But if you’ve had that feeling—I’m late, I’m behind, I should’ve figured this out already—take a breath. You’re not late.

Honestly, the last two years have been a mess of false starts. Huge companies spent staggering amounts of money building their own LLMs that they quietly buried months later. Others poured money training models that became outdated almost immediately. Everyone has been sprinting toward a finish line that keeps moving.

If you’ve stayed focused on your pedagogy instead of the leaderboard, you’re not behind. You’re right on schedule.

The point of using AI in schools is not to pick the winning model. The “best” model has been changing every quarter. The work of teaching doesn’t.

And that’s the part worth remembering: AI is a tool. It’s not the outcome. It’s not the standard. It doesn’t replace the thinking. Whether you open ChatGPT or Gemini or Claude—or whatever shows up next month—the questions that matter stay the same:

Are students thinking?
Are they writing?
Are they wrestling with ideas instead of copying them?
Are teachers able to see the process, not just the final paragraph on the page?

If yes, then you’re already doing the part that lasts.

And if you want to keep AI in perspective without getting sucked into the hype cycle, follow the people who talk about AI the way teachers actually use it—people like Amanda Bickerstaff and Monica Burns, Dan Fitzpatrick, Matt Miller, Eric Curts, and organizations like Quill. They’re steady, they’re practical, and they remind us that writing structure, feedback, and clear thinking still matter more than any model release.

With Thanksgiving on the horizon, this is a friendly reminder from your pals at Pressto and The Science of Writing that you’re stepping into the AI moment at exactly the right time—when things are finally stable enough to make good decisions that won’t disappear with the next announcement.

AI will keep changing. Good teaching won’t.

❤️ - Danny

Phonics is back, decoding is in vogue, and “evidence-based” instruction is the new north star.

Yet amid all the enthusiasm for systematic phonics and word study, one essential half of literacy has quietly fallen out of frame: writing.

A comprehensive review of 19 of the most widely used Science of Reading or structured literacy programs shows that while nearly all offer polished digital ecosystems—phonics games, dashboards, and adaptive reading assessments—none include a full digital writing environment where students can actually write.

“We’re teaching half of literacy,” one reading coach told us. “Kids can click through phonics lessons all day long, but they can’t compose a single paragraph in those same systems.”

This imbalance has profound implications. Writing isn’t an optional enrichment to reading—it’s its mirror and counterpart. Research and the International Dyslexia Association’s own definition of “Structured Literacy” describe reading and writing as integrated processes that reinforce each other. Yet in practice, the digital infrastructure built to support structured literacy treats writing as an afterthought—or someone else’s problem.

The Digital Blind Spot

We reviewed 19 major programs. For each, we asked a simple question:

Does it include a student-facing digital writing space where kids can compose, draft, and revise?

The pattern is impossible to miss. Most structured literacy programs digitized everything except the part where students actually write.

The edtech infrastructure built to serve the “science of reading” has prioritized subskills that can be measured—phonemic awareness, fluency, data dashboards—and neglected skills that must be expressed.

Why the Omission Matters

Writing isn’t just an endpoint of reading instruction—it’s one of its engines.

Research consistently shows that writing about what one reads deepens comprehension, vocabulary, and retention. But most digital literacy programs separate the two entirely, training students to recognize words without using them.

Part of the reason is structural. Reading is tested. Writing is not. Ed-tech companies have followed the money, investing heavily in adaptive reading assessments and gamified phonics activities—where growth data is easy to quantify—while leaving writing instruction to teacher improvisation.

“When you feel especially pressured to improve reading achievement,” writes literacy researcher Timothy Shanahan, “that is the time to embrace more tightly the combination of reading and writing.”

In many classrooms, a student’s first digital literacy experience is an adaptive test. Their last is a multiple-choice quiz. The messy, generative act of composing never happens inside the system itself.

Until digital literacy programs make room for students to actually write, we’ll keep producing better decoders—just not better writers. And my fear is that we’re training a generation of kids to be passive consumers and scrollers of content; not creators.

Sources

• International Dyslexia Association – Structured Literacy definition

• Wilson Language Training – Fundations Fun Hub

• Lexia Learning – Core5 Reading program materials

• Amplify – CKLA digital platform

• Collaborative Classroom – Being a Writer 3rd Edition press release

• Education Week – “How Does Writing Fit Into the Science of Reading?”

• “Coach from the Couch” Literacy Blog – Timothy Shanahan on Reading/Writing Integration

• The Writing Revolution – Hochman Method overview and MyTWR Tools

• Heinemann – Units of Study for Writing (2023–24 Flight platform)

• Empowering Writers – Program overview and The Hub

• Voyager Sopris – Step Up to Writing 5th Edition

• Education Northwest – 6+1 Traits of Writing framework

• Writers Who Care blog – “Why Writing Needs Equal Status with Reading”

Today, writing teachers face a similar moment with generative AI. Tools like ChatGPT can churn out essays in seconds. The fear is familiar: if AI can write, why would students bother? But history offers hope. Just as calculators pushed math teachers to focus on reasoning, AI is forcing writing teachers to emphasize process over product. It’s time to ask students to “show your work” in writing — to make their thinking visible.

Calculators Didn’t End Math — They Changed It

When calculators hit classrooms in the 1970s, teachers feared kids would lose basic skills. Instead, they started grading the steps as well as the answers. Even the fanciest TI-82 couldn’t explain its reasoning, so students had to.

This shift made math education stronger, not weaker. Freed from repetitive calculation, students could tackle more complex problems — but only if they could explain how they got there. The result was a deeper focus on logic, communication, and problem-solving.

Calculators didn’t harm math aptitude because teachers kept ownership of the reasoning. The calculator did the grunt work; the student still had to think.

Writing’s “Calculator Moment”

AI is a much bigger leap than the calculator ever was. It doesn’t just compute — it can brainstorm, outline, and draft. That’s why it feels like such a threat to writing instruction. But again, the solution isn’t panic or prohibition; it’s redesign.

If the final essay can be AI-written, then the final essay can’t be the only evidence of learning. The focus must shift to how the essay was made — outlines, drafts, revisions, reflections. The writing process itself is what shows whether a student is doing the thinking.

Make the Thinking Visible

“Show your work” in writing means grading process, not just polish. It’s been a best practice for decades — now it’s a necessity.

Teachers are already adapting:

• Carly Ghantous requires brainstorming notes, outlines, and drafts. Each phase earns credit, so the student’s growth is visible.

• Steven Krause uses Google Docs version history to watch essays evolve and verify authenticity.

• David Cutler has students write in class or on secure digital platforms so he can see their thinking unfold in real time.

• Tools like Pressto allow teachers to assign writing plans where students can build their work block by block - it’s like Legos for writing.

Each approach makes it harder to fake a paper — and easier to teach genuine writing skills.

Better Tools for Better Thinking

Ironically, the best defense against AI misuse might be smarter tech. Tools like Pressto are built for this new reality. Its Writing Blocks™ system breaks writing into visible chunks — helping students plan, build, and reflect on their work step by step. Its Real-Time View lets teachers see progress as it happens, offering feedback or encouragement when it matters most.

Instead of policing students, teachers can coach them. Instead of hiding the process, students can proudly show it.

The New Literacy: Thinking in Public

AI isn’t the end of writing — it’s the beginning of a new kind of literacy. When polished text is cheap, authentic thinking becomes priceless.

Math teachers learned long ago that if the answer is easy, the reasoning must matter more. Writing teachers can do the same. Ask students to show their work — and watch their writing (and thinking) grow stronger than ever.

Sources

Cutler, D. Teachers are redesigning writing instruction to outsmart AI. PBS NewsHour.

Ko, A. J. (2023, March 21). What calculators taught us about AI in education.

Krause, S. D. (2023). Teaching writing as a process in the age of AI.

Ghantous, C., & Sell, J. How teachers are adapting to AI in writing classrooms. Education Week.

Shields, C. How to create AI-resistant writing prompts. National Education Association.

This presentation lays out how writing instruction can evolve:

• From product to process

• From grading essays to coaching thinking

• From “Did you write this?” to “How are you thinking about this?”

AI won’t end writing. But it will expose how little we’ve valued the thinking behind it.
“Show Your Work” is the path forward.

Sources

• Stephen Marche, “The College Essay Is Dead. Nobody Is Prepared for How AI Will Transform Academia.” The Atlantic, December 6 2022.

• Daniel Herman, “The End of High-School English.” The Atlantic, December 9 2022.

• Janesville Gazette (Wisconsin), February 18 1975

• Wired, Elana Klein, “Math Teachers Feared Calculators Would Ruin Students,” August 18 2025

• Digital Education Council, Global AI Student Survey 2024 (August 2024).

• Audrey Watters, “A Brief History of Calculators in the Classroom.” Hack Education, 2015 — citing NCTM An Agenda for Action (1980).

• National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP), 2011 Writing Results — via Education Week report, “Most Students Fail to Reach Proficiency in Writing.”

• Turnitin press release and Wired coverage, April 2024: “Turnitin Finds AI-Generated Text in 11% of Student Papers.”

Something essential has broken in our civic life: the power of words. In a healthy democracy, persuasion—through argument, debate, and evidence—offers a way to resolve differences without force. But today, algorithmic news feeds and social media bubbles have personalized reality so deeply that many Americans no longer share even basic points of reference.

If persuasion requires some overlap in facts, values, or trust, then persuasion is failing. And when persuasion fails, violence steps in. A Reuters/Ipsos poll released this week found that most Americans now believe harsh political rhetoric is fueling political violence—an ominous sign that our democratic dialogue is cracking at its foundation.

Aristotle’s Warning

Over two thousand years ago, Aristotle taught that effective rhetoric rests on commonplaces—shared understandings that we hold in common. Ethos (credibility), pathos (emotion), and logos (logic) all depend on starting from a shared reality. A wise persuader begins where the audience already agrees and builds outward.

But today’s fractured information ecosystems have shredded those commonplaces. Instead of a town square, we inhabit algorithmic echo chambers—micro-publics where we rarely encounter other perspectives. When my news feed and your news feed bear no resemblance, argument doesn’t just become difficult; it becomes almost impossible.

Violence is Rhetorical Failure

Senator Bernie Sanders’s words after the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk ring with urgency. He called the act what it was: not only a crime, but a failure of persuasion.

