If Teachers Stop Teaching, What Do We Lose?
Updated: Aug 7
When I sat down with philosopher Troy Jollimore on Education Talk Radio, I expected to spend most of our time talking about students. Instead, I left thinking about teachers.
One line from our conversation has stayed with me ever since. Troy reflected on a time when he believed that he and his students were "engaged in a shared intellectual pursuit." That phrase stopped me. Because teaching has never been simply about delivering information.
Teachers don't just show up to transfer knowledge from one mind to another. They spend years developing a relationship with their subject. They wrestle with ideas, discover what fascinates them, and gradually develop their own way of understanding the world. Then they walk into a classroom and offer that understanding to someone else.
There's something deeply personal about that. Teaching is, in many ways, an act of generosity. A teacher isn't simply saying, "Here's the answer." They're saying,"This is how I've come to understand the world. Let me show you." That realization made me wonder whether we've been asking the AI question from the wrong direction.
Most discussions focus on students. Will students write? Will students think? Will students struggle enough? Those are important questions.
But what happens if teachers slowly lose the opportunity to teach in the way only they can?
The Human Example of Understanding
One idea Troy shared struck me particularly hard. He observed that many students seem unable to distinguish between having information and understanding something.
At first, I thought that was a problem for students. Now I'm not so sure. Who is the living example of what understanding looks like?
The teacher.
Students don't simply learn mathematics, literature, history, or science. They watch another human being practice those disciplines. They watch someone think. Question. Revise. Become excited. Become puzzled. Change their mind. That may be one of the most important things happening in a classroom.
Near the end of our conversation, I shared a memory of one of my own teachers. What stayed with me wasn't simply what he knew. It was his passion. His curiosity. The way his love for the subject became visible every time he taught. Troy responded with a story about one of his philosophy professors, who would stop in the middle of class, walk to the window, and spend several minutes thinking before answering a question. Watching someone think, he said, taught him what it meant to become a philosopher.
You don't learn that from information. You learn it from people.
Protecting the Teacher's Contribution
Schools spend a great deal of time talking about helping students find their voice. We celebrate what makes every learner unique. But perhaps we're entering a moment where we should ask the same question about teachers.
What is the teacher's unique contribution?
Not the lesson plan. Not the PowerPoint. Not the worksheet. The teacher. What do they bring that cannot be replicated?
If technology gradually takes over more explanation, more feedback, more examples, more interaction, what happens to the teacher's ability to bring their authentic self into the classroom? And if teachers lose that, what remains?
Teaching has never been an easy profession. People stay because they love the work itself. They love helping students understand. They love sharing a subject that has shaped who they are.
If we unintentionally reduce that relationship, if teachers become more supervisors of technology than practitioners of knowledge, we shouldn't be surprised if fewer people see teaching as a calling worth pursuing.
Maybe This Conversation Starts With Teachers
We often say AI should help students become more fully human. I agree. But perhaps that begins by ensuring teachers can continue showing students what a deeply human intellectual life actually looks like.
Because before students learn to value understanding they first have to see someone who values understanding. And for most children, that person is still their teacher.
Continue the conversation
If this article sparked a new way of thinking, you'll find more original perspectives, conversations, and insights at InflectionED.com.
Comments