Educational Thoughts

Scott Kennedy
Published on
Recently I saw someone argue that, with the advent of AI, education will never be the same. We’re constantly told that AI will drastically change the job market—and that school, as we know it, needs a complete overhaul.  So, as a school, what are we to make of this?

One core assumption behind these arguments is that the purpose of education is to prepare someone for a job. But that’s not, I believe, a Christian view. While Christian education certainly prepares children for meaningful work , it is about far more than that. 

At its heart, Christian education shapes young lives to joyfully come under the Lordship of Christ and prepares them to exercise dominion in God’s world as rulers under Him. This isn’t a narrow job-readiness program—it’s the formation of image-bearers who reflect God’s character in every sphere of life.

AI will change how we work—but it is still a tool, and like all tools, it should serve a higher purpose. It can help us fulfil our calling to have dominion. But we must not let it have dominion over us. The real danger is when we stop thinking for ourselves because the tool can think for us. AI doesn’t lessen our need for knowledge—it increases it. 

This isn’t a new problem. When Google and the internet placed knowledge at our fingertips, some claimed we no longer needed to know anything—just how to think critically. But that’s naïve. Thinking skills depend on a well-formed, broad knowledge base. You still need to discern whether the information you find is true, biased, or incomplete. That requires deep knowledge, not just access. 

The same is true with AI. Just because it can write or calculate doesn’t mean we should stop learning those skills ourselves. That logic collapses quickly. We didn’t stop teaching maths because calculators exist. Future engineers still need to understand the principles behind the calculations—or they’ll be unable to use the tools wisely, or safely.

If we want students to rule over technology rather than be ruled by it, they need deep foundations: logic, language, ethics, theology, and number. Without these, we risk raising a generation who can access everything but understand nothing—controlled by technology rather than in control of it.

Daisy Christodoulou, in Seven Myths About Education, reminds us to ask what kinds of knowledge are likely to endure. The best guide is history: the longer something has been around, the more likely it is to remain useful.

That doesn’t mean we ignore innovation. But we should prioritise skills that have stood the test of time. Reading, for example, has shaped civilisations for thousands of years. It’s hard to imagine a future where reading well isn’t essential.

Coding, by contrast, may not last. It’s a recent development, and AI already writes much of it. That doesn’t make it irrelevant, but it does suggest caution. What matters most isn’t the technical task—it’s the understanding behind it: logic, clarity, and structure. Those are cultivated by more enduring disciplines.

All of this points to the value of a knowledge-rich curriculum. In a rapidly changing world, the temptation is to chase what’s novel. But the more unpredictable the world becomes, the more students need a broad and deep foundation. Understanding the logic, structure, and story of the world—through history, literature, science, mathematics, and theology—is what equips them not just to survive change, but to lead through it.

This is what we’re aiming for in Christian education: not just well-informed students, but wise, faithful leaders. Young men and women who aren’t conformed to the world but who shape it—leading with courage, clarity, and conviction. In a culture shaped by algorithms and automation,  we want our students to stand out: not controlled by technology, but equipped to use it with wisdom, humility, and purpose.

This is the vision—a generation formed by truth, not trends; prepared not just for employment, but for influence; not just for survival, but for faithful dominion.