Mouth of the River

When my teacher finally finishes his lecture, I join my friends in the back of the classroom to complete the assignment that was handed out. It’s later in the day and we’re almost free to go home, which causes the double-sided paper of problems to look especially unappetizing where it lies at our elbows on the table.  

As we attempt to tackle the first couple of questions, my friend drops their pencil, sighs, and concludes, “I just cannot do this right now, I’ll finish it tonight.” To which my other group member pokes jokingly, “Will you do it tonight, or will Chat?”  

I used to cringe at the mention of using artificial intelligence (AI) in schoolwork. In younger grades, it had a heavy correlation with seemingly forbidden ideas like cheating, plagiarism, and ultimately, a mark on your record-giving AI an ominous and almost scandalous connation.  

However, I have been rapidly desensitized to any negative feeling towards the use of AI in academic environments. Using ChatGPT was quickly normalized as classes became increasingly overwhelming, and the workload became heavier. The platform gives quick solutions to upcoming homework problems, instant personalized essays, and libraries of knowledge in just a few clicks. 

As we’ve gotten over the curve of fear, either because the risks were outweighed, or simply through desperation, ChatGPT has made itself a significant part of our lives. I’ve found that there is a broad spectrum of users ranging from light to heavy reliance, and additionally, many people use it in different ways. However, recently I’ve noticed a noticeable increase in behavior trending towards the side most severe. The addicted.  

Today, I’ve found that it’s probably rarer to find someone who isn’t using ChatGPT or other artificial intelligence domains than to find someone who is.  

In a community of high schoolers, AI has become so common to talk about that we’ve nicknamed it for ease in our conversations. Phrases like, “Ask Chat,” or “Just use Chat,” are so frequently used that an untrained ear could believe “Chat”, was actually just a brainy friend that you sit with at lunch and visit for help in Trigonometry.   

Although I have yet to see the use of artificial intelligence classified as an actual addiction, I have seen my peers exhibit similar and intense dependencies on ChatGPT. Like any other addictive substance, the cycle is gradual, but almost certainly vicious. As your use increases, your dependency does too.  

I sat down with K (‘27) after asking my friends if they knew anyone that was exhibiting this alarming behavior. I asked them to tell me about it. 

“I’d say I use AI in every class, probably for every assignment.”  

“Every assignment?” I peppered.  

“Every one.” 

It wasn’t exactly shocking to hear that K was not completing their work organically. After all, it was why I landed the interview with them in the first place. I knew that some of my peers were using AI heavily, but I didn’t realize to what extent it was ranging.  

I quickly understood during our conversation that it didn’t matter what kind of assignment was being handled, or even its difficulty, ChatGPT was going to be used. 

What surprised me most was their demeanor about what would happen if they could not longer use AI.  

“My work habits wouldn’t change. I just wouldn’t do the assignments, and my grades would be a lot worse,” K continued.  

For some students, ChatGPT isn’t just a supplement to the work ethic; it’s the entire thing. K later told me that with their use of AI, they have maintained almost completely straight A’s, even in advanced classes. All without completing assignments naturally, nor the desire to.  

The academic persona ChatGPT created for K was one that completely did not exist outside of the browser. 

K explained that they never found value in the classes they were taking or the assignments they had needed to complete. To them, school was a chore that could easily be handed off to the digital assistant. K decided that if they didn’t care about the work, there was no good reason to complete it themselves. 

Before AI, students similar to K still had the same habits. Either little to no academic drive, or fraudulent tendencies. They would scrape by in their classes and if they got lucky, not get caught cheating. However, after the introduction of artificial intelligence, they didn’t have to worry about flunking out. Their work could be perfect every time with the same amount of dwindling effort.  

I understood after my next conversation that this wasn’t the case for every student using AI. 

“I didn’t do my own piece of writing until the last week of semester two,” said C (’27) referring to their sophomore year. “Everything before that was ChatGPT, in some way.” 

