[Lim Woong] AI digital textbook: promise or peril?

South Korea’s plan to roll out the AI Digital Textbook system in 2025 has sparked some controversy. It is an ambitious project, and there’s nothing quite like it anywhere else in the world. But the boldness of the idea is matched by the intensity of the concerns it raises. The sheer cost, the way it is being implemented as a national policy and whether AI will truly help or hurt education have left people divided and questioning its viability.

The AIDT is not just another digital textbook. Traditional digital textbooks are essentially scanned pages of printed books made for screens. The AIDT goes far beyond that with AI-powered features designed to offer personalized learning. It acts like a digital tutor, tracking students’ progress and tailoring content to their needs. Advanced learners get more challenging materials while struggling students get extra support.

In theory, the AIDT could help close achievement gaps in Korea’s classrooms. Hagwon have long been a crutch for families competing in the country’s high-pressure education system. If public schools could deliver quality instruction through AIDT, the pressure to use costly private tutoring might lessen, giving students from less privileged backgrounds a fair shot. That’s the promise, though not everyone is sold on it.

One major concern is whether spending so much instructional time on digital devices will only disrupt good learning. It’s a valid worry. Research suggests that excessive digital dependence can erode attention spans and rid students of opportunities to process complex ideas and engage in thinking. The fear is that instead of bridging learning gaps, the AIDT might unintentionally widen them. On top of that, AI itself remains a source of anxiety. Generative AI technologies, while impressive, haven’t been around long enough for anyone to fully trust them. Can we really bet an entire education system on AI tools that are far from perfect?

The rollout process hasn’t done much to inspire confidence. Teachers feel left out of the conversation and argue they haven’t been adequately trained. There’s also unease over allegations of cozy ties between officials and ed-tech companies. These factors have made the AIDT a political flashpoint. Activists and teachers’ unions have organized petitions and public campaigns calling for the policy to be delayed (for now) or scrapped altogether. Within schools, teachers are split — some see it as a helpful tool, while others view it as an unwanted imposition threatening their connection to traditional teaching.

At the heart of the debate is a tricky question: Will the AIDT reduce educational inequity and improve student learning? Korea’s education system isn’t exactly built to support the changes the AIDT promises. The country’s obsession with test scores and college entrance exams leaves little room for innovation. Success in this system often comes down to rote memorization, relentless practice and a little luck. Lofty ideals like self-directed learning, creativity and personalized instruction — the hallmarks of AIDT — aren’t what get students into top colleges. Without systemic change, the AIDT risks becoming just another short-lived promise with little real impact.

That’s not to say the technology isn’t impressive. The AIDT comes packed with features like learning path recommendations, automatic feedback and content ideas, all powered by AI. But the reality is that AI shines most when dealing with big data. In a school with thousands of students, the system can identify patterns a human teacher might miss. But in a smaller classroom, a good teacher can often make those same calls just as well. Until we see something truly transformative — like humanoid robots working alongside teachers (not in my lifetime!) — many will dismiss the AIDT as overhyped.

Some critics have gone so far as to dismiss the AIDT as nothing more than the same old question bank. It’s a harsh take, but one that reflects how education is often viewed in this country. If the AIDT is seen only as a tool for exam prep, its more innovative aspects will likely go unnoticed.

So, where does that leave us? The AIDT has the potential to free up time for more interactions between students and teachers. But if it becomes just another cog in the exam machine, drilling students endlessly, the policy could fail spectacularly. At worst, the AIDT might become a cash cow for ed-tech companies while leaving students and teachers more burned out than ever.

The AIDT presents a significant opportunity but also a stark reminder that technology alone won’t fix what’s broken in education. For it to succeed, there needs to be a broader policy and paradigm shift — one that prioritizes civic education, builds a passion for learning, develops life skills and fosters a sense of purpose and belonging. Until then, whether the AIDT becomes a stepping stone or a stumbling block will always depend less on the AI technology itself and more on the people and policies shaping Korea’s education system.

Lim Woong

Lim Woong is a professor of the Graduate School of Education at Yonsei University in Seoul. The views expressed here are the writer’s own. — Ed.