The introduction of AI into schools has sparked a new wave of moral panic reminiscent of the uproar surrounding other technologies in recent decades. As someone raised during the ’90s and early 2000s, I’ve lived through these cycles of fear and adaptation and it looks awfully similar to what was being said back then. Each time, there’s been widespread concern: “Will this new tool harm society?”, “Will it destroy industries?”, “Will it disconnect us from what truly matters?” and everyone’s favourite: “What about the children!?”
These questions are not new. From the internet to social media, from calculators to mobile devices, from DVDs to streaming services; every innovation has faced its moment of reckoning. Yet, history tells us that while change can disrupt, it also creates many new and exciting opportunities, IF we embrace it wisely.
Growing up, I was part of the generation that saw the internet move from an expensive novelty to an everyday necessity. I remember video games and MSN Messenger being a staple of my teenage years. It wasn’t just a platform; it was a lifeline. I would spend hours chatting with friends, organising real-life meet ups, and even (I know, scary fact…) connecting with strangers from other parts of the country(remember the meaning of asl?), and even the world. It was exhilarating, but it didn’t replace my real-world friendships; it enhanced them. I learned new languages and developed others, communicating in Dutch, English and French dependent on the online community I was connecting with. Meeting friends in person was still a priority, but MSN allowed us to stay connected in between. It was the best of both worlds, a tool that bridged physical distance and allowed communication at times, we, the teenager, were supposed to be doing our homework. All this without eroding the importance of face-to-face relationships.
Of course, the internet wasn’t just about communication. It was a gateway to knowledge and new, previously hard to come by information. By the time the new millennium hit, amidst the Y2K panic that had everyone worried computers would crash, I began further exploring the boundless possibilities of this digital landscape. Platforms like Napster and Kazaa emerged, revolutionising how we accessed music and files in general. At the time, using these platforms wasn’t about malicious intent or piracy; it was about convenience. For someone like me, it opened up a world of songs that weren’t available in local stores, and gave me the opportunity to listen to a single song without the need to convince my parents to buy the entire album at a premium price. Sure, it disrupted the music industry, and yes, it was technically very illegal, but it also laid the groundwork for legitimate services like iTunes and later Spotify. The minute the iPod exploded onto the scene, everyone looked at music and digital files differently. Steve Job’s presentation, in which he shared that you could now fit 1000 songs in your pocket, is still to this day, an excellent example of explaining ‘the why’ and selling a product, all at once, without being a salesly sounding person!
This revolution wasn’t limited to music. I vividly remember downloading movies like the first Shrek movie, The Fast and the Furious, and Scary Movie. My friends and I would spend hours waiting for the Limewire download to complete, only to realise the files were grainy camcorder recordings from dodgy cinemas somewhere in the world. More than one even had random people’s heads blocking part of the screen. Did I still watch them? Yes. Did I want to own the proper DVDs after seeing them? Absolutely. I ended up buying those movies because I wanted the better experience they promised. Over time our VHS collection grew smaller and the DVDs were being added to my shelves at a record pace. The Playstation 2 made it all the better as it was not only THE BEST console at that time, but also the only reason I now had a DVD player! And to this day Sony holds a special place in my heart because of growing up with this console. That era taught me that while technology could provide a shortcut, there was still immense value in doing things the right way; whether that was purchasing movies, supporting creators online, or building something meaningful from scratch. In more recent years we saw this with platforms such as YouTube where initially I put up with the ads, after which the ad blockers became all the rage, only to sign up for YouTube Red(Now YouTube Premium) when it came out and supporting the platform I spend so much time on, as well as the people who make it a success.
