famous phrase: āThe medium is the message.ā Media literacy equips us to critically analyze media content, uncovering bias and influence. Media ecology, on the other hand, explores how media themselvesāregardless of contentāreshape the way we think, feel, and interact. Where media literacy asks what a message means, media ecology asks how the medium changes the message and its effects on society.
If youāve read McLuhan or Neil Postman, it might seem as if they were deeply skepticalāif not outright criticalāof media. Itās worth remembering that both were writing long before the digital age exploded. I asked Andrew if his grandfather was anti-media or saw media as harmful to society. He shared that Marshall McLuhan worked hard to maintain neutralityāto be a true scientist. He believed that allowing bias into his studies would obstruct his ability to truly understand a medium. That doesnāt mean he lacked opinions, but rather that he saw bias as a barrier to comprehension.
Remaining neutral today is no small task. Being neutral is often condemned, āYou must choose a side.ā This is where my frustration lies. I want to examine the political tension and chaos that dominate our current reality. As a Canadian, I see my own country grappling with the influence of events happening just south of the border. Watching the U.S. navigate its divisions makes it difficult to find media that calmly, logically, and critically interpret the implications of policy and governance. The media ecology itself is fractured. Many of my colleagues in educationāthose who do share political viewsālean heavily in one direction.
As I strive to maintain the mindset of a media ecologist, I see people who are angry, afraid, and disillusioned. I intentionally seek out perspectives that differ from my own to better understand the reasoning behind them. Often, I find those perspectives presented with a sense of certainty, even smugness. On both sides, people seem baffled by the inability of others to āsee the truth.ā They express frustration and, more troublingly, a belief that understanding and coexistence may no longer be possible.
Even suggesting civil discourse today can feel naĆÆve. Some have written it off entirely. And yet, I remain desperate to find examples of thoughtful, intelligent people engaging across ideological dividesāpeople who wrestle with difficult issues, challenge each otherās thinking, and explore the real-world consequences of policy decisions. If such models exist, they are marginalized, unsupported, or invisible in todayās media landscape.
Years ago, I followed a podcast called āAn Atheist and a Christian,ā where two friends with fundamentally different worldviews had respectful, curious conversations. It wasnāt about winning arguments; it was about understanding. I found it inspiringāboth for what I learned and for the demonstration of what civility could look like.
This week, I searched for a similar platform where Americans with opposing views engage in meaningful discussion. I couldnāt find one. Todayās dominant formatsāpodcasts and short-form videosāreward speed, certainty, and outrage. The most successful content often caricatures the opposition, portraying them as stupid or evil rather than presenting thoughtful counterarguments. These trends arenāt accidental. Theyāre engineered to attract followers and engagement. Consumers, in turn, are incentivized to stay in their echo chambers.
The closest I came was a new podcast from Gavin Newsom, where he invites right-wing guests to share their views. I appreciated the attempt, but the episodes I watched lacked the depth and challenge I was hoping for. Still, I learned something new. The podcast, predictably, is criticized from both sides: the left sees it as pandering; the right views it as politically motivated.
Many readers will insist there are not two sidesāonly one right side and one wrong. But Iām not interested in picking sides. Iām trying to follow McLuhanās example and understand why this is happening. When you immerse yourself in each information bubble, it genuinely feels like entering a parallel universe. How can people live in the same countryāeven the same neighbourhoodāsee the world so differently? Itās both unsettling and fascinating.
From a Canadian perspective, U.S. polarization exerts a heavy influence. While Canada is not immune to division, the stakes seem higher in the U.S., and the ripple effects are real. As an educator committed to diversity, critical thinking, media literacy, and civil discourse, I feel a responsibility to imagine and help build environments where differing viewpoints can be exploredāspaces that arenāt governed by algorithms designed to stoke rage and deepen division.
At this moment, it appears we may have to create these spaces ourselves. If examples exist, Iād love to hear about them. If not, perhaps we can begin experimenting together. And if youāve noticed a growing unwillingness to talk across lines of difference, Iād love to know what you think is driving that. Surely, you know people whose beliefs differ from yoursāpeople you still respect. If not, we may already be losing the battle for civil discourse. There isnāt a lot of civility from anyone these days. And if that disappears, I fear it could be replaced by something far more dangerous.
20 years ago, I heard about a thing called blogging. I was a technology director/consultant like a kid in a candy shop trying every new tool out there. For those of you of a certain age, youāll recall the mid-2000ās was a burgeoning time in edtech. Laptops were replacing desktops, web 2.0 had emerged and multimedia was coming on strong with digital cameras and video.
