AI, cheating, and the future shape of education

education
Teaching for the world students will enter, not the one we remember.
Author

Norman Simon Rodriguez

Published

1 December 2025

The debate about students ‘cheating’ with AI tends to start from the wrong premise. It assumes that schoolwork is a creative act in which authorship is sacred and personal production is the measure of integrity. From that angle, using AI looks like deception: outsourcing the work, claiming credit for something you didn’t produce, violating an unspoken moral code.

But that premise is historically contingent. Authorship has not always carried the moral weight it does now, and plagiarism itself is a culturally dependent construct. More importantly, the premise doesn’t map cleanly onto what education is supposed to accomplish.

If the purpose of education is to prepare people to live meaningful, capable, self-directed lives—including their participation in the job market—then training must reflect the world students will inhabit. They will work with AI. They will use it to think, write, analyse, automate, and design. Teaching them to avoid it doesn’t build integrity; it builds obsolescence. The relevant skill is not producing everything by hand, but exercising judgement when working with a powerful cognitive tool.

This does not mean abandoning rigour. The real concern is whether students can evaluate, supervise, and correct the systems they rely on. That’s where the traditional objections enter: premature dependence can weaken internal understanding; assessment systems struggle to distinguish student ability from machine output; and credential signals become unreliable if institutions cannot vouch for actual competence.

Those concerns dissolve once the structure of education shifts. Students can learn effectively in AI-rich environments if their training includes early, systematic human feedback. Instructors can guide learners through controlled, simulation-based tasks where mistakes are expected rather than penalised. Students see how their misunderstandings propagate through the AI, learn why certain theoretical results matter, and internalise the underlying principles through use rather than abstraction. Theory learned in isolation is brittle; theory acquired because practice forces its relevance is far more robust.

Assessment, too, can evolve. Instead of asking students to produce artefacts unaided, institutions can evaluate their ability to perform in realistic, job-like environments: diagnosing AI failures, refining prompts, interpreting outputs, and exercising domain-specific judgement. Employers care about reliable performance, not authorship purity. Demonstrated mastery is the signal that matters.

The challenge is structural rather than moral. Legacy educational systems rely on scalable assessments and degree-based signalling. A shift toward granular skill certification, simulation-based evaluation, and AI-integrated curricula requires new standards, new funding models, and new institutional incentives. It’s a transition, not a tweak.

A pragmatic transitory bridge already exists: reconceive degrees as bundles of clearly defined skills, each individually validated and visible to employers. The familiar credential remains, but its interior becomes transparent. Institutions can gradually map old courses to new skill units, while forward-looking programmes design those units from scratch around AI-era competencies.

This approach respects the core purpose of education: developing people who can think well, work well, and navigate a technologically saturated world with competence and confidence. It avoids nostalgia for pre-AI workflows and clears away the moral fog around ‘cheating’. It replaces it with a more grounded question: what do students need to know, and how do we build systems that can prove they actually know it?