TL;DW: A leadership column exploring how AI reshapes communication, and why judgment, intention, and original thought remain central to learning.
Recently, I came across a comic that captured a pattern I’ve been noticing more and more as artificial intelligence has become part of everyday life. In the first panel, someone sits at their computer, clearly overwhelmed. “All I have is four points to share,” the caption reads. “How do I present this as a report?” In the next panel, relief: “I’ll just use ChatGPT to prepare this into an elaborate report.” The third panel shifts perspective. A colleague stares at their screen, equally overwhelmed. “I can’t believe he shared an entire report. I don’t have time to read through this.” And finally, relief again: “Never mind. I’ll use AI to summarize this into four brief points.”
The comic captures a loop many of us are living inside of right now. As the use of artificial intelligence becomes increasingly common, ideas can expand into polished writing almost instantly, and just as quickly be compressed back into a handful of takeaways. There is more content everywhere, and less time to sit with any one piece of it.
We’ve long lived in the world of TL;DR (Too Long; Didn’t Read), internet shorthand for “I understand the gist, but I don’t have time to read all of this.” Long before the phrase itself existed, the idea behind it did. Research papers open with abstracts. Students are encouraged to use study guides and summaries. Readers have relied on resources like SparkNotes for decades. Today, many casual writers include a TL;DR at the top of their work, offering readers permission to focus on the main idea rather than every word that follows.
These practices aren’t necessarily intended to avoid thinking. They are about managing attention. They help us decide where to linger and where to move on.
What feels new in this moment is that we can now move in the opposite direction just as easily. Instead of starting with a fully developed idea and condensing it, we can begin with a few rough thoughts and instantly expand them into something polished and complete. TL;DW, Too Long; Didn’t Write, has quietly entered our vocabulary, describing a world where the act of writing itself can be outsourced.
This shift invites an important question for education. If writing, summarizing, and polishing can happen in seconds, where does understanding live?
The answer has less to do with output and more to do with intention. The most meaningful learning has always lived in the decisions behind the work: knowing what you are trying to say and who you are saying it to; choosing a tone; deciding what belongs and what does not; shaping ideas with care and purpose.
As early as the 17th century, writers knew this to be true. In his 1657 Lettres Provinciales Blaine Pascal writes, “I have made this letter longer than usual because I didn’t have time to make it shorter.” Clarity takes time. Brevity is not inherently a shortcut. Writing something concise and meaningful requires deep understanding and thoughtful judgment.
This is where artificial intelligence begins to push up against its limits. These tools can help us brainstorm, organize, and explore new ways of expressing ideas, but they cannot decide what matters most. They cannot determine what is appropriate for a particular audience or moment. That responsibility and nuance remain human.
When AI first entered the conversation, a common refrain was, “You won’t be replaced by AI. You’ll be replaced by someone who knows how to use AI.” There is truth in that, but it only goes so far. What matters more is depth. You won’t be replaced by AI, but by someone who understands their field well enough to take these tools further than you can. Technology may amplify expertise, but it cannot replace it.
At Belmont Day, we are approaching this moment with curiosity and care. We are exploring what new tools make possible while staying grounded in what learning has always required: creativity, flexible thinking, the ability to synthesize ideas, and the willingness to wrestle with complexity and make thoughtful choices.
As we play and explore in this new landscape, we are paying close attention to what truly matters in learning. Tools will continue to evolve, and new shortcuts will inevitably appear. Our responsibility is not to avoid them, but to remain intentional about how we use them and what we value.
That means resisting something else entirely: TL;DT. Too Long; Didn’t Think.
No matter how powerful our tools become, that is one shortcut we never want to take.