“Political violence, in fact, is political cowardice. It means that you cannot convince people of the correctness of your ideas, and you have to impose them through force.”

Sanders reminded us that in a free society, dissenting views must be welcomed, not silenced:

“Every American … must condemn all forms of political violence … We must welcome and respect dissenting points of view. That … is what freedom is about.”

His warning echoes Aristotle’s: when persuasion is abandoned, all that’s left is coercion. And coercion is the death of democracy.

Schools Can Rebuild the Commons

So where do we turn? To education. We cannot control the algorithms, but we can equip the next generation with the habits of argument. Structured approaches like Pressto make persuasion visible. They teach students not only to state opinions, but to support them, to connect evidence to reasoning, and to acknowledge counterclaims.

This is not just an academic exercise. It is a civic safeguard. By teaching structured writing, we give students tools to bridge divides rather than retreat into rage.

Making Persuasion Visible

One way to fight back against fractured discourse is to make argument visible again. That’s what Pressto’s Writing Blocks™ are designed to do. Each block—Claim, Evidence, Reasoning—guides students to build an argument step by step. Instead of tossing out opinions, they learn to prove them, connecting evidence to logic in ways both they and their peers can see.

It may look like a simple scaffold, but it’s more than that: it’s practice in democratic dialogue. Every time a student uses Writing Blocks™, they are rehearsing how to engage with disagreement through persuasion rather than retreat into polarization. In an age when words are doubted and devalued, helping young people show their thinking is a small but radical act—one that can restore trust in the power of argument, one classroom at a time.

The Call to Action

We are at a dangerous crossroads. If we abandon persuasion, we invite violence. If we give up on using our words and our rhetoric, how else can we persuade? But if we recommit to teaching and practicing rhetoric, we can revive democracy’s most essential muscle.

Aristotle gave us the theory. Bernie Sanders has given us a timely reminder. The rest is up to us: educators, parents, and students who must reclaim the power of words and discourse. Because when rhetoric breaks, democracy breaks with it. And when rhetoric is rebuilt, so too is the possibility of discussion, community, understanding, and , ultimately, peace.

Writing Helps Students Process and Retain Scientific Concepts

Let’s start with something well-supported by research: students who write about what they learn in science retain more information and understand it more deeply. Educational studies consistently find that when students write in response to science content, they deepen their understanding and are more likely to remember the material over the long term. This is because writing forces students to do something active with information: to organize it, articulate it in their own words, and make connections. By transforming rudimentary ideas into coherent knowledge on the page, students are engaging in exactly the kind of cognitive processing that cements learning.

Consider two students learning about photosynthesis. One reads the textbook and answers a few end-of-chapter questions. The other writes a short paragraph explaining, in their own words, how sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide turn into glucose in a plant. Which one has to think harder? Which one is more likely to remember the concept a week later? Research would bet on the writer. Writing about scientific ideas prompts students to clarify what they know and fill in gaps, leading to stronger schema (mental frameworks) for the topic – not just isolated fact recall.

This benefit isn’t limited to older students; it holds true for elementary children as well. Even young learners in K–5 who regularly write about science topics show improved content retention and understanding. In one study, 5th graders who wrote explanations of science phenomena showed better grasp of cause-and-effect relationships than those who only studied the facts. The act of writing helps students of all ages “learn by doing” with content, which means they process it more deeply. They’re not just memorizing that plants need sunlight – they’re explaining why, which helps the knowledge stick.

Structured Writing Builds Scientific Reasoning

Science is fundamentally about structure: hypotheses lead to experiments, which lead to results, which lead to explanations. Good writing mirrors this. Yet too often, we ask students to “write in science” without giving them the organizational structures to succeed. A jumble of disconnected facts on a page is no better than a jumble of thoughts in a student’s mind. Research on writing instruction shows that teaching common text structures (such as cause–effect, problem–solution, or compare–contrast) can greatly improve students’ ability to organize and communicate ideas. In fact, awareness of these text structures improves both reading and writing outcomes for students across elementary, middle, and high school. By learning to structure an explanation or argument logically, students are also learning to structure their thinking.

Pressto’s approach is rooted in helping students choose from common text structures so their science writing has a clear shape. This isn’t just about writing better – it’s about thinking better. When students have a scaffold (like a template or graphic organizer), they learn to evaluate evidence, sequence their thoughts, and draw connections – exactly the cognitive moves scientists make when building an argument or explanation.

Want an example? Imagine a middle school assignment on climate change. Students could be given a structured task like this:

• Prompt: Compare two strategies for reducing carbon emissions.

• Writing Plan: Compare and Contrast

• Writing Blocks: Introduction, Similarity, Difference, Image with Caption, Conclusion

With this scaffold, a student isn’t left floundering on how to organize their essay – the roadmap is laid out. This structured approach guides them to engage in scientific reasoning: they must consider multiple solutions, weigh evidence for each, and synthesize their findings. The thinking is built into the writing plan.

This kind of structured writing can start early. Even at the elementary level, teachers can use simple frameworks to help children articulate science concepts. For instance, a 2nd-grade class might compare the life cycles of a butterfly and a frog using a similar compare/contrast plan. The key is providing a clear scaffold so that students focus on developing ideas and reasoning, rather than struggling with how to organize their thoughts. In one classroom, teachers had third-graders identify the components of a strong paragraph from a model text, to internalize the framework they would later use in their own science writing. Such supports have been shown to drastically improve the quality of students’ explanations and arguments, because the structure helps channel their scientific thinking in a logical way. It’s like giving them the skeleton of a scientific argument, which they then flesh out with their own observations and evidence.

There’s evidence that this approach pays off in better reasoning skills. In a study with biology students, those who wrote using structured prompts showed significantly greater gains in analysis and inference skills than peers who only did traditional Q&A or quizzes. In other words, learning to organize and explain their science knowledge made them better scientific thinkers. When we teach students how to structure an explanation (say, by making a claim, backing it with evidence, and providing reasoning), we are really teaching them the architecture of scientific reasoning.

Writing Is an Authentic Scientific Practice

In real science, writing isn’t optional—scientists draft lab reports, publish papers, and argue from evidence. The Next Generation Science Standards (NGSS) recognize this by naming “Constructing Explanations” and “Engaging in Argument from Evidence” as core practices. By middle school, students are explicitly expected to write arguments supported by data to explain phenomena or advocate solutions. Being a scientist is as much about communicating ideas as it is about generating them.

Yet classrooms too often treat writing as an ELA responsibility, not a science one. Students may read about the water cycle in science, then write a poem about it in language arts. That’s not integration—it’s avoidance. If scientists spend much of their day writing, students should be doing age-appropriate versions of the same: recording observations, formulating explanations, and arguing from data.

This doesn’t require essays. A few sentences explaining “Why did the temperature in our beaker rise?” or “What might happen if we used a different solvent?” is enough to push students to reason like scientists. Regular micro-writing tasks—quick reflections, exit tickets, short explanations—build habits of scientific reasoning and make science something students explain and discuss, not just memorize. Research shows that combining discussion with writing produces the strongest learning gains: talk clarifies ideas, while writing consolidates them into lasting understanding.

The challenge, of course, is time. Frequent short writing assignments can feel overwhelming to grade. This is where tools—including AI—can help by providing timely, supportive feedback without replacing the student’s own thinking.

AI Writing Tools Can Support – Not Replace – Science Thinking

In the age of generative AI, it’s true that a student can ask ChatGPT to “Explain how photosynthesis works” or even “Write my lab conclusion.” Does this mean writing is obsolete in science education? Absolutely not. What it means is we need to rethink how we teach writing in science. If writing is treated merely as a final product to be graded, then yes, students might be tempted to outsource it. But if writing is embedded as a thinking process, we can still ask students to “show their work” – something AI can’t easily do for them.

The key is to use AI as a writing buddy, not a ghostwriter. For instance, Pressto’s Writing Blocks™ system encourages students to draft each part of an explanation in structured chunks (introduction, evidence, reasoning, conclusion). Along the way, an AI Writing Buddy might pop up with a nudge: “Have you explained why this result matters?” or “Do you have data to back that claim?” – without outright giving the answer. This kind of real-time feedback can be incredibly helpful. Research on effective writing instruction emphasizes timely, facilitative feedback during the writing process, not just after a final draft. In practice, however, teachers often lack time to give detailed feedback on every student’s draft in progress. An AI assistant can help fill that gap by providing instant suggestions or reminders, so students can revise and strengthen their explanations as they write.

It’s important to underscore that AI should support the student’s thinking, not do it for them. The value of writing lies in the cognitive effort – deciding what’s important, how to phrase it, how to link evidence to a claim. If a machine does all that, the student learns very little. As writing expert Dr. Steve Graham puts it, if AI handled all the data and wrote your science paper, “what do I actually know?” [Collaborative Classroom]. Reading an AI-generated answer might tell a student the result, but it bypasses the mental work that leads to true understanding. We don’t want that. Instead, the vision is like the shift that happened in math education after calculators became common: we moved away from rote calculation toward requiring students to explain how they solved the problem. In writing, AI can handle low-level mechanics or offer ideas, but students can be asked to focus on the high-level reasoning and personal insight. For example, an AI tool might suggest alternative wordings for a hypothesis or point out if a student’s conclusion lacks a clear explanation of why the data matters. The student then uses those hints to improve their work. They’re still “showing their thinking,” just with a helpful coach on the side.

Pressto’s model of a Writing Buddy™ is a case in point: it’s designed to “write with them, not for them,” guiding students using research-backed feedback principles. The AI might remind a student to include relevant vocabulary or to check that their conclusion addresses the hypothesis. It won’t generate the conclusion from scratch – that remains the student’s job. By doing this, we ensure that writing in science class remains a thinking exercise, even with AI in the mix. The student is still actively constructing knowledge; the AI is an assistant, like a lab partner who says “Hey, did you consider this piece of data?”.

This approach aligns with how educators are beginning to handle AI in the classroom: as an opportunity to emphasize process. We can let students use tools to brainstorm or to catch grammar mistakes – things that don’t replace the need to understand the science. In fact, learning to use AI effectively could become another valuable skill (imagine students asking a science AI, “Am I missing any factors in my explanation?” and then critically evaluating the AI’s suggestions). The bottom line: writing is not obsolete. If anything, the rise of AI makes it more important that we double down on teaching writing as a way of learning, not just assessing. We need to explicitly tell students: we care about how you arrived at that explanation, not just the final answer. AI can help get to a polished product, but the scientific reasoning – the part we really want to develop – has to come from the student.