Around the same time, I began exploring coding. The internet wasn’t just a place to consume; it was a place to create. I dabbled in Pascal, discovered Visual Basic and made my first programs, learned HTML, CSS and JavaScript, and started creating my own websites full of Gifs! I wanted to learn how things worked behind the screen. It wasn’t just curiosity, it was empowerment. But even as I immersed myself in this digital world, I never abandoned the tactile joy of books. I’d turn to paperbacks and hardcovers for deep dives into the latest video games, had a subscription to ‘Power Unlimited’ to learn about the latest games coming out, and would use thick textbooks to find code snippets to make my websites look better. I was, and still am, an avid reader of fantasy and sci-fi books, and continued to use the internet to supplement my learning, not replace it. To this day, I still prefer the feel of paper in my hands over the cold glass of an e-reader. Books ground me, reminding me that while technology evolves, some experiences remain timeless.
Fast forward to today, and we’re facing similar questions with AI. Will AI replace teachers? Will it harm the teacher-student relationship? Will it widen educational inequalities? Will AI destroy our society and how it functions? These concerns mirror the fears we’ve had about every major technological shift. When DVDs replaced VHS tapes, we worried about the death of rental shops, and yes, jobs were lost. But new industries emerged. Streaming services like Netflix and Disney+ created jobs that didn’t exist before. Technology closed some doors, but it opened others.
The same is true for education. AI is not here to replace teachers; it’s a tool to enhance their work. It can streamline administrative tasks, personalise learning experiences, and support students in ways that were previously impossible. But, like every other technology, its impact depends on how we use it. If we allow AI to become a crutch, over-relying on it at the expense of human interaction, it could harm education. But if we use it thoughtfully, it can be a catalyst for deeper learning and creativity. Think about the potential of a personal tutors for all, a personal assistant for every teacher, and a Pedagogical expert ready to answer parents with any questions they may have.
I think back to my own experiences with technology. Social media and messaging tools like MSN didn’t replace my real-world friendships;, they supplemented them. Coding didn’t make me less curious about the physical world; it made me more eager to understand how things worked. The internet didn’t stop me from opening a book; it led me to new topics and ideas that I then explored in greater depth offline.
Yes, moral panic is a natural response to change. And yes, some fears have been, and are indeed justified. Social media, for instance, has had its darker sides, from cyberbullying to misinformation. However, the same tools have also connected people in meaningful ways, provided platforms for social justice movements, and democratised access to information. It’s always a balance, and it always comes down to how we choose to engage with these tools. More recently, we’ve seen the fallout over TikTok and the shutdown/relaunch of the platform. Lots of uncertainty and back and forth over what is essentially a tool. A tool? That yes, may or may not harvest a lot of user data and use this to feed its algorithms. But at its core no different from Facebook, YouTube, or any Search engine doing the same.
Looking back, I see the same patterns repeating with AI. The fear of disruption is valid. AI will change the way we live, teach and learn. But if history has taught us anything, it’s that we are adaptable. We’ve seen this with music, movies, social media, and even books. The printing press, after all, was once seen as a threat to oral tradition. It would destroy the way our society communicates and shares information, and indeed it has, it has changed! I would argue, it changed the world for the better, it revolutionised knowledge-sharing and transformed societies. But then again, who am I?
As we integrate AI into schools, we need to focus on what matters most: maintaining human connection, fostering curiosity, and ensuring technology serves us, not the other way around. We must teach students to use these tools responsibly and critically, just as we’ve learned to navigate social media, the video games industry, and the internet.
For me, books remain a symbol of this balance.They remind us that while technology can enhance our lives, it’s the human experience, the feel of a page, the connection of a conversation, the spark of curiosity; these are the things that make life meaningful. The same will hold true for AI. It’s not about replacing what we value but about finding new ways to support and enrich it.
The moral panic will pass, just as it always does. A new panic will emerge and be at the forefront of everyone’s thoughts. And when it does, we’ll see AI not as a threat but as a tool. One that, like the internet, social media, and streaming before it, has the potential to transform our lives for the better. And remember when AI is really fully integrated and working as intended, we’ll simply call it Software. Software we use, update, talk about and take for granted.