Investigating ESL University Teachers’ Views on the role of ChatGPT in English Teaching and Learning

In the modern classroom, the relationship between a teacher and a student has long been defined by a simple exchange: knowledge flows from the expert to the learner, guided by human patience and experience. For decades, technology has entered this space as a helper, offering new ways to display information or practice skills. But recently, a new kind of digital assistant has arrived that does more than just store facts; it can write, reason, and converse in a way that feels startlingly human. This tool, known as a large language model, can generate essays, correct grammar, and answer complex questions in seconds. While this capability promises to revolutionize how languages are taught, it also raises a fundamental question for educators: if a machine can do the thinking for a student, what happens to the student's own ability to think? This is the central tension facing teachers around the world, particularly in regions where English is taught as a second language. They must decide whether to embrace this powerful new partner or to guard against its potential to undermine the very skills they are trying to build.

A team of researchers in Pakistan set out to understand how university teachers in that country are navigating this shift. They focused on the perspectives of fifteen experienced instructors who teach English to non-native speakers. These teachers, drawn from various departments including humanities and sciences, were interviewed to uncover their genuine feelings about using a specific, widely available artificial intelligence tool in their daily work. The researchers did not simply ask if the teachers liked the technology; they asked how it changed their lesson planning, how it affected their students' learning, and what fears kept them awake at night. The goal was to map the landscape of this new reality, identifying both the bright spots of opportunity and the dark corners of risk.

The teachers who spoke with the researchers described a tool that, when used correctly, acts as a powerful engine for professional growth. Many found that the technology could generate lesson plans, create quizzes, and suggest classroom activities in a fraction of the time it took them to do these tasks manually. One teacher noted that the tool served as a vast database, offering fresh ideas and helping them stay current with new teaching methods. For these educators, the technology was not a replacement for their expertise but a partner that saved them time and energy, allowing them to focus more on the human side of teaching. They saw it as a way to personalize learning, helping students check their grammar, expand their vocabulary, and practice reading at their own pace. In this view, the technology was a bridge, helping students who might otherwise struggle to find a friend or a guide in their learning journey.

However, the same teachers also voiced deep concerns that cut to the heart of education. They worried that students were beginning to rely on the tool too heavily, using it not to learn but to bypass the assignment. There was a palpable fear that if students let the machine write their essays and solve their problems, their own critical thinking and creativity would atrophy. The teachers observed that students were becoming less engaged, skipping the hard mental work of brainstorming and instead accepting whatever the machine produced. This over-reliance, they argued, was creating a gap between the teacher and the student, replacing the emotional connection and mentorship of a human instructor with a cold, mechanical interaction. Some teachers expressed the worry that the tool was not just a helper but a potential usurper, one that could eventually make the human teacher obsolete in the eyes of a student who no longer needed guidance.

Another significant issue raised was the reliability of the information the tool provided. The teachers noted that while the technology was impressive, it was not infallible. It sometimes generated facts that were incorrect or irrelevant, and it lacked the cultural sensitivity to understand the specific context of a Pakistani classroom. One teacher described a situation where the tool suggested activities that were inappropriate for their local culture, highlighting a disconnect between the machine's broad data and the specific needs of the students. This unreliability meant that teachers could not simply trust the output; they had to double-check every fact and every suggestion, adding a layer of vigilance to their work. The consensus was clear: the tool was useful, but it was dangerous if left unchecked.

Despite these challenges, the teachers did not call for a ban on the technology. Instead, they proposed a path forward built on education and adaptation. They suggested that universities and educational authorities should organize workshops and seminars to teach both teachers and students how to use the tool ethically. The idea was to shift the focus from banning the technology to mastering it. Teachers recommended changing the way assignments were given, moving away from take-home essays that could be easily generated by a machine and toward in-class activities where students had to think and write under observation. By doing so, educators could ensure that students were actually learning and not just copying. The teachers believed that the future of English education would inevitably involve artificial intelligence, and the only way to survive and thrive was to evolve alongside it.

The study concluded that the integration of this technology is a double-edged sword, capable of both enhancing and hindering the learning process. The teachers' views painted a picture of a profession in transition, where the role of the educator is shifting from being the sole source of knowledge to being a guide who helps students navigate a sea of automated information. The researchers found that while the potential for personalized learning and professional development was real, it came with the risk of diminishing human creativity and critical thought. The solution, according to the teachers, lay not in rejecting the machine but in teaching people how to use it wisely. They emphasized that the human element of teaching—empathy, cultural understanding, and moral guidance—could never be replicated by a computer, and that this was the one thing that must be protected as the digital age advances.

Ultimately, the paper offers a grounded look at how real educators are grappling with a technological revolution. It suggests that the future of English teaching in Pakistan, and likely elsewhere, will depend on finding a balance. It is a future where teachers use the machine to save time and spark ideas, but where they remain firmly in control of the learning process. The teachers' voices in this study serve as a reminder that while technology can change the tools of education, it cannot replace the fundamental human need for connection, guidance, and the hard work of learning. The path forward requires careful planning, ethical training, and a willingness to adapt, ensuring that the machine serves the student rather than the other way around.