Writing Needs to Be Embedded in Science Classrooms

This isn’t about piling on long essays. It’s about embedding purposeful, bite-sized writing into science instruction—just as we embed hands-on experiments, discussions, and observations. Writing in science can take many forms beyond the formal lab report, and it can be woven into daily lessons without derailing content coverage.

Consider a few examples:

• Animal Habitats: After a lesson on desert ecosystems, students write a few sentences comparing how frogs and lizards survive. (Text structure: compare/contrast – focusing on water needs or skin texture.) This cements a science content goal while giving practice with explanatory writing. Research shows that using science as the context for literacy practice in early grades boosts motivation and improves both science and literacy outcomes.

• Life Cycles: When studying butterflies, students write a short sequence explanation of the metamorphosis process. They practice transitional words like first, next, then, while also reasoning about cause and effect (e.g., because the caterpillar outgrew its skin, it formed a chrysalis). Writing out the sequence helps them understand the process, not just memorize stages.

• Weather and Water: During a reading block, after listening to a nonfiction book about clouds, students can write a short explanation of how clouds form. They meet literacy objectives (comprehension, writing structure) while reinforcing science concepts—an efficient and meaningful use of time.

Notice that none of these examples require more than a paragraph or two. The goal is frequent, authentic writing woven into science, not occasional “assignments” that feel separate from learning. In these grades especially, students need lots of varied opportunities to write as part of learning content. When writing is taught in tandem with science, each supports the other: writing strengthens comprehension, and reading scientific texts provides models for writing. It’s a virtuous cycle.

From a practical standpoint, this integration also helps solve the time crunch. As Science and Children put it, instead of asking, “How can I fit writing into my science time?”, teachers might ask, “How can I use science during my writing time?” By blending the two, students practice essential literacy skills while deepening their scientific understanding.

Conclusion: If You Want Stronger Science Students, Teach Writing

The science classroom shouldn’t be a place where writing goes to die. It should be where writing comes to life – as a tool for thinking, learning, and making sense of the world. Writing instruction, done well, doesn’t distract from science at all. It is science. When students write, they are actively doing what scientists do: asking questions, gathering and analyzing information, drawing conclusions, and communicating them.

In fact, far from detracting from other subjects, increasing focus on writing can boost performance across the board. Empirical evidence shows that teaching writing makes students better readers (and teaching reading makes them better writers). That’s because so many cognitive skills overlap – organizing ideas, understanding text structure, synthesizing information. By learning to write like scientists, students also sharpen their ability to read scientific texts critically and to articulate their thoughts clearly in any subject.

With modern tools like Pressto, integrating writing into science has never been more feasible. Teachers can now give frequent, low-stakes writing assignments (e.g. quick reflections, explanations, or CER – Claim/Evidence/Reasoning – statements) without drowning in paperwork, thanks to real-time feedback and scaffolded prompts. This means we no longer have to choose between “covering content” and “teaching writing.” We can do both, simultaneously, and more effectively. It’s exactly the kind of innovation that educational leaders have been calling for – bridging the gap between knowing what works (writing-to-learn strategies) and actually making it happen in the classroom.

If we want students who can analyze data, reason from evidence, and communicate clearly, we don’t need to double the science curriculum or cram in more multiple-choice drills. We need to give students the opportunity and guidance to write as a way of learning science. From the earliest grades through high school, writing can be the thread that connects and reinforces every science lesson. As one teacher told her second graders: “A good scientist is also a good writer” [NSTA]. Embracing that mantra could be transformational. Let’s teach our students to write like scientists – our future inventors, doctors, engineers, and researchers will thank us for it.

Sources:

• National Commission on Writing, The Neglected “R”, 2003.

• Quitadamo, I. & Kurtz, M. (2007). Learning to Improve: Using Writing to Increase Critical Thinking Performance in General Education Biology.

• Pressto (2023). Writing in the Age of AI: Embracing AI and Effective Pedagogy to Revolutionize Learning, Jeanne R. Paratore.

• Rivard, L.P. & Straw, S.B. (2000). The effect of talk and writing on learning science. Science Education, 84(5), 566–593.

• Savvas Learning (2023). Why Writing Development and Instruction Matter.

• Education Week (Jan 2023). How Does Writing Fit Into the "Science of Reading"?, Stephen Sawchuk.

• Graham, S. (2023). Keynote on Writing Instruction and AI. Collaborative Classroom Blog.

• NSTA (Nov 2020). Science in the Literacy Block, Lott & Clark – Science and Children Journal.

• NSTA Blog (2015). Student Writing in Science, Mary Bigelow.

• Next Generation Science Standards – Appendix F: Science and Engineering Practices.

There’s something about listening to the radio. You don’t know what’s coming next. Sometimes a song comes on that you haven’t heard in years - or you a catch tune that you’ve never heard before. Maybe it’s a fading baseball game or some post-punk tunes like Mogwai that you never actually listened to. Sometimes you catch just the last verse of something incredible before the DJ moves on. And sometimes the signal cuts out completely, and you're left with nothing but static – fuzzzzz – hoping it’ll come back. And sometimes you lean in and listen through that static. Sometimes for a long time.

And here’s the thing: when you're really tuned in, you stay with it.

And that, to me, is what writing is like.

📻 The Signal Fades, and You Keep Writing

A few weeks ago, I helped a student work through a personal narrative assignment using Pressto. At first, the ideas came fast — the opening sentence, the hook, the memory they wanted to tell. He wrote in a flurry for about five minutes.

Then he paused. His fingers stopped. The idea he’d been chasing just… disappeared. He deleted a few lines, stared at the blinking cursor, looked out the window. It was like the signal had faded. STATIC.

But he didn’t close the laptop. He didn’t switch tabs. He waited.

He reread what he’d written, tried a new sentence, deleted it, tried another. Ten minutes passed. And then — something came back. The words clicked. The story returned.

He chased the signal, and he caught it.

That’s writing.

🍿 Passive Content Makes Us Weak Thinkers

We’re all swimming in passive content now. Our phones show us exactly what we want, before we know we want it. Algorithms do the hard part — they listen for us. They write for us. They even think for us.

And while that’s convenient, it’s also corrosive to something deeper: our ability to struggle with uncertainty, to persist through confusion, and to create.

Writing is not passive consumption. It's not auto-play. It's not tapping through 15-second clips. Writing is deliberate. It’s uncertain. It requires silence. It rewards patience, persistence, and focus – not speed.

At Pressto, we’re not building a tool that “writes for you.” We’re building a tool that helps students hear their own ideas more clearly — and stay with them, even when they’re not fully formed. Especially then!

🧠 Structure Helps You Hear the Music

Structure in writing isn’t about control. It’s not prescriptive. It just helps with listening closely. The same way a radio antenna helps to pick up the signal, a well-framed writing structure helps students catch the ideas floating just out of reach.

This is why we build tools that don’t just say “start writing” — they offer guidance, rhythm, scaffolding. So when the signal gets fuzzy, the student knows where to focus their attention & how to stay tuned.

They don’t abandon the page. They write through the static.

❓So What Does the Future Look Like?

The emphasis on reading and *Science of Reading* is important, but the goal of a classroom should be to create a generation of creators, not consumers. A generation of critical thinkers, not passive scrollers.

What would it look like to create more active creators and critical thinkers? Not just passive content consumers. Students who are willing to chase a quiet and difficult idea until it becomes a clear signal that they can share?

Because in the end, whether you’re tuning in to a fading song on a late-night station or wrestling with the next sentence of a story, the skill is the same:
you listen, you wait, you stay with it.

The fuzz isn’t the enemy — it’s the space where the real work happens. And if we can teach students to listen & struggle through it, we’re not just teaching them to write.

We’re teaching them how to think.
We’re teaching them how to create.
We’re teaching them how to stay with the signal until the music comes back.

Thanks to Elisabeth Arnold Weiss and Barbara Stedman (aka Mom) for reading drafts of this.

This blog post was inspired while listening to Mogwai on Cove FM, Hubbards Radio Society in Seabright, Nova Scotia. I didn’t realize at the time that the album is called “No Education = No Future” !!!!

❤️ If you made it this far, please let me know what you think about this essay. This was more personal than past posts. ❤️

As a result, students may learn to sound out words with increasing fluency, but lack the tools to think deeply, express themselves clearly, or comprehend complex texts.

The Upper Strands: Often Overlooked, Always Essential

Scarborough’s Reading Rope provides a widely accepted model of skilled reading, composed of two interdependent domains:

• Word Recognition: phonological awareness, decoding, and sight recognition

• Language Comprehension: background knowledge, vocabulary, language structures, verbal reasoning, and comprehension strategies

While decoding becomes increasingly automatic with instruction and practice, language comprehension must become increasingly strategic. The upper strands are not ancillary – they are essential to comprehension. Students cannot become proficient readers without robust language comprehension skills.

Yet many SoR-aligned programs devote the majority of instructional time to the lower strands, especially in grades K–2, leaving limited space for knowledge-building, deep vocabulary work, or extended writing. This imbalance risks producing students who can sound out words fluently but struggle to make meaning from complex texts.

Reading and Writing: A Reciprocal Relationship

A growing body of research highlights the deep cognitive and developmental connections between reading and writing. Far from being isolated skills, they are mutually reinforcing processes that draw on shared knowledge and strategies:

• Both rely on understanding text structures, syntax, and vocabulary.

• Both require background knowledge and the ability to organize ideas.

• Both benefit from explicit instruction and frequent opportunities for practice.

As literacy expert Timothy Shanahan explains, reading and writing share “a lot of real estate”: phonological knowledge, vocabulary, grammar, text structure, and reasoning all contribute to success in both domains.

Recent analyses by Steve Graham and colleagues reinforce this point. Studies show that:

• Teaching writing improves reading comprehension and fluency.

• Teaching reading improves writing quality and structure.

• Integrated instruction in both yields stronger results than isolated instruction in either.

Writing is not just an output skill – it is a powerful tool for reinforcing and internalizing reading strategies.

