Contemplating ChatGPT

Image by WikiImages from Pixabay

A chart is making the rounds purporting to represent looming advances of Large Language Learning in ChatGPT, showing where we are now (version 3) vs. where we will be soon (version 4) in the automated generation of human-like communication. The thought of ChatGPT 3 alarmed and overwhelmed me enough when I learned students could use the tool to create plausible written documents that I asked both TMU’s AIO and Turnitin.com about ways to safeguard academic integrity. What I learned was not reassuring. This post records what I’ve discovered so far. Undoubtedly a number of you have much more to say on this subject.

My impression of Turnitin.com’s response to AI-created writing is that they’re nowhere near integrating academic-integrity safeguards that we can rely on. TMU’s Office of Academic Integrity currently (February, 2023) admits that it’s not yet possible to detect AI content, nor has Policy 60 been updated to address this issue.

We did have enough notice in September to add a note in our syllabi; however without a reliable tool to combat this kind of plagiarism, we really can’t do much, save having private, probing conversations with students–not a pleasant option. A professor at Innis College’s Writing & Rhetoric program at U of T has told me she may start assigning in-class essays. We could always return to the hand-written in-class writing assignments of yesteryear, but major grumbling, not to mention the headache of marking cursive, are not attractive prospects.

TMU’s Office of Academic Integrity has created a community of practice and provided regular workshops for instructors grappling with this issue. You could ask to be included in the community of practice, and you’ll get a D2L organization on your Brightspace page, where you can see what other members are thinking and can find leads on ways to manage the challenges. Allyson Miller (allyson.miller@torontomu.ca) appears to be the AI point person for the AIO. Topics for the latest workshop’s roundtable discussions reflect the most pressing ones that have emerged at other universities: “how to design assessments that either 1) thwart student use of AI, 2) leverage AI, or 3) challenge and/or critique AI.”

To be honest, I was surprised at how quickly surrender was promoted. Back in December 2022, an article in The Chronicle of Higher Education took this view. Our own AIO office recommended a tip sheet for integrating ChatGPT into the classroom, despite its incoherence and indirect invitation to be a commodity audience. Further afield, Manchester Met has sponsored an open slideshare inviting academics to post their ideas, and so far contributors are more excited than fearful. A common refrain is that we surrender to the ghost in the machine and try to learn from its bloodless shuffling of coherent-sounding sentences.

It’s understandable and probably realistic to contemplate how we’ll adapt, given the inevitable expansion of this tool’s capabilities. Nonetheless, possibly because of my early training and temperament, I prefer to begin with resistance and questions like those produced by Stanford University’s Institute for Human-Centred AI. Though as CUPE lecturers we’re mostly teaching “practical” writing skills, I’d argue we’re also instilling agency and allowing individual students to discover what they’re capable of as communicators. Do we really want to farm out the responsibility for a very human exchange to a non-human voice? I fear that in our effort to discover a solution to simple challenges we’re reaching for the stars but finding the green light on our computer monitors or the mirror image of a blinking cursor from a faceless stranger’s blank page.

COVID and the Idea of the University

Petar Jandric, a professor teaching at the University of Zagreb, in Croatia, decided to document how this strange interlude has had an impact on our lives as university teachers. In early March, he sent out a call to academics for testimonials. The resulting compilation was published in June in an issue of Post Digital Science and Education, as “Teaching in the Age of COVID.” These brief first-person accounts are both familiar and unfamiliar–the writers are working in different institutions in different cities and different disciplines, but the worries about standards, student engagement and anxiety and the true nature of institutions of higher learning are ones we already know intimately.

Needless to say, a common theme was adapting to change. For academics this has meant adjusting delivery modes to optimize learning and fulfillment. However, it wasn’t long after universities shut down that wholesale reimagining of course delivery and curricula emerged inside and outside the academy. As early as June 1 of this year, a report by RBC entitled The Future of Post-Secondary Education: On Campus, Online and On-Demand, ponders the opportunities for replacing the traditional classroom. Faculty and student responses to such visions of expanding virtualization were predictably negative, but it’s unlikely the drive for transformation will wane when the dust has finally settled. Grand schemes will always be on the horizon.

Still, it’s possible the Guardian’s Steven Jones’s early prediction of a more modest transformation of universities will become our new normal. He points out how the pandemic has helped the university community appreciate our mutually supportive roles, and he raises the possibility that we might do away with unnecessary practices, now that we’ve managed quite well without them.

Some of this futurism will look quaint no doubt, once we’ve laboured through to the other side.

Reviewing The Adjunct Underclass

Kelly Train, our Chief Steward, recently shared an essay by Herb Childress on the predicament of adjuncts in American universities: “This is How You Kill a Profession.” The content and tone are exactly what you’d expect from such a title.

However I recommend you read the essay if you haven’t already, if for no other reason than to commiserate on the lure of the academic life, its promises and disappointments. The essay is an excerpt from The Adjunct Underclass: How America’s Colleges Betrayed Their Faculty, and the book seems to have struck a nerve. You’ll find a long review in the most recent issue of The New Yorker that contrasts the reflections of a privileged former president of NYU with Childress’s quasi memoir. It is Childress’s story that takes up the bulk of the review, and whose message supplies its conclusion.

eBook on Reading, Rhetoric and Writing

Though Hearing Ourselves Think: Cognitive Research in the College Writing Classroom was published in 1993, I think the book has much to offer today. Ann Penrose and her co-authors present findings on the ways various students process information when struggling to analyze texts and writing situations.  Observational research (documented as transcribed recordings of students’ reflections) complements discussions of theory and practice.

As dry as that may sound, the content provides a fascinating insight into what different students are thinking when they wrestle with similar writing problems to the ones we design for our classes.  Chapters 8 and 9 cover audience analysis.  Chapter 1 explains the rationale for the cognitive approach.  Here’s the link to the eBook version in the Ryerson library.

Slowing Down

 

Two Canadian academics, Maggie Berg and Barbara K. Seeber, have written a book, The Slow Professor, explaining how we can reduce the frantic pace and multi-layered commitments of today’s universities and still maintain standards. Though the authors write from the perspective of those with tenure, they advocate for changing our academic culture so that everyone in it can have time to reflect.

Here are two reviews of the book, if your busy schedule doesn’t allow you time to read the whole thing!

Times Higher Education

Inside Higher Ed