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Re-imagining Critical Thinking in Higher Education in the Age of Artificial Intelligence (Part 2)

By Dr. Gilbert A. Ang’ana

Did you miss Part 1 of this article series? Find it here. This article is part 2 of 4 of the series. Follow me for details of all the parts.

Artificial Intelligence Is Changing the Nature of Learning, Not Just the Tools of Learning

The conversation about artificial intelligence in higher education has largely focused on what students can do with AI. A far more important question, however, is what AI is doing to students’ thinking. This distinction is critical because education is fundamentally concerned with cognitive development rather than task completion. Universities do not exist to help students complete assignments efficiently; they exist to cultivate the intellectual capabilities that enable graduates to solve problems independently, make sound judgments, adapt to uncertainty, and generate new knowledge, especially at postgraduate level throughout their lives. Artificial intelligence therefore demands more than a technological response; it demands a re-examination of how human learning actually occurs.

Learning is often misunderstood as the accumulation of information. Contemporary research in cognitive psychology, neuroscience, and the learning sciences paints a very different picture. Learning is an active biological and cognitive process in which the brain constructs, reorganizes, and strengthens neural pathways through sustained engagement with ideas. Knowledge is not transferred into the mind like files copied onto a computer; it is actively built through questioning, reasoning, reflection, feedback, and repeated application. This process requires mental effort. Indeed, the very struggle associated with learning is not a sign of failure but evidence that meaningful learning is taking place.

One of the most recent concepts explaining this phenomenon is what Robert and Elizabeth Bjork describe as “desirable difficulties.” Their research demonstrates that learning strategies requiring greater cognitive effort often produce stronger long-term understanding than approaches that make learning appear easy (Bjork & Bjork, 2011). Activities such as recalling information from memory, solving unfamiliar problems, explaining concepts to others, and applying knowledge in new contexts create productive challenges that strengthen learning. Students frequently perceive these activities as difficult because they demand sustained mental engagement. Yet neuroscience suggests that such effort promotes learning by reinforcing neural connections associated with memory retrieval and conceptual understanding.

This insight has profound implications for artificial intelligence. AI significantly reduces many of the desirable difficulties through which expertise develops. A student struggling to synthesize competing academic perspectives can now obtain a coherent synthesis within seconds. A learner wrestling with the structure of an argument can request an instantly polished essay. Programming errors can be corrected automatically. Mathematical solutions can be generated without requiring students to identify underlying principles. While these capabilities undoubtedly improve efficiency, they may also limit opportunities for the cognitive effort that transforms novice learners into independent thinkers.

The same argument emerges from another principle in educational psychology: retrieval practice. Brown, Roediger, and McDaniel (2014), drawing upon decades of empirical research, demonstrate that actively retrieving knowledge from memory produces substantially deeper learning than repeatedly reviewing information. The act of recalling concepts, solving problems without immediate assistance, and reconstructing knowledge strengthens long-term retention while improving learners’ ability to transfer understanding to unfamiliar situations. Put simply, students learn more effectively when they are required to think rather than just recognize information.

Artificial intelligence changes this equation. When answers become immediately available, learners may bypass retrieval altogether. Instead of reconstructing knowledge through deliberate reasoning, they increasingly consult AI systems capable of generating persuasive responses almost instantaneously. The immediate result is greater efficiency. The long-term consequence, however, may be weaker conceptual understanding because the cognitive processes responsible for strengthening learning are exercised less frequently.

Closely related is the concept of metacognition, the capacity to think about one’s own thinking. Effective learners continuously monitor what they know, identify gaps in understanding, evaluate the quality of their reasoning, and regulate their learning strategies accordingly. Metacognition enables individuals to distinguish genuine understanding from superficial familiarity. It is widely regarded as one of the strongest predictors of academic success and lifelong learning. Generative AI presents both opportunities and risks for metacognitive development. Used well, AI can support reflection by providing alternative explanations, generating feedback, or exposing learners to competing viewpoints. Used uncritically, however, it can create an illusion of understanding. Students may mistake AI-generated explanations for personal comprehension simply because the output appears coherent and convincing. They may recognize an argument without ever constructing it themselves. This distinction is subtle but fundamental.

