What if we reimagined the purpose of education? Instead of focusing solely on grades and standardized tests, what if we prioritized preparing students to thrive – to achieve what the ancient Greeks called "eudemonia" – long after they leave the classroom?

Imagine a school where students are empowered to embrace challenges, learn from setbacks, and develop the resilience and critical thinking skills necessary to navigate our complex world. This "Jedi training ground" would foster empathy, leadership, and a willingness to tackle any task with enthusiasm. It would encourage students to explore the unknown, push boundaries, and contribute meaningfully to society.

The Power of True Personalization
True personalization goes beyond customized lesson plans and differentiated instruction. It's about igniting a fire within each student, empowering them to take ownership of their learning journey.
In a truly personalized environment, educators become mentors and guides, supporting students as they navigate their individual paths. The classroom transforms into a vibrant hub of exploration, where students eagerly engage in challenging tasks, collaborate with peers, and share their discoveries with infectious enthusiasm.
This is where deep, lasting learning takes place – the kind that students recall vividly years later. It's evident in the diverse, high-quality work they produce, driven by passion and a sense of purpose.
The Evolving Role of the Educator

While personalization emphasizes student agency, the role of the educator remains crucial. In an increasingly isolating world, students crave human connection and inspiration. Teachers serve as role models, offering guidance, encouragement, and a sense of belonging.
The ideal educator seamlessly transitions between roles – a motivational speaker, an experienced Sherpa, a nurturing parent – providing tailored support for each student's unique needs. They walk alongside their students, celebrating successes and offering encouragement during setbacks, ultimately emerging as better individuals themselves through the shared journey.
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A Glimpse into the Future
This vision of education is not a utopian fantasy. Schools around the world are already embracing these principles, cultivating environments where students flourish and develop the skills to become engaged, empathetic, and successful citizens.

Education finds itself at a critical juncture. The rise of the internet and, more recently, the integration of AI into classrooms has amplified a long-standing tension in educational philosophy: the need to balance standardized learning with the cultivation of individual potential. Traditional approaches, emphasizing rote memorization and standardized testing, appear increasingly misaligned with the demands of a rapidly evolving world.
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The Disconnect Between School and the 'Real World'
The gap between the skills honed in classrooms and the realities of the modern workplace is widening. David Graeber, in his book "Bullshit Jobs," highlights the proliferation of meaningless occupations that offer little societal value. Alarmingly, our educational system often steers students towards these very roles, overlooking the significance of skilled trades and practical vocations.

Furthermore, a troubling trend emerges in higher education. The documentary "Chasing Childhood" reveals a generation of students ill-equipped to handle setbacks or navigate differing opinions, despite impressive resumes padded with extracurricular activities. One hilarious example is a Harvard biology professor quitting after receiving too many emails from the parents of his adult students excusing missing assignments. This phenomenon underscores a crucial question: are we adequately preparing students for the complexities and challenges of adult life? 

Cultivating Grit and Resilience Through Innovation
Now, more than ever, educational philosophers must grapple with how to foster grit, resilience, and adaptability in K-12 students. It is essential that a greater emphasis on innovation and problem-solving is implemented in the classroom. While traditional skills in literacy and numeracy remain crucial, subjects like science and social studies offer fertile ground for cultivating an entrepreneurial mindset.

Imagine students learning about space exploration through immersive simulations, tackling real-world problems using design thinking principles, or developing innovative solutions to local community challenges. Such experiences nurture critical thinking, collaboration, and creative problem-solving – skills vital for navigating an uncertain future.

A Call to Action
Every lesson, every activity, should be evaluated through a critical lens: how does this contribute to the development of a flourishing individual and a thriving society? Educational leaders must empower educators to embrace innovation, encouraging them to design learning experiences that transcend traditional boundaries and equip students with the skills and resilience they need to thrive in the 21st century. The time for bold action is now.