Writing Supports Vocabulary and Syntax

Vocabulary is a key component of language comprehension. Yet many skills-focused reading programs provide only superficial exposure to new words. Writing provides a meaningful solution: writing requires students to use vocabulary actively, applying new terms in original sentences, summaries, or analyses. This kind of active processing promotes deeper word knowledge and long-term retention.

Similarly, writing sharpens students’ awareness of sentence structure and grammar. While reading can expose students to sophisticated syntax, writing requires them to produce it. Constructing complex sentences, mimicking literary styles, or experimenting with figurative language deepens students’ understanding of language forms. This reinforces the very same upper-strand skills educators seek to build through reading instruction.

Writing Builds Background Knowledge

Background knowledge is a key predictor of reading comprehension. Numerous studies, including those by E.D. Hirsch and others, have shown that readers with greater domain knowledge comprehend texts more easily, particularly in content-rich subjects like science and history.

Writing supports the development of background knowledge by encouraging organization, synthesis, and explanation of new content. When students write about what they learn – summarizing a science article, explaining a historical cause-and-effect relationship, or describing an experiment – they not only deepen their understanding, but they are more likely to remember and retrieve that knowledge later.

Meta-analyses (e.g., Graham et al., 2020) have confirmed that writing-to-learn activities improve content acquisition in science, social studies, and math. These effects are especially strong when writing is closely tied to reading and inquiry, and when students are asked to explain, analyze, or reflect on what they’ve read.

Writing Improves Comprehension

Writing is not just a tool for reinforcing reading—it is a direct means of improving comprehension. Asking students to write about a text, whether through summarizing, responding to prompts, or analyzing character motivations, helps them clarify meaning, identify key ideas, and monitor their understanding.

Graham and Hebert’s (2011) review of over 100 studies found that students who wrote about texts (through written answers, summaries, or notes) demonstrated significantly greater reading comprehension than peers who did not.

This writing-about-reading approach is particularly valuable for:

• Students who struggle with inference or synthesis

• English learners developing academic language

• Any student encountering complex or content-rich texts

Even brief writing exercises, such as quick-writes, exit tickets, or two-sentence summaries, can make comprehension visible and offer teachers powerful formative data.

Integration Is Key

Perhaps the most important takeaway from recent research is this: reading and writing should be taught together, not in silos.

A 2017 meta-analysis of balanced literacy programs found that instructional approaches which integrated reading and writing instruction (rather than favoring one) produced the most consistent gains across both domains.

Integrated practices include:

• Reading a text and writing a response (summary, opinion, explanation)

• Teaching comprehension strategies through both reading and writing tasks

• Using writing to build vocabulary and reinforce background knowledge

• Explicit instruction in text structures used for both reading and writing (narrative, expository, argumentative)

Such integration helps students see the purpose and relevance of both skills—and allows the upper strands of the reading rope to grow in strength alongside decoding fluency.

Implications for Practice

To fully realize the promise of the Science of Reading, educators and curriculum designers must re-center writing within early and ongoing literacy instruction. This doesn’t mean reducing decoding time or delaying phonics – it means ensuring that comprehension, vocabulary, syntax, and content knowledge are addressed in tandem, with writing as a central vehicle.

Key shifts might include:

• Embedding writing tasks into every major reading activity

• Prioritizing writing-to-learn in content areas (science, history)

• Teaching sentence construction and grammar explicitly

• Modeling how writing mirrors the structure and logic of texts

• Creating time for extended writing aligned with reading goals

As schools refine their SoR-aligned practices, it’s essential to move beyond the lower strands of the rope. Writing is one of the most powerful tools we have to develop the upper strands – vocabulary, language comprehension, and knowledge-building – that make reading truly meaningful.

By integrating writing into the fabric of literacy instruction, we can help students become not just fluent decoders, but thoughtful, expressive, and confident readers and writers.

References

• Scarborough, H. S. (2001). Connecting early language and literacy to later reading (dis)abilities: Evidence, theory, and practice. In S. B. Neuman & D. K. Dickinson (Eds.), Handbook of Early Literacy Research (Vol. 1).

• Graham, S., & Hebert, M. (2011). Writing to read: A meta-analysis of the impact of writing and writing instruction on reading. Harvard Educational Review

• Graham, S., Liu, X., Aitken, A., Ng, C., Bartlett, B., Harris, K., & Holzapfel, J. (2017). Effectiveness of literacy programs balancing reading and writing instruction: A meta-analysis. Reading Research Quarterly,

• Graham, S. (2020). The sciences of reading and writing must become more fully integrated. Reading Research Quarterly

• Graham, S., Kiuhara, S., & MacKay, M. (2020). The effects of writing on learning in science, social studies, and mathematics: A meta-analysis. Review of Educational Research

• Shanahan, T. (2016). Relationships between reading and writing development. In C. A. MacArthur, S. Graham, & J. Fitzgerald (Eds.), Handbook of Writing Research

• Shanahan, T. (2020, September 18). What is the Science of Reading? Shanahan on Literacy

• Sawchuk, S. (2023, January 17). How does writing fit into the ‘Science of Reading’? Education Week.

• Sedita, J. (2024, May 31). Connecting the ropes: Integrating reading & writing instruction. Keys to Literacy

• Hansen, L. (2024, July 9). Why it’s so important to have students write about what they read.

If you’ve followed our work, you know we’ve said again and again that writing is thinking. Sedita’s article not only echoes that truth – it expands on it, offering practical insight into what writing instruction should look like in a world where AI is here to stay.

AI as a Teaching Partner – Not a Replacement

“The availability of AI does not eliminate the need for students to learn how to write, nor does it replace the importance of explicit writing instruction.” - Joan Sedita

One of Sedita’s central points is that generative AI doesn’t remove the need for good teaching – it reinforces it. Yes, ChatGPT can produce essays. But that doesn’t mean students no longer need to learn how to write. If anything, explicit writing instruction is more essential than ever.

At Pressto, we’ve always believed that AI should act like a writing coach – not a ghostwriter. Our tools are designed to support students and free up teachers’ time, but the cognitive labor of writing still belongs to the student. Like Sedita, we believe AI should “supplement, not replace” best practice. That’s why Pressto doesn’t just correct grammar or rewrite essays – it prompts, supports, and empowers students to revise their own work.

Writing Is a Thinking Process – Not Just a Product

“Writing is not merely a final product – it is a process and a powerful tool for critical thinking.” - Joan Sedita

This may be Sedita’s most important reminder: writing is thinking. When students write, they’re not just preparing something to turn in. They’re organizing ideas, making meaning, and deepening understanding.

At The Science of Writing, we aim to help educators to operationalize this belief every day with daily quick writes, reflection prompts, and student journaling features. These aren’t about producing polished paragraphs – they’re about building the habit of thinking through writing. Like Sedita, we insist that students should always write their own first drafts. AI can help refine them later, but never before the student has done the heavy lifting of thought.

The Writing Rope Still Holds

“Although AI tools can support the use of these skills and strategies, they cannot replace the need for students to learn how to independently integrate and apply them.” - Joan Sedita

Sedita's Writing Rope model – which outlines five key strands of skilled writing: critical thinking, syntax, text structure, writing craft, and transcription – remains just as relevant today [2]. AI might help with spelling or transitions, but it can’t weave the rope for students.

Pressto is built to address all five strands:

• Critical thinking: Our prompts encourage deep thought, analysis, and argumentation.

• Syntax and transcription: Our feedback highlights sentence construction and mechanics, while keeping students in control.

• Text structure: We guide students with flexible templates and outlines that teach structure without being formulaic.

• Writing craft: Most importantly, we help students preserve their voice. Our AI doesn’t overwrite – it offers suggestions. The student makes the call.

Bringing Sedita’s Vision to Life: Pressto in Action

Sedita doesn’t just theorize – she offers practical, research-aligned suggestions for how to integrate AI into the writing classroom. Here’s how Pressto helps to bring these to life:

Structured, Daily Writing Practice

Sedita emphasizes frequent opportunities to write. Pressto allows teachers to assign quick writes and journals that build fluency, reflection, and confidence.

Scaffolds and “Training Wheels”

Sedita calls for explicit guidance throughout the writing process. Pressto’s “clickable text blocks” and sentence starters help students structure their ideas – then fade away as students gain independence.

Brainstorming Support

AI can help students generate ideas without judgment. Our Assignment Assistant does just that. It offers age-appropriate, interest-aligned prompts to get students started.

AI-Powered Revision, Not Rewriting

Sedita champions AI as a revision coach. Pressto’s feedback system offers suggestions, and students stay in control of every change.

Join Us in Reimagining Writing Instruction

Here at The Science of Writing & Pressto, we believe that Sedita’s article speaks well to the future. Her article affirms what we’ve known all along: when students write, they think. And when they own the writing process, even with AI nearby, they grow as learners, thinkers, and communicators.

We invite you to try Pressto, share your experience, and help shape what writing instruction looks like in the age of AI.

References

Sedita, J. (2025, April). Writing Instruction in the Age of AI. Keys to Literacy.

Sedita, J. (2019). The Writing Rope: A Framework for Explicit Writing Instruction in All Subjects. Keys to Literacy.

Hayes, J. R. (1996). A new framework for understanding cognition and affect in writing. In C. M. Levy & S. Ransdell (Eds.), The science of writing.

Hayes, J. R. (2004). What triggers revision?

Graham, S., MacArthur, C. A., & Fitzgerald, J. (Eds.). (2012). Best Practices in Writing Instruction.

Correction: An earlier version of this post incorrectly attributed the quote “Writing is thinking on paper” to Joan Sedita. The quote should be correctly attributed to William Zinsser. We regret the error and have updated the attribution.

The rise of generative AI is transforming writing instruction—quickly, deeply, and irreversibly. Since ChatGPT’s launch in late 2022, it has become the fastest-adopted consumer technology in history, and students were among its earliest adopters.

By the end of 2024, nearly one in four U.S. teens had used it for schoolwork—double the share from the year before.

This raises an urgent question: If AI can generate paragraphs, essays, or even feedback in seconds, what role does writing instruction still play?

The answer—backed by decades of research and educator experience—is an essential one. Writing is not just about producing words; it's about thinking, learning, organizing, and expressing. In this post, we’ll explore how to build and use AI tools in ways that honor this truth, grounding innovation in the Science of Writing and the best of what educators know works.

Why Writing Still Matters in an AI World

The temptation for students to let AI “do the writing” is real. But research is unequivocal: writing instruction remains one of the most powerful drivers of literacy, learning, and critical thinking across all disciplines and subject areas.

