What if school stops being human?

It was in a modest classroom at KTCT Higher Secondary School in southern India that, in March last year, a teacher named Iris made history: not because she was brilliant — though she was — but because she was made of metal and algorithms. She wore a sari, spoke firmly. She was a robot. But they called her a teacher.

Iris teaches. She speaks three languages. She moves on wheels, answers questions, adjusts content, recognizes attention patterns, and interacts with simple gestures. She has an infinite memory, programmed patience, and a mechanical sparkle in her eyes. However, when we learn about this, it may not be the technological feat that impresses us the most, but rather the warning it contains: we are witnessing the greatest and fastest educational leap in history.

Until a few decades ago, higher education was a privilege. Today, according to UNESCO, more than 250 million students are enrolled in higher education worldwide. By 2040, there will be around 500 million. A multitude of futures looking for someone to guide them.

Teaching has always been more than a technical act; it has been a pact of continuity. The mission is to ensure that knowledge is not lost — that it prepares those who come after. It is this pact that has allowed humanity to evolve.

But who waits for them? Who listens to them, accompanies them and truly challenges them? There is a lack of teachers. And when there is a lack of people, machines advance.

In China, the Pharmaceutical University is already using AI-enabled cameras that can do much more than just record attendance. They monitor expressions, track eye movements, assess attention levels, detect distractions such as mobile phone use or drowsiness — and generate real-time data on student behavior. This system, developed by Megvii Technology Limited, raises a disturbing question: is this the new face of educational authority?

In India, it is Iris who teaches the lesson. And she is not alone. Since 2024, robots and systems have appeared in several countries. In Hong Kong, digital avatars teach postgraduate courses. In Sweden, the Furhat robot teaches with voice and facial expressions. In South Korea, the GPTeens chatbot supports teenagers with school content. In the UAE, the NAO robot teaches science. And in Australia, holograms of teachers are arriving at remote schools. The gap between the human and the automated is narrowing every day.

Some people call them innovation. And perhaps they are. But the question is not whether robots will teach. It is whether, with them, we will still learn what matters. And, above all, who will decide what matters to learn?

Because educating someone has never been just about transferring knowledge. It is a human gesture. Made of hesitations, intuitions, connections. Imperfect, but irreplaceable.

Yes, the world will demand new skills. Yes, millions will have to relearn. But a school without humanity does not educate—it only processes.

Iris is perhaps just the beginning. A reflection. This week, in China, the world’s first hospital operated exclusively by artificial intelligence was announced — doctors, nurses, diagnostics, all automated. If even care can do without the caregiver, what space will be left for schools to continue to be made of presences and connections? It is up to us to decide whether these technologies will be allies — or the mirror of a world that, exhausted from caring, preferred to automate.