James Walsh’s recent viral New York article, “Everyone Is Cheating Their Way Through College, ” did not shock by revealing AI’s pervasive role in education—this was already evident to anyone familiar with schools today. Rather, Walsh exposed how college students have constructed a coherent rationale justifying their use of AI, exhibiting a widespread, casual attitude toward cheating. Generations Z and Alpha lack the cultural resistance to AI prevalent in older generations. ChatGPT is completing the transformation that iPhones began, fostering a generation marked not only by illiteracy but hostility to literacy. Having spent much of my adult life teaching and tutoring history, English, and theater, I assert that the demise of the traditional take-home essay demands deep reform and a redefinition of what education means. This shift offers a chance to reconnect education with spiritual ideas. ChatGPT has exposed how soulless essay writing had become for students. To serve as a defense against academic fraud, education and literacy must engage the soul. If mere grades remain the goal, AI will continue to be misused; however, if personal, internal development is prioritized, AI might serve as a valid, though limited, teaching aid. AI’s takeover of writing completes a long decline in the conditions supporting extended writing and thinking. Young people participate in an information environment hostile to these skills. The essay itself is a relic from a time when students routinely read books or focused on full films or shows—standards from 1935 or even 2000 which now seem unattainable. Today’s teenagers, aside from exceptions, likely cannot follow complex shows or classic literature. The widespread use of ChatGPT not for planning or proofreading but to generate written thought reveals that young people lack communication, listening, and critical thinking skills. This stems not only from less reading but from the disappearance of everyday verbal rituals such as writing notes, keeping diaries, listening to sermons, storytelling, or organizing activities. Consequently, youth employ fewer words less often and increasingly struggle to organize and relay information. Schools have failed to replace these lost social rituals, transforming into diploma factories that overlook verbal fluency declines, sometimes employing staff lacking these skills. American education from kindergarten through graduate school is focused on credentials and employment, reducing long-form writing from a key learning demonstration to an obstacle. The ChatGPT essay epitomizes the cultural belief that school is about grades, college about networking and jobs—achievable now with minimal effort. Thus, stressed, screen-addicted youth see no compelling reason to try harder, and the educational culture offers no meaningful alternative. Grade inflation and college competition incentivize survival tactics over genuine effort. Writing essays is like a vestigial organ—disconnected from students' realities.

When students submit AI-generated papers and defend their right to do so, they reject the notion that their community values sustained writing or critical reasoning. Expecting digitally native students to craft coherent, multi-paragraph arguments is as implausible as expecting 19th-century farm chores from them; there is no social tradition supporting this expectation. Consequently, educators must radically shift from superficial achievement toward fostering reading, writing, and verbal communication as foundations for a fulfilling life. While AI can handle routine tasks, the critical question remains: what forms of cognitive and communicative work are meaningful and dignified for humans, especially the young? To justify its purpose, secular education should embrace a stance akin to Christian humanism, valuing close reading and sustained writing as nurturing the soul’s metaphysical potential. This perspective, supported by tradition and logic, holds that students need meaningful reasons to develop genuine writing skills. Teachers must model passionate, functional literacy to convey these reasons effectively. Though invoking the “soul” sounds religious, it aligns with secular humanism and echoes thinkers like William James and Cardinal Newman. The concept has practical value, anchoring us against surrendering our minds and bodies to soulless superintelligences. Practices that develop our human essence resemble religion more than technocracy, potentially bridging secular and religious perspectives around AI. As the saying goes, “Students who feel like machines will use machines. ” For decades, educators have become more secular and technocratic, but it may be time to sound more Christian in emphasis. Pope Leo XIII, historically critical of industrialization’s dehumanizing effects, could lead this shift. The soul concept serves as a rallying point: one can believe in a heavenly soul or a soul that resists becoming cyborg-like. The soul embodies coherence, purpose, and uniqueness, providing motivation to work and grow. A soul, like a muscle, can be strengthened; the brain alone is an inefficient large language model. Students who identify as machines will rely on machines; those who recognize their humanity may draw boundaries with technology. For decades, an economy of meaningless “bullshit jobs” has been supported by equally meaningless schooling. Life and work feel artificial and empty; AI fits this mechanical pattern well. Returning to metaphysics in education may inspire similar returns in the workplace, emphasizing dignity and meaning. At minimum, youth should learn that literacy and deep thought are essential tools for engaging with AI and for living fully, enabling them to give informed consent to technology rather than be passively governed by it.