AI and Education: Abya Yala and MIT

By Javier Surasky

Student in a classroom beside an artificial intelligence figure, with a global digital map, cloud servers, and legal scales.

Two Texts, One Problem, Several Dimensions, and Many Agreements

In August 2026, two works were published on the relationship between artificial intelligence and education: the Report of MIT’s Ad Hoc Committee on AI Use in Teaching, Learning, and Research Training, and Manual urgente sobre IA en el aula. Miradas y análisis de la esfera digital desde Abya Yala, by Mariana Ferrarelli and Natalia Corvalán, published by the Center for the Study of Digital Society at EIDAES-UNSAM.

The texts were written for different contexts: the MIT report responds to the needs of a research-intensive university and devotes considerable attention to its residential experience, while Ferrarelli and Corvalán’s work is addressed primarily to secondary school teachers and situates its analysis in Abya Yala, exposing the inequalities of the region’s educational systems and the material conditions under which digital technologies are expanding.

Those different points of departure explain much of the emphasis that follows.

There is one common point that organizes much of both texts: the idea that the use of AI must be justified by educational purposes. This shifts the discussion toward the learning an activity is meant to produce, rather than toward how to operate a model more effectively or how to prompt it correctly.

Returning to the Objectives of Education

The MIT Committee reviews practices that have served for years to teach and assess, from problem sets and written assignments to take-home exams, all of which can now be completed with the assistance of generative systems.

One possible reaction, they tell us, is to move more assessments into the classroom. But the report itself points out the limits of that solution: in-person tasks constrained by short time frames may be poorly suited to forms of learning that require extended elaboration. This leads the Committee to favor oral exams and work developed outside the classroom that must then be discussed in person (Massachusetts Institute of Technology [MIT], 2026, pp. 11–13).

The report turns to backward design to organize these decisions: learning outcomes are determined first, and only then are activities and forms of assessment designed, with AI policy incorporated into that process, on the premise that “intentional teaching promotes intentional learning” (MIT, 2026, p. 6).

The authorization or restriction of a tool should therefore be explainable in terms of what students are expected to learn.

The Manual urgente reaches a similar position through the notion of the sociotechnical assemblage, arguing that AI applications are part of a structure involving models and data, infrastructure, human decisions, economic interests, and regulation. This broadens what counts as a pedagogical decision and leads Ferrarelli and Corvalán to maintain that the use of AI requires “decisions anchored in the teacher’s educational purposes and not in the technical possibilities of the tool” (2026, p. 10). Once again, the question of use appears only after the educational problem one is trying to address has been defined (Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, p. 10).

The two formulations come from different conceptual frameworks: while MIT relies on the design of learning experiences, the Manual urgente also examines the technological mediations that intervene in them. Those different starting points nevertheless lead to a similar and practical conclusion: the mere availability of a technological function has no pedagogical value in itself.

This position has direct implications for the rules governing the use of AI in education. MIT rejects a uniform policy for all subjects since, for example, an introductory course may need to protect certain practices while students are acquiring basic knowledge, whereas in more advanced stages of training, the use of AI tools may be part of the expected learning. The MIT Committee proposes that instructors and departments make these decisions within a common institutional framework and explain their reasons in relation to the objectives of the course (MIT, 2026, pp. 7, 16–17).

The Manual urgente faces a similar problem, but on a different scale: the authors argue that “the incorporation of these technologies cannot be left to individual decisions or to the logic of trial and error” (Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, p. 44). Situated criteria require institutional reference points capable of guiding the decisions of each educational community.

What Is Delegated When We Automate

Both texts also pause over the tasks that are delegated.

MIT refers to the principle of augmentation, not automation, to examine what happens when a system performs part of the work that previously belonged to the student, affecting the learning process in such a way that the student may arrive at a correct answer without developing the capacities they were supposed to acquire in order to solve it. In response to this, the report is clear in stating that there is such a thing as a misuse of AI, which “should be used to augment and enhance curiosity, creativity, and learning, not automate them” (MIT, 2026, p. 7).

Moreover, during the Committee’s consultations, signs emerged of changes in academic sociability: variations in attendance at office hours and participation in discussions, as well as a decline in in-person study groups. Although the latter are presented as “anecdotal,” they seem relevant to me, all the more so if we consider that the document is still working with partial evidence and with recent phenomena (MIT, 2026, pp. 3, 9).

The Undergraduate Research Opportunities Program offers a concrete case: some faculty members were considering using AI agents for tasks that had previously been assigned to students involved in research projects. This is an understandable choice from the perspective of immediate productivity, but unacceptable from a formative view of students’ capacities, since it closes off their possibility of gaining experience through participation in research work and contact with more experienced researchers (MIT, 2026, pp. 14–15).

This clash of priorities leads MIT to speak of the need for an educational social contract, defined as “a shared understanding among students, instructors, and the Institute about the purposes of education” (MIT, 2026, p. 8). Within that contract, rules for the use of AI are integrated insofar as they are part of preexisting relationships among those who teach, those who learn, and the institution responsible for organizing that experience (MIT, 2026, p. 8).

