Greg Toppo - Running with Robots: The American High Schools Third Century

Greg Toppo and Jim Tracy

The MIT Press

Cambridge, Massachusetts

London, England

2021 Massachusetts Institute of Technology

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the publisher.

The MIT Press would like to thank the anonymous peer reviewers who provided comments on drafts of this book. The generous work of academic experts is essential for establishing the authority and quality of our publications. We acknowledge with gratitude the contributions of these otherwise uncredited readers.

The authors would like to acknowledge that the title of this book was inspired by The Second Machine Age: Work, Progress, and Prosperity in a Time of Brilliant Technologies by Erik Brynjolfsson and Andrew McAfee.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Toppo, Greg, author. | Tracy, Jim, 1961- author.

Title: Running with robots : the American high schools third century / Greg Toppo and Jim Tracy.

Description: Cambridge, Massachusetts : The MIT Press, 2021. | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020040685 | ISBN 9780262045896 (hardcover)

Subjects: LCSH: Artificial intelligenceEducational applicationsUnited States. | Education, SecondaryUnited States. | EducationEffect of technological innovations onUnited States.

Classification: LCC LB1028.3 .T67 2021 | DDC 373.73dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020040685

d_r0

To Julie

To Jan

In this book, we argue that the revolution being wrought by accelerating advances in artificial intelligence, machine learning, and robotics necessitates equally dramatic new pedagogies, some of which our teachers have yet to invent.

In succeeding chapters, well visit schools where these changes are already beginning to take root. But to better illustrate the full scope of whats possible, and what must take place, lets engage in a time-honored thought experiment of looking backward to imagine what could be in the near future. In our case, a somnolent Massachusetts high school principallets call him Rumplefalls asleep late one afternoon in January 2020. He awakes to find that he has, astonishingly, slept straight though the intervening twenty years. It is the year 2040.

He emerges from his secluded home one spring morning to find that the neighborhood hasnt changed much, aside from the strange little cars in everyones driveways. In his own driveway, the faded blue Honda Accord thats forever burning oil is gone, replaced by (and hes not really sure how it got there) a vehicle the size and approximate shape of a double-wide lounge chair with a gently curving roof.

Not exactly sure how long he has been asleep, Rumple does the first thing that comes to mind: he skips the strange car and walks to his old familiar school, just a few blocks away.

Like the neighborhood, the high school seems to have changed little. Its still a solid, three-story, red brick edifice at the heart of a residential area, though a sign on the front door now reads Winterville THAMES Academy. Not quite sure what to make of thisthe Thames River is in England, thousands of miles awayhe pulls on the massive door, anticipating that, as always, itll be locked. To his surprise, it opens easily. Hmm, theyve really let security lapse, he says to himself.

What he doesnt know is that he has just activated an automated infrared/X-ray/iris scanner. By the time Rumple walks the several steps to the spot where his old office used to be, the system has silently identified him as an unarmed, middle-aged male, previously unregistered, no prior school contacthes rated harmless, with a 72 percent probability hes a visiting grandparent. The system returns a 24 percent probability hes there to complain about kids on his property, a 4 percent probability hes lost.

He stands at the front office, but no one is there to greet him. As he looks around for the receptionist, a pleasant but disembodied female voice says, Welcome, while a device resembling an ATM issues a thin plastic sticker that reads, Two-Hour PassRestricted. He pulls the sticker from the machine and pats it onto his chest. While he doesnt know it, the sticker will, if needed, limit which areas he can enter, triggering an alarm if he strays.

Moments later, he comes face-to-face with the principallets call her Bellamya woman in her late 30s with a ready smile and a firm handshake. Shes standing there because her Oculus Everyday glasses alerted her to the unfamiliar old man in the vestibule and suggested she go meet him before he gets too far.

With the readers permission, well skip over the moment of revelation, the scenes of amazement, of Rumples dawning realization that its 2040 and most of what he knew is gone or going fast. Well only mention that Bellamy, the new principal, immediately recognized him and now, sitting across the couch from him in her office, informs him that she was, in fact, a former student of his, at this very high school, back when it was plain old Winterville High.

Over a bracing cup of coffee, he gets his bearings and soon realizes that he has stumbled upon something educators live their whole lives dreaming about: the ability to see not only how their own work has turned out but how schools, students, and teachers have changed over a generationfor better or worse.

Bellamy, sensing that hes lost in thought, tries to bring him back to the present.

I graduated in the spring of 2020just a few months after you... fell asleep.

You did?

Indeed, she says.

Rumple snaps out of his reverielike most good teachers, he has a kind of deep, if imperfect, memory for his former students. And, of course, hers was the last class he remembers. Once he realizes who Bellamy is, he recalls that she had aspirations to major in computer science.

You were going to work in techI remember you were smitten with Silicon Valley, he says.

Yes, exactly! she answers, pleased that he remembered.

So... how did you end up here, back in your hometownas a high school principal?

Well, some things dont work out as planned, which sometimes is a very good thing. Its a long story.

Just then, Bellamys glasses remind her that it is almost lunchtime, and she offers to take Rumple out for a hot meal. Ill let my assistant know Im taking a long lunch, she says as they rise. They walk through the unoccupied outer office and Bellamy says in a loud, clear voice, I wont be back for a while, Annie. Could you please call for my car? Also, can you reschedule my afternoon appointments? A green light above the door blinks and that familiar, disembodied female voice says, Your car is on the way. Your appointments have been rescheduled. Have a good afternoon, Dr. Bellamy.

Doctor Bellamy, eh? Rumple queries approvingly, impressed. Bellamy smiles with a mixture of pride and humility.

Yes, well...

Dont forget, the disembodied voice interrupts, you also have a series of parent meetings beginning at 9 a.m. tomorrow and a Friday deadline for a grant proposal that is 62 percent complete. Based on past successful applications, your proposal currently has a 23 percent probability of being funded. Would you like to hear a few ways to improve it now?

No, thank you, Annie, she says, taking Rumple by the arm and leading him through the door. Have a nice afternoon.