His argument was essentially this: as AI transforms the workplace, one of our greatest mistakes would be to continue teaching children as though the world isn’t changing. Rather than preparing students to compete with machines, we need to double down on what makes us human over the memorization and acquisition of rote knowledge. These are the types of arguments that have kept me and many of my colleagues and educational collaborators in the world of independent schools for so long.
Empathy. Listening. Curiosity. Collaboration. Understanding people who see the world differently. Caring for something bigger than ourselves. Knowing when to lead, when to listen, and when to put someone else first.
Jack Ma called these soft skills. I wonder if that name undersells just how essential they are.
AI can produce an answer. It can simulate a conversation. It can even tell us what we want to hear. But human growth often requires something more complicated: honest feedback, accountability, discomfort, and someone who cares enough about us to hold us to a higher standard.
Being affirmed isn’t always what we need. Sometimes, being challenged by someone who genuinely cares about us is the most important thing in the world.
And that brings me back to schools.
One of the things I love most about working at Madison, Connecticut's The Country School is what our small community makes possible.
People often assume smaller class sizes simply mean more individual attention from teachers. Of course, that matters. But something else happens when a school is small enough that students regularly interact with people outside their immediate circle of friends.
They partner with someone who thinks differently. They navigate disagreements on group projects. They incorporate younger and older students into their activities and engagement. They sit together at lunch, play four square at recess, and learn to appreciate people whose experiences and perspectives aren’t their own.
They don’t always get to choose the people around them. And that’s a good thing.
Consider our outdoor education program. Imagine spending eight days in the Utah desert with 20 classmates, sharing responsibilities, navigating challenges, and depending on one another. Not all of them are your closest friends. That’s precisely the point.
It’s an opportunity to practice the skills that matter in the real world: adaptability, communication, resilience, and the ability to build relationships with people you might not otherwise have chosen to know.
These are the same skills we need in our workplaces, our communities, and our society. Research on diverse teams has repeatedly explored how different perspectives can strengthen problem-solving, creativity, and decision-making. But diversity alone isn’t enough. We also have to learn how to listen to one another, disagree constructively, and work toward something bigger than ourselves.
That’s part of the work happening every day at Country School.
Through STEAM, public speaking, outdoor education, global citizenship, and leadership, our students are challenged to think deeply, solve problems, take risks, and see themselves as people capable of making a difference.
And just as importantly, they’re learning how to be part of a community.
I believe the future of education isn’t simply about teaching children to use increasingly sophisticated technology. It’s about ensuring that, as the technology becomes more powerful, we become more intentional about cultivating the qualities that make us humane.
How do we raise children who are not only capable, but compassionate? Not only successful, but thoughtful? Not only prepared to do well in the world, but committed to doing good in it?
I’m grateful to work in a school that takes those questions seriously. We sometimes call ourselves the best little school in the universe. I’m sure plenty of schools say something similar about themselves.
But spend a day on our campus, watch our students learn from one another, challenge one another, and grow together, and you might begin to understand why we believe it. Because in a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence, helping children become more fully human may be the most important work we can do.