GP WA2 Thoughts

Today, we had our GP WA2 essay test.

Walking out of the Audi, my immediate feeling was that the paper should have been manageable, but I felt that it truly shone light on some of my shortcomings - one being my rustiness in essay writing (didn't write one in ages) and two being my poor time management (yet again). The question I chose was:

It was the question that stood out to me most (partly due to the fact that this is an issue that I believe many, including me, can relate to). Perhaps that was because it felt especially relevant to the world we are living in now - one shaped by Google, YouTube, online courses and, increasingly, generative artificial intelligence. Almost anything we want to know can be found within seconds. When knowledge is no longer confined to textbooks, libraries or classrooms, it seems reasonable to ask whether schools still serve any meaningful purpose.

However, beyond my personal failures, I did feel a tad bit dissatisfied, as I felt that it was rather restrictive and slightly daunting to express and alter my thoughts in a way that fit the format of the exam.

#A Constrained Essay

The test did not follow the format of a conventional GP essay.

Typically, an essay would contain an introduction, several body paragraphs and a conclusion. The number and length of these paragraphs would largely be left to the writer’s discretion. A student could spend more time developing a particularly important argument, include an additional counterargument, perhaps even a fresh, unique perspective on the issue or use the conclusion to qualify and refine the overall position.

For this test, however, everyone had to follow the same prescribed structure:

one thesis statement;
exactly three body paragraphs;
no conventional introduction or conclusion;
all completed within one hour and ten minutes.

To be fair, there is some value in such a structure. It forces students to identify their strongest arguments, avoid unnecessary detours and demonstrate that they can develop ideas under time pressure. There is nowhere to hide behind a lengthy introduction or a conclusion that simply repeats earlier points. Each paragraph has to perform a clear function.

Yet the format also felt somewhat artificial. A thesis statement can communicate one’s broad position, but it cannot always capture every qualification or tension within that position. Similarly, being limited to exactly three body paragraphs effectively means being limited to three principal lines of argument. Some ideas that might have deserved their own paragraph had to be compressed into a few sentences, while other nuances had to be abandoned altogether.

This felt especially restrictive for a question like this one. The issue is not simply whether schools should exist or disappear. It involves deeper questions about what education is for, how technology changes learning, whether access to knowledge is equivalent to understanding and what role human teachers should play in an age of artificial intelligence. These questions do not fit neatly into three boxes.

Still, constraints are part of writing. The challenge was to decide which three ideas mattered most.

#My Position

My overall position leaned strongly towards the continued importance of schools.

I did not want to argue that the internet and new technologies had changed nothing. That would have been difficult to defend. Schools are no longer the only - or even always the most convenient - places from which students can acquire knowledge. A person can learn coding through online tutorials, revise mathematics through videos or ask an AI system to explain a concept in several different ways.

Furthermore, I also felt that the question contained an assumption worth challenging: that schools exist primarily to provide information.

If that were their only purpose, then perhaps limitless information really might make them obsolete (with certain caveats). Yet schools do much more than deliver facts. They organise knowledge, guide students through it, cultivate social and moral capacities and provide the human judgement needed to use information meaningfully.

My three paragraphs therefore explored three different roles that schools continue to play.

#1. Schools give structure to an overwhelming amount of information

My first paragraph began by acknowledging the opposing view.

The ubiquity of online information has undoubtedly made learning more convenient. Students are no longer restricted to a teacher’s explanation or a single textbook. They can find alternative explanations, learn at their own pace and explore subjects beyond the formal curriculum.

However, limitless information can be as overwhelming as it is empowering.

A young student may have access to millions of webpages, videos and articles, but access does not guarantee understanding. Online information varies considerably in accuracy, complexity and quality. It is rarely arranged according to the developmental needs of a learner. More importantly, students may not yet possess enough foundational knowledge to determine which information is reliable or even what they ought to search for.

This is where schools remain important. A curriculum does not merely present information; it selects, sequences and scaffolds it. Students are taught basic concepts before advanced ones, and teachers can identify misunderstandings that a student may not notice independently.

In other words, schools transform scattered information into a coherent education.

Looking back, I think this was a sound starting point because it conceded that online learning has genuine strengths rather than dismissing it outright. At the same time, I could probably have drawn a sharper distinction between information, knowledge and understanding. These terms are related, but they are not interchangeable. Information is available almost everywhere; understanding has to be developed.

#2. Schools educate people, not merely minds

My second paragraph focused on the idea that schools go far beyond their superficial role of imparting academic knowledge.

Schools are also places where students learn how to communicate, collaborate, resolve disagreements, accept criticism and take responsibility for others. These lessons are not always formally written into the curriculum, but they emerge through group projects, classroom discussions, CCAs and everyday interactions with teachers and classmates.

In some ways, these capacities may become even more important in a world where information is limitless.

When almost everyone has access to similar facts - and when artificial intelligence can produce competent explanations or summaries within seconds - possessing information alone becomes less of a differentiating factor. What may matter more is whether a person can use that information creatively, communicate it effectively, work with others and exercise sound judgement.

I also argued that schools help students develop the critical and moral capacities needed to navigate misinformation and disinformation. Having unlimited access to claims is dangerous when one lacks the ability to assess their credibility. Students must learn how to scrutinise sources, recognise manipulation and distinguish persuasive language from reliable evidence.

