Dal students need to learn how to write — and think
With rising AI use, we need writing credits more than ever
As I trudge through writing my assignments, I see friends using artificial intelligence to write birthday cards, draft break-up messages to long-term partners and even act as substitute therapists.
It makes me question the authenticity of my interactions with those friends — am I forming relationships with people, or the tools they use to speak for them?
I’ll admit it, I’m not against AI. I use ChatGPT for help with notes or simple questions, like how long I should thaw my chicken.
But there’s a difference between using AI as a tool and allowing it to think and write for us. While we’re at university, we’re supposed to be building skills to carry with us for the rest of our lives. And if writing isn’t important in university, when is it?
Concerningly, even my own school seems to be hopping on the AI bandwagon. Since 2023, Dalhousie University has replaced roughly three full-time positions with AI-powered bots, according to Dalhousie Gazette reporting.
With AI reshaping how students think and learn, Dalhousie’s required writing courses don’t go far enough to promote student literacy.
The current writing requirement for bachelor of arts and bachelor of science students consists of two first-year courses, with no upper-year writing requirements.
I remember one of my professors in first year saying that writing isn’t something you ever master, it’s something you always improve. It’s not a skill that can be learned in two courses.
Students may leave introductory classes with basic skills but struggle to apply them in later years.
Two writing requirement courses aren’t meaningful for literacy enrichment, especially when they can be fulfilled by courses like The History of the Future and Conversations with Ocean Scientists.
There’s nothing wrong with these classes, but when they represent the only writing-based courses some students will ever take, the university’s low expectations become concerning.
Part of the issue is that universities treat writing as a course requirement to check off rather than a skill to develop, prioritizing convenience over competence.
Reading performance has declined in Canada since 2000, with one in seven students scoring at the lowest reading levels in 2018, as identified by the Program for International Student Assessment. If students are arriving at university with weak reading and writing skills, Dal should aim to compensate for this gap, not accommodate it.
Without proper writing instruction, it’s no wonder students are turning to AI. How can we expect students to succeed in a system that’s already failing them?
AI is already embedded in student life, and it’s not going anywhere. That makes it even more concerning when post-secondary institutions treat literacy as if it’s optional. This isn’t just about AI; it reflects a concerning shift in how we value literacy.
As my generation enters the workforce, the consequences of AI dependence and decreased literacy will begin to emerge. As AI continues to reshape jobs, the skills we risk losing may be the ones we’ll need most.
Writing isn’t just an academic skill; it’s a way of understanding ourselves, and it forces us to think in a way AI cannot do for us. Even when AI can produce something faster, doing the work ourselves is what builds the skill.
What students gain in convenience, they risk losing in independence. Over time, dependence on AI shows up, the inability to form an original opinion, struggling to explain ideas and failing to communicate without outside influence.
Dal’s minimal writing requirements allow students outside the humanities to overlook the role writing plays in their fields and everyday life. Stronger writing requirements wouldn’t take away from core science or engineering courses; they would broaden students’ skills. Writing should evolve with technology, not be replaced by it.
