Artificial Intelligence has begun to seep into every corner of our lives, and education is no exception. From AI tutors that solve math problems instantly to apps that can draft essays or even generate science projects, the tools are powerful, and the temptation to use them is real. For schools already burdened by large class sizes and examination pressures, AI promises quick solutions. For parents anxious about marks, it offers instant improvement. For students, it has the seductive allure of instant answers.
But herein lies the danger.
Our education system already leans heavily towards marks as the primary measure of success. In such an environment, critical thinking, patience, and the ability to stay with a problem until it yields—qualities that build real character—are often the first casualties. If we add AI’s culture of instant gratification to this mix, we risk deepening the imbalance. Children may learn to expect life itself to deliver immediate solutions, without the struggle that shapes resilience.
I recall a student who once came to me with a math puzzle that had stumped him. He sat with it for several days, wrestling with patterns and testing ideas. When he finally solved it, the glow on his face was unforgettable. That joy was not just about getting the right answer—it was about discovering the power of persistence. Now imagine the same child with access to an AI app. He could have scanned the question, received the solution in under ten seconds, and moved on. No wrestling, no frustration, but also no growth.
Where AI Is Already in Classrooms
Children today are experimenting with AI in ways teachers and parents sometimes don’t even realize. In India’s coaching-driven cities like Kota or Hyderabad, students use apps such as ChatGPT or Photomath to instantly solve JEE and NEET practice problems. Many write essays for English assignments with AI prompts, or use translation tools to complete language homework. Teachers, too, are quietly relying on AI—using it to generate lesson plans, create worksheets, or even design multiple-choice questions at scale.
In wealthier private schools, AI is being marketed as “personalized learning.” Adaptive apps analyze a child’s performance and serve up exercises tailored to their weaknesses. Some schools abroad are already piloting AI “teaching assistants” that answer student doubts instantly during class. On the surface, these seem like time-savers. But the question remains—what do students lose when learning becomes frictionless?
AI delivers answers. But education is not about answers; it is about building the capacity to live with questions.
Where AI Helps
There are contexts where AI is undeniably useful. A child struggling with the basics of grammar can practice endlessly with an AI tutor without feeling embarrassed. A student in a rural area, with limited access to quality teachers, can receive explanations of math concepts that otherwise might never be clarified. For teachers drowning in administrative work, AI tools that prepare quizzes or summarize readings can save precious time—time that can then be spent in face-to-face discussions with students.
In these cases, AI acts as a supportive assistant, not a replacement for thinking. It levels the playing field, offering help where resources are scarce. For students with learning disabilities, AI-powered tools can provide adaptive strategies that human teachers may not always have the bandwidth for. Used this way, AI enhances equity and inclusion.
Where AI Harms
The harm begins when AI is used not as a helper but as a shortcut. When students turn to AI for every homework assignment, they skip the process of grappling with material. When they use AI to generate essays, they lose the chance to struggle with words, structure, and expression—the very struggle that builds voice and clarity. When AI instantly solves a math problem, the child learns the solution but misses the joy of discovery.
Teachers, too, can fall into dependency. If AI creates lesson plans every day, the personal touch of teaching—the creative spark, the tailoring to one’s own students—is gradually lost. If assessment becomes automated, feedback risks becoming impersonal. In a country like India, where education is already criticized for being mechanized, AI could accelerate that drift.
When we measure education only in marks, we encourage shortcuts. When we value resilience, curiosity, and effort, we teach children to become whole human beings.
How to Use AI Safely
Given that AI is inevitable, the question is not whether we should allow it, but how. The first principle must be age-appropriateness. Young children, whose minds are still learning patience and persistence, should not be handed AI as a crutch. These are the years to sit with uncertainty, to make mistakes, to erase and try again.
For older students, AI can be integrated with transparency and guidance. For instance, a history teacher may allow AI to generate multiple interpretations of an event—but then ask students to critique those interpretations, compare them with their own readings, and highlight biases. In math, AI might suggest several ways to solve a problem, but the student must explain which method feels most logical and why. In writing, AI can be used to brainstorm ideas, but the essay must still carry the student’s own voice.
Parents can help by setting norms at home. Encourage children to attempt problems independently first, before seeking AI’s help. Treat AI as the last resort, not the first. Much like we don’t hand calculators to Class 2 students learning addition, we must be thoughtful about when children are developmentally ready for AI.
There is also value in creating deliberate “AI-free zones.” Classrooms or homework sessions where no digital help is allowed. These are laboratories of grit, places where the only tools are the child’s mind, a notebook, and time. Without these protected spaces, AI risks flooding every corner of learning.
And at the societal level, we must reflect on what we reward. If schools continue to value only marks, AI will be weaponized as a mark-boosting machine. If we begin to celebrate problem-solving, resilience, and creativity, then AI can be framed as a tool for exploration, not escape.The Balance Ahead
AI in education is inevitable, yes. But inevitability does not mean surrender. Just as we regulate food for children—not denying them sugar entirely, but controlling its timing and quantity—we must regulate AI. Too early, too often, and it becomes addictive. Used wisely, at the right stage, it can expand horizons without collapsing the foundation.
The future will undoubtedly bring classrooms where AI is as common as textbooks. But the measure of success will not be how quickly students can get answers. It will be whether they can still pause, reflect, question, and endure the silence of uncertainty. For it is in that silence that wisdom grows.