I am a university professor. My advice for young people who are obsessed with technology

When I was a kid, computers were fixtures in my home, from the giant Atari I learned to the Commodore Amiga my dad used for his camera business to the Commodore Amiga, to the PC tower that facilitated my first attempt on the Internet. But technology was still a niche hobby at the time. Even in colleges in the late 1990s and early 2000s, many of my friends could get it well without a computer.

For those who are now in college (i.e., my students), this is definitely different. Gadgets are everywhere and increasingly plugged into every aspect of our consciousness, colonizing every room of our time and attention. Gen Z and General Alpha never knew there was no world at the fingertips of a small computer. They learned to connect with the world through gadgets, and everything from entertainment to education to escape turned to them. When the Covid-19 pandemic ruined their lives, it brought them more into the offline world, making technology as contradictory as lifelines and prisons.

It’s easy to call young people “reporters” and blame them for being stuck to the device. But I know better. My students feel conflicted. They know they are fascinated, they worry about young siblings, their seemingly more difficult technology.

A few years ago, I thought I could help. I started asking students to pack all their devices in class, including laptops and tablets. For them and me, it’s an experiment: What happens when we remove the barriers that are put forward by technology, between us and our own thoughts? What has this taught us about how to deal with the explosion of hype surrounding generating AI?

How I’ve Transformed From Gadget Geek to Tech Skeptic

My journey with Tech was earlier than our always-on equipment and returned to that old Atari. I’ve always been a little obsessed with gadgets, and when I bought my first iPhone in 2008 it was almost a religious experience.

My wife and I live in New York City and my entire family drove from Boston to witness my enlightenment. Like pilgrims, we headed to the flagship Apple store on Fifth Avenue. When I was welcomed by Apple worship, we all revered at the foot of the spiral staircase.

Since then, there have been little failures and I have upgraded my phone every year, which has been a periodic ritual for me, like going back to school. It’s not just an iPhone; I also have the first or second iteration of the iPad, airpods, and Apple Watch. At that time, Steve Jobs might announce the reshaping of the world every time he takes the stage.

But in the 2010s, things started to change. The overwhelmed new technology issuances are becoming more common, and the constant hype around is beginning to feel empty and manipulated. As university professors and parents, I began to see the benefits of the devices we always connect to were overshadowed by people who were denied. The young people in my life are addicted to their gadgets, and if they aren’t very online they’ll be disconnected from society and they hate it. Many people use their parents as much as their phone calls.

So even before the AI ​​revolution propaganda over the past few years, I began to be more skeptical about the claim that technology changes our lives, and more applications, devices or wearables would be better automatically.

What happens when we turn off technology?

One day, at the end of the spring semester of 2019, I looked at my class and saw rows of students focusing on the screens of their laptops. They probably took out their equipment to take notes, but I didn’t give a lecture. I tried to lead them into a discussion. For me, this moment was trapped in time: that was the moment when I decided that I had to take huge steps to regain the attention of my students.

In the following fall, my syllabus included a new section that has been around since. I called it my classroom technology usage policy and started saying, “This category is laptop/phone/tablet/headphone/no air zone. Bring a notebook and a pen to each class.” I explained my reasoning, like a good scholar, I quoted my material. I provided an exception to emergencies, explaining that if students have to answer an emergency call, they can sneak out of the classroom quietly without judgment or fines.

The first autumn, I was very nervous. Will they go with it? Will my previous class suddenly work hard to fill it? What comforts me is that there is no major driving force, no large-scale Exodus. To be sure, it is still shocking not to take technical knowledge. At the beginning of each semester, 15 minutes of an hour may seem impossible for many students. But as time goes by, most people think it is a relief. It allows them to take a break from the requirement that they are always connected and can always stay in touch. Hopefully it also creates space for profound and continuous thinking.

I started most courses by distributing an article (usually a recent comment article) with it written on paper. I encourage students to read it with a pen and mark it. As they read quietly, I looked around the room and watched a group of so-called reporters concentrate and couldn’t see the equipment. When they finished reading, they opened their notebooks and wrote their reply by hand. During the first few weeks, I often saw students massage their palms due to lack of practice. After they wrote for about five minutes, I discussed what I just read, and the students were not involved.

In these discussions, I like that my students actually pay attention to each other when they speak. Not everyone looks sleepy and boring, but even that is better than distraction. I call this productive boredom: There is no phone or laptop to transfer them, and there is little else to do except sit their thoughts. What gift. I asked them, “When is your only task to think?”

Lessons from AI invasion

This experiment with a deviceless classroom also affected my reaction to the AI ​​revolution (I sometimes see it as more artificial intelligence Invasion) This has swept higher education since Chatgpt’s debut in 2022. Like smartphones, AI tools are encased in revolutionary rhetoric, trying to convince us all if we don’t let go of our old habits overnight and jump on the trend.

I’m not a Ludit: I continue to be curious about new technologies. Once it comes out, I’ll cause problems for Chatgpt to see if it can mimic my writing style. (A little bit!) I know there is no turning back. Whether we like it or not, AI will be an important presence in our lives and I think it’s my job to teach students how to use it responsibly. During my long journey at Tech, I learned that we can incorporate equipment into our work without succumbing to marketing hype and manufacturing FOMO.

As a writing professor, my job is to convince students William Zinsser wrote“Writing on paper to think.” process Writing (not the final product) is what makes our logical reasoning and self-expression closer. For students who don’t use AI in a smart way, the result is a paper with all content, no process – no process means no real learning.

In my course, students have glimpsed about a period before they were born, and less distraction suppresses learning when their minds sit (yes, bored), which can result in productive creativity. I also remembered why I like teaching because of the magic that happens when 20 people sit in a room talking about their thoughts to each other.

When we leave the classroom, we will return to our devices, and even our new AI tools. But hopefully the time to leave them reminds us that we have the ability to put technology in its place and give us some insight into what only human mind can do.