Design School Has an AI Problem, and It’s Not Technology
I’m not a teacher by trade. I’m not employed by a college or university as an instructor. But I’ve taught graphic design to hundreds of interns and helped countless new grads land their first jobs. I’ve reviewed portfolios, mentored through programs in Chicago and New York, and worked closely with young designers trying to find their footing.
So, hearing the usual concerns about chatbot cheating doesn’t surprise me. What did catch my attention in a recent New York Times article on OpenAI’s push into higher education wasn’t the usual concerns about chatbot cheating or academic decline. The integration of tools like ChatGPT into campus life is inevitable. In fact, it’s in the rearview mirror. To accelerate adoption, OpenAI is selling premium AI services to universities and running campaigns aimed at getting more students to try ChatGPT.
“The goal isn’t to resist AI. It’s to teach design students how to harness it with purpose.”
Worrying about AI in the design classroom is a little like worrying that PageMaker would replace the drawing board (dating myself, here). The tools will keep changing. Our responsibility is to help students use them wisely and think beyond the tools in front of them.
This isn’t a critique of teachers, especially in and around my hometown of Chicago. I know many phenomenal educators, deeply committed to the care, rigor, and thoughtfulness that teaching design requires. My intention isn’t to point out what’s wrong. It’s to offer a perspective from the hiring side—a point of view informed by years of interviewing early-career talent and seeing, time and again, where the gaps still exist.
While I haven’t stood in front of a classroom week after week, I’ve witnessed the moment students step out of it—into internships, job interviews, and first assignments. And I’ve seen just how prepared or unprepared they can be when they enter the field. There’s a quiet understanding in the design profession that college teaches you just enough to prove you can learn more. Everything else—work ethic, curiosity, background, fit—is what fills in the gaps of a flourishing design career.
“Maybe we’re heading toward a world where designers are more like master editors.”
This is also personal. I didn’t know what design was when I started undergrad, and that understanding hadn’t deepened much by graduation. I was lucky to land my first job with a boss, Arnie, who taught me everything I should have learned in design school. If I’d had ChatGPT or Midjourney back then, it’s a pretty safe bet it would not have made me a better designer. I didn’t understand the complexity of how words and pictures work together. I didn’t grasp the fundamentals of visual storytelling—especially what made great copy. And based on my mentoring experiences over recent decades, little has changed.
Arnie used to say, “You’re only as good as your tools.” I’ve always believed that. I embrace technology, and I believe it’s essential to continue to reinvent yourself throughout your design career. I use ChatGPT as an ideation partner and regularly experiment with the growing number of AI generators. But these tools only become valuable when you already understand what good work looks, sounds, and feels like.
A large part of being a designer is learning how to navigate compromise while staying rooted in strategic intent. The ability to pivot and evolve ideas without losing creative integrity is a high-value skill, and it often starts with critique, still a cornerstone of most design programs. But the critique process has to evolve. AI can now revise faster than we can reflect. The risk isn’t just speed—it’s a growing disconnection from the idea, the strategy behind it, and even authorship itself. Maybe we’re heading toward a world where designers are more like master editors, but for now, the ability to generate, refine, and strategically connect to a concept is something designers should own and where design education needs to dig in.
“The real opportunity isn’t resisting AI. It’s rethinking how we teach design alongside the rapid, almost surreal, pace of technological change.”
Which brings me back to the New York Times article. The real question isn’t whether students should or should not use AI. The question is how we evolve teaching designers so they continue to evolve the craft alongside insane advances in technology.
AI Can’t Replace Thinking, but It Can Make the Lack of It Harder to Spot
It’s one thing to ask ChatGPT to quiz you on the muscles of the leg. It’s another to have it write a policy analysis or interpret a historical trend. When a tool can produce something plausible in seconds, the danger isn’t the output. It’s that students might accept it without engaging with the process.
Thinking critically isn’t about landing on the right answer. It’s about knowing why it’s right. It’s about framing problems, challenging assumptions, and interrogating sources. And that’s not something a chatbot can do (unless you write it in a prompt, which most students wouldn’t think to do). The craft of thinking must be built with guidance, scaffolding, and practice.
What Needs to Change
So, how do we help students think critically in an environment that rewards speed and ease? A few starting points, and keep in mind I’m not talking about graduate-level learning:
Focus on framing, not just finding answers. When AI offers ten reasonable responses, the skill becomes choosing the best one, not accepting the first. Assignments should reward the process, not just the outcome.
Make comparisons a habit. Have students evaluate AI-generated content alongside peer-reviewed sources or their own ideas. This isn’t punitive. It’s about developing discernment.
Teach the limits, not just the capabilities. Students need to know what AI gets wrong—things like nuance, cultural context, or logic.
Practice slow thinking. In a culture that rewards speed and constant output, taking time to go deeper is a radical act. Build in space for synthesis, reflection, and iteration.
Teach writing. As a designer, I see writing as the yin to design’s yang. Good writing gives design something to work with. Teach students voice and tone, and how to cultivate both. Teach grammar and punctuation as tools of precision, not just rules.
Teach story construction, the way it’s taught to writers. Knowing how to shape and structure ideas into a compelling narrative isn’t just a writer’s skill. It’s central to how we design and communicate.
Utilize the Case Method. Originally popularized by Harvard Business School, this approach teaches students to analyze real-world scenarios and make decisions by discussing them in class. It helps them practice articulating a point of view, questioning assumptions, and defending their reasoning.
Likely, these ideas are already on the radar or taking shape in some classrooms. But with the pace of change, there’s a real need to move from exploration and consensus-building to application.
Coexistence, Not Compliance
AI isn’t going away, nor should it. For many students, especially ESL or neurodiverse learners, tools like ChatGPT can be a welcome bridge. These tools can demystify learning, offer support, and build confidence. The goal isn’t to restrict their use but to help students understand their responsibility in producing creative work and how to use AI to support that responsibility.
“The tools will keep changing. Our responsibility is to help students think beyond the tools in front of them.”
We’re already seeing AI-generated creative work hit the market at breakneck speed. A recent promo video for the NBA Finals was produced using Veo 3 in just two days for $2,000. That’s not a reason to panic. It’s a reason to get sharper about how and what we teach. Because if speed becomes the default, the value of originality, concept, and clarity becomes even more critical.
Graphic design is, first and foremost, a practice. It matures over time, shaped by lived experience and a commitment to understanding how we, in the world, communicate with each other. This is where design school has a real opportunity to foster a culture of inquiry. School should be a place where students learn to ask better questions and where the value of an education isn’t measured by how fast you get the answer or how slick it looks, but by how deeply you understand the world behind it.
Let’s teach students to challenge creativity in ways that last, long after they log off.
Smarter tools don’t make smarter brands. If your organization is figuring out how to stay clear and purposeful as AI reshapes communication, CACCICO can help.