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I still remember the exact seat where I was sitting.   

It was 20 years ago, and I was primed for one of the key exams in my tertiary education. I’d passed Teeline shorthand at 40 words a minute. 50 words, 60 words, 70 words. To progress on my journalism course and ultimately earn a degree I had one final challenge: I had to pass a Teeline shorthand exam at 80 words a minute.  

We learnt Teeline from a wonderful tutor, a woman named Julie with exacting standards, a wicked sense of humour, and a way with words. She’d peer over your shoulder when you were tracing out different characters.  

“That’s a squitty-looking outline,” she’d say with a wry smile. 

The moment I realised I’d passed 80 words a minute, I walked up to the front of the class and kissed her on the cheek. It took five months of work with daily lessons. I drilled myself with cassette tapes at home. But in a stuffy room on Madras Street, finally, I’d done it. 

But here’s the crazy thing. That was the very last time I seriously used Teeline shorthand. That’s no reflection on Julie. She was an amazing tutor, and shorthand skills had been fundamental for journalists for however-many decades. But back in 2005, what no one had apparently stopped to consider was whether those skills would be necessary in a world on the cusp on smart phones. What’s the point in trying to keep up with shorthand when your phone can record a verbatim interview and even transcribe it in real time? 

Since our son was born, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about my shorthand experience in the context of AI. And I kept returning to a fundamental question: what skills and knowledge should we actually be teaching our kids?  

In the UK, surveys have suggested that 90% of university students are using AI to help with assessments. I’m frankly surprised it’s not more. But educators around the world are trying to grapple with how to get around the likes of Chat GPT, Claude, and DeepSeek in assessing students’ learning. So far at least, technology which purports to scan students’ submissions for signs of AI is having mixed results at best. Many assessors are advocating for a complete return to in-person exams with hand-written essays. 

And yet in stewing over this, I couldn’t help but wonder if in some ways that misses the point. It’s like long division in the age of the calculator. Sure, it’s a nice-to-know. But be honest. Do you actually use it? How many of us actually need manual long division skills in the modern age? What’s the point in rote-learning historical dates when they are but a Google away? What’s the point in learning where to place a semicolon when you can always spell and grammar check your work? 

When it comes to AI, instead of trying to work around it, I wondered, are we not better just to fully embrace it and try to teach our kids how to maximise the utility of the technology?  

Ultimately, two points have given me reason to pause. First of all, it occurs to me that we’re not very good at foreseeing what skills will and won’t be relevant in the workplace of the future. It was only a few years ago that everyone was urging young people to drop everything and learn how to code. Now, coding jobs are among the first ones being gobbled up generative AI.  

And it’s easy in reflecting in my Teeline shorthand example to miss the even greater lesson. It’s true, Teeline skills haven’t been necessary or helpful in my almost-twenty years of journalism. But what has been helpful is the discipline that experience taught me. What has been helpful is the organisation skills, the accountability, the professionalism. In learning Teeline, I learnt shorthand. But more importantly, I learnt how to learn. 

Whether it’s through long division, historical essays or anything else... surely that is the skill should aspire to educate in our kids.