When 'expert' doesn't mean 'educator': What's a professor's value in the era of AI?

Let’s just get this out of the way: ‘expert’ doesn’t automatically mean ‘can actually teach’. I’ve long observed this, but it’s becoming increasingly evident as I grow as a professional.

Why do brilliant experts often give lectures that leave you planning your weekend getaway instead of taking notes?

I recently attended what was supposed to be a high-level series of AI seminars (think AI summer school), only to realize the biggest lesson wasn’t in the AI models, but in the glaring, sometimes comical, gap between deep expertise and the ability to effectively communicate it.

We often assume brilliant researchers make brilliant teachers. Turns out, that myth needs to be dispelled right away.

The “usual” pitfalls of ineffective lecturing/seminar-ing

Throughout my academic journey, I’ve witnessed lectures and seminars across the entire spectrum: from brilliant to bewildering.

In more cases than I wish to admit, I’ve sat through what should have been illuminating sessions, only to find myself utterly lost and zoomed out. The content is typically complex and challenging (which is precisely why you need someone to explain it instead of getting it straight from Google or chatGPT). Yet, the delivery often felt… optional. I remember one lecturer that flipped through 60 slides in 20 minutes, as if the audience was an inconvenience, leaving us dizzy and adrift for the remaining 160 minutes.

So, I’m conveying my frustration here.

@Lecturers, I can spare you the embarrassment of an audience mentally checking out, lost to daydreams of weekend plans or doodling in desperation while checking the clock. Based on my observations, mediocre lecturers follow these rules, perfected by many (unwittingly, I guess) at this recent event. Save yourself: don’t be like this:

• Assumption of omniscience: Assume too much prior knowledge. Why bother explaining foundational concepts or acronyms? Just assume everyone in the room has not only read your entire bibliography but intuitively grasps your niche research like it’s common sense. Clarity is for the uninitiated! In all seriousness, it’s far better to explain the obvious than to rush through slides as if everyone has heard the presentation a 100 times. Including a brief recap and Q&A from previous sessions always helps setting the context and brings momentum.

• The speed-run: No time for clarity, rush through complex formulae and concepts like you’re racing a timer. Comprehension is optional; the goal is to get through all the slides on time after all! Except that rushing through formulas like it’s a race only deepens the fog. Instead, allow some time to digest the key formulae or ideas before moving forward.

• The structure-free presentation: Slides? Just a vague guide. Coherent flow? Overrated. Keep your audience guessing where you’re going, jumping between ten different resources (PDFs, papers, websites, Jupyter notebooks). You’re more likely to keep everyone on track if you outline your talk upfront and signpost transitions.

• The audience is optional: Engaging your audience or, heaven forbid, answering their questions clearly? Distractions. The lecture is for you to talk, not for them to learn. And please, don’t bother repeating questions for everyone to hear. If nobody asks any question and when you ask something nobody is able to answer, assume they know it all but are just shy!

• Lecuter’s interests > course learning: Focus on what you find interesting, rather than what the audience needs to learn or the advertised course topic. They’ll appreciate your passion… eventually. Nothing kills a lecture faster than dismissing the room. Vague course descriptions that overhype and underdeliver only add insult.

These missteps muddle complex ideas, waste everyone’s time, and infuriate eager learners—especially when attendees pay good money for quality. Trust me, it’s awkward for everyone when experts’ delivery falls so flat.

So, beyond a frustrated rant, this is meant to be a call for better standards. Communication and teaching are skills you can hone - don’t let your expertise get lost in translation!

I’ll be tremendously happy and satisfied if you take away from this post some learning of what not to do when you present your expertise.

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The value a professor/lecturer in the age of AI

This leads me to a far more provocative, timely question. We’re transitioning to an era where every piece of information, concept, or formulation is not just a Google search or a Wikipedia page away. We can now get “AI tutors” able to break down complex topics in tailored, interactive ways with private conversations, allowing new ways of learning that outpace raw search results and are somewhat similar to hiring a private expert as a tutor.

And yet, no AI can match the spark of a human lecturer who turns dry facts into aha moments (at least, not yet!).

Hence, in this context, what exactly is the core irreplaceable value proposition of a human professor, an expert, in this context? Their moat is reduced as human-AI’s interactions get more human-ish!

It is clear to me it needs to go beyond dispensing information and facts. We don’t need a human in the room to regurgitate data (AI does that faster). Lecturers must “earn” their audience’s attention now more than ever, by offering what machines can’t: human connection and insight.

This might be personal, but I believe the real, “irreplaceable” value today lies in their unique ability to:

• Adapt to the audience: Great lecturers digest complex ideas from scattered sources and tailor them to their audience’s needs and depth, whether novices or experts. They cut through jargon like guides in a dense data forest, breaking intimidating concepts into digestible parts.
• Explain with blunt clarity, cutting through jargon like guides in a dense data forest, and breaking intimidating concepts into digestible parts. A skilled lecturer weaves examples, analogies, and cross-disciplinary connections to spark true understanding from theory to practice. One seminar speaker’s excitement about AI’s potential in healthcare had us leaning forward, eager to explore.
• Be passionate and inspire: Most crucially, they bring a genuine enthusiasm for the subject that lights a fire in their audience. Make the audience excited about your research! And once they are excited, you’ll be able to inspire critical thinking, prompting them to question, explore, and even engage with that area themselves.

I still remember a professor lecturing on Bayesian optimization fueled by humor and spontaneous stories. This human spark, fueled by genuine passion inspires and drives you to dive deeper, and elevates the experience beyond mere data transfer. Even if the course is tough! No AI can make your pulse race like that.

Enthusiasm is the game-changer because it taps into our craving for connection and inspiration. In the end, your expertise is only as valuable as your ability to ignite curiosity on it. In an AI age, your human edge is what makes it powerful.

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A matter of wrong incentives

“What you incentivize will happen” — and academia’s priorities prove it.

Effective communication, along with genuine enthusiasm for the topic, is profoundly underrated, often treated as a secondary concern, an afterthought, assumed to magically come with expertise. But they don’t, and it’s a systemic failure.

I strongly believe this is because it’s not incentivized, in the end you can still have a “successful” career in academic research despite not being able to communicate yourself or share your expertise. Universities reward publications and grants, not the ability to inspire a room. And that’s a monumental mistake (hence the terrible lecture(s) almost everyone has ever endured at some point in their education). When did we let this happen? Research != lecturing, so why should a packed CV excuse a lecture that leaves everyone lost?

For me, this recent experience was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. It prompted me to internalize a masterclass in ‘what not to do’ when it’s my turn to present, teach, or lead.

So I’m begging you, who is reading this post, possibly randomly, but who aspires to (one day) present, educate, inspire, or lead: raise your bar relentlessly.

Next time you give a lecture or a presentation on a topic, think critically. Raise your own bar obsessively for clarity, impact, and a contagious passion for your subject.

If you’re not able to communicate effectively and inspire, then what are you truly contributing in the room?