Ferrarelli and Corvalán, by contrast, recover the paradigm of care in order to examine related questions: the Manual urgente situates this perspective within pedagogical currents and educational policies that predate the expansion of AI, and from there they analyze discourses that value technologies for the automation they enable or for the time savings they promise. They also show how educational assessment incorporates considerations related to learning conditions and to the responsibilities of institutions toward those who participate in them (Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, pp. 33–34).

This framing explains the manual’s distinction between teaching with AI and teaching for AI. The first refers to learning situations in which these technologies perform some pedagogical function; the second points to the formation of criteria for understanding the algorithmic systems that intervene in educational and social contexts. The distinction establishes that knowledge of a tool is one part of literacy, but that it must necessarily be accompanied by an understanding of the decisions embedded in its design and of the effects its use may produce (Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, pp. 36–37).

Materiality Changes the Problem

Materiality occupies different places in the two works: the MIT report includes privacy, intellectual property, inequalities of access, and corporate concentration among the issues an institutional policy should consider, and also devotes attention to environmental impact (MIT, 2026, p. 27).

In the Manual urgente, these elements are part of the sociotechnical definition adopted from the outset, and an entire chapter studies the material infrastructure of AI, its environmental impacts, and the human labor present in chains that often appear to users as automated processes. This integrated analysis builds on previous research on the materiality of AI and on the human labor that sustains its operation (Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, pp. 26–29).

The regional perspective also incorporates the geographic distribution of technological capacities. To do so, the authors draw on the Atlas de inteligencia artificial para el desarrollo humano en América Latina y el Caribe, coordinated by Gustavo Beliz, which points to the concentration of data centers and computing capacity outside the region and connects that distribution to the margins available for developing technological policies of one’s own (Beliz, 2025, as cited in Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, p. 34).

The educational incorporation of AI thus takes on a specific meaning, since schools in the region operate under very different conditions in terms of infrastructure and resource availability. For that reason, the adoption of AI is analyzed together with the institutional capacities needed to sustain it and subject it to educational criteria (Ferrarelli & Corvalán, 2026, pp. 33–34).

At MIT, these elements form part of the responsibilities that accompany an institutional policy; in the UNSAM text, by contrast, they enter into the explanation of how these technologies are constituted.

That distinction affects the field of decision-making: an institution can define rules of use for teachers and students, but the real conditions of that use depend on providers and infrastructures over which the institution has almost no control.

From Teaching Criteria to Institutional Capacity

The MIT report proposes reviewing assessments, reconsidering some grading systems, increasing certain in-person activities, and establishing explicit policies for each subject. These measures would be accompanied by structures responsible for gathering evidence and revising the rules adopted as technologies change and their effects become better understood (MIT, 2026, pp. 12–18, 28). This “continuous review” occupies an important place in the report, and the Committee assumes that the decisions adopted in 2026 will probably have to be modified. This leads it to recommend procedures capable of producing evidence and correcting policies as their results become clearer (MIT, 2026, p. 28).

Ferrarelli and Corvalán find a similar logic in some Argentine regulatory processes, such as the creation of the Artificial Intelligence Observatory of the Federal Council of Education, where they speak of “progressive regulation” as a process of producing evidence and developing criteria that accompanies a field that remains unstable (2026, p. 44).

Both works assume that educational institutions are already making decisions about AI, even when they lack explicit guiding policies: the MIT report responds through a program of experimentation and revision, while Ferrarelli and Corvalán’s work insists on keeping open the discussion about the conditions under which the technology is incorporated. This leads them to write one of my favorite sentences in their work: “in a scenario where technologies are often presented as inevitable, recovering the question becomes a countercultural gesture” (2026, p. 47).

Conclusion

MIT observes a university that needs to reorganize educational practices in response to generative systems already integrated into academic life. The Manual urgente situates those decisions within a technological structure whose infrastructure, resources, and capacities are distributed unequally.

Taken together, the two works pose a question that goes beyond the authorization or prohibition of tools, and that I find much more interesting than either extreme: What real margin do educational institutions still have to define the conditions under which they accept the intervention of these technologies in teaching?

With more similarities than differences, despite their different realities and starting points, both reports invite us to complicate simple views, to think about the double functions of AI in education, and to move beyond “technology in the classroom” in order to place both within situated, unequal, and complex societies. Too often, those societies seem to expect schools to act as islands immune to social conflict. And that, I would say, might perhaps be the greatest tragedy that could happen to us.


References

Ferrarelli, M., & Corvalán, N. (2026). Manual urgente sobre IA en el aula: Miradas y análisis de la esfera digital desde Abya Yala. Colección Miradas del CESDi.

Massachusetts Institute of Technology. (2026, August 13). Report of MIT’s Ad Hoc Committee on AI Use in Teaching, Learning, and Research Training.