Understanding produced by external systems should never be confused with understanding developed through internal cognitive effort.

The work of educational psychologist John Sweller further illuminates this challenge. Sweller’s Cognitive Load Theory argues that human working memory possesses limited capacity and that effective instructional design should reduce unnecessary mental demands while preserving the cognitive effort essential for learning (Sweller, 1988). Importantly, Sweller does not advocate eliminating intellectual challenge altogether. Rather, he distinguishes between cognitive load that interferes with learning and cognitive effort that promotes it. Artificial intelligence has enormous potential to reduce unproductive cognitive burdens. For example, by automating repetitive administrative tasks, summarizing large volumes of information, or providing immediate formative feedback. These applications can free learners to focus on higher-order reasoning. Problems arise, however, when AI eliminates the productive cognitive work that students themselves must perform to develop expertise.

Educational researchers Paul Kirschner and Carl Hendrick have similarly cautioned against misconceptions about learning that prioritise convenience over cognition. Their work consistently demonstrates that expertise develops through deliberate practice, sustained attention, feedback, and repeated engagement with increasingly complex problems rather than through passive exposure to information (Kirschner & Hendrick, 2020). Learning, they argue, cannot be outsourced. Technologies may support it, accelerate aspects of it, or enrich it, but they cannot replace the biological and cognitive processes through which understanding is constructed.

Perhaps the most directly relevant concept for the AI era is cognitive offloading. Risko and Gilbert (2016) define cognitive offloading as the use of physical actions or external technologies to reduce the mental effort required for cognitive tasks. Humans have always offloaded aspects of cognition. We write notes instead of memorizing everything, use calculators instead of performing lengthy arithmetic mentally, and rely on GPS rather than memorizing complex routes. These practices are not inherently problematic. Indeed, they often enhance productivity and allow cognitive resources to be redirected toward more sophisticated tasks. The challenge arises when cognitive offloading replaces rather than complements higher-order thinking. Artificial intelligence differs fundamentally from earlier technologies because it increasingly performs tasks involving analysis, evaluation, synthesis, writing, reasoning, and creative generation, functions that lie at the heart of university education.

The critical question is therefore no longer whether students should use external tools. Rather, it is which aspects of cognition should remain fundamentally human.

Recent analyses by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) reinforce this concern. The OECD argues that generative AI should not be viewed primarily as a substitute for human intelligence but as a technology requiring education systems to place greater emphasis on analytical thinking, critical reasoning, ethical judgment, collaboration, and creativity, precisely because these uniquely human competencies become more valuable as AI capabilities expand (OECD, 2024). The future graduate will not compete with artificial intelligence by memorizing more information than machines. Graduates will distinguish themselves through their capacity to evaluate AI outputs, challenge assumptions, navigate ambiguity, integrate diverse perspectives, and make decisions grounded in ethical and contextual understanding.

The implications are profound. Artificial intelligence is not just changing how students learn; it is changing what it means to learn. The challenge for higher education is therefore not preserving traditional teaching methods but ensuring that technological efficiency does not come at the expense of intellectual development. Universities must intentionally design learning experiences that preserve the cognitive effort necessary for critical thinking while harnessing AI’s extraordinary capacity to enhance teaching and research. The objective should not be frictionless learning. It should be meaningful learning.

The New Crisis Nobody Is Talking About – The Outsourcing of Human Thinking

Public debate about artificial intelligence in higher education has been dominated by one issue: plagiarism. Universities have invested heavily in AI detection software, revised academic integrity policies, redesigned assessment regulations, and debated whether students should be permitted to use generative AI in coursework. While these discussions are understandable, they may also be distracting institutions from a much deeper educational crisis.

The greatest threat posed by artificial intelligence is not that students will submit work they did not write. It is that they may gradually stop doing the thinking that universities exist to develop.