Since the dawn of consciousness, humans have gazed at the stars and pondered their place in the cosmos. We have also, it seems, been plagued by a more earthly concern: boredom. The ancient Greeks even had a word for it: acedia.  Acedia was more than just a fleeting feeling; it was a profound sense of listlessness, a spiritual malaise that spoke to a lack of engagement with the world.
Aristotle, for instance, believed that acedia was antithetical to living a good life. To him, true fulfillment came from actively participating in the world, pursuing knowledge, and striving for virtue. In his Nicomachean Ethics, he argued that happiness was not a passive state but an activity, a continuous striving for excellence.
Even Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-king of Rome, grappled with the specter of boredom. In his Meditations, he reflected on the cyclical nature of existence, the repetitive patterns of human behavior, and the seeming lack of novelty in the world. Yet, he also found solace in the pursuit of wisdom and the acceptance of one's place in the grand tapestry of the universe.
But why, if boredom has been with us since antiquity, do we still fall prey to it so easily?  Some scientists propose an interesting theory: that boredom arises from our innate desire for an ideal level of stimulation. Like Goldilocks seeking the perfect porridge, our minds and bodies are constantly searching for a balance between under-stimulation and over-stimulation.
When we are over-stimulated, our systems become flooded with stress hormones, leading to a rapid depletion of energy. This explains why a toddler, a whirlwind of activity one moment, can collapse into a deep sleep instantly. Their young brains are still learning to regulate this delicate balance.
Conversely, when we are under-stimulated, boredom sets in. It is a powerful force, this boredom, for it motivates us to seek out new experiences, to explore the world around us. Our attention wanders, our inner voices grow louder, and our imaginations run wild. We crave novelty, engagement, and the release of dopamine that comes with discovering something new.
In our modern age, however, boredom seems to be on the wane. The ubiquitous smartphone, a portal to endless distraction, has become our constant companion. Waiting for a bus? Scroll through social media. Sitting in a doctor's office? Lose yourself in a game. The quiet moments of reflection, once so common in our lives, are now increasingly rare. (Think of the long history of bathroom break boredom)
But is this constant stimulation truly beneficial?  While the immediate gratification of digital entertainment is undeniable, there is growing concern about its long-term consequences. As educators, we are witnessing a decline in attention spans among our students. Kids who once could sit through a twenty-minute lesson now show signs of restlessness after just a few minutes (My favourite is when they quietly open their computers as if I don't notice).
This erosion of attention has profound implications. It hinders our ability to engage in deep thought, to grapple with complex problems, and to generate truly innovative solutions. While these classroom issues are minor on a large scale, the growing trend of decreasing attention spans does pose large-scale societal issues. Big problems require complex thinking and innovative idea generation. This requires 'sitting with the problem', often for long periods of time. Good solutions aren't necessarily the fast ones. Climate change, for example, is an issue that requires innovative solutions that are based in futuristic science. Large-scale algae farms, giant mirrors in space, and large-scale land reclamation projects are concepts that require deep thinking. The current global strategy of reducing consumption has not worked and has resulted in political strife across the globe.
The solution, however, is not to simply ban devices and force students into a state of boredom. As Karl Popper wisely observed, true learning occurs through active engagement with the world, through the formulation and testing of ideas. We must, as educators, create meaningful experiences that ignite students' curiosity and inspire them to explore, to question, and to discover.
This is no easy task. It requires a fundamental shift in our approach to education. We must move beyond the rote memorization of facts and figures and cultivate a love of learning for its own sake. We must empower students to become active participants in their education, to see themselves not as passive recipients of knowledge but as explorers charting their own course through the vast expanse of human understanding.
In the words of the great Carl Sagan, "Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."  It is our duty, as educators, to nurture that sense of wonder, to foster the intellectual curiosity that will lead our students to make their own incredible discoveries. And perhaps, in the process, we can rediscover the value of boredom, that quiet space where creativity and innovation can flourish.

"Biosphere 2 is the world's largest controlled environment dedicated to understanding the impacts of climate change. Our researchers have created the unique biomes to help answer the most complex questions of today and tomorrow about sustainability, conservation, and humanity's impact on Biosphere 1 – our own Earth."

-University of Arizona Research Team

In the early 1990s, a group of dreamer scientists embarked on an ambitious project that would push the boundaries of scientific exploration and innovation. Biosphere 2, a massive enclosed ecosystem spanning over three acres, was designed to mimic Earth's biosphere and serve as a self-sustained environment for human habitation. The ultimate goal of this groundbreaking experiment was to explore the possibility of creating self-sufficient habitats for future space exploration on Mars or the moon.

