What Ethical College Counseling Actually Looks Like: A Practitioner’s Framework for the Age of AI, Editing, and Admissions Pressure
This piece began as part of a professional conversation about the ethics of college counseling in the age of AI, over-editing, and admissions pressure — and what real support looks like in practice.
The Ethical Question Beneath Every Parent’s Question
When parents come to me for support in the college admissions process, their questions sound practical on the surface:
“How do you help with the essay-writing process?”
“How should we use AI — if at all?”
“Is it okay if we look at their essays and make suggestions?”
“Do colleges expect them to have the ‘right’ activities? Should we be pushing them to do more?”
“Should we push them toward more ‘prestigious’ schools, even if they’re probably not a fit?”
“Should we suggest a different major because it might be easier to get into — even if it’s not what they actually want?”
Beneath these tactical questions lies a deeper, unspoken one:
Whose college search is this — and how much help is too much?
Parents want to do right by their children. They want them to be confident and competitive, to put their best foot forward, and not be disadvantaged because they aren’t doing enough to help. But in today’s admissions landscape, it is incredibly easy to cross ethical lines without even realizing it.
There are consultants who guarantee Ivy League admission or quietly rewrite essays. And there are AI tools that can generate a personal statement in seconds. For many families, the lingering shadow of the Varsity Blues scandal makes even well-intentioned choices feel uncertain: What is ethical — and what is simply normal now?
Yes, there are professional ethics codes — from NACAC, IECA, and the Common Application — and they matter. But families don’t live inside policy statements. They live in the gap between policy and practice, where real-life decisions are messy, ambiguous, and deeply high-stakes for the student they love.
Ethical college counseling isn’t just about staying out of trouble. It’s about doing right by and for the student.
It’s about protecting the student’s college search process — and their ownership of their own story.
It’s about honoring their voice, not replacing it.
It’s about ensuring they don’t arrive on a college campus with a polished application but without the ability to think, write, and advocate for themselves — the very skills needed to survive and thrive once they’re there. Because if a student is carried to the summit — or dropped there by helicopter — they won’t have the muscles or resilience they need to make it on their own — strength they would have developed on the climb.
At every step of this process, there is a human being at the center — a teenager who deserves space to think, struggle, express, and grow.
That is the work worth protecting.
That is the line that matters.
I have a rare perspective: I’ve read applications as an admissions officer, taught students as a professor, supported them as a dean, and watched those same students struggle or thrive based on their preparation for college. Read more about my background.
I’m not just working in this space — I help shape it. At Tufts University, my work as Dean informs academic policy, student success initiatives, and the institutional conversations that define what college readiness really means. In this role, I also create programs designed to give students the kind of transformative experiences that research shows are linked to long-term success — including the Data, Computer Science, and Italian in Pavia, Italy program.
Beyond campus, I’m actively involved in shaping the field through speaking engagements, ethics forums, and national discussions across IECA, NACAC, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and higher education. This isn’t just a dual role — it’s a dual responsibility: ensuring that families receive ethical guidance before college, and ensuring that students are prepared to thrive once they get there.
Ethics in college counseling isn’t optional — it’s foundational.
The Ethics Gap — Where Policies End and Real Life Begins
If you read about ethics in college admissions, you mostly see three kinds of voices.
First, there are the journalists. They shine necessary light on scandals — Varsity Blues, fake athletic recruits, AI cheating, legacy preferences. Their work matters, but it tends to focus on the extremes: the moments when the system breaks in spectacular ways, not the quieter choices families and counselors navigate every day.
Second, there are the policies. Organizations like NACAC, IECA, and the Common Application have developed ethics codes, statements of principles, and guidelines. These set important guardrails: don’t misrepresent, don’t fabricate, don’t promise outcomes you can’t control. They are essential — and I’m grateful they exist.
Third, there are the emerging “AI guidelines.” Many schools and colleges now publish brief statements about plagiarism, originality, and academic integrity — and while some colleges now include AI language in their admissions policies, most offer only general statements like “AI should not replace original work.” Families are still left to interpret what ethical AI use actually looks like in practice.
All of that is valuable. But it still leaves a gap.
