HomeBlogCEL Scholar Blue Books and In-Class Writing Are Not a Panacea by Amanda Sturgill August 19, 2025 Share: Section NavigationSkip section navigationIn this sectionBlog Home AI and Engaged Learning Assessment of Learning Capstone Experiences CEL News CEL Retrospectives CEL Reviews Collaborative Projects and Assignments Community-Based Learning Data Literacy Diversity, Inclusion, and Equity ePortfolio Feedback First-Year Experiences Global Learning Health Sciences High Impact Practices Immersive Learning Internships Learning Communities Mentoring Relationships Online Education Place-Based Learning Professional and Continuing Education Publishing SoTL Reflection and Metacognition Relationships Residential Learning Communities Service-Learning Signature Work Student Leadership Student-Faculty Partnership Studying EL Supporting Neurodivergent and Physically Disabled Students Undergraduate Research Work-Integrated Learning Writing Transfer in and beyond the University Style Guide for Posts to the Center for Engaged Learning Blog In comments sections and replies in both educator spaces and mass media articles, it’s common to see exhortations to simply return to an earlier time where students demonstrated knowledge in class. I myself recall needing to remember to stop by the bookstore the day before an exam, because I would be writing open-ended responses in a blue book at exam time. But while producing all writing during class sessions is a seemingly a convenient solution to swerving AI use, often smarmily presented, it may be less useful in writing across the curriculum. Here’s why. I do remember writing a lot as an undergraduate student. Personal computers existed, but they were not small and inexpensive enough for students to have in their bookbags. There were a few computer lab classrooms, open during business hours. It wasn’t enough for everyone, so I spent long hours at my desk handwriting chemistry lab reports and typing up essays for English and anthropology on my trusty Smith-Corona®. Even then, it’s not accurate to say everyone just did all the writing in the classroom. In the first-year writing course I took, we spent in-class time together analyzing and deconstructing writing—both our peers’ writing and more polished examples. It was learn and do, but the “do” part was outside of class. The “learn” part, or course content, is essential to most college and university classes, and pushing it aside in favor of forcing students to write without AI means making tough and sometimes unfortunate choices. A flipped classroom could help, provided learners are motivated enough and capable of learning the material outside of class and that they consider working alone at writing by hand a useful in-class activity. That’s a question. I also remember shaking out my cramping fingers during blue book exams. Today, not all K-12 programs emphasize efficient handwriting, so just the physical production of writing could be a problem both for time and legibility. Since the education disruptions of COVID-19, many students adapted to completely depending on computers to produce written work. Switching that at the university may have poor results that are not related to the students’ ability to understand, think deeply about and use course content. Even the College Board no longer requires producing writing as a part of the SAT. An additional concern is a public-private divide in handwriting instruction, meaning requiring in-class writing by hand may privilege learners who had access to a private school education. I did find an interesting argument in the comments around a recent New Yorker essay on AI and college writing.* Although higher education’s purpose is more than job training, students’ lives after they leave university does motivate much of what their teachers do. Employers in a variety of fields from government, to IT, to creative work and more seem at least AI-curious if not actually expecting workers to intelligently integrate AI into their work processes already. While writing by hand could benefit educators who need to assess student understanding and thinking capability in their discipline, it may be a disservice in terms of those students’ careers. I remember attending an on-campus student think tank simulation in the early fall of 2023 and having an angry student wondering why his costly education was not already preparing him for a new reality with this new tool. This matters. As educators, we need to be re-examining the borders between “learn” and “do” and how we might scaffold both in the age of generative AI. *The New Yorker article will be paywalled for some, so I include this free-to-access article that both summarizes and links to it. About the Author Amanda Sturgill, associate professor of journalism, is a 2024-2026 CEL Scholar. Her work focuses on the intersection of artificial intelligence (AI) and engaged learning in higher education. Dr. Sturgill also previously contributed posts on global learning as a seminar leader for the 2015-2017 research seminar on Integrating Global Learning with the University Experience. How to Cite this Post Sturgill, Amanda. 2025. “Blue Books and In-Class Writing Are Not a Panacea.” Center for Engaged Learning (blog). August 19, 2025. https://www.centerforengagedlearning.org/blue-books-and-in-class-writing-are-not-a-panacea/.