"Designing an artificial ecosystem that captures the essential essence of the original biosphere on Earth was much like playing Noah, choosing which organisms could be assembled into a stable, self-sustaining network and then bottled in an enclosed environment."
-Jane Poynter

The Biosphere 2 experiment was a testament to the power of human ingenuity and the relentless pursuit of knowledge. The scientists involved in the project dreamed of creating a miniature version of Earth, complete with diverse ecosystems, including rainforests, deserts, and even an ocean. By studying the intricate interactions between these ecosystems and the human inhabitants, they hoped to gain valuable insights into the complex web of life that sustains our planet.

It's clear that the experiment holds important relevance to today's world of scientific exploration and innovation. The successes and failures of the project provide a wealth of knowledge that can guide future endeavours in space exploration and sustainable living. Some of the innovations that worked well during the experiment include the use of advanced recycling systems, efficient food production techniques, and the cultivation of diverse plants. 

Despite the Biosphere 2 experiment's setbacks, such as fluctuating oxygen levels and challenges in maintaining a balanced ecosystem, these obstacles provided excellent opportunities to learn about the challenges of surviving in a closed system. The scientists involved in the project demonstrated remarkable resilience and a growth mindset, adapting to the challenges and finding innovative solutions under tight budgets and short timelines. A lesson that all students, regardless of age, can benefit from. 

One of the most significant hurdles during the experiment was the unexpected drop in oxygen levels. Initially designed as a completely sealed environment, Biosphere 2 began experiencing dangerously low oxygen levels. This was due to several unforeseen factors, such as the concrete structure absorbing oxygen and the overgrowth of soil microbes consuming oxygen and releasing carbon dioxide. Engineers injected supplemental oxygen into the facility, a controversial move because it compromised the integrity of the closed system but was crucial for the safety of the inhabitants. Additionally, they addressed the problem of oxygen absorption by sealing the concrete surfaces within the facility, and reacting with the air to reduce oxygen levels. Finally, the facility's microbiome adjustments were made to improve the carbon dioxide-to-oxygen ratio. 

Many in the public mocked this move as a giant failure, showing that Biosphere 2 was unsustainable. Considering the scope and scale of the project, many scientists felt that this was an unforeseen issue and actually provided interesting insight into managing a complex system for future missions. The failure was a powerful lesson for aspiring scientists and innovators, reminding them that setbacks are an integral part of the scientific process and that success often lies in the ability to learn from failures and keep pushing forward.

Looking towards the future, the potential applications of artificial intelligence in biosphere initiatives and space colonization are immense. AI-powered systems could assist in monitoring and regulating the complex ecosystems within enclosed habitats, optimizing resource management, and even predicting potential issues before they arise. Moreover, AI could play a crucial role in helping humans survive and thrive on Mars or other planets, by analyzing data, providing decision support, and facilitating communication with Earth-based teams.

The Biosphere 2 experiment not only advanced scientific understanding but also captured the imagination of the general public. It sparked a renewed interest in understanding our Earth, the importance of preserving its delicate ecosystems, and the possibilities of exploring other planets. In the spirit of Carl Sagan's Cosmos, which popularized the universe for the masses, Biosphere 2 brought the wonders of science and the potential for human exploration to the forefront of public consciousness.

As Carl Sagan famously said, "*Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.*" This quote encapsulates the essence of scientific exploration and the boundless potential for discovery. Biosphere 2 embodies this spirit of curiosity and the drive to push the limits of human knowledge. It serves as a reminder that humans are naturally ambitious and innovative. Many of the great discoveries and innovations that benefit us today are the result of dreamy scientists whose ideas were often dismissed outright. 

For educators, the Biosphere 2 experiment provides a rich source of inspiration for fostering an innovation mindset in students. By incorporating hands-on, inquiry-based learning approaches, such as design thinking, genius hour and innovation fairs, teachers can encourage students to think creatively, solve problems, and embrace the challenges that come with scientific exploration. By exposing students to the stories of the Biosphere 2 scientists and their achievements, educators can ignite a passion for science and inspire the next generation of innovators.

Reflecting on the legacy of Biosphere 2, it is clear that its impact extends far beyond the scientific community. It stands as a symbol of human ingenuity, resilience, and the boundless potential for exploration and discovery. By drawing inspiration from this remarkable experiment, we can cultivate a culture of innovation and encourage future generations to dream big, take risks, and push the boundaries of what is possible.

