Don't Let AI "Hijack" Children's Growth: How Should Parents Protect the Spark of Thinking Amid Two Sessions Hotly Discussed?

“Children crying over blank sheets, saying ‘No internet, I can’t think.’” A Haidian mom’s lament in the parent group tightened the hearts of many parents. This is not an exaggerated joke but a real dilemma faced by many families today. At this year’s two sessions, some representatives proposed: don’t let teenagers rely on AI too early or excessively. This seemingly “lazy” behavior is actually a form of “amputation” of the brain.

Neighbor’s eighth-grader, Xiao Yu, is a typical “AI native.” In the past, he would spend two hours biting his pen and pondering over essays. Now, he just types into a chat box: “Help me write an 800-word essay about motherly love, including parallel sentences,” and within three seconds, a model essay appears. On the surface, this saves parents’ time and makes it easy for children to complete homework. However, a teacher’s comment at the parent meeting was a wake-up call: “The essay is full of ornate language but all empty words, lacking soul.” Even more worrying is that this “cognitive outsourcing” is like a drug. Once addicted, children’s first reaction to difficult problems is no longer independent thinking but seeking AI help. Just like someone who relies on a wheelchair for a long time, their leg muscles will gradually atrophy. If children’s brains no longer go through the process of “getting stuck—struggling—breaking through,” the “thinking muscles” responsible for logic and depth will also completely shrink.

AI always provides standard answers, but real life requires the courage to “try and fail.” A friend, a creative director, once revealed that he fears encountering “perfect children” during recruitment—those who rely on AI for everything since childhood. Their resumes look impressive, but when faced with open-ended questions, they are at a loss. Because they are used to passively accepting “feeding,” they have long lost the ability to actively “hunt.” Even more frightening is the emotional impact. Today’s AI companions can provide perfect emotional value; when children are unhappy, chatting with AI can soothe them. Over time, will they still be willing to face the complex, rough, and sometimes painful human relationships in reality?

In the face of AI’s popularity, we must neither “spit out the baby with the bathwater” nor let it run wild. The key is to establish “boundaries.” Several education experts have offered three practical suggestions for ordinary families: set up “no-AI zones,” such as writing diaries, doing crafts, or daydreaming—these must be done manually, and if AI is used, children should face consequences like doing chores; treat AI as a “practice partner” rather than a “substitute,” encouraging children to generate ideas with AI and then rebut, revise, and supplement on their own, clearly telling them: “AI is your co-pilot, but you must control the steering wheel”; actively develop “skills AI can’t do,” such as empathy, leadership, aesthetic judgment, and storytelling—these are beyond algorithms and are the “moat” for children’s future foothold in society.

Looking at these suggestions, I suddenly realized: the goal of education is not to cultivate “human hard drives,” but to ignite the “torch of the soul.” AI can calculate the optimal solution but cannot feel the passion and impulsiveness of youth; AI can write perfect poetry but cannot capture the heartbeat of that moment. If parents find that their children are beginning to “depend on” AI, it might be time to play the “villain” and decisively unplug the internet. Brains can rust and be polished, but once the spark of thinking goes out, it’s truly difficult to reignite. Does your child also start using AI for homework? Share your experience in the comments, and let’s find ways to cope together.