From the advent of personal computing to the AI-infused versions of just about everything, I’ve long been fascinated with the technology that props up our world. In communications, knowing what’s new—or what’s coming next—is especially helpful.
As a career “early adopter,” though, I’ve learned something: it’s often more economical to buy the older model. There’s always plenty of buzz surrounding whatever is new. A year later, much of the excitement about that same product can be found on the clearance shelf when retailers need room for the next version. Sometimes it pays to wait.
By version two or three, somebody has discovered the bugs, identified the shortcomings, and figured out what sounded better in the sales pitch than it worked in real life.
That principle extends far beyond technology. I was reminded of it by two recent education stories. New York City Public Schools announced restrictions on generative AI use for younger students, while the American Psychological Association has raised concerns that educational technology can increase engagement and immediate performance without necessarily producing deeper learning.
Put those thoughts together and an important distinction emerges:
Getting something done and developing the human capacity to do it are not the same thing.
AI can write a polished paragraph, summarize a difficult chapter, solve a problem, or organize an argument in seconds. That’s impressive. But if a young person routinely bypasses the struggle required to develop those abilities, we may improve the product while weakening the process that produces a capable person.
And that becomes about much more than school. There’s no fast track to wisdom. There isn’t one for physical fitness either. Both require repetition, resistance, and time.
The same is true spiritually. We can listen to a sermon without wrestling with Scripture. We can read somebody else’s devotional without spending time in prayer. We can even ask technology to explain a Bible passage and give us three practical applications.
None of those things is necessarily wrong. But there’s a difference between receiving an answer and being formed through the process of seeking one.
Hebrews 5:14 speaks of people who “by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” James tells us not merely to hear the Word, but to do what it says.
Those phrases—constant use, trained themselves, do what it says—aren’t descriptions of shortcuts. They’re descriptions of formation.
Technology can be enormously useful. I certainly don’t plan to stop using it. But maybe the question we should ask about every new convenience isn’t simply, “What can this do for me?” We should also ask, “What might I stop learning to do for myself?”
Some struggles shouldn’t be eliminated too quickly. Wrestling with a problem is sometimes how we learn to think. Working through disagreement can teach patience. Sitting quietly with Scripture teaches us to listen. Doing the hard thing repeatedly can develop something in us that no shortcut can provide.
There’s no fast track to wisdom. Information can produce an answer. Formation produces a person.