Perspective | Hey Alexa, can you teach empathy?

I have a vivid memory from my first year of teaching. A 4-year-old boy, frustrated that a wooden block would not balance, turned to his friend and said, “Here, you hold it.” Together, they solved the problem. Their faces lit up with a shared triumph. That moment of collaboration was a tiny, perfect lesson in trust, communication, and joint problem solving.

Now, in my 24th year in early childhood education, it feels different. Children born during the COVID-19 pandemic are entering kindergarten with a unique set of challenges. Many spent their earliest years in social isolation, with limited opportunities for face-to-face interaction, group play, or even routine outings. As a result, some may struggle with basic social-emotional skills like sharing, turn-taking, or reading nonverbal cues. These children often had more exposure to screens than peers in previous generations, sometimes relying on devices for entertainment, comfort, and even companionship. 

This fall, I conducted an observation in which a little girl, let us call her Erin, approached a smart speaker in the corner of our room. She demanded, “Play ‘Piggle Wiggle.'” When it did not respond instantly, she repeated her command, louder and with a sharp tone. “Play ‘Piggle Wiggle’!” She did not turn to the child next to her for help. She did not sigh and try a different song. She interacted with the technology the only way she knew how, with the impatience of someone used to a world that answers on command. In that moment, I saw not just a child, but the echo of a year spent in isolation, where her most reliable playmate was a device.

I have never been more concerned, or more hopeful, about a tool in our children’s lives. Artificial intelligence is here. It is woven into the fabric of their world. But for our youngest learners, children from infancy to five, the way we use it is critical. Used improperly, it can deepen the social isolation our post-COVID children are already experiencing. Used wisely, it can be a scaffold for learning.

The isolation pitfall: When AI replaces a friend

The core of social emotional development is what experts call “serve and return.” This is the back and forth dance of human interaction. A baby smiles, you smile back. A toddler points at a bird, you say, “Look at that.” This is how children learn empathy, patience, and that their actions affect others. This learning explodes in preschool. The messy negotiation over a toy truck and the shared giggle when a tower of blocks falls are not distractions from learning. They are the curriculum for becoming a well-adjusted person.

AI cannot participate in this curriculum. A smart speaker does not care if Erin uses a “please” or a demanding tone. It has no feelings to hurt. As a 2023 report from the World Health Organization on AI in health emphasizes, the “human in the loop” is critical for ethical and effective outcomes. This concept applies directly to child development. The one-sided, command-response dynamic of AI teaches a dangerous lesson. It teaches that the world is a one-way street. You command, and it obeys. This is the opposite of the mutual respect and cooperation we try to foster.

For children who missed crucial years of peer engagement, relying too heavily on AI can cement their isolation. A 2022 study in the journal JAMA Pediatrics confirmed what I see in the classroom. Higher screen time during the pandemic was associated with higher levels of behavioral problems and “difficulty with self-regulation.”

As AI becomes more pervasive, we risk replacing passive screens with interactive ones. These are even harder to pull away from, and they further impede the practice of essential social skills. I see more children who are content to play alone with a tablet. They struggle to read the nonverbal cues of a friend who is sad. They do not know how to resolve a simple disagreement. They are not antisocial. They are under-practiced.

The supporting role: How AI can be a tool, not a replacement

This does not mean we should ban AI. That is neither practical nor productive. The key is to shift our mindset. We must see AI not as a digital babysitter, but as a new set of blocks or a particularly engaging picture book. Its value comes not from its own intelligence, but from how we use it to connect with our children.

The U.S. Department of Education’s Office of Educational Technology, in its 2023 report, “Artificial Intelligence and the Future of Teaching and Learning,” explicitly calls for a “human-centered” approach. They stress that AI should be used to enhance, not replace, human interaction. This is the golden rule for early childhood.

Here is what that can look like in practice.

Spark curiosity instead of just answering it. Instead of letting a child ask a voice assistant endless “why” questions alone, ask it with them. Say, “Alexa, how do plants drink water?” Then, turn the answer into a real world activity. “The AI said plants use their roots. Let us pour a little water on this plant and watch what happens.” The AI provided a fact, but you provided the shared, wonder-filled experience that builds memory and connection.

Build stories together. Use an AI story generator to create the beginning of a silly story. For example, “Once upon a time, there was a dinosaur who was afraid of heights.” Then, have your child and their friends act out what happens next. The AI provides the creative prompt, but the children provide the collaboration. They negotiate roles, saying, “I want to be the dinosaur,” and express the emotion of acting out “being brave.”

Make the invisible visible. There are wonderful AI powered apps that can show a child the anatomy of a frog or the planets in our solar system in 3D. This can be magical. But the magic is multiplied when a caregiver is there to ask, “What does that remind you of? Look at those big back legs for jumping; can you jump like a frog?” You are the bridge between the digital information and the child’s physical and emotional world.

The path forward: What I wish every parent and policymaker knew

If I had five minutes with a policymaker, I would share that the goal is not to fear technology, but to fiercely protect what is irreplaceable. We need to do several things:

First, we must fund parent education, not just classroom technology. Help parents understand that their conversation is more valuable than any algorithm. Simple, public-facing messages can empower parents to trust their own ability to teach and connect.

Second, we must champion play-based learning in our pre-K and kindergarten standards. After COVID, this is nonnegotiable. Children learn social skills through play, not academic drills. They need time and space for the messy, beautiful work of building friendships.

Third, we must support early childhood educators in integrating technology thoughtfully. We need training on how to use AI as a creative tool in a group setting. It should not be just an individual pacifier. We need to share best practices for turning an AI-generated story into a collaborative puppet show.

The little girl at the smart speaker eventually learned to say, “Please.” But the real learning happened when I sat down with her and said, “Erin, let us ask it together. My turn. ‘Please play a song we can all dance to.’ Now your turn.” The technology provided the song, but we provided the connection. And in a world where both exist, our job is to make sure connection always leads the dance.