Yet even critical thinking is not enough. Some questions cannot be answered through factual retrieval alone. Technology may tell us what is possible, but not necessarily what is responsible. Schools therefore have a role in cultivating values and encouraging students to consider not only whether information is accurate, but also how it should be used.

This was probably the paragraph I felt most confident about. It addressed the deeper purpose of education and directly challenged the idea that schools are simply information-delivery systems.

#3. Limitless information should complement schools, not replace them

My final paragraph attempted to synthesise the two sides of the debate.

Rather than seeing schools and online information as competitors, I argued that the two can complement one another. The unprecedented amount of information available today could make education more flexible, personalised and responsive to students’ different learning needs.

For example, a student who is struggling can revisit a recorded explanation without feeling embarrassed, while a more advanced student can explore material beyond the pace of the class. Digital platforms can provide extra exercises, immediate feedback and multiple ways of presenting the same concept.

I also introduced generative AI as an example.

Generative AI could potentially act as a personalised learning assistant. It can simplify difficult explanations, generate practice questions, provide feedback and respond to follow-up queries. Used well, it could help teachers address the varying learning speeds and needs found within a classroom.

This was also the part of the essay that I felt I did not develop sufficiently.

I mentioned the benefits of AI, but I do not think I explored its limitations with enough depth. AI systems can produce inaccurate information confidently. They can oversimplify complex issues, reproduce biases and encourage students to outsource the very thinking that education is supposed to develop.

A student may receive a polished answer without understanding how that answer was constructed. In such a case, information has become more accessible, but learning has not necessarily occurred.

With more time, I would have developed the idea that schools should not simply allow or prohibit AI. Instead, they should teach students how to use it critically: when it is useful, how its responses should be verified and when intellectual struggle should not be avoided.

That would have allowed me to reach a more nuanced synthesis. The rise of AI does not eliminate the teacher. It changes what the teacher is needed for. Teachers may become less important as mere transmitters of information, but more important as guides, critics and mentors who help students interpret and evaluate it.

#What I think worked

Overall, I think the essay had a reasonably clear progression.

The first paragraph addressed how students acquire knowledge. The second expanded the purpose of education beyond knowledge. The third considered how schools might adapt to the very technologies that appear to threaten their relevance.

I was also satisfied that I did not adopt an entirely one-sided position. It would have been easy to romanticise schools while portraying the internet as purely harmful. Instead, I acknowledged that online information has transformed learning in genuinely beneficial ways.

The central idea running through the essay was that schools should not remain relevant simply because they have always existed. Their continued relevance depends on their ability to evolve.

A school that only requires students to memorise information readily available online may indeed struggle to justify its place. However, a school that helps students organise knowledge, develop judgement, interact meaningfully with others and use technology responsibly remains indispensable.

I think this distinction prevented the essay from becoming a simple defence of the status quo.

#What I would develop differently

The greatest weakness was probably the final paragraph.

By the time I reached the generative AI example, I had not left myself enough time to unpack it properly. I could see the direction I wanted to take, but I was unable to develop the full chain of reasoning.

With more time, I would have explored several tensions.

First, personalised learning can help students, but excessive personalisation might also isolate them from the shared experience of learning with others. Education should respond to individual needs, but it should not become an entirely solitary activity.

Second, AI can make learning more efficient, but efficiency is not always the same as education. Some of the most valuable learning occurs when students struggle with a question, make mistakes and gradually develop their own understanding. A tool that removes every difficulty may also remove the process through which intellectual independence is formed.

Third, technology can widen access, but it can also deepen inequality. Students with better devices, more stable internet connections and stronger guidance may benefit more than those without such support. Limitless information may be theoretically available to everyone, while remaining far easier for some people to use than others.

I would also have liked to articulate more clearly how the role of schools must change.

Schools can no longer justify themselves by claiming exclusive ownership over knowledge. Instead, they must become places where students learn how to question, connect, evaluate and apply what they encounter. The value of a teacher should not lie merely in knowing facts that students do not, but in recognising misconceptions, asking better questions and helping students discover the limits of their own thinking.

#Afterthoughts

One key reflection I had was this:

Information may be limitless, but our capacity to interpret it is not.

We live in an age of extraordinary abundance. Answers are constantly within reach. Yet abundance creates its own difficulties. When we are surrounded by information, the central problem is no longer merely finding it. It is deciding what deserves our attention, what can be trusted, how different ideas fit together and what we should do with what we know.

In fact, limitless information may make education more necessary rather than less.

Without guidance, knowledge can remain fragmented. Without critical thinking, information can become manipulation. Without moral judgement, powerful knowledge can be used carelessly. Without curiosity and intellectual discipline, even the world’s largest repository of information may remain largely untouched.

Perhaps the place of schools is therefore not to provide every answer.

Perhaps it is to teach us how to recognise a worthwhile question, how to sit with uncertainty and how to tell the difference between receiving an answer and genuinely understanding one.

The internet may have given us a limitless library. Generative AI may soon make that library capable of speaking back to us. But neither can automatically teach us what is worth reading, when we should be sceptical or what kind of person we ought to become after we have learned.

That, I think, is where schools still have a place.