What’s missing is a practitioner framework for what ethical support actually looks like in the messy middle where real families live. Policies say what not to do; they don’t show a parent how to sit next to their teenager and talk about an essay without taking over. They don’t tell a counselor how to respond when a student arrives with an AI-generated draft and says, “Can we just tweak this?” They don’t explain how much feedback is enough, or how to help a student strengthen their work without diluting their voice.
What’s also missing is a developmental perspective. Most policies treat ethics as a compliance issue. I see it as a learning issue. When we over-edit, over-engineer, or over-rely on AI, we’re not just risking a violation of rules; we’re interrupting the very process through which students build judgment, resilience, and agency. The admissions process is one of the first big chances a teenager has to wrestle with their own story. If parents, counselors, or AI tools do too much of that wrestling for them, the student loses more than ownership of a few essays — they lose the chance to build the confidence and independence that college will require of them every single day.
And when there’s no shared framework for the gray areas, people start improvising. Counselors react on the fly. Parents try to help and often end up unintentionally helping “too much.” Students learn to polish instead of reflect, to perfect instead of grow. And while some of the loudest voices in the marketplace promise shortcuts, secrets, and guaranteed results, very few offer what actually matters: mentoring that builds confidence, agency, and genuine readiness for college and life beyond it.
The result is not just individual confusion — it’s a slow, quiet erosion of educational integrity. Not because people are breaking rules, but because the rules don’t reflect how students actually write, think, and get help in an era shaped by AI, hyper-competitive admissions, and an expanding marketplace of paid support — from essay editing to test prep to “portfolio-building” experiences that allow students to produce impressive work, but not always the underlying skills they will need later.
That gap between policy and practice is exactly where ethical college counseling has to live. The next section outlines the framework I use — the principles that guide how I support students and families through those gray areas with honesty, humanity, and a focus on long-term growth.
The Lantern Framework: Principles for Ethical College Counseling in the Age of AI
Ethical college counseling isn’t a checklist. It’s not merely a refusal to cross certain lines. It is a philosophy of education and human development — one that values agency over shortcuts, learning over production, and integrity over outcome-driven performance.
The following principles guide my work with students and families. They are not abstract ideals; they are the lived practices I return to every day as a college counselor, former Board of Admissions member, former professor, current dean of academic advising responsible for undergraduate success, and parent — and that my colleague Eliza Yuen and I apply together through Lantern’s team-based model.This is the framework the college counseling industry needs if we are serious about closing the gap between policy and practice in the age of AI.
We support the process. They own the story.
Student Ownership Over Counselor Control
The college application belongs to the student. Not to the parent. Not to the counselor. Not to an AI bot.
That means their ideas, their voice, their perspective, and their growth must remain at the center — even when that takes longer, even when it’s imperfect, even when adults — or AI — could “fix” it faster.
Many parents worry that if their student truly leads the process, the work won’t be strong enough — and that admissions opportunities will be lost as a result. But the real risk is the opposite: when applications sound like they weren’t written by the student, admissions officers struggle to understand who the student really is, what they care about, and — most importantly — whether they would thrive on that campus. As Georgia Tech’s Rick Clark has written in his blog post on college essays, colleges aren’t looking for a manufactured version of a student — they are looking for the student themself. In other words, the very efforts meant to “improve” an application can actually weaken it.
And even the most polished application doesn’t guarantee admission anywhere. There are no guarantees in a holistic system — not with authentic work, and not with work that has been packaged for perfection.
What authenticity does offer is something far more valuable: stronger matches, better outcomes, and a much greater likelihood that a student ends up in a place where they will genuinely flourish. This is the heart of our Deep-Fit™ approach, described in How a Deep-Fit College Search Builds Student Confidence and Agency for a Bright Future. A student who applies authentically is not just more likely to be admitted to a place that fits — they arrive better prepared to succeed once they get there.
When adults or AI take over the thinking, writing, or reflecting, the student loses more than authenticity. They lose the opportunity to grow the very skills that college will demand of them.
Our goal is not just to submit ethical applications — it’s to graduate ethical thinkers.
Coaching, Not Editing
Ethical college counseling isn’t about crafting flawless essays — it’s about helping students grow as thinkers and communicators.