Studies show that students who write about what they read—through summaries, responses, or explanations—develop stronger reading comprehension than students who only read or discuss texts. As William Zinsser puts it, writing is “thinking on paper.” It's how students clarify ideas, synthesize information, and build long-term understanding.

Writing instruction also strengthens foundational reading skills. Teaching students to build and expand sentences improves their grasp of grammar and syntax—skills that carry over into decoding and fluency. And learning text structures (like sequence, cause and effect, or argument) helps students recognize and retain those patterns while reading.

The relationship between reading and writing is symbiotic—and AI doesn’t replace that. Instead, it should reinforce and expand opportunities for students to engage deeply with language.

And yet, when it comes to national assessments and educational priorities, writing has often taken a back seat. A quick look at NAEP’s assessment history makes it clear: reading is assessed regularly and extensively—writing, far less so.

That gap matters. If we’re not measuring writing, we’re not investing in improving it—and we risk sending the message that writing is secondary, when it’s actually foundational to learning across all subjects.

The Writing Rope: A Blueprint for AI Integration

Sedita’s “Writing Rope,” adapted from Scarborough’s Reading Rope, provides a helpful framework for how writing develops. It identifies five interwoven strands:

• Critical Thinking (idea development and planning)

• Syntax (grammar and sentence fluency)

• Text Structure (organization and flow)

• Writing Craft (voice, word choice, style)

• Transcription (spelling, typing, handwriting)

Effective writing instruction teaches and reinforces each of these strands. AI tools should do the same—not shortcut the process but support it in thoughtful, strategic ways.

Let’s explore how.

How AI Can Support Each Strand

1. Critical Thinking and the Writing Process

AI can serve as a brainstorming partner, suggesting prompts or posing reflective questions. Pressto’s AI, for example, helps elementary students overcome the blank page by offering personalized sentence starters and idea blocks that spark engagement.

Planning and outlining tools can help structure ideas—like graphic organizers or scaffolded templates. During revision, AI might ask: “Can you explain this idea further?”—nudging the student toward deeper analysis.

2. Syntax: Sentence Fluency and Grammar

AI grammar tools provide real-time feedback: highlighting run-ons, verb agreement issues, or punctuation errors. But caution is critical. If AI always corrects students automatically, they may never learn the grammar themselves.

Pressto’s approach is instructive: early drafts have grammar checkers disabled so that students can focus on ideas without fear of mistakes. Research has shown that corrective feedback too early can be a major roadblock to student progress. Grammar instruction then happens with the teacher in the revision phase, allowing creativity and clarity to emerge in tandem.

3. Text Structure: Organizing Ideas

Good writing starts with a plan. Tools like Pressto allow teachers to assign a writing plan. Students can also select a writing plan before they begin.

Students can use a ‘Compare and Contrast’ plan to write about two animals they’ve studied in science class, for example.

Used wisely, AI can reinforce patterns of strong organization—but only after students first attempt it themselves. Structure must ultimately be learned through practice, not prefilled.

4. Writing Craft and Style

This is where AI must tread most carefully. Voice and style are deeply personal—core to a writer’s identity. While AI can suggest stronger verbs or flag tonal shifts (e.g., “This sounds very formal—was that your goal?”), it should never dictate phrasing or overwrite intention.

The risk is that student writing becomes formulaic, bland, or overly polished in a way that erases individuality. Students need to understand: AI can offer suggestions, but you—the writer—make the decisions. Craft is where human creativity, personality, and agency must stay firmly in control.

5. Transcription: Getting Words on the Page

In Sedita’s original Writing Rope, “transcription” refers to the foundational mechanics of writing—handwriting, spelling, typing, and punctuation. These are often overlooked, but they’re essential: if students struggle with the physical act of getting words on the page, their higher-level writing skills (like organization and voice) can’t fully develop. In early grades, transcription means learning to form letters and spell phonetically. In later grades, it includes keyboard fluency, proper punctuation, and conventions that allow ideas to flow smoothly.

Today, however, transcription also intersects with accessibility. Many students face real mechanical barriers—dyslexia, dysgraphia, fine motor challenges—that can make transcription a source of frustration. This is where AI-powered tools can provide vital support. For example, speech-to-text allows a student to “write” with their voice, bypassing the motor demands of typing or handwriting. Smart spell-checkers help students produce readable drafts, even if spelling is still developing. These tools don’t replace the need for explicit instruction in mechanics—but they can level the playing field, freeing up students’ cognitive energy to focus on composition, structure, and meaning.

In other words, AI should scaffold the act of writing—never substitute the development of it.

The Science of Reading also reminds us that spelling reinforces decoding and phonics. So while AI tools can assist transcription, they shouldn’t fully automate it. A thoughtful balance is key. Some students might draft via dictation, then revise manually. Others might type first, then review spelling errors with targeted guidance. In each case, AI should reduce barriers—not bypass skill-building.

Used well, transcription support makes writing more equitable. It ensures that students’ ideas aren’t held hostage by their mechanics, while still building those mechanics over time. In this way, the transcription strand becomes not only a foundation—but also a gateway to expression.

AI as Coach, Not Crutch

The best way to think about AI in writing education? A coach—not a ghostwriter.

Good coaches ask questions, offer advice, and push writers to grow. They don’t hand over finished work. That same principle should guide AI development.

Here are a few roles AI can play:

• Idea Generation: Tools like Pressto generate prompts tailored to student interests.

• Real-Time Feedback: AI grammar support highlights issues without auto-correcting, so students learn from their mistakes.

• Scaffolded Revision: AI can suggest additions, spot inconsistencies, or prompt clarity—but the student makes the edits.

• Personalized Practice: Systems like Packback’s Deep Dives give rubric-based feedback aligned to each student’s needs, boosting revision and engagement.

Used thoughtfully, AI amplifies what teachers already do well—and extends their reach.

From Calculators to Composition: Why “Show Your Work” Still Matters

This shift mirrors a moment from math education history.

When calculators first entered classrooms, many teachers worried they would undermine students’ ability to perform basic calculations. And for a time, that fear seemed valid—some students did rely too heavily on the calculator.

But the field adapted.

Today, calculators are an accepted part of math instruction—not because we abandoned skills practice, but because we raised the bar. Students still learn arithmetic by hand—but they also learn to model, estimate, solve complex problems, and, most importantly, show their work.

In fact, showing your reasoning became even more essential once the answer itself was no longer enough.

The same evolution is happening now in writing.

Tools like Pressto bring “show your work” to writing instruction. They don’t just generate text—they guide students through the thinking process behind it: planning, structuring, revising, and reflecting.

With the right AI tools, we’re not replacing writing skills—we’re elevating them.

Building AI That’s Aligned With the Science of Writing

To truly support education, AI must be built for classrooms—not retrofitted after the fact. Here’s what that means in practice:

1. Ground Tools in Research

AI writing models should reflect evidence-based practices from the Science of Reading and Writing. That means prompting planning, encouraging revision, and reinforcing text structure—not just generating content.

2. Keep Humans in the Loop

Teachers should remain central. Dashboards can show what AI assisted with; controls can let educators customize difficulty or turn off features. The goal: collaboration, not replacement.

3. Guard Against Bias and Inaccuracy

AI must be tuned for educational reliability—fact-checking sources, avoiding “hallucinations,” and respecting cultural and dialectal diversity. Fairness, transparency, and data privacy are non-negotiable.

4. Iterate with Real Feedback

Just like writing, AI should evolve through drafts. Developers should learn from classroom use: What inspires students? What confuses them? What needs adjusting?

When teachers, researchers, and developers collaborate, AI tools get better—and more human.

A New Chapter in Writing Instruction

Writing is changing. But its importance is not fading—it’s expanding.

In the coming years, students will not just need to write essays. They’ll need to write with AI. That means knowing when to ask for help, how to evaluate suggestions, and how to maintain their own voice in a world of machine language.

The goal isn’t to shield students from AI. It’s to prepare them to think with it. To stay in charge. To become confident, capable writers in any context.

When AI is built with care, aligned to research, and guided by educators, it can help every student get the support they need—and help every teacher focus more on what matters most: nurturing the writers and thinkers of tomorrow.

Author bio: Daniel Stedman is an educator, edtech founder, and co-creator of Pressto. He writes regularly about the intersection of literacy, AI, and learning design for The Science of Writing. He was previously the founder of Brooklyn Magazine.

Writing Across the Curriculum: Everyone’s Job

Writing isn’t only for English class – it belongs in every subject! Whether it’s explaining a science experiment, analyzing a historical event, or solving a math word problem, writing helps students deepen their understanding. Educators have long noted that writing is a mode of learning; when students write about what they’re studying, they’re actively processing and retaining the material in a deeper way [1]. For example, asking a history student to write a short journal entry from the perspective of a historical figure can cement their grasp of the facts and significance. In science, writing a lab reflection or a hypothesis encourages precision in thinking.

Writing Across the Curriculum is about making writing a routine part of learning in all disciplines. This approach benefits students in multiple ways. First, it reinforces content knowledge—writing about a topic forces students to recall and organize information, which strengthens memory. (Cognitive science calls this retrieval practice, and it’s great for learning.) Second, it builds students’ communication skills. They learn to adapt their writing to different contexts: a persuasive essay in social studies, a lab report in chemistry, or a personal narrative in language arts. Each format strengthens their overall writing ability. By including writing tasks in various subjects, teachers also send a message that clear written communication is a universal skill, not just an ELA requirement.

In the age of AI, writing across the curriculum is even more crucial. If students are only asked to write in one class, they might get fewer opportunities to practice – and more temptation to offload the work to AI. But when writing is woven into daily learning across subjects, students consistently exercise their writing muscles. It becomes a normal part of thinking, not an onerous task to evade. Moreover, teachers in all subjects can design authentic writing assignments that are harder for AI to complete credibly. For instance, a biology teacher might have students write a brief analysis of their own experiment’s results – something ChatGPT wouldn’t know because it’s based on the student’s unique lab data. Such assignments encourage original thought and make misuse of AI less appealing.

There’s also a collaborative benefit. When every teacher incorporates writing, the school can develop consistent expectations and support for writing skills. A student who learns how to structure a paragraph in English class will be prompted to apply those skills in history class, too. This consistency reinforces good habits. Schools can even share a common language (thesis, evidence, conclusion, etc.) so that students hear the same terminology and advice in every classroom. In short, writing across the curriculum turns writing from a one-class challenge into a school-wide culture.

