As the integration of artificial intelligence into educational settings accelerates, the conversation often centres on efficiency, personalization, and the automation of administrative tasks. However, a deeper philosophical question remains largely unaddressed: what is lost when we remove friction from the learning process? To explore this, we can turn to the work of Gert Biesta, a distinguished Dutch philosopher of education and Professor of Public Education at Maynooth University in Ireland, as well as Professor of Educational Theory and Pedagogy at the University of Edinburgh. Biesta has spent decades examining the fundamental purposes of education, arguing that it must go beyond mere "learnification"—the acquisition of skills and knowledge—to encompass what he terms "subjectification," or the process of becoming an independent, responsible human subject [1] [2].

In a recent and thought-provoking interview with Big Think, Biesta offered a compelling critique of AI's growing role in schools. He argued that the true danger of AI is not simply academic dishonesty, but rather its capacity to eliminate the necessary moments of hesitation and doubt that are crucial for moral and intellectual development [3]. When a student is presented with a blank page and asked to write an essay, or given raw materials and asked to create something without a template, they are forced to confront their own freedom. They must ask themselves what they want to achieve and how they will go about it. This friction, Biesta suggests, is the space where genuine education happens.

Modern generative AI models are designed to be frictionless. They hurry students past the uncomfortable moment of "not-knowing" and deliver a polished, sensible output almost instantly. While this speed is undeniably convenient, Biesta warns that it deprives students of the opportunity to sit with uncertainty. "The faster [the students] go," he notes, "the fewer the opportunities for hesitation, judgment, or uncertainty" [3]. By ceding the effort of creation to a machine, students risk losing the capacity to pause and reflect on the deeper questions of what is wise to pursue and what is worth wanting in the first place.

Biesta draws a crucial distinction between intelligence, which adapts and learns, and conscience, which interrupts and questions. He uses the analogy of a robot vacuum cleaner: the machine can learn the layout of a room and become highly efficient at cleaning it, but it cannot judge whether the room is actually worth cleaning [3]. Similarly, AI systems can adapt to situations and generate complex responses based on probabilities, but they lack moral awareness or a sense of duty. Education, in Biesta's view, should not merely aim to make students intelligent and adaptable; it must cultivate their conscience. It should prompt the recurring, sometimes uncomfortable question: "What will you do with what you have learned?"

This perspective challenges the prevailing narrative that the primary function of schools is to maximize learning outcomes. If learning is the only goal, Biesta provocatively points out, one does not necessarily need a school; one can learn a great deal from life experiences or a job [3]. Instead, the unique role of education is to practice a "pedagogy of interruption." Rather than simply helping young people find their identity or become certain of themselves, education should trouble their familiar ways of being and doing. It should foster a healthy "self-uncertainty," which Biesta views as the foundation of moral consciousness. When individuals are absolutely certain of themselves, they lose the capacity to doubt their own actions, a state he considers deeply dangerous.

To counter the frictionless pull of the virtual and the automated, Biesta advocates for grounding education in the "encounter with the real." Real materials, whether in a craft room, a garden, or in human relationships, offer resistance. They do not immediately yield to our desires or follow our scripts. This resistance slows us down and makes hesitation possible. In an era where technology increasingly organizes life around instant gratification, preserving these encounters with reality in our schools is essential [3].

For educators, trainers, and researchers in vocational education and training, Biesta's insights offer a vital alternative direction. Rather than uncritically adopting AI to streamline every process, we must carefully consider where friction and resistance are necessary for our students' development. By protecting the space for doubt, we can ensure that education continues to foster not just capable workers, but thoughtful, responsible individuals capable of questioning the direction in which they—and society—are heading.

References

[1] Gert Biesta, "CV," Gert Biesta Official Website. https://www.gertbiesta.com/cv

[2] Leadership Society, "Reinventing Education: A Life-Long Quest of Becoming Truly Human," Leaders for Humanity. https://leadershipsociety.world/knowledgehub/leadersforhumanity/GertBiesta/

[3] Shai Tubali, "The hidden cost of AI in schools: fewer moments of doubt," Big Think, July 9, 2026. https://bigthink.com/history-society/the-hidden-cost-of-ai-in-schools-fewer-moments-of-doubt/

About the Image

The intimacy factory 2’ reflects on the increasing use of ‘companion bots'; conversational bots designed to mimic human-like conversations. It references these systems’ synthetic and mechanical qualities, as well as their very real emotional impacts. These systems manufacture intimacy, creating the illusion of bi-directional attachment and even care. The image is compiled in Photopea and includes extracts from four public domain images.