Do You Let Your Kids Use AI?

A friend asked me to give a presentation to her PA students last week on AI in medicine. Half of the talk was focused on responsible student use of the technology, and the latter portion on ways AI is quietly entering our industry.

The audience reaction was what I expected. There was curiosity, skepticism, and a bit of uneasiness with how quickly the tool is being adopted and implemented.

In my usual measured approach, I showed the students a few ways it could help them study, but more importantly, all the flaws and guardrails needed for using it responsibly.

During a break in the session, a learner approached me at the podium to ask a question.

I was expecting the usual questions.

What AI tools do you use? Have you seen this new AI thing? How do I make it sound like me? How can I get a better response?

This question was different, very genuine and unscripted, and when she asked it, I could tell she wasn’t looking for a quick answer. She seemed genuinely curious about how someone who uses technology regularly handles it at home.

Do you let your kids use AI?

I paused for several seconds to take in the question. This wasn’t going to be an easy yes or no, and I didn’t have a canned response ready.

Earlier in the talk, I had shared that I was a parent. Anytime I speak in front of a new group, I like to provide some background to both humanize and connect with the audience.

She disclosed immediately she too was a parent and was really struggling to introduce her kids to AI.

I hesitated because this was a question I’d wrestled with before. I use AI regularly for decisions that need to happen faster and thinking that benefits from another angle. But I also worry about what gets handed over too quickly, like habits, dependency, shortcuts and judgment.

In that moment, the real question wasn’t whether AI was good or bad. It was where I needed to draw the line between using a tool for support and handing over judgment that still needed to stay mine.

I call this borrowed judgment. It’s what happens when a system, a routine, a policy, a template, or even other people’s expectations decide when or how to think for us, especially in moments where the thinking still belongs to us and probably deserves more than a few seconds of consideration before we move on to the next thing.

AI is no different.

When judgment gets borrowed, we lose the ability to pause and think on our own. Answers get accepted without asking whether they make sense for us. And more importantly, decisions that deserve consideration get skipped.

I spent most of my talk talking about guardrails, privacy, ethics, and the cautions around AI output. I probably scared more people than encouraged, which is partly my own struggle with it.

Similar to my students, I want my kids to be aware of AI. Education has to teach judgment and how to think with the tools. Pretending they don’t exist doesn’t help anyone. The real work is preparing for the world they’re actually stepping into.

I don’t remember my exact words, but the core of what I said was this. Just because a tool can do something quicker doesn’t always mean it should.

Think about a situation or setting you’ve been in recently. Where have you adopted a tool, policy, or another person’s opinion without deciding what judgment still needs to stay yours?

The question was still on my mind on the drive home.

I thought about the students and what it must be like learning foundational medical knowledge while also accepting the emerging technology they will be responsible for directing. I remember my own 5th grade excitement over inserting a floppy disk to play “Where in the World is Carmen San Diego”, and the computer applications class in high school where we learned MS DOS.

Then I thought about my own kids.

My 6th grader asked me last month if she could use ChatGPT for her science homework. I said yes, then spent the next ten minutes explaining what she still had to figure out herself. I’m not sure either of us left that conversation feeling clear. I started wondering how their teachers were handling this.

Probably a bit like me. With some mix of excitement, curiosity, skepticism, and fear. They’re trying to decide what to keep close and what to let the tools handle, one lesson at a time.

I don’t have a clean answer for every setting. But I’m learning to ask the question before I hand the decision over.

Where have you handed over judgment that still belongs to you?

What came to mind for your? One sentence is enough. Sometimes putting it in words can be helpful.

Do you know someone who’s also wrestling with this? Share it with them.

Until next time.