On Writing Towards Progress

The upcoming release of Lee, Kate Winslet’s film about photographer Lee Miller, got me thinking about how much has changed for women in the past century. And how little.

Lee Miller was one of four women photojournalists accredited by the United States armed forces in World War II. Among the many striking images she created, Miller photographed the liberation of Buchenwald and Dachau: indelible evidence of Nazi atrocities.

She was one of four women allowed to shoot the war.

The issue of Vogue with Winslet on the cover, promoting Lee, also featured a profile of Karine Jean-Pierre, the first Black person and first openly gay person to hold the post of US Press Secretary.

Why, a quarter of the way through the 21st century, are we still tallying firsts?

Progress, such as it is, is non-linear, unpredictable and subject to reversal.

In 1997, I started my BA at University of Pennsylvania.

It was only the 64th year in the university’s 257-year history that women were allowed access to a full-time, four-year undergraduate degree program. 

In 1998, I became a Daily Pennsylvanian reporter. The first woman permitted to join the illustrious school newspaper did so in 1962. Her name was Sharon Lee Ribner. Ms Ribner (later Mrs Schlagel) had a long, successful career in journalism. She passed away in 2022.

It boggles my mind that my opportunity to become a journalist hung on the balance of 35 years. And that the pioneering female journalist at Penn and I shared a lifetime.

Scan any newspaper. It’s plain to see the world is not on an orderly march towards a better future.

This fact affects groups and individuals differently. The more recent one’s rights and privileges, the more parlous.

Women, LGBTQ+ individuals, people of color, immigrants, the poor, the disabled are always the most vulnerable.

In times of economic or social crisis, it is too often their well-being that is considered dispensable.

Progress is parlous because power is not.

When threatened, power does whatever it takes to protect itself. Progress is rarely on that agenda.

As psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi argues in Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, the best defense against external chaos is internal order. By identifying and pursuing what matters most, people can craft rich, rewarding lives in suboptimal circumstances.

Education is the essential ingredient, here. An untrained mind is a disorderly mind. A mind unaccustomed to effort is a aimless and ineffective.

While education is not a panacea, or substitute for social justice, it is a vital tool for individuals waiting for the moral arc of the universe to budge.

One of the many reasons I’m passionate about teaching writing is that it is yoga for the brain (no Lycra required). Writing hones logic, burnishes imagination and creates structure. And you can do it anywhere.

Structural inequalities are huge barriers to success. We need to dismantle those barriers. We also need to equip individuals to work around them. Writing is a skill that promotes individual success and provides a means to tackle unjust systems.

For more on writing towards success, check out my new Substack newsletter

Write To Success

As a professional writer for over 20 years, and a full-time educator for seven, I’ve witnessed the transformative power of writing — and the barriers many students face to accessing this power.

Every individual has the right to success. Education should empower young people to pursue their dreams and achieve their goals. Unfortunately, learning is often reduced to a time-consuming rote exercise where students’ main goal is to get through it. This is a disservice to them, and their futures.

There is a better way: a way that prioritizes goal-oriented learning, intrinsic motivation and long-term success: a way that turns writing from a chore to a tool.

Write To Success will offer unique, modular college and university-prep writing courses that empower teens to write their own success stories.

Stay tuned…

On AI: Artificial Ignorance

Artificial intelligence promises to augment our collective processing capacity. But on an individual level it is a neurotoxin that promises learners only artificial ignorance.

We are all familiar with the fact that unused muscles weaken, then atrophy. If one were to permit a developmentally normal, able-bodied child to rely on mobility scooter for transport they would, over time, develop physical incapacity where none had existed: an induced disability.

Photo by lilartsy on Unsplash

Thus, it shouldn’t be difficult to grasp that permitting children to rely on artificial intelligence ‘assistance’ such as ChatGPT will weaken, then atrophy, their intellectual capacity: an induced disability.

Writing a better brain

Writing is not just the product of thought. It has a unique ability to generate thought.

  • ‘I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking’ ~Joan Didion, journalist.
  • ‘With each of the new [ancient] writing systems, with their different and increasingly sophisticated demands, the brain’s circuitry rearranged itself, causing our repertoire of intellectual capacities to grow and change in great, wonderful leaps of thought.‘ ~Maryanne Wolf, Director of the UCLA Center for Dyslexia, Diverse Learners, and Social Justice.

