November 8 - February 6, 2024 EDITOR: Noah Lyons • opinion@thedailyaztec.com
Opinion
The Daily Aztec
9
The Humanities do not need AI The latest trend of generative AI poses a great threat to the humanities and liberal arts fields of university By Christopher Ritter STAFF WRITER
If, like me, you gave a cursory glance at your emails in the last month or so, you would have seen a survey from San Diego State University’s Information Technology Division inquiring about “AI in the classroom.” Whether it’s the infamous ChatGPT or a number of other generative AI, you’ve definitely heard about at least one of these programs. In an even greater likelihood, you may know someone personally who has used it. Perhaps even you yourself have done so.
It is perfectly adequate to have AI as a tool in the classroom for computer scientists, engineers, mathematicians, statisticians and all STEM majors alike. The disciplines are there as a way to expand reasoning and grasp what was previously unreal. On the other hand, the goal of the humanities should obviously lie in a creative product — an expression of some parts of the human condition. For this, I find AI’s role enabling laziness rather than achieving creative expression.
Of course, creative processes exist in other fields outside the humanities. However, the humanities are particularly susceptible to the negative aspects of AI. As David Foster Wallace put it in his “This is Water” speech, “(A) liberal arts education is not so much about filling you up with knowledge as it is about ‘teaching you how to think.’” Imagine a Nobel Prize winner for rocket science laying claim to some assistance with AI alongside an author for a prize in literature whose work credits ChatGPT in the liner notes. The author would be decidedly met with more scorn and derision. AI’s most fervent supporters prioritize generative machines over the inefficient lecturer. For example, burgeoning technology displays historical avatars like Plato, presenting their ideas in watered-down, text-to-video formats to appease the younger TikTok-addled generation. Rapidly declining attention spans are seen as marketing opportunities rather than a gross reduction in the cognitive abilities of students. Why support a tutor or engage with your school’s own resources when you can consult an AI online? Why bother engaging with your own comprehension of a particular subject for a paper when
ChatGPT can spit it out hot off the press for submission? Why bother with the intimacy of mentorship with a professor when all the answers clearly lie in the regurgitating gullet of AI? Why do the work when AI can do it “for” you? We are in a bureaucratic hell of educational standards where students are discouraged from doing their own work for the majors they signed up for. I can understand some defiance to the various required GEs that a student may have absolutely zero interest in. But, college is the average person’s first great exposure to all things included in life and the world. If college were to be only the job skills, preparations and qualifications — merely a position to be handed off at the graduation date, and nothing more — would not we retitle this expectation as a failure to know what vocational training is? College is, and has always been, a way for people to become well-rounded and well-adjusted. A way to pursue not just what interests you but what may or “may” interest you. When the climb toward a meaningful education is reduced to the goal of a substantive paycheck, all steps irrespective of capital gains will diminish over time. AI’s ability to ease the mundanity of the process can never account for accurately depicting human expression or character.
Illustration by Emily Augustine
I dropped out of my study abroad program, I don’t regret it I received the most out of French culture through saying ‘yes’ to experience rather than academics. By Michelle Armas STAFF WRITER
My summer in Paris left an impression on my mind that I can still feel, but can’t put my finger on. It was as if I entered one of Monet’s paintings — half dreamlike, half fading away. Most of all, it was an impression I would never have gotten inside the four walls of a classroom. I studied French at a university in Paris for two months over the summer. With one week left of my study abroad program, I dropped out. My time in Paris gleaned of novelty. Sitting in a classroom was something I had known since I was five years old, but the Parisian life was something I couldn’t experience from a textbook. My days felt like a scrapbook collage of moments. Some consisted of sticky summer days in cafes, sipping espresso; others were getting lost in the city, exploring famous museums where Van Goghs and Monets resided. It wasn’t in a classroom where I shoved my way into the sweaty metro during rush hour or where I learned the French colloquialisms. And it wasn’t in a classroom where I applied this new language with unforgiving, angry Parisians. Don’t get me wrong, I loved being a student — it gave me a purpose to go to
France. But it was only one tiny sliver of my silver summer. Another part of the immersive experience I had was due to a friend I met from the South of France. Throughout the program, he introduced me to France from a local lens. The last week of summer he invited me to spend a week with his family in a town called Avignon. It seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity — taking the train around the Cote d’Azur and going to a city I would never have gone to if left to my own devices. But this meant I had to miss the final exam. As I sat in my tiny room, looking at the train ticket, uneasy thoughts trickled in. Since kindergarten, I was conditioned to think the only thing that mattered was the grade. “What will everyone think of me? I must be a lousy student. Maybe I am not a hard worker.” The feelings of unworthiness binded my gut like clothespins. However, a part of me knew that these thoughts were a product of our education system. I was a product of an institution that told me grades define learning. Those red marks on my papers haunted me. I had a flashback of lying about my high school SAT and ACT scores so that I didn’t have to admit how horrible I did on them. At this moment, I had a choice. I could
fall victim to the flaws of our education system or take advantage of an opportunity I might never get again. I reminded myself of one of my life mottos: What will I remember in 10 years? And so I did it. I bought the ticket, went to an obscure medieval town, and spent a week with a French family. I tried their favorite southern wines and cheeses and swam in the Mediterranean. I turned bright red when I tried to communicate, but got more comfortable as time went on. Yes, I missed an important exam and didn’t receive credit for a costly class, but I wouldn’t have traded that week for anything. But most of all, I broke a paradigm. I broke my fear of breaking out of the norm. I did the “what-if” that I always wondered about. I chose to follow my intuition, and through that, I realized my identity didn’t lie in being a perfect student, but rather embracing every opportunity.
The Cafe Benjamin sign lit up at night in Paris on July 11, 2023. Photo courtesy of Michelle Armas
People eating dinner during sunset at Cafe Hugo in Paris on June 6, 2023. Photo courtesy of Michelle Armas
