This question, commonly asked in parenting classes in order to escape the understandable frame of immediate parenting difficulties, also cuts to the heart of education's deeper purpose. What are our most aspirational goals for our children and students?
As AI transforms classrooms worldwide, we need clear answers, because unthinking adoption risks shaping minds that fall short of our ideals.
The "Amish Test" can provide a framework for navigating this challenge. Inspired by Kevin Kelly's What Technology Wants and popularized by thinkers like Cal Newport and David Griesing, this approach asks a simple question: Does the use of technology align with our values, and will it help accomplish our long-term goals? For educators, parents, and students, applying this test can help ensure AI nurtures the thinkers we hope to cultivate rather than undermining them.
The Amish Test isn't about rejecting technology, it's about deliberate choice. Amish communities carefully evaluate new tools, asking whether they strengthen or weaken community bonds, self-reliance, and spiritual growth. They adopt what serves their values and reject what doesn't.
Education desperately needs this same intentionality, and has for a long while. In 2017 I wrote a report on "Modern Learning" and argued that the widespread purchasing of laptops was failing the Amish Test and was the technological equivalent of the desperate "Hail Mary" pass in football. Spending money and distributing laptops became an all-consuming effort without any real evidence of benefit.
Reports from industry and academia now warn that overreliance on AI can hinder clear thinking and writing skills. Like junk food that tastes good but harms our health, convenient AI tools can offer immediate gratification while undermining long-term development. Asking students not to use AI for short-term gains in a compliance- and grade-driven environment is way too tempting to resist.
In stark language, here are the contrasting scenarios:
Thought-less promotion and hidden use of AI: Students use AI, often surreptitiously, to generate essays and written homework without actually engaging with ideas, weakening their ability to think critically and express themselves clearly, and leading to actual reduction in capability.
Intentional use: Parents and teachers both model and then teach students to use AI as a research assistant and thought partner, learning to ask better questions while developing their own analytical skills.
The difference lies in whether we prioritize convenience or growth.
Here's an uncomfortable truth: traditional schooling, despite promises of liberating young minds, has always excelled more at training compliance than fostering independent thinking. While we often claim otherwise, it's largely designed to create standardized workers, not creative thinkers.
Unless we acknowledge this reality, we'll miss what's really at stake with AI adoption. Unexamined AI use in an unexamined education system will amplify these existing flaws, producing students who are even less self-directed and capable. The temptation for quick AI-generated answers, rather than wrestling with complex problems, threatens the very traits we want in our future adults: curiosity, agency, and resilience.
Erik Erikson's concept of generativity—the concern for nurturing the next generation—offers a powerful framework for educators. Generative teaching means envisioning the 30-year-old we hope to nurture and working backward to design learning experiences that build those qualities.
This approach transforms how we evaluate AI tools:
Instead of asking: "Will this make teaching easier?"
Ask: "Will this help students become more creative, self-directed, and capable of independent thought?"
Instead of asking: "Does this improve test scores?"
Ask: "Does this foster the character traits and thinking skills our students will need as adults?"
Here's how educators and parents can apply this framework:
Define Your Vision. Start with clarity about the adult you want to nurture. What character traits matter most? Independence? Creativity? Critical thinking? Empathy?
Evaluate Each Tool. For every AI application, ask:
Does this strengthen or weaken deep learning?
Does it encourage students to think harder or avoid thinking altogether?
Will this tool help students become more self-directed over time?
Model Intentional Use. Students learn more from what we do than what we say. Demonstrate thoughtful technology choices and discuss your reasoning openly.
Teach the Framework Help students apply their own Amish Test to AI tools. This metacognitive skill—thinking about how they think and learn—may be more valuable than any specific technology.
I recognize that this requires educators and parents to become familiar not only with the new AI tools, but also to think more deeply about what education actually is. I don't have any inclination to shy away from that. If you're going to play this role with students, you should do it well.
When applied thoughtfully, the Amish Test transforms AI from a potential crutch into a catalyst for growth. Students learn to direct technology rather than be directed by it. They develop the discernment to ask: "How can I use this tool to become a better thinker, not just get faster answers?"
This isn't about resistance to change—it's about ensuring change serves human flourishing. As David Griesing urges, we must tame technology to serve our values, not let it dictate them.
The future depends on adults who can think clearly, act independently, and adapt creatively. The Amish Test offers a way to safeguard these qualities in an AI-driven world.
Before implementing that next AI tool in your classroom or home, pause and ask: Does this align with the creative, self-directed adult I want this student to become?
The answer will guide you toward an education that nurtures thinkers, not followers—preparing young people not just for the jobs of tomorrow, but for lives of meaning and agency.