Multilingual Learners and Structured Support

In many classrooms, teachers work with multilingual learners (students for whom English is not the first language). These students face the dual challenge of mastering content and language simultaneously. Structured writing instruction is a lifesaver for them. Why? Because having clear frameworks, models, and scaffolds for writing helps multilingual learners express their ideas without being stopped in their tracks by language barriers.

One powerful strategy is using graphic organizers and sentence frames. Research shows that graphic organizers can reduce cognitive load for multilingual writers by helping them visually map out ideas and relationships instead of juggling everything in a new language in their head [2]. For example, before writing an essay, an English learner might use a graphic organizer to plan their introduction, body, and conclusion with keywords or phrases in their native language or in simple English. This planning stage lets them focus on structuring their thoughts. Sentence frames (partial sentences with blanks to fill in) can also guide students in forming correct sentences. A frame like “The experiment showed ___ because ___.” provides a starting structure so they can plug in their specific information. These tools build confidence: students see that they do have ideas worth writing, and they have a road map to communicate them.

Explicit instruction is equally important. Teachers should directly teach how to organize an essay or a paragraph, how to use transition words, and how to choose academic vocabulary. Multilingual learners, especially, benefit from clear models of each genre of writing (stories, arguments, explanations) and what kind of language each requires [2]. For instance, showing examples of a scientific explanation with phrases like “the data indicates…” or a narrative with past-tense verbs and dialogue gives these students templates to emulate. This structured approach demystifies the patterns of English writing. Rather than assuming students will “pick it up,” teachers spell it out and practice it together. All students benefit from such clarity, but it’s particularly crucial for those learning English.

Another supportive practice is to embrace students’ first languages as assets. It might sound counterintuitive in a writing class to let students use other languages, but research suggests that allowing multilingual learners to brainstorm or initially write in their strongest language can lead to more complex ideas and better overall writing in English [3]. This process, known as translanguaging, recognizes that thinking isn’t limited to one language at a time. For example, a student might outline their argument in Spanish first to get their full range of thoughts out, then translate that outline into English with the teacher’s help. By doing so, they’re not restricted by a limited English vocabulary during the idea-generation phase. Eventually, as their English grows, they’ll rely less on their first language. The key is that we encourage them to think deeply and not let limited language proficiency force shallow writing. Over time, this leads to more original and content-rich work in English [3].

Finally, structured writing instruction for multilingual learners should include lots of feedback and revision opportunities. These students may make more errors at first, so a growth-minded classroom environment is vital. Teachers can conference one-on-one, highlighting a few key areas (maybe verb tenses, or organizing ideas clearly) for the student to improve in the next draft. Celebrating what the student does well (perhaps they used a strong example or have a compelling idea) alongside corrections keeps them motivated. The structure of drafting and revising with guidance helps multilingual writers see concrete improvement and realize that writing is a process, not a one-shot test of English fluency.

Teacher Strategies for an AI-Enabled Classroom: Structure Is the Anchor

Let’s be real—some students are going to use AI in certain circumstances. Whether it’s for brainstorming, fixing grammar, or writing entire drafts, tools like ChatGPT are already in the mix. But here’s the good news: when teachers emphasize structure, students still learn how to write—even if they’re using AI along the way. In fact, structure is the anchor that keeps writing instruction grounded, no matter how advanced the tools get.

That’s where structured writing platforms like Pressto come in. These tools don’t just generate prompts—they guide students through the thinking process of writing. Instead of handing students a blank page (or a blank chatbot window), Pressto breaks writing into building blocks: planning, organizing, connecting ideas, and revising. It teaches rhetorical structure—introduction, body, conclusion; claim, evidence, reasoning; sequence, cause and effect—through interactive supports. Students still have to do the work of shaping their ideas, even if they get help along the way.

Here’s why that matters: AI can generate a paragraph, but it can’t teach a student why that paragraph works. It won’t tell them if the reasoning is sound, or if the argument flows logically. But if a student is working within a structured writing environment, they’re learning the underlying architecture of writing as they go. They see how a transition connects two ideas. They understand what makes a strong conclusion. Even if they use AI to get a nudge—or to help fill in a section—they’re still practicing the moves that make writing meaningful.

This shifts the teacher’s role in a powerful way. Instead of policing AI use, teachers can focus on guiding students through the process of writing. Structured tools make it easy to see who’s planning, who’s organizing, who’s revising. You can step in when a student’s structure breaks down, rather than just reacting to the final product. And students start to internalize the idea that good writing has shape, logic, and flow—skills they’ll need whether they’re writing an essay, drafting an email, or using AI in the workplace someday.

Bottom line: If you build structure into your writing instruction—through graphic organizers, modeling, or platforms like Pressto—you’re teaching students how to think like writers, even in an AI-enabled world. You're not fighting the future. You’re preparing students to write within it—with purpose, clarity, and confidence.

Conclusion: Reimagining Writing Instruction With AI

Nearly three-quarters of students in the U.S. already struggle to meet grade-level writing standards [1]. The emergence of AI could either exacerbate this problem or help solve it – and the outcome depends on how we respond as educators. The solution is not to abandon writing or throw up our hands at ChatGPT’s prowess. Instead, it’s to recommit to structured writing instruction. That means teaching writing explicitly and thoughtfully: across the curriculum, with support for diverse learners, and with modern tools that enhance (rather than replace) the student’s own efforts.

In an AI-enabled classroom, structured writing instruction ensures that students are still the ones doing the important cognitive work. They brainstorm ideas, organize their thoughts, choose words, and ultimately produce writing that reflects their mind at work. AI can assist by handling routine tasks and providing instantaneous feedback, but it cannot replicate a student’s unique voice or original thinking. By focusing on structure and process, we empower students to use AI in a productive way – as a helpful assistant or coach – while they remain the authentic authors of their work.

Platforms like Pressto offer a glimpse of how we can marry technology with pedagogy. Teachers get support through automatically generated prompts and real-time student feedback, and students get a scaffolded environment that makes writing less intimidating and more engaging. It’s a win-win if implemented well. The technology is there to support the science of writing instruction, not to supplant it.

For busy K–12 educators, the prospect of overhauling writing instruction might feel daunting, especially with so many demands on your time. But incorporating these ideas can be done gradually. Try adding one writing exercise to a non-ELA class next week. Introduce a simple graphic organizer for your next writing assignment. Have a quick chat with your class about ChatGPT and honesty. Small steps can foster big changes in how students perceive writing.

The age of AI is here to stay, but so is the need for genuine human writers. By making our writing instruction more structured, supportive, and savvy to new tools, we can help students find their own voices amidst the noise. In fact, we might just ignite a passion for writing that no machine can match. After all, the ultimate aim is not just to produce competent essays for school – it’s to nurture thinkers and communicators who can navigate a complex world with clarity and confidence. Structured writing instruction, paired with thoughtful use of AI, can ensure our students grow into the articulate, creative, and ethical writers we need in the future.

References:

1. National Center for Education Statistics (2012). The Nation’s Report Card: Writing 2011. (Only about 24% of 8th and 12th graders performed at the Proficient level in writing, meaning roughly three-quarters fell below proficiency.)

2. Squire, A., & Clark, S. K. (2020). “Exploring how fourth-grade emerging bilinguals learn to write opinion essays.” Literacy Research and Instruction, 59(1), 53–77. (Demonstrates the benefits of graphic organizers, modeling, and explicit writing instruction for multilingual learners.)

3. García, O., & Velasco, P. (2014). “Translanguaging and the writing of bilingual learners.” Bilingual Research Journal, 37(1), 6–23. (Findings show that allowing students to use their first language in the writing process can enhance idea development and overall writing quality in the second language.)

4. Sorte, S. (2024). “When should ChatGPT be taught in K–12? Let’s get into it.” EduLab Capital (Medium), Feb 14, 2024. (Quotes ed-tech CEO Brad Schiller on the concern that 86% of K–12 students are at a basic writing level, underscoring the need for strong foundational writing instruction before heavy AI use.)

5. Morrone, M. (2023). “This generative AI tool actually teaches kids how to write.” Fast Company, March 26, 2023. (Describes how experienced educator Esther Wojcicki sees AI as a way to engage students in writing, and details features of the Pressto platform – such as AI-generated prompts and an AI Writing Buddy – that help students structure their writing without doing the work for them.)

Some of the highest-achieving high-poverty schools have identified a common factor to their success – a school-wide emphasis on developing writing skills across content areas. In short, effective writing instruction not only helps ELs become better writers, it builds their overall language proficiency and academic confidence.

However, writing in a new language can be intimidating for students. Educators often face groans or anxiety when it’s time to put pencil to paper (or fingers to keyboard). The good news is that a robust body of research, often referred to as the "science of writing," points to strategies that can make writing a positive, productive experience for ELs. These strategies include structured, explicit instruction, purposeful scaffolding and differentiation, a focus on feedback and revision, use of multimodal supports, and opportunities for publishing to an authentic audience.

The Science of Writing: What It Means for ELs

The science of writing is based on decades of research into how students develop writing skills. It emphasizes that writing must be explicitly taught, with direct instruction in skills like sentence construction, text structure, planning, and revision. These findings are especially important for English Learners, who benefit from clear models and structured opportunities to practice.

Key findings from the science of writing include:

• Writing instruction improves not only writing quality but also reading comprehension and content learning (Graham & Perin, 2007).

• Students benefit from daily writing time, combined with targeted instruction on writing strategies (Graham et al., 2012).

• Revising and editing are critical components, best learned through cycles of feedback (US Department of Education, 2012).

• Teaching students how to plan, organize, and develop ideas leads to stronger writing outcomes (Shanahan, 2006).

For EL students, this research supports the need for intentional, scaffolded instruction that integrates language and writing development. Writing and thinking are deeply intertwined; when EL students write about content they are learning (for example, summarizing a science experiment or composing a history journal entry), it leads them to think critically about the subject matter and the language needed to convey it (Brisk & Zisselsberger, 2011).