Hereās my very first blog post:
Brilliant, I know. Interestingly this post garnered 6 responses which speaks to how things used to be. This was pre-social media as we know it today but it was part of Web 2.0 which was the new ease and opportunity to create as well as consume content.
Iāve always been an early adopter. I joined Youtube in 2006 and Twitter in 2007. Iāve never referred to myself as a content creator but the numbers donāt lie:
* Blog Posts: 1,441
* YouTube Videos: 366 (thatās just my channel, like over 500 with contributions to other channels
* Tweets: 28,947
* Photos: 19,057 (flicker only)
* Podcast Episodes: 184 (over multiple shows)
Blogging has remained my most important platform. From the beginning, I was excited to be able to share without restriction or gatekeeping. I would post about anything I wanted. The value was partly to document my thinking, bookmarking new tools, sharing something useful for others and occasionally engaging in interesting conversations. What I never did then and not since was strategically use these platforms to grow and build my brand. That word itself has been explored a lot in this space. I didnāt learn about SEO or explore the myriad of tools designed to make the most of digital marketing. I know that cost me $$ and opportunities. But Iām naturally lazy and wasnāt interested in making a business out of it. That is no criticism to those who have. Theyāre smarter and more motivated than I am.
I have no real idea how many people read this blog. Itās been years since I looked at the stats. I know somewhere I have an email subscriber list. I did look at that about 5 years ago and saw I had about 500 subscribers. My guess is most of them have this go straight to trash. At one point I had 40,000 Twitter followers which always blew my daughters away and to this day canāt figure out how that happened. Neither can I.
Iāve been posting content for 20 years and I still enjoy it. I have no idea if others find value, although I do know my recent podcast seems to be well-received by many. I have no plans to do anything new or different. Iāve recently watched a colleague Tim Childers grow a pretty nice YouTube following which seems to be a nice part-time retirement gig. This stuff still fascinates me and itās nice to see people find ways to connect and provide real value to others. I hope I can continue that. Happy anniversary to me.
Sticking with my commitment in my first post of the year, I want to write about sports gambling. The extent of my gambling is fantasy football so I canāt be too hypocritical but I think it is, like AI, an issue that schools are going to need to address sooner rather than later.
A few years ago, I listened to a Freakonomics podcast that explored how our understanding of risk and reward has evolved. It examined how institutions, from financial markets to sports leagues, have blurred the lines between entertainment and gambling, creating an environment where betting is not just accepted but actively encouraged. More recently, Michael Lewisā latest season of _Against the Rules_ has taken a deep dive into the explosion of sports gambling, exposing how the industry has positioned itself at the center of modern sports culture. He highlights how accessibility, technology, and aggressive marketing have made betting almost inescapableāespecially for young people. The podcast also reveals the way these gambling sites have utilized AI to the point where they canāt lose and not only target poor players but also throttle good ones. While Canada and the US are relatively new to legalized sports gambling, other countries can tell you the negative impact it will bring.
The normalization of sports gambling is happening at an alarming rate, and itās targeting young audiences with precision. If you watch a game today, youāll see that betting odds are seamlessly woven into broadcasts, social media feeds, and even classroom conversations. While many like me hate it, it is appealing to many and particularly young men.
If weāre going to be serious about fostering critical thinking around things like AI and media in general, we have to include the impact of gambling. We already know that schools play a crucial role in teaching digital literacy and responsible decision-making. But are we prepared to help students navigate the risks of a world where gambling is as accessible as checking the score of last nightās game?
Consider how we talk to students about risk. We educate them about the dangers of substance abuse, social media manipulation, and financial responsibility, but gambling often flies under the radar. It lurks in the spaces where students feel most comfortableāon their phones, in their group chats, and even in casual conversations about sports. The rise of micro-betting, where fans can wager on things as small as the outcome of the next pitch, further erodes the distinction between engagement and addiction.
Thereās a lesson here that ties directly into well-being. Just as unrealistic expectations in relationships or careers can lead to dissatisfaction and anxiety, so too can the false promises of easy money and endless wins. The dopamine rush of a small victory can be addictive, and the inevitable losses can spiral into something much darker. Young people, especially boys, are particularly vulnerable to this cycle, as many of them are still developing impulse control and critical decision-making skills.
So, what should schools do? First, we need to name the problem. Sports gambling is no longer a fringe issueāitās a mainstream force shaping how students engage with sports and money. Schools should integrate discussions about gambling literacy into curricula, much like they do with media literacy and financial literacy. We need to equip students with the ability to recognize how the odds are stacked against them and how gambling companies manipulate behaviour.
