I Can't Stand This Indecision
Married with A Lack of Vision
It's been quiet around here this summer. Purposefully so.
I often remind my own children that we have two eyes, two ears, and one mouth—a clear four-to-one ratio of input to output. In keeping with this philosophy, I've intentionally spent these warmer months in a mode of listening, reading, and reflecting, absorbing the diverse and valuable insights from the countless voices engaging with the profound shifts happening in education, especially in relation to artificial intelligence.
As has become my tradition, I returned once again this summer to William Cronon's essay, Only Connect: The Goals of a Liberal Education.1 Each year I find something newly relevant in Cronon's thoughtful meditation on the essential qualities of a liberally educated person—qualities that seem increasingly urgent in a world reshaped by powerful, ubiquitous AI tools.
My recent reflections have crystallized around two interconnected qualities Cronon emphasizes: taste and agency. Taste, to me, is our deeply human capacity to discern quality, recognize good ideas, meaningful works, and valuable actions. Taste is not innate, nor can it emerge spontaneously from quick online searches or clever AI prompts. It requires deep reservoirs of knowledge—knowledge thoughtfully acquired, integrated, and repeatedly tested against puzzles and problems in varied contexts.
Agency, meanwhile, is our ability to act meaningfully and independently. Yet in education, too often when students exercise authentic agency, our institutional response defaults to a cautious, sometimes anxious, "not like that." But as Cronon eloquently argues, genuinely educated people "understand how to get things done in the world." I firmly believe AI tools hold enormous potential to amplify agency if we have the courage and clarity to teach students how to use them effectively and ethically.
Holding Hands While the Walls Come Tumbling Down—Cultivating Taste in an AI World
I've spent my career deeply immersed in the craft of teaching, continuously refining the art and science of helping students cultivate knowledge, curiosity, and critical thinking. I know firsthand the magic and complexity involved when teachers guide students through difficult ideas, when educators skillfully illuminate connections, and when classrooms become spaces of rigorous intellectual exploration. We cannot give up the ghost of teaching kids lots of things. And while I'm largely optimistic about AI in education, I've been struck by how quickly schools are pursuing AI literacy while remaining surprisingly incurious about the science of cultivating human intelligence itself. Knowledge—deep, interconnected, and expansive—is critical not only because it's inherently valuable, but because without it, genuine taste cannot emerge.
When we shortcut foundational learning by relying too heavily on AI tools, we risk leaving students intellectually shallow, unable to discern quality or navigate complexity. Taste is fundamentally about judgment, and judgment demands rigorous and sustained cognitive engagement with the kind of knowledge that doesn't come instantly or easily. If we're truly preparing students to thrive in an AI-rich future, we must remember that the development of taste depends on careful cultivation of robust, thoughtful human intelligence. Balancing AI literacy with a deep commitment to thoughtful, interconnected learning isn't just optional. It’s essential.
Welcome to Your Life: There's No Turning Back — Amplifying Student Agency Through AI
Cronon argues compellingly that liberally educated people "understand how to get things done in the world." This, at its heart, is what I mean by agency. It's the capacity for meaningful, self-directed action—the power to initiate, to adapt, to persevere, and ultimately, to impact the world positively.2 Yet, there's a fundamental paradox embedded in our schools' relationship with agency. Educators commonly speak about nurturing student autonomy, independence, and creative problem-solving, but our institutional cultures too often resist true student agency. When students exhibit genuine initiative or attempt to tackle challenges on their own terms, they often meet institutional resistance—well-meaning but firm redirection toward more predictable, comfortable approaches.
Enter AI. These powerful, accessible tools promise enormous potential precisely because they can amplify human agency. With AI, students can generate, analyze, create, design, and build at scales previously unimaginable. But (and this is critical)3 the tools alone don't guarantee agency. Students must be taught to wield these tools thoughtfully and intentionally, not merely to consume the outputs passively.
If taste requires knowledge as its foundation, agency demands something equally fundamental: trust. Educators must trust students to experiment, to occasionally falter, and to push boundaries. Without the willingness to embrace risk and uncertainty in student learning, our calls for agency remain merely rhetorical.
AI thus represents both a profound opportunity and a deep challenge: it can supercharge student agency if (and only if) schools relinquish enough control to allow students to navigate complexity, ambiguity, and even failure authentically. Cronon's ideal isn't merely intellectual; it demands action. To achieve meaningful, liberally educated students in the age of AI, our classrooms must become places where agency isn't just permitted, but instead, it's actively nurtured and genuinely celebrated.
Nothing Ever Lasts Forever— Seizing Our Moment in Education
The title of this piece, borrowed from Tears for Fears' "Everybody Wants to Rule the World," captures an uncomfortable truth about education’s current moment: I can't stand this indecision, married with a lack of vision. As schools grapple with the complexities and possibilities of AI, there's palpable hesitation. Too many educational institutions remain stuck, uncertain of what knowledge and agency should look like in a world transformed by generative tools, endlessly wavering between enthusiasm and fear.
Economist David Autor offers clarity here: "The future is not a prediction problem, it is a design problem."4 This insight demands something different from schools. It demands decisive action, intentional design, and clarity of vision. AI is not passively shaping education; we are actively designing it—consciously or unconsciously—with every decision, hesitation, or abdication of responsibility.
If we remain indecisive, if we fail to commit to cultivating robust human intelligence (taste) and authentic student autonomy (agency), we risk handing over to AI not merely our tasks but our fundamental purpose. Schools must move beyond merely reacting. We must boldly design our future. This isn't optional, and it won't happen by accident. It is our responsibility—and our opportunity—to define what education will mean in this new era. Let's not squander it in indecision.
Note: If you've been around this blog, you know the drill—titles are borrowed from song lyrics or titles. It’s a tradition. This is ‘The Academic DJ’ after all. I also think this is one of the greatest songs in history. It’s definitely on the list of a potential MLB walkup song, should I ever make it to the show.
Remove your polarization goggles. By "liberal education," I refer not to any political stance or ideology, but rather to the longstanding educational tradition focused on nurturing human freedom, intellectual growth, and meaningful connection within communities. As Cronon articulates in "Only Connect," liberal education seeks to equip individuals with a broad foundation of knowledge, thoughtful judgment, and the ability to act effectively and ethically in the world. It’s a lower case l in this instance.
Please miss me with your em dash concerns as signaling AI writing. I've deployed the em dash enthusiastically for years. You can take the em dash from my cold, dead hands.
It’s a very big but. See what I did there?
Taken from Autor’s keynote address: Expertise, Artificial Intelligence and the Work of the Future



Justin, I like how you frame taste and agency as essential qualities of education. In the studio, I see taste emerge when a print or drawing teaches students to discern what works, and agency when they make a decision that can’t be undone. Your connection to AI feels right too, It’s another material that, with trust, can amplify both if students are encouraged to wrestle with it critically.
Will be honest and I say I opened this because of the title. What an amazing song. And, thank you for this post… I know you know we agree.