Instructional Strategies Grounded in the Science of Writing

1. Structured and Explicit Instruction

ELs need more than just prompts to write; they need models, mentor texts, and explicit teaching. Show students how to construct a paragraph. Break down sentence types. Teach transition words. Use color-coding or sentence combining exercises. These structured approaches help students internalize both form and function. The gradual release of responsibility framework (Pearson & Gallagher, 1983) is especially effective: model the writing process, share the pen, then release students to try on their own.

Try This: Use mentor texts to highlight strong openings or transitions. Have students practice mimicking the structure before creating their own versions.

2. Scaffolding and Differentiation

Scaffolds help ELs do more than they could independently. These may include sentence frames, graphic organizers, modeled writing, and word banks. As students grow more confident, gradually remove supports. Scaffolding should be responsive to each student's level of English proficiency (WIDA, 2012). Effective scaffolds support access to grade-level content without simplifying it (Gibbons, 2009).

Try This: Offer multiple versions of an assignment for different proficiency levels. For example, provide sentence starters for beginners and outline-only support for intermediate ELs.

3. Feedback and Revision Cycles

Feedback is central to improvement. According to the science of writing, students must learn to revise. For ELs, feedback should address both content and language use. Peer reviews, teacher conferences, and digital tools can support this. Graham et al. (2012) emphasize the importance of peer and teacher feedback loops in developing writing proficiency.

Try This: Create a simple revision checklist. Focus first on content clarity, then sentence variety, and finally grammar or word choice.

4. Publishing and Authentic Audience

Writing becomes more meaningful when there’s a real audience. Sharing writing in class, with families, or on a digital platform boosts motivation and pride. Authentic audiences increase effort and motivation among EL writers (Cummins & Early, 2011).

Try This: Let students create a class book, digital zine, or blog. Even printing and displaying writing on a classroom wall can validate student effort.

Integrating Science of Writing into Daily Practice

Here’s what this might look like in a classroom:

• Monday: Teach a writing mini-lesson (e.g. topic sentences)

• Tuesday: Use a mentor text and jointly write with the class

• Wednesday: Students write independently using scaffolds

• Thursday: Peer feedback and teacher conferencing

• Friday: Final drafts, sharing, and celebration

This routine provides structure while allowing room for growth and creativity. It reflects the science of writing by emphasizing modeling, practice, feedback, and authentic purpose.

Final Thoughts

The science of writing gives educators a clear path forward. When we combine structured instruction with meaningful writing opportunities, we help English Learners become confident, capable writers. Writing isn’t just a product of language learning—it’s a driving force behind it. Let’s teach writing not as a mystery, but as a craft. With the right tools, strategies, and encouragement, every EL student can discover the joy and power of writing.

References

• Brisk, M. E., & Zisselsberger, M. (2011). Scaffolding argumentation through genre-based writing instruction. Journal of English for Academic Purposes.

• Cummins, J., & Early, M. (2011). Identity Texts: The Collaborative Creation of Power in Multilingual Schools.

• Gibbons, P. (2009). English Learners, Academic Literacy, and Thinking: Learning in the Challenge Zone.

• Graham, S., & Perin, D. (2007). Writing Next: Effective Strategies to Improve Writing of Adolescents in Middle and High Schools. Alliance for Excellent Education.

• Graham, S., et al. (2012). Teaching Elementary School Students to Be Effective Writers: A Practice Guide. Institute of Education Sciences.

• Pearson, P. D., & Gallagher, M. C. (1983). The instruction of reading comprehension.

• Shanahan, T. (2006). The National Reading Panel Report: Practical Advice for Teachers.

• U.S. Department of Education. (2012). Teaching Elementary School Students to Be Effective Writers.

• WIDA (2012). Focus on Differentiation.

In one, students are scribbling eagerly in journals, chasing their own ideas with no set prompts. In another, a teacher projects a model paragraph on the board, and children highlight the topic sentence and supporting details in color-coded hues. These scenes illustrate a long-running debate in writing instruction: free writing vs. structured writing. Should we give students open-ended time to write whatever they want, or provide explicit frameworks and step-by-step guidance? More and more educators are discovering that the best answer is not one or the other, but both. By balancing the freedom of unstructured writing with the clarity of structured instruction, teachers can nurture more confident, skillful writers.

Free Writing in the Classroom: Finding Joy and Voice

Ask many English teachers about their favorite classroom moments, and they’ll describe times when students are simply lost in writing – not for a grade, not following a formula, just writing. This is the essence of free writing: students write continuously on whatever topic they choose, without worrying about grammar, form, or teacher evaluation. The goal is to let thoughts flow uncensored onto the page. It could be daily journaling, a weekly creative writing exercise, or a ten-minute "quick write" to begin class. The content might range from personal stories and poems to rants about the school lunch – anything students want to express.

Why devote class time to free writing?

• It unlocks enthusiasm and engagement.

• It’s low-stakes, often ungraded, and removes fear of mistakes.

• It builds fluency and writing stamina.

• It allows for personal expression and voice.

• It has social-emotional benefits, including reduced anxiety.

Students often come to see their ideas as valuable, and classrooms build a shared culture of creativity. Some teachers celebrate free writes with author shares or quiet applause, reinforcing a message: we are all writers here.

Structured Writing: Scaffolding Students to Success

In contrast, structured writing gives students the tools, strategies, and supports they need to succeed. This includes:

• Sentence starters

• Paragraph frames

• Explicit instruction in text structure

• Outlining strategies and planning tools

A third-grade class in Wisconsin, for example, dissected a model paragraph about Galileo: highlighting the topic sentence, labeling supporting evidence, and analyzing coherence. These lessons help students understand the why and how of good writing.

Decades of research back this up. Steve Graham, a leading voice in writing instruction, notes that explicit teaching of structure and composition strategies is highly effective. Strategies like the R.A.C.E.S. formula or simple templates lighten students' cognitive load, freeing them to focus on content and voice.

Structured writing is especially valuable for:

• Struggling or developing writers

• English language learners

• Teaching academic or content-area writing

Yet, these scaffolds should be flexible and temporary. They are the training wheels, not the final destination.

Beyond the Either/Or: Why Not Both?

Too much free writing without instruction can leave students without the tools they need to improve. Too much structure can stifle creativity and risk formulaic output.

A blended approach works best:

• Begin with a free-write to generate ideas.

• Move to outlining or organizing ideas with a frame.

• Teach a mini-lesson on a structure or technique.

• Apply those tools in a real, creative writing task.

• Share, revise, and reflect.

This allows writing to be both authentic and skillful, joyful and rigorous.

Practical Strategies for Teachers

• Start with a Spark: Daily or weekly free writes build comfort and fluency.

• Teach Mini-Lessons Explicitly: Short, focused instruction helps students develop key skills.

• Use Scaffolds Thoughtfully: Graphic organizers and sentence starters are tools, not crutches.

• Encourage Voice: Allow choice in topic, format, or audience—even in structured pieces.

• Write and Revise in Context: Teach grammar and conventions as part of meaningful writing.

• Celebrate Originality: Highlight moments of creative risk and personal style.

Conclusion

Writing instruction doesn’t need to live in one camp or the other. We can—and should—do both. Free writing gives students the space to find their voice. Structured writing gives them the tools to shape it. With balance, we develop writers who are fluent, empowered, and ready to write for any purpose.

Sources

• Stephanie Hampton, “Why Free-Writing is My Favorite Way to Help Kids Love Writing,” WritingMindset.org

• “5 Benefits of Journaling for Students,” ConnectionsAcademy.com

• Sarah Schwartz, “Young Writers Need Structure to Learn the Craft,” Education Week

• Daniel Stedman, “Scaffolds and Writing Frames Are the Training Wheels of Great Writing,” ScienceofWriting.org

• Lindsay Huddleston, “When Structure Stifles: Lessons from the Science of Reading for Writing,” Writers Who Care

• G. Hillocks, “Synthesis of Research on Teaching Writing,” American Educator

Good writing is good thinking.

Not an output of thinking. Not a decorative flourish after the hard intellectual work is done. Writing is the thinking.

This idea is more than poetic—it’s backed by research, classroom experience, and cognitive science. And at Pressto, it’s the bedrock of how we design our tools, our curriculum alignments, and our entire approach to helping students become sharper, more confident thinkers.

So when we came across Paul Graham’s latest essay (included in full below), we were struck by how clearly he captures this principle:

“Fixing sentences that sound bad seems to help get the ideas right.”

In other words, when you revise a sentence to sound better—to flow more naturally, to read more clearly—you’re not just polishing style. You’re refining substance. You’re discovering what you actually mean.

That’s the magic of writing. And it’s exactly why we believe so deeply in teaching structured writing—not as a constraint, but as a framework for cognition.

The Science Behind Structured Writing

What do we mean by "structured writing"? At Pressto, it means giving students repeatable, transferable text structures—like:

• Cause and Effect

• Compare and Contrast

• Opinion and Evidence

• Problem and Solution

• Description

• Personal Narrative

• Persuasive Writing

• and more…

These structures aren’t just for clarity—they’re tools for thinking. Each one shapes the way students approach a topic, organize their understanding, and communicate it. They help students develop deeper insights, not just better grammar.

And here’s what we see again and again:

When students learn to structure their writing, they learn to structure their thoughts.

That’s the science. That’s the pedagogy. And that’s what Graham’s essay reveals so elegantly through personal experience.

The Writer is the First Reader

Another key insight from Graham’s piece is the idea that writing is a process of self-reading. He writes:

“When I’m working on an essay, I spend far more time reading than writing… replaying the thoughts in them and asking myself, like someone sanding a piece of wood, does anything catch?”

This is exactly what structured writing cultivates in students: metacognition. The ability to reread their work, to spot what “catches,” and to revise not just for style, but for clarity of thought.

Pressto helps scaffold this process. Our platform makes it easy for students to revisit, reshape, and re-see their ideas through guided revisions, sentence starters, and genre-aligned templates.

Our Takeaway

This essay is a reminder of a deep truth:

Writing isn’t just how we show what we know. It’s how we come to know it in the first place.

If we want students to become better thinkers, we must teach them to write—not just freely, but with structure, intention, and iterative reflection.

That’s what Pressto is built to do.
That’s what the Science of Writing has long supported.
And that’s why we’re excited to share Graham’s essay below.

Because every student deserves to know:

Writing well isn’t just a school skill. It’s a thinking skill. A life skill.