The Biosphere 2 experiment serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of scientific exploration and the potential for human innovation. As we face the challenges of the future, from climate change to space exploration, it is important to remember the lessons learned from Biosphere 2 and foster an innovation mindset in the next generation of scientists and problem-solvers. Together, we can unlock the incredible possibilities that await us and make the dreams of yesterday the realities of tomorrow.

Last week, the International Society for Technology in Education (ISTE) conference was held in Denver, Colorado. For those in the ed-tech world, ISTE is the Kentucky Derby of conferences. If you're looking for classroom technology, you'll find it here – from tech giants like Microsoft to niche players like Quizizz.

This year's hot topic? You guessed it – Artificial Intelligence, or as some jokingly call it, Skynet... Keynote speakers like Sinead Bovell discussed AI's impact on the workforce and education, while self-proclaimed "#changeagent" teachers signed books about AI in the classroom. Nearly every ed-tech company now boasts AI features, promising to generate rubrics, presentations, tests, and even parent emails at the click of a button.

By a large margin, the most alarming development is software that can generate a rubric, upload it to AI, and then grade students' work. What's more concerning? The application or the unbridled excitement of teachers discovering this "superpower."

Admittedly, conferences like ISTE, regardless of industry, often serve up more fluff than substance. Most teachers in North America have never heard of ISTE and have little interest in AI. Why? Because many schools are still struggling with outdated technology. It's possible that AI might follow the path of the Internet – a fantastic tool that hasn't fundamentally changed day-to-day classroom activities.

This disconnect is what frustrates me most about education today. Scroll through the social media bios of ISTE attendees, and you'll find an endless parade of self-promotion. "Change makers," "AI experts," "inclusive leaders" – the list of trendy tags goes on. While these posters represent a small percentage of attendees, many are presenters or organizational representatives. They're the ones steering the conference and, by extension, shaping the narrative around education technology.

So, why should we care?

The danger lies in the growing gap between these self-promoting "Instagram educators" and the daily realities of schools across North America. Teaching, at its core, is the most artistic of blue-collar jobs. It requires intuition, a sense of "mana," as surfers might say. Each student arrives shaped intensely by their last 24 hours, and it takes a skilled educator to motivate and teach them effectively. Yet, teachers must also navigate government-mandated curricula and assessments, regardless of classroom dynamics.

AI proponents aim to streamline this process. "Look how easy it is to design a worksheet!" they boast. "Now you can spend more time with your students!" It sounds enticing, especially for educators seeking efficiency. But as readers of this website know, we must always ask ourselves: What is the true purpose of education?

The sobering reality is that 21st-century education resembles the art world more than the process-driven industrial model that AI experts insist on improving. Like art, education varies wildly across geographic and demographic lines. Some teach through a post-modern lens, others take a classical approach, and many develop their own unique style. Schools and districts approach learning differently too. From a bird's-eye view, it looks like we're throwing spaghetti at the wall and burning through funds in the process.

Research on effective teaching methods is limited and often biased (remember the multiple learning styles fiasco?). Education schools lack science-backed methodologies and face criticism for being overly political. We send new teachers into the world with a "good luck" and then wonder why they lean on activism.

This brings us to the crux of the issue: With so many inconsistencies in education, how can anyone claim to be an expert in AI's classroom applications? The self-aggrandizing educators who promote their expertise have been given too much leeway, and we're following marketing strategies rather than wisdom. We're witnessing the loss of generational teaching experience in real-time, leaving the industry without a post-mortem on their insights. They're old dinosaurs who can't survive in the new world, we say. 

We assume technology will fix our current problems, a notion that even forward-thinking Carl Sagan warned against: "We've arranged a society based on science and technology, in which nobody understands anything about science and technology."
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Perhaps we should heed Sagan's warning and remember that when it comes to technology in education, we have no idea what we're doing. It might be more effective to turn away from self-promotion, put the hard hat back on and focus on creating critical-thinking, life-long learners. It's not sexy, but it works.

After reading Jonathan Haidt's latest book, The Anxious Generation, I was left wondering: Is it really this bad?

