On May 11, 2026, Owen Yingling, a 21-year-old philosophy student at the University of Chicago and assistant editor of The New Critic, published an essay warning that widespread AI use on college campuses is transforming elite universities into institutions that no longer demand intellectual rigor from students. Yingling argues that AI tools like ChatGPT are not merely facilitating cheating but fundamentally altering lectures, exams, and student culture, threatening to produce a generation of 'drooling morons.' 1

Yingling highlights a 2025 incident at UCLA, where a student publicly displayed a ChatGPT window during graduation, symbolizing the normalization of AI-assisted academic work. While media coverage framed the incident as a cheating scandal, Yingling argues that the issue runs deeper: AI use is so pervasive that even faculty and administrators under 23 fail to grasp its full impact on university systems. He describes the phenomenon as a 'cancer on our culture,' one that risks destroying universities as sacrosanct humanist projects, moral training grounds, or even job-training sweatshops. 1

The author recounts personal observations from the University of Chicago, where AI’s influence has shifted from a 'benign tumor' to a 'metastatic phase.' Initially, AI-generated work was easily detectable—such as a fraternity’s failed attempt to use AI for an asynchronous midterm, resulting in grades in the 70s. However, Yingling notes a stark change: while TAing a logic class, he and his professor observed a 40-percentage-point gap between take-home tests (likely AI-assisted) and in-person exams, signaling a systemic decline in student performance and engagement. 1

Yingling criticizes the generational disconnect in addressing AI’s role in academia. Older faculty and administrators, he claims, assume AI use is merely an extension of traditional cheating, failing to recognize it as a fundamental shift in how students engage with coursework. He writes, 'They think too well of our generation,' suggesting that universities are not holding students accountable for the intellectual standards they once demanded. This leniency, he argues, is accelerating the erosion of academic integrity. 1

The essay describes the subtle but pervasive ways AI is reshaping classroom dynamics. Yingling recalls a friend pointing out the 'sing-songy cadence' in a professor’s lecture, suspecting it was AI-generated. While he initially dismissed the observation, he now sees it as evidence of AI’s infiltration into even the most basic academic interactions. This shift, he warns, is not just about cheating but about the degradation of human thought and expression in educational spaces. 1

Yingling’s argument extends beyond academic dishonesty to the broader cultural implications of AI dependence. He warns that universities, once seen as bastions of critical thinking and moral development, are at risk of becoming hollowed-out institutions. The 'zombification' he describes refers not only to students’ declining intellectual abilities but also to the loss of universities’ role as incubators of humanist values and rigorous debate. 1

The author reflects on his own academic journey, admitting to feeling 'tired and lazy' as a student. He suggests that AI’s ubiquity has lowered the bar for effort and engagement, making it easier for students to disengage from the learning process. This apathy, he argues, is a direct consequence of universities’ failure to adapt their policies and expectations to the realities of AI, leaving students ill-prepared for the demands of post-graduate life. 1

Yingling’s essay does not propose specific policy solutions but frames the issue as a crisis of institutional will. He implies that universities must either reassert their commitment to rigorous academic standards or risk becoming irrelevant. The 'zombification' he describes is not just about AI but about the broader failure of universities to demand excellence from students in an era of technological convenience. 1

Editorial standards. Reported and edited at Startupniti's news desk from the sources listed in the right rail. Every fact traces to a citation. If something looks wrong, write to corrections.