Second, we need to shift the conversation about sports. The joy of watching and playing sports shouldnāt be tied to financial stakes. Educators and coaches can reinforce that fandom doesnāt have to come with a betting slip. Schools can also partner with mental health professionals to address gambling addiction in the same way they approach substance abuse and gaming addiction. Sports plays such an important role in society. Perhaps in our world today not only does it represent a healthy escape but it can bring communities and people together in a wholesome and powerful way. Sports gambling doesnāt add to it but takes some of that away.
Finally, parents and educators need to be more aware of the signals. When students casually mention betting on a game, itās worth asking: Do they understand the risks? Are they chasing losses? Is gambling becoming a core part of their social interactions? These are the kinds of questions we should be asking before the problem becomes too big to ignore.
I donāt have all the answers, but I know this: expecting young people to navigate this issue alone is not realistic or fair. Just as we have learned to guide them through the challenges of social media, online safety, and mental health, we need to step up and help them understand the risks of sports gambling. Schools, as places of learning and community, have a responsibility to be part of that conversation. I did talk recently with Tom DāAmico, Director of Education at Ottawa Catholic who told him that his school counsellors were already dealing with this addiction with young boys. Good for them. My ask is that we donāt wait until it reaches that level of addiction.
If this resonates with you, Iād love to hear your thoughts. What role do you think schools should play in addressing sports gambling? Is this something your community is already talking about, or is it still under the radar?
Before you read any further, I need to be clear in stating my limitations and expertise when it comes to mental health. I have some expertise in my journey as well as a parent and educator but concede there are experts and everyoneās experiences that I canāt speak to directly. As I stated in my 2025 early reflection post, I want to reflect on this issue. If you also deal with mental health issues, it is advised that you seek professional help. A lot of mental health professionals are now using billing systems from ABA Billing Companies to efficiently manage insurance payments and other billing documents.
I recall listening to a podcast many years ago, so long I canāt even remember the source, that talked about how marriage and our expectations of marriage have changed over the years. It used to be that marriage was more like a partnership, one that took into account how each would complement one another. In many cases, it was more focused on a business relationship. In an agricultural context, people looked to see how their partner would be able to support the family farm. In addition, there was never an expectation that a spouse would be able to meet all of your needs. A personās well-being was more of a community effort; relying on family and friends and other things to support you. Over the years, the role and expectations of a spouse changed to be something greater. The idea that your spouse was your soul mate or that they completed you, placed high expectations on someone else to be all things for you. I would argue an unrealistic expectation. Iām not a marriage counsellor but I do believe that a happy marriage means that each partner must seek out other supports to be fulfilled. As well, the idea that your early days of romance and desire will remain constant throughout your life is also a very unrealistic expectation. This doesnāt mean that you have a lousy marriage or a less-than-ideal one, it means that things change and can change for the better as you mature.
I share that because I think there is something to be learned here that connects to well-being. Weāve known for a while about the Instagram-filtered world we live in where people only share a thin slice of their lives, often presenting an unrealistic and highly curated representation of life. Even when we understand this is happening, the messaging we hear from so many sources suggests that we must always be reaching for the stars and that being satisfied is seen as settling for less. You can and should be doing better. Expectations from not only our partners but our friends, our families our jobs and our passions are often glamourized and simply unattainable. Once again, I donāt doubt that many people struggle with mental health but for those who simply question all their choices and feel down about them, I wonder if they may be expecting too much. I worry that they are seeking some kind of perfection when not only do I not think thatās possible but I donāt think itās healthy.
My life is far from perfect. Iām certain my 60 years on this planet have taught me a few things. Contentment is often a misrepresented idea. I want for nothing. I also am grateful for an average Tuesday. A day where if I look at it objectively, nothing interesting happens. But in the routine of that day, I find moments of delight and joy and sit with them. They arenāt worth sharing with anyone but being able to reflect in the quiet and the loud and chaos that happen can remind you to be grateful. What many think of as a remarkable life misses out on the joys of being and living. The people I respect and admire arenāt people that are famous but ones like my nearly 93 year old father who wakes up everyday with a plan. The plan usually involves a game of cards, golf and coffee with a different friend each day. Over the years the activities may have changed but the purpose hasnāt. He has told me many times that heās lived an amazing life.
I have no idea if my sentiment here resonates with anyone or not and certainly if mental health and well-being is a struggle for you, please seek help. But if youāre not at that stage but you are less satisfied than youād like to be maybe itās you and the things you expect from others and the things around you.
Iāve been using this thinking device of late.