As Wolf explains in her 2007 book Proust and the Squid (from which the above quote is taken) there is neither gene nor discrete neurological structure that enables humans to read and write. Literacy relies on complex, non-axiomatic collaborations between a variety of perceptual and cognitive systems.

Put another way: preliterate and literate brains are structured the same. What changed human history was not a novel biological development but the recruitment of extant neurological capabilities to perform a novel task.

Does that bend your mind a little?

It should.

Writing is not just a means of expression, like speech. It is a process and practice that improves cognitive function; it rewires the brain.

Put another way: it isn’t that smart people are better writers, it’s that writing makes people smarter.

Photo by Santi Vedrí on Unsplash

All of us who care about children’s long-term well-being, whether they are our students or offspring, should be anxious to help them develop their fullest intellectual capacity.

We are on a hot rock spinning towards oblivion. Life for kids who are in today’s classrooms will be complex beyond the wildest imaginings of us scions of the analogue order. The will need to be wily, resilient and resourceful AF.

Being laissez-faire about kids substituting artificial intelligence for study makes as much sense as being laissez-faire about children playing with live hand grenades: cool, if you don’t mind the maiming.

There are three key reasons I won’t use generative AI and emphatically discourage its use by students.

Neural stunting

A well-used brain grows, according to Pauwels et al. (2018):

“Practice leads to improvement in and refinement of performance… and this dynamic behavioral process is associated with altered brain activity…. Besides functional brain changes, practice also induces structural changes, such as alterations in regional brain grey and white matter structures.”

A brain that does not practice complex skills fails to grow, just as the disused muscle slumbers undeveloped. The brain becomes stunted compared to what it could have been, could be, with training.

A less-developed brain with fewer neural connections and reduced processing efficiency does not just affect reading or writing skills. If affects a person’s ability to learn, communicate and adapt.

Every time a student outsources their thinking to AI, they are sabotaging their long-term mental flexibility.

Educators and parents bear responsibility for this, insofar as we perpetuate a results-based learning environment. When we prioritize the ‘right answer’, kids get the message that process doesn’t matter. It makes sense for them to use any means necessary to get the answer that gets the desired grade.

We grown-ups need to rewire our thinking and explicitly focus on the learning process. This is not going to be easy, given the baggage of 150-odd years of rote education, but we have to begin. This might be as simple as grading the steps of an essay instead of the final draft, or doing away with grades altogether in favor of a feedback system. (For more ideas: Ungrading with Anthony Lince)

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Concentration of intellectual capital

Late-capitalism has succeeded in concentrating financial capital into the hands of a vanishingly small number of individuals. The grotesqueries of this are felt every time an ordinary US citizen needs insulin or an EpiPen, or wants to go to college. There are felt a thousandfold-moreso by the 650 million people living in extreme poverty around the globe.

This concentration accelerated wildly during the Covid-19 pandemic: ‘Billionaires’ wealth has risen more in the first 24 months of COVID-19 than in 23 years combined,’ Oxfam reported. ‘The total wealth of the world’s billionaires is now equivalent to 13.9 percent of global GDP.’ 

Put another way: those of us not born to oligarchy face ever-slimmer chances of rising to the top. Financially, anyway.

Until now, those not to the manor born could at least, to paraphrase Britpop’s finest cynic, Jarvis Cocker, use the one thing we’ve got more of: our minds.

Unless we allow kids to consign their thinking skills to artificial intelligence.

To be clear, I don’t believe there is a conspiracy among Musk, Zuckerberg, et al. to make the rest of the population dumber so they can rule in full-blown, unchecked Bond-villainesque splendor (mwah haha).

But there is a real danger of that dystopia becoming a reality through lack of vigilance on the part of educators, parents and politicians.

Big tech does not care about us. Does not exist to serve us. Is not our toy.

In the same way wealth-accumulation takes on a life of its own, with money begetting money, intellectual capital accretes to the intellectually adept. Students who read, write and think critically enhance the neural circuits for these skills, gaining efficiency, automaticity and self-confidence.

This enables them to tackle bigger challenges, be more creative, rise to the top. The better they get at learning, the more dauntless they will be; the more quickly they will evolve to meet new demands.

Students who let AI think for them will cultivate artificial ignorance, sap their innate learning abilities and dull themselves into ever-shrinking spirals of incompetence and self-doubt.

They will be victims, not victors, in the knowledge economy.

Diminishing returns

Generative AI is trained on scads of data.

