The Age of AI and the Irreplaceable Teacher

Earlier this week, I was meeting with members of a team for one of my projects. I’d been asked to give an overview of AI and its implications for our work.

I talked about what AI is, its history, and the challenges and opportunities specific to education. I described the incredible potential for personalized learning, data-driven instruction with real-time feedback, and accessibility and support at a level we’ve never not been able to yet.

At this point, someone interrupted: “But what about mediocre teachers? I hate to say it, but there are a lot out there. Aren’t you afraid they aren’t going to use AI the way you’re outlining – and will just continue to be mediocre teachers?”

I paused. And honestly, I wasn’t sure how to answer at first. Because I think about that a lot.

When I work with teachers about AI, I always start by reassuring them that I believe the role of the good teacher is safe and will be needed far into the future.

But that qualifier – good – is important.

Good teaching means building relationships with students, getting to know them as individuals, and teaching them, not just the curriculum. It means pivoting to meet their needs. It means facilitating learning and guiding students toward being the best versions of themselves.

It does not mean using ChatGPT to generate a lesson plan and teaching it exactly as written.

We’re living in a new era where AI has made it possible for almost anyone to “teach” – or at least to deliver content. And that’s both thrilling and sobering. Because while AI can handle planning, grading, data analysis, and differentiation better than most humans ever could, it can’t replace the human heart of teaching.

AI can – and probably will (and probably should) — replace mediocre teachers. Or at least, it will make them unnecessary. If a teacher’s primary value lies in delivering information and checking boxes, then AI will do that job better, faster, and with far fewer coffee breaks.

But good teachers? The ones who connect, inspire, and make students feel seen and capable? Those teachers will only become more essential.

Think of it like learning to play the piano. A keyboard app with built-in tutorials can help anyone hit the right notes. Suddenly, someone with zero training can play a song that sounds… okay. AI is like that app; it can help anyone deliver lessons that look competent, even polished.

But the app can’t turn someone into a pianist. It can’t make them feel the music, improvise on the spot, or communicate emotion through their performance. That requires artistry. Humanity. Presence.

The same is true in classrooms.

A mediocre teacher might ask: “Which pre-made lesson plan should I use to cover fractions?”

A great teacher asks: “How can I help these students see fractions in their own lives—through cooking, sports, or art—so it sticks, feels meaningful, and builds their confidence in reasoning? How can I get them excited about this learning and see how it connects with their lives?”

AI can support both teachers. It can give the mediocre ones something decent to deliver. But it amplifies the great ones, freeing them from repetitive tasks so they can spend more time connecting, guiding, and responding in real time to what their students need.

That’s the opportunity in front of us. AI won’t make great teachers obsolete. It will make them unstoppable.

Because in the end, AI can raise the floor of teaching; it can make sure more students get something that’s “good enough.”

But it’s the great teachers who raise the ceiling and make learning joyful, personal, and transformative.

And that kind of teaching? There’s no algorithm for it.