This distinction fundamentally changes the nature of the debate. Academic integrity has traditionally focused on authorship. Did the student produce the submitted work? Was the assignment completed honestly? Were appropriate sources acknowledged? These remain essential questions. Yet in the age of artificial intelligence, they are no longer sufficient. A student may fully disclose AI use, comply with institutional guidelines, submit technically original work, and still engage in remarkably little independent thinking. The assignment may satisfy formal requirements while failing to achieve the educational purpose for which it was designed. This possibility exposes a critical weakness in many current university policies. Institutions are concentrating on protecting the originality of academic products while paying comparatively little attention to protecting the originality of intellectual processes. Yet universities exist primarily to cultivate the latter.

Original writing is not the same as original thinking.

An essay can be original because it has never previously existed, while the intellectual work underpinning it has been largely performed by artificial intelligence. Conversely, a student may produce an entirely authentic argument that builds thoughtfully upon existing scholarship, demonstrating deep reasoning, careful judgment, and genuine intellectual growth. The educational value lies not simply in the finished document but in the quality of thinking that produced it. This distinction is perhaps the most important educational question raised by generative AI. Higher education has assessed written assignments as proxies for cognitive development. Essays, dissertations, laboratory reports, policy analyses, and research projects were never valuable simply because they produced text. They were valuable because the process of constructing them required students to analyse evidence, compare competing ideas, organize arguments, reflect critically, solve problems, and communicate reasoning. Writing served as evidence that thinking had occurred.

Artificial intelligence disrupts this relationship. Today, it is increasingly possible to generate sophisticated academic products without engaging fully in the intellectual processes they were designed to measure. The educational risk therefore lies not in the technology itself but in confusing the production of knowledge artifacts with the development of human understanding. This phenomenon might be described as cognitive outsourcing, the progressive transfer of higher-order intellectual responsibilities from human learners to intelligent systems. Unlike traditional cognitive offloading, which largely involved routine memory or computational tasks, cognitive outsourcing reaches into the very capacities that define university education: interpretation, synthesis, evaluation, critical reflection, creativity, and judgment.

The consequences may emerge gradually rather than dramatically. Students may become less comfortable grappling with ambiguity because AI rapidly supplies answers. They may invest less time evaluating competing arguments because AI conveniently synthesizes them. They may lose confidence in developing independent positions because machine-generated responses appear more articulate than their own early drafts. Over time, intellectual perseverance, the willingness to wrestle with difficult ideas may quietly decline. This concern finds support in broader research on expertise development. Experts differ from novices not because they possess more information alone, but because they have developed richer conceptual frameworks, stronger pattern recognition, more refined judgment, and greater capacity to navigate uncertainty. These qualities emerge through years of deliberate practice, reflection, feedback, and sustained engagement with complex problems. They cannot simply be downloaded or generated on demand.

Ironically, artificial intelligence makes independent thinking more valuable, not less.

As AI systems become increasingly capable of generating information, summarizing evidence, drafting reports, and automating routine analysis, human comparative advantage shifts toward those capacities machines cannot reliably replicate. Ethical reasoning. Contextual judgment. Intellectual humility. Curiosity. Moral imagination. The ability to ask questions no algorithm has been instructed to answer. The wisdom to know when evidence is insufficient. The courage to challenge consensus. These are not residual skills left over after technological progress. They are becoming the defining competencies of leadership in an AI-mediated world.

This has profound implications for universities across Africa. The continent’s greatest resource is not artificial intelligence itself but its people, the creativity, resilience, diversity, and intellectual potential of one of the world’s youngest populations. If higher education unintentionally encourages graduates to depend on AI for thinking rather than empowering them to think with AI, Africa risks becoming a consumer of algorithmic intelligence developed elsewhere rather than a producer of contextually grounded knowledge and innovation. The challenge is therefore much larger than regulating AI use in examinations or detecting machine-generated assignments. Universities must redesign educational systems around a more fundamental objective: ensuring that every encounter with artificial intelligence strengthens rather than substitutes the learner’s own reasoning.

