vividly remember when I was in 9th grade and faced the classic choice between science and art subjects. I chose science not because I fully understood it, but because I believed it was the best way to understand the world. My school didn’t even have a computer. In fact, no computer was available anywhere in my neighbourhood. Fast forward to today, my son is now in the 9th grade and lives in an entirely different educational ecosystem. He has access to a laptop, a tablet, a smartphone, high-speed internet, and, perhaps most transformative of all, artificial intelligence (AI) tools that support everything from schoolwork to creative projects.

What was a dream for my generation has become the baseline for his. We now live in a digital-first world, saturated with tools and devices. Last night, I met an undergraduate student studying data science. He spoke passionately about his field and introduced me to several AI tools he was already using both for his academic work and freelance gigs. What struck me most was his insightful observation: “Many students are merely experimenting with AI tools,” he said. “They don’t really understand the depth of what these tools can do.” His remark stayed with me.

The ways students approach learning have evolved dramatically. With just a few prompts, they can now generate summaries, notes and explanations using AI tools. If they prefer not to read, they can listen. If they want visuals, they can watch expertly produced lectures from renowned professors around the world. The options are abundant, far more than what was available even a decade ago. Physical books still sit on shelves, but digital content has largely taken over. In libraries and study spaces, students are more likely to be found behind screens than flipping pages. This shift isn’t necessarily negative, but it does challenge long-surviving norms of academic engagement.

The AI has significantly disrupted the academic landscape. Many teachers are still struggling with its swift expansion. As a university professor, I’ve had countless conversations with colleagues who are unsure, even uneasy, about the spread of these tools. Most worry that students are losing the ability to think critically and deeply. Not all their concerns are backed by hard data, at least not yet. In many cases, it is just a gut feeling. There have been a few cross-sectional studies, but we still lack substantial longitudinal data as it’s been just over two years since OpenAI introduced its first tool, ChatGPT. Meanwhile, some voices have grown loud in their warnings of the potential downsides of educational technologies (EdTech) for children. At an annual meeting of the Alliance for Responsible Citizenship, British actress Sophie Winkleman spoke candidly about the adverse effects of EdTech on students, pointing to Sweden’s decision to ban such technologies in schools as a cautionary example.

EdTech is opening up new dimensions of learning, offering tools like virtual and augmented reality that allow students to interact with objects and concepts in more immersive ways. These technologies are built to enhance understanding and engagement, but they come at a cost. Perhaps the greatest price we’ve paid is the decline in attention span and deep thinking. Some studies suggest that the average attention span has dropped from 11 seconds to just 8.

EdTech is opening up new dimensions of learning, offering tools like virtual and augmented reality that allow students to interact with objects and concepts in more immersive ways.

We now live in an age of constant distraction, where the very tools designed to help us learn often end up distracting our focus. Deep thinking is increasingly left to machines. The students tend to skim the surface and move on quickly. AI tools, now equipped with sophisticated reasoning capabilities, can generate complex outputs with minimal input. They even provide an explanation for their responses, creating a sense of depth.

What’s concerning is that even research scholars seem to be leaning too heavily on these tools, outsourcing the critical thinking that should be foundational to their work. The recent launch of Grok 4, branded as the “world’s smartest AI,” underscores this shift. It claims to excel at PhD-level examinations and surpass competitors like Google’s Gemini and OpenAI’s o3 in rigorous benchmarks. The race to build the ultimate AI is intense. The academia is caught in the middle of this hypercompetitive environment.

This rapid pace of change is leading to widespread confusion and scepticism in academia. Decision-makers, board members and policymakers find themselves overwhelmed, as the pace of innovation continues to outstrip their ability to respond promptly. Nearly every academic programme is eager to incorporate AI elements to attract students, many of whom are already exploring AI through self-guided learning and online resources.

Academia is experiencing disruptive times. Simultaneously, the changing employment landscape is creating a sense of turbulence in the academic environment. The industry now values hands-on ability more than academic credentials. Traditional degrees are gradually losing their value. Technopreneurs—both for-profit and non-profit—are offering skill-building programmes that often rival, if not surpass formal education. The teachers are aware and wary of this shift.

Faced with this tidal wave, many teachers have entered a survival mode. The instinct to adapt is deeply human after all. Publishers are revising submission guidelines, educators are rethinking how they assess learning and regulatory bodies are scrambling to create policies that can keep up. The responses are more gradual than abrupt. Senior faculty, many of whom received their education before the AI era, continue to exert influence, making a complete paradigm shift a gradual and challenging process. Each new AI feature brings louder claims from developers about the obsolescence of more fields—coding, data analysis, content creation; even engineering design. Young learners, influenced by the relentless promotion of AI, are increasingly convinced that real learning lies beyond the traditional classroom, as digital content continues to outpace formal instruction.

The undergraduate student I have mentioned bluntly stated, “We have to take advantage of the technology.” The old folks don’t know much about it.” Times are changing, and academia must adapt quickly. While conversations around AI are happening, they often lack the momentum seen in the corporate world, where tech companies are actively shaping the future of education.

My son, for instance, is aware of advanced agentic models and how easily they can accomplish complex tasks. Yet in his school, no one is guiding him on how to balance the use of AI with developing his own mental abilities. This is where teachers and mentor face one of their greatest challenges: ensuring that students not only use AI tools effectively but also understand the importance of nurturing their own thinking to solve real-world problems.

The writer is a faculty member of Department of Engineering Management at the National University of Science and Technology