Good Writing, by Paul Graham

May 2025

There are two senses in which writing can be good: it can sound good, and the ideas can be right. It can have nice, flowing sentences, and it can draw correct conclusions about important things. It might seem as if these two kinds of good would be unrelated, like the speed of a car and the color it's painted. And yet I don't think they are. I think writing that sounds good is more likely to be right.

So here we have the most exciting kind of idea: one that seems both preposterous and true. Let's examine it. How can this possibly be true?

I know it's true from writing. You can't simultaneously optimize two unrelated things; when you push one far enough, you always end up sacrificing the other. And yet no matter how hard I push, I never find myself having to choose between the sentence that sounds best and the one that expresses an idea best. If I did, it would be frivolous to care how sentences sound. But in practice it feels the opposite of frivolous. Fixing sentences that sound bad seems to help get the ideas right. [1]

By right I mean more than just true. Getting the ideas right means developing them well — drawing the conclusions that matter most, and exploring each one to the right level of detail. So getting the ideas right is not just a matter of saying true things, but saying the right true things.

How could trying to make sentences sound good help you do that? The clue to the answer is something I noticed 30 years ago when I was doing the layout for my first book. Sometimes when you're laying out text you have bad luck. For example, you get a section that runs one line longer than the page. I don't know what ordinary typesetters do in this situation, but what I did was rewrite the section to make it a line shorter. You'd expect such an arbitrary constraint to make the writing worse. But I found, to my surprise, that it never did. I always ended up with something I liked better.

I don't think this was because my writing was especially careless. I think if you pointed to a random paragraph in anything written by anyone and told them to make it slightly shorter (or longer), they'd probably be able to come up with something better.

The best analogy for this phenomenon is when you shake a bin full of different objects. The shakes are arbitrary motions. Or more precisely, they're not calculated to make any two specific objects fit more closely together. And yet repeated shaking inevitably makes the objects discover brilliantly clever ways of packing themselves. Gravity won't let them become less tightly packed, so any change has to be a change for the better. [2]

So it is with writing. If you have to rewrite an awkward passage, you'll never do it in a way that makes it less true. You couldn't bear it, any more than gravity could bear things floating upward. So any change in the ideas has to be a change for the better.

It's obvious once you think about it. Writing that sounds good is more likely to be right for the same reason that a well-shaken bin is more likely to be tightly packed. But there's something else going on as well. Sounding good isn't just a random external force that leaves the ideas in an essay better off. It actually helps you to get them right.

The reason is that it makes the essay easier to read. It's less work to read writing that flows well. How does that help the writer? Because the writer is the first reader. When I'm working on an essay, I spend far more time reading than writing. I'll reread some parts 50 or 100 times, replaying the thoughts in them and asking myself, like someone sanding a piece of wood, does anything catch? Does anything feel wrong? And the easier the essay is to read, the easier it is to notice if something catches.

So yes, the two senses of good writing are connected in at least two ways. Trying to make writing sound good makes you fix mistakes unconsciously, and also helps you fix them consciously; it shakes the bin of ideas, and also makes mistakes easier to see. But now that we've dissolved one layer of preposterousness, I can't resist adding another. Does sounding good do more than just help you get the ideas right? Is writing that sounds good inherently more likely to be right? Crazy as it may seem, I think that's true too.

Obviously there's a connection at the level of individual words. There are lots of words in English that sound like what they mean, often in wonderfully subtle ways. Glitter. Round. Scrape. Prim. Cavalcade. But the sound of good writing depends even more on the way you put words together, and there's a connection at that level too.

When writing sounds good, it's mostly because it has good rhythm. But the rhythm of good writing is not the rhythm of music, or the meter of verse. It's not so regular. If it were, it wouldn't be good, because the rhythm of good writing has to match the ideas in it, and ideas have all kinds of different shapes. Sometimes they're simple and you just state them. But other times they're more subtle, and you need longer, more complicated sentences to tease out all the implications.

An essay is a cleaned up train of thought, in the same way dialogue is cleaned up conversation, and a train of thought has a natural rhythm. So when an essay sounds good, it's not merely because it has a pleasing rhythm, but because it has its natural one. Which means you can use getting the rhythm right as a heuristic for getting the ideas right. And not just in principle: good writers do both simultaneously as a matter of course. Often I don't even distinguish between the two problems. I just think Ugh, this doesn't sound right; what do I mean to say here? [3]

The sound of writing turns out to be more like the shape of a plane than the color of a car. If it looks good, as Kelly Johnson used to say, it will fly well.

This is only true of writing that's used to develop ideas, though. It doesn't apply when you have ideas in some other way and then write about them afterward — for example, if you build something, or conduct an experiment, and then write a paper about it. In such cases the ideas often live more in the work than the writing, so the writing can be bad even though the ideas are good. The writing in textbooks and popular surveys can be bad for the same reason: the author isn't developing the ideas, merely describing other people's. It's only when you're writing to develop ideas that there's such a close connection between the two senses of doing it well.

Ok, many people will be thinking, this seems plausible so far, but what about liars? Is it not notoriously possible for a smooth-tongued liar to write something beautiful that's completely false?

It is, of course. But not without method acting. The way to write something beautiful and false is to begin by making yourself almost believe it. So just like someone writing something beautiful and true, you're presenting a perfectly-formed train of thought. The difference is the point where it attaches to the world. You're saying something that would be true if certain false premises were. If for some bizarre reason the number of jobs in a country were fixed, then immigrants really would be taking our jobs.

So it's not quite right to say that better sounding writing is more likely to be true. Better sounding writing is more likely to be internally consistent. If the writer is honest, internal consistency and truth converge.

But while we can't safely conclude that beautiful writing is true, it's usually safe to conclude the converse: something that seems clumsily written will usually have gotten the ideas wrong too.

Indeed, the two senses of good writing are more like two ends of the same thing. The connection between them is not a rigid one; the goodness of good writing is not a rod but a rope, with multiple overlapping connections running through it. But it's hard to move one end without moving the other. It's hard to be right without sounding right.

Notes

[1] The closest thing to an exception is when you have to go back and insert a new point into the middle of something you've written. This often messes up the flow, sometimes in ways you can never quite repair. But I think the ultimate source of this problem is that ideas are tree-shaped and essays are linear. You inevitably run into difficulties when you try to cram the former into the latter. Frankly it's surprising how much you can get away with. But even so you sometimes have to resort to an endnote.

[2] Obviously if you shake the bin hard enough the objects in it can become less tightly packed. And similarly, if you imposed some huge external constraint on your writing, like using alternating one and two syllable words, the ideas would start to suffer.

[3] Bizarrely enough, this happened in the writing of this very paragraph. An earlier version shared several phrases in common with the preceding paragraph, and the repetition bugged me each time I reread it. When I got annoyed enough to fix it, I discovered that the repetition reflected a problem in the underlying ideas, and I fixed both simultaneously.

Today, writing faces its calculator moment. With AI tools like ChatGPT, students can generate an essay in seconds. Entire assignments can be completed without a single original thought. For many teachers and parents, it feels like the foundation of learning is slipping away.

But the problem isn’t the tool. It’s the way we assess writing.

If we keep treating writing as a finished product—a five-paragraph essay turned in and graded—we’ll keep losing ground. But if we treat writing as a thinking process, something that unfolds and can be made visible, then AI isn’t the end of writing. It’s the wake-up call.

That’s where Pressto comes in.

Pressto is a writing platform built for the AI era. It doesn’t just collect final drafts. It structures the student’s writing process, guiding them block by block. Students reflect, explain, cite, and build—piece by piece. The output isn’t just a polished paragraph. It’s a map of how they got there.

Teachers see the thinking. Students learn how to structure ideas, not just string sentences together. And families gain a way to support writing that goes beyond grammar checks and vague feedback.

In a world where AI can generate the answer, Pressto helps students show their work—and in doing so, learn how to think.

The New Frontier: Writing Instruction in the Age of AI

It’s no exaggeration to say that we’re standing at a crossroads in writing education. AI tools like ChatGPT, Grammarly, and countless others have made it easier than ever for students to produce polished text. But as these tools become more common, they raise critical questions:

• What does it really mean to teach writing in a world where a machine can do it for you?

• How do we ensure students don’t just outsource writing, but still develop the critical thinking and communication skills that only writing can unlock?

• And how do we, as educators, evolve our own practices to meet this moment?

• And here’s something that we think about at Pressto. After the calculator was introduced, math instruction improved. How? We ask students to show their work. What’s “Show your work” for writing? It’s Writing Blocks™ in Pressto.

Challenges and Opportunities in a Post-AI Classroom

Some see AI as a threat to authentic learning. Others see it as a tool that—if used thoughtfully—can enhance instruction and engage students in new ways. The truth is, it’s both.

• The Challenge: Left unchecked, AI can become a shortcut that bypasses the difficult (but essential) work of organizing thoughts, constructing arguments, and finding one’s voice.

• The Opportunity: AI can also serve as a powerful scaffold—providing models, suggesting structures, and freeing up mental space so students can focus on higher-order thinking.

This isn’t the first time technology has disrupted the writing classroom. Spellcheckers once raised eyebrows. Word processors revolutionized the drafting process. The difference now is that AI can generate entire essays, stories, and reports in seconds. Our job isn’t to reject these tools but to help students use them wisely and ethically.

3 Research-Backed Strategies for Teaching Writing in a Post-AI World

1. Refocus on Idea Generation, Not Just Output
   Teach students that writing is first and foremost about thinking. Before they reach for AI tools, have them brainstorm, discuss, and map out their ideas. Encourage writing as a process of discovery, not just production.

2. Make the Process Visible
   Use tools like Pressto to help students understand the structure of good writing—thesis statements, supporting arguments, evidence, and conclusions. When students know what a well-constructed argument looks like, they’re better equipped to critique AI-generated content rather than passively accept it.

3. Promote Ethical Use of AI Tools
   Bring AI directly into the classroom. Show students how to analyze what AI produces:

   • Where is it strong?

   • Where does it fall flat?

   • How can they improve or refine it?
     This moves students from consumers of content to critical editors and thinkers.

Conclusion: Writing is a Human Act

At its core, writing remains a uniquely human endeavor. It’s how we clarify our thoughts, persuade others, and tell the stories that matter. No machine can replicate the lived experiences, emotions, and insights that real writers bring to the page.

AI may change how we write, but it will never replace why we write. And as educators, that’s the most important lesson we can pass on to our students.