Christ, my head is pounding. Three fingers of Wild Turkey isn’t exactly helping me make sense of this latest piece of consulting gospel about how AI is going to save education. But here we are, another Monday morning, and my inbox is stuffed with press releases about how the robots are coming to teach our kids.
Let me break this down while I pour myself another drink.
Some consultant named Porter apparently figured out there are five forces that shape competition. Revolutionary stuff, right? About as revolutionary as discovering that whiskey gives you hangovers. Now they’re trying to apply this framework to education, because God forbid we let teachers just teach without some MBA’s theoretical framework cramping their style.
Here’s what they’re not telling you: This whole “AI in education” thing isn’t about making kids smarter - it’s about making investors richer. Trust me, I’ve sat through enough pitch meetings (mostly for the free cocktails) to know the drill.
Let’s dissect these “five forces” while my aspirin kicks in:
“Competitive Rivalry” - or as I call it, “My AI Is Bigger Than Your AI” They’re talking about global competition now. Apparently, your kid’s school isn’t just competing with the one across town anymore - it’s competing with some virtual academy in Singapore. Because that’s exactly what little Tommy needs: more screen time and less human interaction.
“Supplier Power” - aka “Who’s Really Running This Show?” Remember when the most expensive thing schools had to buy was textbooks? Now they’re getting bent over a barrel by tech vendors selling AI systems that’ll be obsolete faster than my last relationship. And switching costs? Let’s just say it’s easier to quit drinking than to switch learning management systems.
“Buyer Power” - or “Parents Gone Wild” Every helicopter parent with a LinkedIn account now thinks they’re an education expert. They want AI-powered everything, personalized learning paths, and probably a robot butler to carry their kid’s iPad. The funny thing is, most of them can barely help with homework themselves.
“Threat of Substitutes” - Welcome to “Education Netflix” You can now learn quantum physics from an app while sitting on the toilet. What a time to be alive. These alternatives are popping up faster than my bar tabs, and some of them actually work. But here’s the thing - they’re treating education like content streaming, and last time I checked, kids aren’t binge-watching math problems.
“Barriers to Entry” - or lack thereof Anyone with a laptop and an AI subscription can now start a “school.” Hell, I could probably start one right now, but I’m too busy trying to figure out why my coffee maker isn’t working. The barrier isn’t technical anymore - it’s having the common sense to know what kids actually need.
The real kicker in all this? While everyone’s obsessing over Porter’s framework and AI capabilities, they’re missing the obvious: Kids need human connection, teachers who give a damn, and the space to make mistakes without an algorithm judging them.
Look, I’m not saying AI in education is all bad. It’s like bourbon - great in moderation, dangerous if you make it your whole diet. But treating schools like they’re tech startups that need to “disrupt or die” is about as smart as trying to cure a hangover with more whiskey. (Though I’ll admit, I’m still testing that theory).
The truth is, education needs both the high-tech and the human touch. It needs teachers who can look a kid in the eye and know something’s wrong, even when the AI says everything’s fine. It needs playground time that isn’t optimized by algorithms, and it needs those magical moments when a student finally gets it - not because an AI adapted to their learning style, but because someone took the time to explain it fifteen different ways.
But what do I know? I’m just a tech blogger who’s seen enough “revolutionary” solutions come and go to fill every bottle in my liquor cabinet. And speaking of which…
Posted from O’Malley’s Bar & Grill, where the only AI is the automatic paper towel dispenser that never works when your hands are wet
– Henry Chinaski Editor, Wasted Wetware (Currently accepting donations in the form of single malt scotch)
P.S. If any ed-tech startups are reading this, yes, I’ll attend your demo day. Open bar only, though. I’ve suffered through enough PowerPoints to deserve at least that much.