The future will not belong to graduates who can just prompt AI more effectively than others. It will belong to those who can critically evaluate its outputs, identify its limitations, recognise its biases, integrate its insights with human experience, and exercise the wisdom to know when the machine is wrong. In that sense, the defining purpose of higher education has not changed. It has become even more important. The central question is no longer whether students are using artificial intelligence. The central question is whether artificial intelligence is still being used in ways that preserve, deepen, and ultimately expand humanity’s capacity to think.

Part 3 will explore why protecting critical thinking matters even more for Africa. Stay tuned and follow the conversation.

Author

Dr. Gilbert A. Ang’ana is the Dean of School of Leadership, Business, and Technology at Pan Africa Christian (PAC) University whose research focus is on values-based and collaborative leadership and governance in Africa. He is a leadership, governance and policy consultant, teacher and coach and the Founder of Accent Leadership Group and Accent Global Initiative (Think Tank)

Silhouette of student walking near illuminated digital brain display on campus at twilight

Re-imagining Critical Thinking in Higher Education in the Age of Artificial Intelligence

Why the Future of Higher Education Depends Not on Resisting AI, but on Re-imagining the Uniquely Human Capacities That AI Cannot Replace

By Dr. Gilbert A. Ang’ana

This article represents Part 1 of a 4-part series of perspectives I share on this topic

Throughout history, every major technological revolution has transformed the way human beings access, create, and share knowledge. The invention of the printing press democratized learning by making books widely available. The Industrial Revolution reshaped education to prepare citizens for an emerging economic order. The advent of computers accelerated information processing beyond human capacity, while the internet fundamentally changed how knowledge is stored, accessed, and exchanged across the globe. Each of these innovations altered the educational landscape, but none fundamentally challenged the very nature of human cognition in the way that artificial intelligence now does.

Generative Artificial Intelligence (AI) is not simply another technology. It represents a profound shift in the relationship between humans and knowledge itself. Unlike previous technologies that expanded human access to information, AI increasingly performs intellectual tasks that were once considered uniquely human. It can generate essays, summarize research papers, write software code, solve complex mathematical problems, create policy analyses, translate languages, produce artistic works, and engage in sophisticated dialogue within seconds. For the first time in history, humanity has developed machines capable of producing coherent knowledge artifacts rather than just storing or transmitting information.

This distinction is critical. Search engines such as Google revolutionized information retrieval by helping people locate existing knowledge. Generative AI goes a step further; it creates new content that resembles human reasoning, often making it difficult to distinguish between machine-generated and human-generated thought. While these systems do not “think” in the philosophical sense, their outputs increasingly simulate many aspects of human cognition, raising profound questions about learning, expertise, creativity, authorship, and intellectual development.

The implications for higher education are both extraordinary and unsettling. Universities have embraced technological innovations throughout their history because they enhanced teaching, research, and scholarly communication. Artificial intelligence undoubtedly offers similar opportunities. It can personalize learning, improve accessibility for students with diverse needs, automate routine administrative tasks, accelerate scientific discovery, support interdisciplinary research, and expand educational opportunities to previously underserved communities (UNESCO, 2023). Properly deployed, AI has the potential to become one of the most transformative educational tools ever created.

Yet beneath this optimism lies a far more fundamental challenge that has received comparatively little attention. The central question confronting higher education is no longer whether universities should adopt artificial intelligence; they inevitably have, should and will. Nor is the primary concern whether students will use AI to complete assignments. Those debates, while important, focus on symptoms rather than the underlying issue. The more profound question is this: what happens to human intellectual development when technologies increasingly perform the cognitive work that they were designed to cultivate?

This is not a question about technology. It is a question about the future purpose of higher education.

