
Last of two parts
WRITING in the classroom is making thinking visible. It matters because it turns assessment into observation. When students write outside supervision, the process is hidden: The teacher sees the final product but not the thinking path. Writing in class — carefully designed — changes that.
In the age of widespread AI use by students, the teacher should consider a “controlled composition” model that is not punitive but developmental. Students might receive a prompt tied to a text they studied recently. They could also compile a short pool of notes they prepared ahead of time (or a limited set of sources provided in class). A teacher can also prepare a structured writing task with clear criteria: claim, evidence, reasoning and counter-argument.
The point is not to prevent research or creativity. It is to ensure students can produce arguments that they can explain. After writing, students can do a quick oral defense: “Why did you choose that quote?” or “What does your second paragraph prove?” This makes critical thinking auditable. And the students — with their phones and tablets inside their bags to prevent distraction — learn from their peers, as well.
Some schools around the world have used similar methods for centuries. What comes to mind are the tradition of dissertation writing in France, for example, or the historically rigorous rhetorical practices in parts of the Mediterranean and Central Europe. Today, the modern adaptation is to combine time-bound writing with reflective discussion, so that students learn to value the process, not just correctness.
A good practice example in a term-paper writing or history class: students might write a comparative mini-essay by hand during a single lesson. They are allowed to use their class notes but not external tools. The teacher collects the drafts and asks students to circle their thesis statement and underline the sentence where their evidence is interpreted. Students then share one paragraph orally, focusing on reasoning rather than style.
This kind of practice reduces reliance on online content because it removes the temptation and the time window for outsourcing. More importantly, it trains students to think before they write, and to write with evidence and documentation.
Memory, precision and intellectual confidence
Oral recitation is often dismissed as memorization for its own sake. Yet, when done thoughtfully, recitation builds skills essential for critical thinking. It hones accuracy, fluency and the ability to speak in a structured form.
Recitation can serve multiple educational purposes. One is that it deepens language mastery, which happens when the students internalize grammar patterns and rhetorical structure. Giving a definition forces precision, leading to conceptual clarity.
Moreover, it fosters textual discipline. Reciting a paragraph encourages close attention to authorial wording, and impresses on students the fact of careful and deliberate word choice or diction. In recitation, students also learn to present ideas without hiding behind citations or formatting.
Where can a teacher source materials for short recitation exercises in class? These can come from a philosophical argument or an age-appropriate legal or constitutional passage. The opening lines of a poem or a key passage from a novel is also good, as well as a scientific explanation that students have understood. My Ateneo professor Emmanuel Torres made us read “The Lives of a Cell,” the wonderful book of essays on science by Dr. Lewis Thomas.
Then recitation becomes inquiry rather than parroting. After a student recites a section, the teacher asks: “What claim is being made? What evidence supports it? What would contradict it?” Students are not rewarded for volume; they are rewarded for reasoning.
Some European educational traditions still incorporate recitation, especially in language learning and religious or civic instruction contexts. The broader lesson is to treat oral work as a counterpart to writing, not a relic. When students can recite their ideas, they are more likely to write with coherence and less likely to hide behind vague paraphrase.
Globally, recitation remains strong in many educational cultures. In parts of Asia and the Middle East, students often memorize culturally and academically significant texts. Where this is coupled with discussion and meaning-making — as it often is — recitation can support deep learning rather than shallow repetition.
Building depth without screens
“Non‑analogue learning” does not mean anti-technology. It means ensuring that education does not default to screens for every cognitive task. Screens are excellent for some activities — visualization, feedback and accessibility tools — but they are not always best for sustained reasoning.
Non‑analogue practices can include reading printed texts with margin questions or reading handwritten concept maps. It can also include physical annotation and note-taking, as well as paper-based drafting and revision. An old reliable like board work where reasoning is built step by step can also be used. Another is group discussions without phones, where ideas must be carried by speech and listening.
A class in literature can have students debate themes using their own textual references from printed copies. The teacher can require that each claim be followed by a short, spoken explanation tied to a specific passage. This technique slows down interpretation and encourages genuine reading.
The central concern behind these proposals is not that students use technology. It is that writing becomes detached from thinking. AI tools and online sources can help with grammar correction, translation, brainstorming or summarization. But they also allow students to produce fluent text without understanding. When writing is outsourced, students may show impressive style, while missing conceptual foundations.
The remedy is not blanket prohibition alone. Rather, it is structuring learning so that the most important cognitive work happens locally in the classroom. Writing in class demonstrates understanding, while handwriting encourages careful reasoning and reduces copy-paste speed. Recitation verifies comprehension in the student’s own voice, while non‑analogue tasks strengthen memory and interpretation.
Crucially, these practices also prepare students for responsible AI use. When students can construct arguments themselves, they can critique AI outputs, detect hallucinations and recognize when a suggestion is ungrounded. Trust thus becomes earned, not assumed.
Across Europe, we already see promising elements. More schools now have structured writing lessons with in-class drafting and teacher feedback cycles. There is also reading-based composition, where essays must cite specific passages. Oral examinations are done to valuate understanding beyond written formatting. More humanities curricula now emphasize argumentation and rhetorical structure.
Globally, strong practices include a training in the rhetorical traditions, e.g., classical education in various forms that use memorization to build argument skills. Note-taking and manual drafting routines are used to keep students accountable for the reasoning steps. Recitation to discussion serves as a bridge, where memorized content becomes the starting point for analysis. The point is that assessment and instruction align: Students are asked to demonstrate thinking, not simply produce polished text.
When students can write what they understand, speak what they can defend, and learn with their hands and voices — not only their screens — critical thinking grows naturally. The next generation deserves more than fluent paragraphs. They deserve education that produces independence: the ability to ask better questions, evaluate evidence, build arguments and learn without relying on borrowed intelligence.
Danton Remoto is the author of “How to Read and Write Better,” available at Central Books., Shopee and Lazada.

