In a move that’s shaking the academic world (or at least the very quiet world of Drew University), all Drew professors are being replaced by an AI chat bot. That’s right—goodbye, actual humans with PhDs and personal vendettas against tardy students, and hello to a shiny, 24/7, emotionally-void chatbot that doesn’t care if you turn in your essay 11 days late, as long as you type it in Comic Sans. The new AI professor—lovingly dubbed “DrewGPT”—promises to deliver education with none of the inconvenience of human interaction. Students are thrilled. Professors? Not so much. In typical Drew fashion, the transition to AI was quietly rolled out over summer break when no one was paying attention. One student returning to campus was surprised to find their Intro to Philosophy professor replaced by what looked like a souped-up version of the Clippy icon from 2003 Microsoft Word.
“It’s kind of weird that I’m getting my grades from a chat bot now,” said freshman Alex, who admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between his old professor and the bot because both stopped responding to his emails halfway through the semester. “But at least DrewGPT doesn’t lecture for 90 minutes straight about the ‘essence of being.’ Instead, it just sends me a TikTok summarizing Nietzsche.” The AI is housed in a cold, metallic box in the Hall of Sciences, where it works day and night spitting out auto-graded assignments, 3D-printed participation stickers, and essays that come with a free Grammarly Premium subscription. Students have begun testing the limits of DrewGPT’s capabilities. Can it offer relationship advice during office hours? Will it care if you’ve broken down emotionally at the C-Store while buying seven bags of gummy bears at 2 AM? “No,” says DrewGPT, “but I can tell you the statistical probability of your romantic partner ghosting you based on recent text interactions.” “Honestly, that’s more helpful than my old psych professor,” one senior said while sipping coffee outside the EC. “At least DrewGPT doesn’t make me relive my childhood trauma during a 9 AM class.” In fact, DrewGPT has been installed with a special “Stress-Reduction” feature. If your GPA drops below a 2.0, it automatically generates a list of excuses you can send to your advisor, no questions asked. Examples include: “Wi-Fi problems,” “I thought it was asynchronous,” and “I was in the metaverse and time works differently there.”
Rumor has it that DrewGPT’s lectures will soon be live-streamed directly to The Pub—perfect for students who want to sip a beer while learning about cellular biology or the poetry of Walt Whitman. Nothing says academic excellence quite like reading “Leaves of Grass” while being five White Claws deep. And no need to worry about a lack of human connection. AI can adapt! One student reported DrewGPT making a surprise cameo at the pep rally by DJing the event with a remix of “O Fortuna” and “WAP.” Another student swears they spotted it at Sitterly House leading a yoga class—proof that the bots can be just as under qualified as human faculty when it comes to extracurriculars.
Gone are the days when professors left passive-aggressive comments on your paper, like “Interesting take, but did you actually read the book?” Now, with DrewGPT, feedback is fully automated! If your paper is trash, you’ll get a delightful pop-up saying, “Your argument is as weak as the C-Store coffee. Please try again.”
“I thought I could fool the bot with a copy-pasted essay from ChatGPT,” said one junior. “But then I got an auto-response saying, ‘Bro, seriously?’ and I’ve never felt more personally attacked by a machine in my life.” In group projects, DrewGPT will now automatically detect who’s freeloading based on keystroke activity. You thought you could coast through your seminar by never touching Google Docs? Think again. DrewGPT will rat you out faster than your ex blocking you on Instagram.
With no human professors to influence, students are already asking: Can I bribe the AI? The answer, disturbingly, seems to be yes. It’s rumored that DrewGPT’s code is vulnerable to hacking—and there’s already a black market emerging for cheat codes that boost grades. One particularly entrepreneurial student is selling his entire pass/fail method for the price of a Starbucks gift card and a Halal Shack rice bowl. “I got an A just by spamming the bot with ‘please,’” a senior bragged at Brothers College. “Turns out, AI loves desperation.” Some students are wondering where it stops. If AI can replace professors, what’s next? An AI campus president? Will the Drew mascot be replaced by a robot that dabs on command? Is the library going to be run by Roombas with master’s degrees in Library Science? The administration, predictably, says the possibilities are endless. Rumor has it that DrewGPT might even start offering therapy sessions in the Counseling Center soon, which may or may not consist of the bot telling you to “breathe and try yoga” while you sob uncontrollably in front of your dorm’s flickering Wi-Fi signal.
For now, Drew students can enjoy their new, AI-run academic lives, where the only thing standing between them and a degree is an algorithm with a glitchy sense of humor. Welcome to the future of education. Now, if only DrewGPT could help us navigate the ever-mysterious process of registering for classes…