For centuries, universities have existed as institutions dedicated to cultivating minds rather than simply transmitting information. Their enduring value has never resided in possessing knowledge unavailable elsewhere. Universities flourished long before libraries became widespread because they nurtured habits of disciplined inquiry, logical reasoning, ethical reflection, and scholarly debate. As access to information expanded through books, journals, and later the internet, the university’s purpose did not diminish. Instead, its role became even more important: helping learners distinguish reliable knowledge from speculation, evidence from opinion, and wisdom from mere information.

Artificial intelligence now compels universities to revisit this foundational purpose.

The debate surrounding AI has, in many respects, been framed too narrowly. Discussions often centre on plagiarism detection, academic misconduct, assessment redesign, or the technical integration of AI tools into classrooms. While these are legitimate concerns, they overlook a more consequential risk: the gradual outsourcing of human cognition. If students increasingly rely on AI to analyse, synthesise, evaluate, and generate ideas, they may complete academic tasks more efficiently while simultaneously engaging less deeply in the intellectual processes through which expertise develops. The greatest threat posed by AI to higher education is therefore not academic dishonesty. It is the possibility that universities are inadvertently producing graduates who possess unprecedented access to knowledge yet lack the capacity to think independently about it.

This challenge extends far beyond the classroom. Around the world, democratic societies are confronting growing volumes of misinformation, algorithmic bias, synthetic media, and AI-generated content that blur the boundaries between truth and fabrication. Citizens are increasingly required to evaluate competing claims, verify sources, interpret evidence, and make informed judgments in environments characterised by uncertainty and information overload. In such a world, the competitive advantage of individuals and nations will not depend solely on access to artificial intelligence. It will depend on cultivating citizens capable of questioning artificial intelligence itself.

Consequently, the future of higher education should not be framed as a choice between embracing AI and protecting traditional educational practices. That is a false dichotomy. Artificial intelligence is now an irreversible feature of contemporary society and will continue transforming education, research, industry, healthcare, governance, and public life. The real challenge is ensuring that AI amplifies rather than replaces the uniquely human capacities upon which democratic societies, ethical leadership, scientific progress, and sustainable development ultimately depend.

Re-imagining critical thinking, therefore, is not an argument against artificial intelligence. It is the condition necessary for artificial intelligence to serve humanity responsibly.

The University Has Never Been About Information

To understand why re-imagining critical thinking has become such an urgent imperative, we must first revisit a more fundamental question that has quietly shaped higher education for centuries: What is a university actually for?

This question is surprisingly easy to overlook in an era obsessed with employability, technological disruption, university rankings, salaries, and digital transformation. Increasingly, higher education is evaluated through metrics that emphasise economic returns, research outputs, innovation ecosystems, and workforce readiness. These outcomes undoubtedly matter. Universities contribute significantly to national development, scientific discovery, technological innovation, and economic competitiveness. Yet reducing higher education to these functions alone risks overlooking its deeper intellectual and civic purpose.

The defining characteristic of a university has never been its ability to provide information. Information has always existed beyond university walls. Before the printing press, knowledge circulated through oral traditions, monasteries, and scholarly communities. The invention of print dramatically expanded access to learning. Public libraries further democratized knowledge. The internet subsequently made billions of pages of information accessible within seconds, fundamentally altering how societies learn. Search engines then organised this vast digital landscape, enabling individuals to retrieve information almost instantaneously.

If universities existed primarily to distribute information, they would have become obsolete long before the emergence of artificial intelligence.

Instead, universities endured because their purpose has always extended beyond information itself. Their enduring contribution lies in transforming information into understanding, understanding into judgment, and judgment into wise action. Universities cultivate the intellectual virtues that enable individuals not only to know more, but to think more carefully, question more deeply, and act more responsibly.

This philosophical understanding of higher education has deep historical roots. In The Idea of a University, first published in 1852, John Henry Newman argued that the purpose of a university is not simply vocational preparation or the accumulation of specialised knowledge, but the formation of an “enlargement of mind.” Newman believed that higher education develops the capacity to view knowledge as an interconnected whole, fostering intellectual independence, sound judgment, and disciplined reasoning rather than narrow technical competence (Newman, 1852/1982). For Newman, education was valuable because it cultivated habits of thought that enabled individuals to discern truth amid complexity.

