Beauty is in the AI of the beholder

It is no substitute for real skills

AMONG recent innovations, none has sparked more debate on their merits as artificial intelligence (AI).

As its application in various fields rapidly picks up, so does concern about its ethical implications and impact on human cognitive development.

As a journalist with a technical background, I often find myself reflecting on these issues while drawing from my educational experience.

Some claim AI has rendered writing skills and English proficiency − both vital to succeed in academia and the working world − obsolete.

AI, specifically the generative kind, they argue, has allowed us to relegate related tasks to machines and automation.

But such simplistic takes fail to recognise the role writing and language mastery play in helping one absorb, process and communicate information.

When I was 13 and about to start secondary school, I found out that students could use a calculator during Mathematics lessons and tests.

I thought, surely the subject would be a cakewalk now that we had access to a calculator.

I could not be more wrong.

Calculators, I soon found, were just a tool that students needed to perform more advanced calculations.

Although helpful in some situations, we still had to develop a strong grasp of concepts if we were to use it correctly.

Without sound understanding of the fundamentals, students would struggle with topics such as quadratic equations and trigonometry.

Much like how calculators influenced the way students approach their studies, AI too might transform the way we approach learning.

I see parallels with my experience studying for my chemical and biological engineering degree and masters in the United Kingdom.

I spent the initial years of my tertiary studies learning about some complicated calculations involving chemical equipment and processes.

In the final year, however, students were introduced to a software that enabled us to run simulations simply by keying in the desired input and output, thus eliminating the need to perform those calculations.

A few of my coursemates joked that we wasted several years learning about calculations we would no longer be doing.

But my lecturer, who was also head of the chemical and biological engineering department, offered a different perspective.

“If all it takes to operate a chemical plant is to run a simulation, then a technician can do that,” he said.

“What makes you an engineer is your ability to interpret the numbers and explain the reasons behind them.”

This, he stressed, allowed engineers to better appreciate the processes involved and troubleshoot problems if they arose.

After finishing my degree, I commenced my masters programme during which I had to write a literature review, a prerequisite before starting my research project.

A literature review is a critical summary and analysis of an existing body of knowledge on specific academic subjects.

I pored over lots of research papers and stumbled upon plenty of information.

Much of the information did not make the cut for my report, but was nonetheless crucial in helping me form a comprehensive understanding of the topic.

Writing the report, I also had to assess which details to include and which to leave out.

This took weeks as I had to go over the draft with my academic supervisor many times and, occasionally, defend it against her scrutiny.

Had I automated this process using AI, I would not have learned as much, as I would have bypassed the painstaking step of gathering, analysing and presenting the information, and in so doing become prone to mistakes.

This is not to say I am against using AI. Just like calculators, it might come in handy in one’s studies and work.

However, it should not be treated like a substitute for real skills.

In the hands of someone with proper skills and training, its potential can be harnessed to achieve something meaningful.

But in the hands of someone looking for a shortcut, it is just a mindless robot.