From calculus homework to literature essays, young people across the country are regularly tapping into ChatGPT and similar tools to bypass the real work their classes demand. Some do it because they struggle to keep up with academic expectations, while others simply want to coast through requirements with as little effort as possible.
There was a moment described by a New Yorker writer, Hua Hsu, who asked New York University students about their study habits. One student openly shrugged off reading historical material, saying, “But, obviously, I wasn’t tryin’ to read that,” before instructing an AI chatbot to break the assignment down into easy-to-digest points. Another recalled an art lecture that inspired nothing but minimum effort: “I’m trying to do the least work possible, because this is a class I’m not hella fucking with,” the student admitted.
For many, college feels less like an opportunity for actual learning and more like a checkpoint on the way to adulthood. These students see academia as a system to be gamed, a hoop to jump through in exchange for the coveted diploma and the opportunities that come with it.
Who Is Actually Struggling?
But there’s another set of students who aren’t just gaming the system out of boredom or cynicism. Many find themselves overwhelmed by college-level work, out of depth, and unsure they belong in a challenging academic environment.
A recent study paints a telling picture: at two universities in the Midwest, more than half of English majors admitted they couldn’t fully comprehend just the opening of Dickens’ Bleak House without help. These individuals had above-average reading scores, yet still found classic literature impenetrable unless they turned to Cliff Notes or the latest AI-powered shortcut. One student confessed, “If I was to read this [Bleak House] by itself and didn’t use anything like that [SparkNotes], I don’t think I would actually understand what’s going on 100 percent of the time.”
The gap between the promise and reality of college has always existed. What’s different now is that AI tools can do more than just summarize a text—they can write entire essays, supposedly in a student’s own voice, and solve problems so well it becomes easy to skate by.
Most universities still admit significant numbers of freshmen who are barely ready for the academic jump, hoping tuition dollars will prop up struggling departments. Some of these young people could have been prepared if their previous schooling were better, but now they’re pushed into settings where the only lifeline is advanced technology rather than enhanced instruction.
Some ambitious undergraduates still pursue mastery for its own sake, writing papers without shortcuts and wrestling with tough ideas simply because knowledge excites them. But in a college climate where credentials often matter more than curiosity, genuine intellectual engagement feels exceptional, not expected.
Temptation will likely always exist, and it is not hard to see how anyone could fall for the ease AI promises. Yet if schools want to curb the tide, they may have to make college harder and more engaging, and recognize that, for many, less time spent in ivory towers and more pathways to employment could provide a better solution.
