Digital push, especially in the classroom, reveals cracks in access and empathy

One need not wonder why such a project has been undertaken in the name of experimentation. Digital technology has come to occupy so central a place in the imagination of educational planners that they can no longer perceive what all its force can damage in an already fragile systemic environment. From pre-school to university, digital solutions are reshaping every nook and corner of the lives of teachers. They are the core functionaries of any system of education. Their job in our country is going under a silently moving landslide. How it hurts their professional capacity and autonomy — both are already very limited, thanks to obsolete training practices — is not even noticed or documented.

The second story covered by this paper is about a pension portal meant for army veterans. Named SPARSH — System for Pension Administration Raksha — it is supposed to facilitate army veterans’ access to their pension. The cases reported in the story suggest that for many users, the portal is proving difficult to manage. The precise details it demands are not easy to fill in. The report talks about the problems of connectivity and speed that are common in rural areas where many retired army personnel reside. Then there are other demands the portal makes that defy comfortable compliance.

This story is not all that different from what admission seekers to colleges and universities experience. They are young and many among them have considerable capacity to use digital technology. Yet, they struggle with the demands that the new centralised admission process makes. They first go through a “multiple choice questions”-based competitive test, then face the maze of choices among courses and institutions which their rank makes them eligible for. Listening to their travails leaves you in no doubt that we are witnessing a bizarre, unanticipated bump in the history of our higher education system. Session after session, the digitally managed centralised process of competition and admission has proved wasteful — in terms of time and effort. It is hardly possible to justify this loss as an “inevitable teething trouble”. More obviously, it is part of a general obsession with digital efficiency. It is driving institutions into a corner where they surrender to a sense that they have no choice. This is quite the opposite of the ideology they profess — that digital technology offers unlimited opportunities.

Its latest avatar — artificial intelligence — is similarly perceived within a set frame. Unavoidability is the underlying assumption of this frame. A considerable amount of historical illiteracy is a part of its hype. Hardly anyone seems to remember now that artificial intelligence was an essential part of robotics from the latter’s beginning more than a century ago. Many eminent littérateurs and philosophers warned humanity about the risks of adapting to the lure of artificial intelligence. Today when we feel so ready to apply it in every field, we tend to minimise the harm we can expect it to do in several areas of social life, particularly education.

The idea of teaching as a means to encourage learning is incompatible with artificial intelligence. This is because teaching is a relational activity, its success being dependent on the student’s sense of a human bond with the teacher. Such a sense is crucial for learning in early stages of education. Interactive smart boards and exposure to virtual reality can only destroy little children’s innate search for bonding with their teacher. Of course they will feel excited while using AI equipment, but the psychological ill effects will not take long to manifest.

The writer is former NCERT director and the author of The Child’s Language and The Teacher and Padhna, Zara Sochna