AI is Destroying the University and Learning Itself

I used to think that the hype surrounding artificial intelligence was just that—hype. I was skeptical when ChatGPT made its debut. The media frenzy, the breathless proclamations of a new era—it all felt familiar. I assumed it would blow over like every tech fad before it.

I was wrong. But not in the way you might think.

The panic came first. Faculty meetings erupted in dread: “How will we detect plagiarism now?" “Is this the end of the college essay?” “Should we go back to blue books and proctored exams?” My business school colleagues suddenly behaved as if cheating had just been invented.

Then, almost overnight, the hand-wringing turned into hand-rubbing. The same professors forecasting academic doom were now giddily rebranding themselves as “AI-ready educators.” Across campus, workshops like “Building AI Skills and Knowledge in the Classroom” and “AI Literacy Essentials” popped up like mushrooms after rain. The initial panic about plagiarism gave way to a resigned embrace: “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

This about-face wasn’t unique to my campus. The California State University (CSU) system—America’s largest public university system with 23 campuses and nearly half a million students—went all-in, announcing a $17 million partnership with OpenAI. CSU would become the nation’s first “AI-Empowered” university system, offering free ChatGPT Edu (a campus-branded version designed for educational institutions) to every student and employee. The press release gushed about “personalized, future-focused learning tools” and preparing students for an “AI-driven economy.”

The timing was surreal. CSU unveiled its grand technological gesture just as it proposed slashing $375 million from its budget. While administrators cut ribbons on their AI initiative, they were also cutting faculty positions, entire academic programs, and student services. At CSU East Bay, general layoff notices were issued twice within a year, hitting departments like General Studies and Modern Languages. My own alma mater, Sonoma State, faced a $24 million deficit and announced plans to eliminate 23 academic programs—including philosophy, economics, and physics—and to cut over 130 faculty positions, more than a quarter of its teaching staff.

At San Francisco State University, the provost’s office formally notified our union, the California Faculty Association (CFA) of potential layoffs—an announcement that sent shockwaves through campus as faculty tried to reconcile budget cuts with the administration’s AI enthusiasm. The irony was hard to miss: the same month our union received layoff threats, OpenAI’s education evangelists set up shop in the university library to recruit faculty into the gospel of automated learning.

The math is brutal and the juxtaposition stark: millions for OpenAI while pink slips go out to longtime lecturers. The CSU isn’t investing in education—it’s outsourcing it, paying premium prices for a chatbot many students were already using for free.

Public education has been for sale for decades. Cultural theorist Henry Giroux was among the first to see how public universities were being remade as vocational feeders for private markets. Academic departments now have to justify themselves in the language of revenue, “deliverables,” and “learning outcomes.” CSU’s new partnership with OpenAI is the latest turn of that screw.

Others have traced the same drift. Sheila Slaughter and Gary Rhoades called it academic capitalism: knowledge refashioned as commodity and students as consumers. In Unmaking the Public University, Christopher Newfield showed how privatization actually impoverishes public universities, turning them into debt-financed shells of themselves. Benjamin Ginsberg chronicled the rise of the “all-administrative campus,” where managerial layers and administrative blight multiplied even as faculty shrink. And Martha Nussbaum warned what’s lost when the humanities—those spaces for imagination and civic reflection—are treated as expendable in a democracy. Together they describe a university that no longer asks what education is for, only what it can earn.

The California State University system has now written the next chapter of that story. Facing deficits and enrollment declines, administrators embraced the rhetoric of AI-innovation as if it were salvation. When CSU Chancellor Mildred Garcia announced the $17-million partnership with OpenAI, the press release promised a “highly collaborative public-private initiative” that would “elevate our students’ educational experience” and “drive California’s AI-powered economy.” This corporate-speak reads like a press release ChatGPT could have written.

Meanwhile, at San Francisco State, entire graduate programs devoted to critical inquiry—Women and Gender Studies and Anthropology—were being suspended due to lack of funding. But not to worry: everyone got a free ChatGPT Edu license!

Professor Martha Kenney, Chair of the Women and Gender Studies department and Principal Investigator on a National Science Foundation grant examining AI’s social justice impacts, saw the contradiction firsthand. Shortly after the CSU announcement, she co-authored a San Francisco Chronicle op-ed with Anthropology Professor Martha Lincoln, warning that the new initiative risked shortchanging students and undermining critical thinking.

“I’m not a Luddite,” Kenney wrote. “But we need to be asking critical questions about what AI is doing to education, labor, and democracy—questions that my department is uniquely qualified to explore.”

The irony couldn’t be starker: the very programs best equipped to study the social and ethical implications of AI were being defunded, even as the university promoted the use of OpenAI’s products across campus.

This isn’t innovation—it’s institutional auto-cannibalism.

The new mission statement? Optimization. Inside the institution, the corporate idiom trickles down through administrative memos and patronizing emails. Under the guise of “fiscal sustainability” (a friendlier way of saying “cuts”), administrators sharpen their scalpels to restructure the university in accordance with efficiency metrics instead of educational purpose.

by Ronald Purser, Current Affairs | Read more:
Image: Emily Altman