An Open Letter to the ASU+GSV Summit Committee: Who Does Your North Star Truly Guide?
Every spring, the ASU+GSV Summit brings together some of the brightest minds in education, technology, and venture capital. The event hums with optimism—keynotes about “transforming lives,” panels on “democratizing access,” and promises to “reimagine learning for all.” But as I walked through the polished halls of this year’s conference, a question lingered: Who, exactly, is “all”?
The Summit’s stated mission—to create “a world where everyone has equal access to the future”—is undeniably noble. Yet, behind the grand stages and million-dollar deals, a troubling pattern emerges. The conversations, partnerships, and innovations celebrated here often orbit the interests of those who already hold power: investors chasing returns, entrepreneurs scaling profit-driven platforms, and institutions prioritizing prestige over inclusion.
This isn’t a critique of ambition. It’s a call to realign your North Star. Let’s talk about why.
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The Disconnect Between Rhetoric and Reality
ASU+GSV’s programming emphasizes “edtech for good,” but the guest list tells a different story. A scan of attendees reveals venture capitalists, corporate executives, and Ivy League representatives dominating the room. Missing? The voices of underfunded public school teachers, rural students without broadband access, and communities where “innovation” often means fighting to keep schools open.
Consider the startups showcased in the Summit’s “pitch competitions.” Many focus on AI-driven tutoring apps, VR classrooms, or credentialing tools—products designed for audiences who can afford them. Meanwhile, 30% of U.S. school districts lack basic infrastructure for high-speed internet, and globally, 260 million children remain entirely out of school. Are we solving yesterday’s problems for tomorrow’s privileged few?
This isn’t just about representation; it’s about priorities. When the metrics of success—funding rounds, user growth, market share—are defined by Silicon Valley playbooks, equity becomes a buzzword rather than a blueprint.
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The Myth of the “Tech Fix”
Edtech has undeniable potential. Adaptive learning platforms can personalize instruction. Data analytics can identify at-risk students. But technology alone cannot dismantle systemic inequities. In fact, when deployed without context, it risks widening gaps.
For example, AI-powered tools often inherit biases from their training data, reinforcing stereotypes in grading or career guidance. Algorithmic “solutions” may also strip education of its human element—the mentorship, cultural nuance, and empathy that marginalized learners rely on. At ASU+GSV, however, discussions about these pitfalls are drowned out by applause for shiny new tools.
Worse, the Summit’s investor-driven agenda incentivizes quick wins over sustainable change. A founder who secures $10 million to gamify SAT prep will command more attention than a teacher advocating for trauma-informed curricula in Title I schools. Until the Summit elevates both perspectives, its North Star will keep guiding capital toward convenience, not justice.
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Who’s Missing From the Table?
True progress requires proximity to the problems. Yet, the Summit’s barriers—costly tickets, exclusive networking events, and a focus on “scaling”—systematically exclude those closest to educational inequity.
Take Maria, a counselor at a high-poverty high school in Phoenix. She’s spent a decade helping students navigate homelessness, food insecurity, and understaffed classrooms. Her insights on resilience and resourcefulness could revolutionize how edtech approaches “student engagement.” But Maria isn’t here. The Summit’s $2,000 entry fee exceeds her monthly salary.
Similarly, Indigenous educators preserving native languages, refugee advocates designing low-tech learning kits, and disability activists pushing for universal design rarely make the agenda. Their absence sends a message: Their expertise isn’t “innovative” enough.
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A Path Forward: Recentering Humanity
The ASU+GSV Summit could be a catalyst for transformative change—if it chooses to redefine what “success” looks like. Here’s how:
1. Amplify Grassroots Voices
Reserve 30% of speaking slots and pitch opportunities for educators, students, and community leaders from underserved regions. Offer scholarships and free access to those who can’t afford registration.
2. Measure Impact, Not Just Revenue
Create awards for initiatives that prioritize outcomes like reduced dropout rates, increased teacher retention, or access in conflict zones—not just user acquisition.
3. Foster Uncomfortable Conversations
Host sessions on edtech’s ethical dilemmas: data privacy in K-12 apps, the gig-ification of adjunct professors, or the environmental cost of device-driven learning.
4. Invest in “Unsexy” Solutions
Spotlight innovations addressing foundational issues: menstrual equity for girls’ education, mental health supports, or partnerships with local governments to rebuild crumbling schools.
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Final Thoughts: Who Are We Serving?
The ASU+GSV Summit’s North Star shouldn’t be a marketing slogan. It should be a compass—one that points toward the learners who’ve been left in the dark.
Ask yourself: When a child in a refugee camp logs into a “free” learning app, does it respect their language, culture, and unstable internet connection? When a rural school adopts an AI tutor, does it address the lack of qualified teachers—or merely mask the problem?
Education isn’t a product. It’s a right. It’s time to design a future where the metrics of progress align with the needs of the many, not the returns of the few. The ASU+GSV community has the resources, influence, and vision to lead this shift. The question is: Will it?
Sincerely,
A Believer in Education’s Promise
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