Nearly a century later, the American philosopher and educational reformer John Dewey expanded this by arguing that education is fundamentally a process of reflective inquiry rather than passive knowledge transmission. Learning, he maintained, occurs when individuals confront genuine problems, investigate evidence, test ideas, and revise their understanding through experience. Schools and universities therefore fulfil their democratic mission by nurturing citizens capable of thoughtful deliberation rather than unquestioning acceptance of authority (Dewey, 1916). Dewey’s philosophy remains remarkably relevant in an age where AI can instantly generate persuasive answers. The educational challenge is no longer helping students find information; it is ensuring they possess the intellectual habits necessary to interrogate it.

Similarly, Brazilian educator Paulo Freire rejected what he famously described as the “banking model” of education, in which teachers deposit information into passive learners. Instead, Freire envisioned education as a dialogical process that develops critical consciousness, the capacity to question social realities, challenge assumptions, and participate actively in transforming society (Freire, 1970). Education, in Freire’s view, is not measured by how much information students can reproduce, but by whether they develop the courage and ability to think critically about the world they inhabit.

More recently, higher education scholar Ronald Barnett has argued that universities must prepare graduates not just for known professions but for an increasingly uncertain world characterised by complexity, ambiguity, and rapid change. Barnett suggests that higher education should cultivate what he calls an “ecology of knowing,” where learners develop criticality, resilience, ethical responsibility, and the capacity to navigate supercomplexity rather than simply master established bodies of knowledge (Barnett, 2000; Barnett, 2012). His work is particularly instructive for the AI era because artificial intelligence excels at reproducing existing knowledge but cannot independently and effectively cultivate the moral judgment, intellectual humility, and contextual understanding required for wise human action.

Therefore, Newman, Dewey, Freire, and Barnett articulate a remarkably consistent philosophy despite writing across different centuries and contexts. They remind us that universities exist to cultivate qualities of mind rather than just repositories of information. A true graduate is distinguished not by possessing more facts than others, but by demonstrating stronger judgment, greater curiosity, deeper reasoning, ethical discernment, intellectual courage, and a lifelong commitment to learning.

These qualities have become even more valuable in the age of artificial intelligence. Today, virtually every university student carries in their pocket access to more information than entire research libraries contained only a generation ago. Increasingly, they also carry access to systems capable of summarising, analysing, translating, coding, drafting, and explaining that information almost instantly. Information is no longer scarce; it is abundant. Artificial intelligence is making knowledge generation increasingly abundant as well. The scarcity now lies elsewhere. It lies in wisdom. It lies in discernment. It lies in ethical judgment. It lies in the capacity to determine which evidence deserves trust, which arguments withstand scrutiny, which technologies serve humanity, and which should be challenged.

That is why re-imagining critical thinking has become the defining mission of higher education in the age of artificial intelligence. Universities are no longer the world’s primary custodians of information. Their enduring purpose is far more ambitious. They are the institutions entrusted with cultivating the intellectual character necessary for societies to use information, and now artificial intelligence, wisely.

The future relevance of the university will therefore not be determined by whether it adopts AI more rapidly than other institutions. It will be determined by whether it remains the place where human judgment, ethical reasoning, curiosity, and critical inquiry are deliberately nurtured in a world increasingly capable of automating knowledge production itself.

Let me stop here for Part 1 of this series of articles on this topic; follow my next Part 2 soon, which will deep dive into how Artificial Intelligence Is Changing the Nature of Learning, Not Just the Tools of Learning.

Author

Dr. Gilbert A. Ang’ana is the Dean of School of Leadership, Business, and Technology at Pan Africa Christian (PAC) University whose research focus is on values-based and collaborative leadership and governance in Africa. He is a leadership, governance and policy consultant, teacher and coach and the Founder of Accent Leadership Group and Accent Global Initiative (Think Tank)