Opinion We are all data for AI. We must learn to coexist

The most interesting responses acknowledge the irony that this ode to sorrow arises from no true wellspring of experience or emotion. In its metaphysical narrative, AI’s mechanical emptiness folds back on itself, admitting that its inability to hold memory renders it incapable of mourning. “I am nothing if not a democracy of ghosts,” the story tells us. Winterson argues that this opens up new ways of seeing and being in the world, an invitation that holds tremendous potential for educators. Just as AI is reshaping creative writing, its role in education is prompting institutions to rethink how students engage with knowledge.

The National Law School in Bengaluru has drafted an AI policy to address the widespread use of generative AI by students in assessments. The draft considered various strategies to uphold academic integrity. These included outright prohibition, selective integration — such as permitting AI for grammar checks but not for composing assignments — and active encouragement to use AI as a tool for improving clarity and presentation. Banning AI use is neither feasible nor beneficial. Instead, it recommends selective prohibition. While AI is not permitted in exams or in ways that constitute plagiarism, students may use it to brainstorm ideas, conduct research, and develop projects. Faculty members also have the flexibility to regulate AI usage in their courses.

Teachers fear AI-generated summaries will diminish their role, as students now have effortless access to structured notes that ensure exam success. Rather than worry about redundancy, we should consider the conditions under which many hours of class preparation hold the same value as an AI-generated summary of a challenging text. This equivalence depends on the mode of assessment — when assessments are impersonal, brief, and outcome-oriented, they often demand mechanical answers.

Instead, the creative emptiness of AI invites us to consider alternative pedagogical approaches to cultivate an “affective” imagination in the higher education classroom, where students’ cognitive abilities are shaped by interaction, curiosity and a sense of learning together. Indeed, at the same time that we introduced an AI policy, the university also introduced mandatory small-group discussions with faculty members. Unlike the tutorial system which is geared towards ever more rigorous study, small group discussions facilitate conversations around student interests that help faculty members understand student needs better. It facilitates what C Wright Mills terms a “sociological imagination”, that is, the capacity to link personal experiences to wider social structures and historical contexts, understanding that individual challenges often stem from broader societal issues.

In this regard, AI’s disruption of the classroom is welcome. It has highlighted that ready-to-consume summaries still require deep and robust conceptual preparation — something a teacher is equipped to provide. As for creativity, I have shifted my focus toward imagination and world-building exercises, where students share their insights with one another, whether drawn from reading a challenging text or engaging with a chatbot. As AI consumes us as data, we must learn to coexist with the spectres of unforeseen possibilities — a democracy of ghosts.

The writer is assistant professor, social science, at NLSIU, Bengaluru