Perhaps one of the reasons it shines is that current tools were trained on the laborious output of human brains. Right now, the machine is well-nourished.

Like any other extractive technology, AI’s potential is limited by the quantity of quality raw material available. As AI is increasingly used to generate blog posts, articles, images, etc., it will, perforce, eat itself. Like a hideous, post-post-modern game of telephone, machine learning will digest its own output to spew forth content that is increasingly bland, distorted and derivative: a garbled self-parody that will further diminish culture and conversation.

This is not an abstract concern. There are AI tools I recommend to students on a limited basis, such as Grammarly, for English-learners or novice writers who need grammatical training wheels. I discourage competent writers from using it because it flattens good writing.

Neither it, nor any AI tool, can distinguish a truly beautiful sentence nor appreciate the work of (to borrow from Salinger) an experienced literary stunt-pilot. Creative word usage, neologisms, daring sentence structures all fall foul; the machine brain cannot cope with linguistic audacity.

This is the chief weakness and biggest threat of artificial intelligence: it prefers the commonplace to the extraordinary and the predictable to the audacious.

Our world needs bold solutions and novel ideas, which it will not get from a conservative technology.

There are plenty of things to outsource to AI: reviewing medical data, tracking undersea tremors, preventing fraud. But not education.

The children whom we want to see thrive need every iota of intellectual capacity and creativity that dedicated teaching and rigorous practice can bestow. Otherwise, we doom them to artificial ignorance.

What are your views on AI in the classroom? Share in the comments?

Six Course Planning Essentials

Over the summer, I took two online courses: they were instructive in unexpected ways.

Both were premium-priced ($500+), both were heavily marketed, both were on topics I was keen to learn.

By the second session of Course 1, I was wandering the house, headphones draped around my neck, miming boredom to my husband.

By the second session of Course 2, I immersed in brainstorming, motivated, energized.

The difference was not the quality, kindness or expertise of the teachers (let that be a lesson). The difference was all in the planning.

After completing the two courses, I broke them down and identified six things Course 2 did that Course 1 did not. Here are the six course planning essentials this experience revealed.

Set concrete learning goals

The second course was super-specific about what participants could and should achieve by the end. The goals were concrete: do this, plan this, complete this. There was no vague aspirations like ‘get better at…’ or ‘learn more about…’ — those are worthwhile goals, but not tangible enough to drive action.

In contrast, the first course didn’t set goals. The idea was to just participate and… gain something. This lack of clarity was discouraging. Without a shared agenda, the shared time felt aimless.

Deliver brief lessons

Timing of instruction is something that doesn’t get talked about enough. Usually, class lengths reflect what is convenient for the person(s) scheduling, not what is best for the learners. Course 1 included weekly three-hour sessions (which felt much, much longer). Course 2 sessions were 45-55 minutes plus an optional Q&A. The shorter sessions were more approachable, manageable and beneficial, as I was actually able to pay attention.

Photo by Sigmund on Unsplash

Structure assignments

Everyone benefits from structure. Especially creative learners. Especially learners who are super-bright. Especially learners who want to excel. Structure is not a straitjacket, it is scaffolding that lets learners build the mind-palace of their dreams. Course 2 included sequenced assignments, graphic organizers and other forms of structure that made it easy to concentrate on ideas, rather than worrying about what document format I should be using.

Minimize distractions from other learners

Without fail, the first five to fifteen minutes of Course 1 was various participants discussing their dogs/children/medical appointments, etc. Without fail, someone would leave their mic on so we could hear their family chatting in the background, or the road noise outside. For someone with as little patience as I have, this was (is) maddening. It completely derailed my concentration and desire to be there. In blessed contrast, Course 2 was text-interaction only; the only person on camera was the teacher. No voices, no visual disruption, no distractions.

Reinforce key information

Once a course establishes learning goals and provides structured assignments, it is possible to quickly, painlessly reinforce key information. This can be through verbal reminders, chat prompts, post-session email summaries, etc. Regular reminders of what’s important, and why, anchor information in the learner’s mind and allow them to identify what they missed or want to revisit.

Answer questions

Course 2 featured a question-and-answer session at the end of each class. Participants could type questions in a dedicated chat during the session, so no worries about forgetting what I wanted to ask; attendance was optional, which made it feel more like a bonus and less like an obligation; finally, the Q&A was recorded, meaning the extra information was accessible at the my convenience.

What is a course feature you’ve loved (or would love to see)? Share in the comments!