By Matthew Shoults, Headmaster
I recently found myself in something of a confessional. Chairing a meeting of fellow head teachers, discussing AI and learning, I admitted that while I was an afficionado of traditional Ordnance Survey maps, I had more recently found myself reaching for the OS App on my phone when engulfed in clouds in the Highlands. Although fairly confident with map and compass in zero visibility, I was nevertheless glad to reach for a little extra reassurance to get myself back to terra firma.
The topic arose because we were looking at the risk that, with AI making it easier to accelerate certain knowledge and skills, learning might not have the same sense of challenge or “bite”. It is important that the tasks we set students evolve to take into account the tools at their disposal: we must either use conditions in which they can’t actually use those tools, or change the nature of the task to be more relevant and demanding to evolving technology.
What was interesting is that the discussion widened out into a much bigger question: what is the purpose of education? Alongside wrestling with whether classroom teaching now needs more of a focus on deploying technology rather than acquiring knowledge per se, what else should an education be for?
For the Victorians, some wider areas of education were seen as having particular aims. The playing fields of England at the major boarding schools were there to prepare young men with the character and soul to be useful in public life and to run the Empire. Musical accomplishment for young women was to make them cultured and appealing companions and wives. However, over a hundred years later, these co-curricular pursuits matter just as much, if not for world domination or social polish.
One reason is purely mercantile. Employers are looking for graduates with a whole range of skills, both intellectual and interpersonal. Lessons of course develop some of these. But wider activities can develop so many more, testing teamwork, leadership, tenacity, self-belief, initiative and communication. It is for this reason that a Head of Careers at a leading university said to me: “Intellectually able students should study a subject they enjoy at a good university; and, equally importantly, lead an interesting extra-curricular life”. It is noticeable that US universities place a high premium on the broader interests and skills of applicants for their places.
The second reason responds to the more holistic purpose of education, to help young people realise who they are. The interest they pursue outside the classroom may of course turn out to be a profession they wish to pursue, whether in music, drama or sport; through taking a Young Enterprise programme they may discover a passion for business. But it will also help them gain a sense of identity, and give them skills and experiences which will help them derive confidence, and the ability to build friendships and relationships now and in the future. This surely is something which we would want to provide for all young people.
Whether for this wider benefit, or for the more financial reasons, these hobbies and activities need to involve challenge, in order to provide personal development and also a sense of reward. It is the sense of struggle which provides growth. Seeing students on Duke of Edinburgh expeditions is fascinating and inspiring: in a short expedition they don’t just walk, camp and cook: they wrestle with navigation, learn endurance through aching limbs, discover how they fit into teams, and spend invaluable time together.
This does not mean that the struggle has to involve a Luddite refusal to involve technology (although traditional map reading is peculiarly good at developing a whole range of wider skills). Indeed, AI and other technology can help with the struggle. But it is equally important to keep looking for the chance to stretch students, outside the classroom as much as inside it, and to value deeply the benefits of these experiences.