C is infamous for their abusive behavior of AI between my friends, and possibly greater crowds, and often finds themself at the end of constant banter teasing them about it. (From a good place though.) Afterall, C is one of the smartest people we know. 

With this thought in mind, I confronted them. “You’re a smart kid, so why don’t you just do the work yourself,” I questioned.  

C agreed but continued to explain that even if he could, it wasn’t as efficient as using ChatGPT. Generating an assignment at their fingertips was much quicker than working on it for hours. After their repeated use, this process became even easier.  

“It got to a point where I would upload past writings so it would learn to write like me. Then it would take even less time to go through and polish up,” C commented.  

The application learned C’s grammatical habits, tendencies and preferences to compute work that resembled previous submissions. In seconds, C could have an A plus essay, using language that passed as theirs, and go undetected under examination.  

Instead of spending time writing or solving, C could enjoy time with their friends and family. 

“My parents wouldn’t let me go out if I have bad grades,” C continued, “So I use chat to get the work done in less time and go do the things I want to do.” 

K and C simultaneously found reason to not want to do their work, and the thing is, they didn’t have to.  They could do what they wanted and continue to get better grades than their laboring peers. 

K had nearly perfect scores, and C had joined our friends for dinner the weekend before. Evidently, they were making out pretty well.  

 After further evaluating my conversations with C and K, I recognized that there were two types of individuals exploiting AI. Students like C, who were capable of doing the tasks but weren’t willing. Or students like K, who were not going to do the work either way. 

Although their motives contradicted, they still fell into dependency equivalently. C and K similarly described how their use grew, beginning as a helpful tool and then becoming a vital crutch. “I used it a little bit freshman year, then more and more. Then it just became a habit,” explained C.  

Overtime, their use of AI slowly evolved from suggestions of new ideas to suffocating organic ones. As time went by, they became accustomed to their own minds being on the back burner.  

“There have been a couple tricky prompts I’ve been given to by teachers where I’ve actually had to think about the assignment. It was kind of a drag,” K described. “It’s hard to actually sit down and do it.” Even if K wanted to do the assignment, they werent conditioned to complete it like he once was.  

Like any other muscle, the brain stops growing and adapting when it stops being exercised. If there are no problems to overcome, problem solving skills are not necessary to build. This is incredibly dangerous for high school students who currently are at a crucial point for brain development. 

Laziness sprouted by ChatGPT has become an increasing issue since the domain’s debut in 2022, especially in schools. Forbes said, “In June of 2025, MIT released the results from a study showing significant differences in the brain functioning between ChatGPT users, participants who used search engines, and those who only used their own creative skills to write essays. According to this study, EEG measurements across the brain showed that over four months, the ChatGPT users displayed the lowest brain activity and performed worse than their counterparts at all neural, linguistic, and behavioral levels.” 

As C explained their habitual return to AI, I could not help but think of the detrimental effect it was likely causing. I asked C honestly if they thought that eventually, it was going to come back to bite them.  

C thought for a moment before responding, their answer was mixed, “I think on the off chance I eventually do need these very niche skills we learn in school, then yes it will come back to bite me,” C paused then concluded. “But overall, what I am going to need isn’t only from school, it’s also the outside experiences that I can only do with the time I get from using Chat.”  

For C’s sake, I hope they were right. Undeniably, education is not just what is being taught in classrooms; it is also real-world exposure. On the other hand, the struggle we go through learning and working on these seemingly random concepts is what is contributing to building our integrity and determination as people. 

Assignments that can appear unimportant can act as smaller metaphors to challenges we will face and must overcome later. How we respond and adapt to these problems is preparing us for how we apply ourselves to issues in our futures.  

ChatGPT can seem like an easy way out of academic stress, but in reality, it’s an unsustainable quick fix to a much larger issue. By using AI to complete our work, we’re not just cheating our assignments; we’re cheating our minds. 

-Elsa Svenson