Chungin “Roy” Lee was expelled from Columbia University for creating an AI tool that let students cheat—on homework and even during internship interviews. He used it himself in an Amazon interview, got the offer, turned it down, and was ultimately disciplined for distributing the tool. Today, he runs a multimillion-dollar startup.
And somehow, we’re still stuck debating the “cheating.”
But what if this moment isn’t a scandal—but a signal? A glimpse of a generation whose instincts are tuned to the future, not the rules of the past?
Because like it or not, the world is moving. Fast.
Duolingo and Shopify are calling themselves “AI-first.” Microsoft is laying off thousands while doubling down on automation. According to the World Economic Forum, nearly 40% of job skills will shift by 2030. Over 170 million new jobs will be created—but 92 million will vanish. AI isn’t just changing how we work. It’s redefining what work is.
Yet most classrooms still look like it’s 1995.
Columbia said Lee broke the rules—and by their standards, he did. But zoom out. He identified a need, built a tool, and scaled it. That’s the kind of thinking employers claim they want.
He didn’t just cheat a system. He challenged it. And in doing so, he exposed a truth we keep trying to ignore: students are no longer waiting for institutions to catch up.
So instead of shaming this moment, maybe we should be studying it. What made him act? What systems failed to harness his creativity in a way that felt legitimate? Why are our brightest minds building tools that bypass school instead of transform it?
We keep preparing students for jobs that AI is already replacing. We punish them for using tools the business world rewards. We ask them to memorize facts while ignoring the fact that AI can summarize, translate, solve, and code—instantly. If we’re still assessing brilliance through five-paragraph essays and multiple choice tests, we’re not educating. We’re gatekeeping.
Here’s a better vision:
What if we asked students to solve real-world problems using the same AI tools they’re using in secret? What if we gave them permission to start earning now—as builders, consultants, or coders—not later, once they’ve passed someone else’s test?
Lee made a bet: that building something useful matters more than following outdated rules.
And here’s the part no one wants to say out loud:
There are thousands of students—especially those from marginalized communities—who would trade Ivy League prestige for generational wealth in a heartbeat.
Especially if they feel like they were never meant to belong in the system anyway.
We say we want equity. Then we punish ambition that doesn’t ask permission.
The real crisis isn’t cheating. It’s the fact that we’ve built schools that reward compliance over creativity. That we’re afraid of AI in the classroom because we haven’t figured out how to assess genius when it doesn’t fit in a Scantron.
Meanwhile, AI literacy is becoming the new digital divide According to OpenAI, 75% of college-aged students want to use AI in school and in their careers—but only 25% of institutions are preparing them. Impact Research shows that half of K–12 students are already using AI at least weekly. But most schools still have no policy. No guidance. No plan.
Students are already using AI. The question is: will they keep using it in secret—or will we create learning environments that put these tools in their hands with purpose, permission, and power?
Will we lead with fear, or with vision?
Will we prepare them for the future, or punish them for figuring it out before we did?
To be clear, I’m not saying we should celebrate unethical behavior. But we should confront an educational model that treats innovation as disruption and curiosity as misconduct.
Because if school is supposed to prepare students for life—and life is now AI-infused at every level—then everything must evolve: classrooms, policies, and the very definition of success.
Lee isn’t the enemy.
He’s the alarm.
And class is already in session.
Winston W. Roberts is the AI Innovation Lead at Foundation Academy in Trenton, NJ, founder of Teacher in a Suit, and a University of Pennsylvania alumnus. He writes at the intersection of AI, education, and equity.
