By Edo Segal
The confession I owe you is about a permission slip.
My daughter's school sent home a form last spring. Three pages, single-spaced, requiring my signature before she could use AI tools in a supervised classroom exercise. The form listed eleven categories of potential harm. It required me to acknowledge that the school bore no responsibility for psychological, emotional, or intellectual consequences arising from exposure to generative artificial intelligence. It read like a waiver for bungee jumping.
She is thirteen. She had been using Claude at home for months — exploring questions about marine biology that her science class skimmed past, arguing with the model about whether its explanation of tidal patterns made sense, catching it in a mistake about the depth of the Mariana Trench and
A reading-companion catalog of the 11 Orange Pill Wiki entries linked from this book — the people, ideas, works, and events that Lenore Skenazy — On AI uses as stepping stones for thinking through the AI revolution.
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