Having worked as an educator with elementary-aged students (K-8) for over 15 years, I paid close attention to Haidt's data, especially for ages 10-14. Throughout the book, I juxtaposed my experience with his findings to make sense of my day-to-day experiences as a middle school teacher. Often, data-driven books like *The Anxious Generation* highlight trends across demographics but fail to capture the nuances of daily life in the classroom. This is understandable; no author can account for every variable when proposing a hypothesis. Instead, we rely on large data sets to determine trends.

The trends presented in the book are indeed disheartening. Teens and pre-teens, both male and female, are experiencing a mental health crisis. Haidt connects this trend to the rise of the social media generation, who now spend the majority of their lives on a device.

So, what does this look like on the ground from a teacher's perspective?

I've often suggested that the pandemic was a significant factor in the decline of Gen Z's mental and physical health. The uncertainty around the role of school in the early days of the pandemic created a chaotic environment, prompting questions with no clear answers. I remember pondering:

What are the minimum requirements for online learning?
Should it be asynchronous or synchronous?
Should students be required to participate in some capacity?
Do they need to have their cameras on?
Should they be graded?

Amid the chaos, norms for online learning were formed across Canada and the US. Younger students were taught synchronously in a traditional style, while older kids had opportunities to work asynchronously. There were problems with both, but we hoped that throwing enough spaghetti at the wall would at least stave off some of the learning loss. As expected, students with attentive parents, access to resources, and a reasonable sense of self-discipline soared above those missing one or more of these variables.

Many students suffered alone, inevitably leading to an increase in anxiety and depression, much of which still affects them today. However, something happened during the pandemic that many educational leaders missed: 

Students learned that school was optional.

The middle school students I taught during the pandemic checked out when forced to learn online. In some cases, I never heard from them at all, nor did they respond to emails. They never got punished for this. When deadlines came and went, I was not allowed to fail students. At the time, it seemed the right thing to do. However, as more assignment cycles passed without submissions, it started to stick. Students realized that school was optional.

When things returned to normal, the vibe of school changed. Students seemed less motivated to participate in school and definitely less intrinsically motivated overall. It's hard to pin down the exact vibe, but it seemed that the wind had been taken out of their sails. It was almost as if they didn't know why they needed to be in school other than their parents making them.

Along with the wave of indifference came a tsunami of identity crises that shook the foundations of school cohesion. Middle school students began identifying themselves in the third person, using they/them pronouns. Some went further to identify as the opposite sex. It wasn't just one or two; it was more than half in some classes. Just a mere two months prior, they had been wonderful, loving students with little support required. Now, they all seemed to have issues—anxiety, depression, ADHD—and were happy to tell you about it and even more excited to use it as a way to avoid actual school work.

In times of rapid, drastic change, real leaders emerge. Unfortunately, in many cases, including mine, leadership embraced this new world with little critical thought about the long-term consequences.

Students were allowed to hide their identities from their parents, meaning they could show up at school and change their name and gender, and teachers were not allowed to mention it outside the school walls. Students would come to school with what appeared to be cuts on their arms, and all I could do was hand the case to the leadership.

The trap that school leadership fell into was directly connected to one of the great untruths from The Coddling of the American Mind: "Always trust your feelings." As Haidt and Lukianoff explain, ideas like "personal truth" and "lived experience" too often place feelings on the same level as facts. Feelings, of course, are subject to countless cognitive biases. Facts are facts because they're exempt from feeling.

When we let young people, who are in the midst of puberty's emotional rollercoaster, believe their feelings are the truth, we end up with students identifying as different names and pronouns at school. A leadership team that supports this untruth creates a negative feedback loop where anything goes at any time because students feel like it should. As Katharine Birbalsingh suggests, students need tight guardrails because the world is a big, unknown place. Having boundaries allows them to explore within those boundaries while mitigating danger. This doesn't mean smothering them with rules; it means enforcing the rules to provide the 'safety' that students seek.

Educators have let students' feelings drive their learning, resulting in a curriculum focused on student motivations rather than school goals. A great example is the reduction in the rigor of mathematical education. In California schools, algebra has been removed from the 8th-grade curriculum. In Ontario, 9th grade has become de-streamed (meaning no advanced classes). The goal wasn't to punish the smart but to help motivate the bottom-of-the-curve students who may "hit their stride" as they mature. It was thought that difficult math would turn students off the curriculum before they matured enough to "really get it." Unfortunately, there is no statistical e