The essay-writing process is not just about the words on a page. It is an exercise in reflection, self-awareness, and meaning-making. Editing is not the work. Thinking is the work.
That means a student’s essay should reflect their own wrestling — their ideas, their insights, their revisions — not the polished output of an adult editing pass. When we rewrite instead of coach, we don’t just cross an ethical line; we interrupt the learning the essay is designed to develop.
Ethical essay coaching means asking better questions, not supplying better sentences:
“What are you really trying to say here?”
“Why does this matter to you?”
“How would you explain this to a friend?”
“Does this sound like you?”
If the final essay sounds like it was written by a seasoned editor instead of a teenager, it is no longer the student’s work — even if it’s beautifully written. And if AI is used to generate polished language without the student doing the thinking behind it, the harm is the same: a loss of voice, a loss of ownership, and a loss of the opportunity to grow into the kind of writer and thinker college requires.
We don’t just caution families about the dangers of outsourcing the student’s work — whether to a well-meaning adult or an AI model — we show them what to do instead. In What ChatGPT Can Teach Us About How to Write a Strong College Application, I wrote a full essay myself, then asked ChatGPT to write the same essay so we could compare them side-by-side. The exercise revealed not only what AI can do, but what it can’t: it can generate language, but it can’t replace human reflection, lived experience, or authentic voice. The article offers a practical way to evaluate AI’s role — by showing families exactly what happens when a chatbot writes an essay, and what gets lost when it does.
And this loss of voice isn’t just an ethical concern — it’s a practical one. Admissions officers are trained to recognize when writing is generic, over-engineered, or AI-like. An essay that reads like AI wrote it is not a strong essay — no matter how it was produced. The most compelling writing is specific, reflective, and unmistakably human.
You should be able to hear only the student’s voice — not the coach’s, not the parent’s, and not an algorithm’s.
The tools are new. The principles aren’t. We help students hold onto both.
AI Should Expand Human Thinking — Not Replace It
If students use AI as a thinking shortcut, they lose the opportunity to wrestle with ideas, to iterate, to question, to revise — the very cognitive habits that college requires and adulthood depends on.
At Lantern, we teach students to use AI the way a good scientist uses technology:
to explore ideas
to generate possibilities
to challenge assumptions
to test and improve their own thinking
—not to avoid doing the thinking in the first place.
That means we don’t simply ask, “What can AI do?” We ask, “What should AI do?”
Because AI can:
summarize a book a student didn’t read
generate a personal statement the student didn’t write
produce a research idea the student didn’t conceive
But when students let AI think for them, they skip the process that leads to insight, resilience, and confidence. They may produce work faster — but they don’t become better thinkers.
That’s why we don’t tell students, “Don’t use AI.” We teach them how to use it well. In my article What ChatGPT Can Teach Us About How to Write a Strong College Application, I walk families through a side-by-side comparison of a human-written essay and an AI-generated one. Seeing the difference makes the point clear: AI can produce fluent language, but it cannot do the thinking, reflecting, or meaning-making a student must do for themselves.
We show students how to use AI as a mirror — not a replacement — for their own ideas. How to use it to refine their thinking, not to outsource it. How to evaluate AI-generated output with discernment and intellectual independence.
Ethical AI use in college applications means that AI supports a student’s thinking — it does not replace it. That means AI may be used to brainstorm, organize ideas, clarify language, or test alternative approaches — as long as the student is the one doing the hard work of reflection, meaning-making, and revision. AI should function like a lab instrument or research assistant: a tool for exploration, not a shortcut or substitution.
Because here is the truth that gets lost in the panic: AI is not the threat. Replacing human thinking is.
I do not fear AI — I fear what happens when students let AI replace struggle, curiosity, reflection, ownership, and the deep work of learning.
And just as importantly:
Colleges don’t want AI-generated thinking, either.
Admissions officers read tens of thousands of applications every year. They can spot writing — and ideas — that don’t sound like a teenager. They are not evaluating the sophistication of language alone. They are evaluating:
curiosity and intellectual engagement
depth of reflection and self-awareness
the ability to make meaning and connect ideas
readiness for college-level thinking, learning, and growth
AI cannot do that work for students. If they overly rely on it, they will arrive on campus unprepared.
Our ethical responsibility is not just to help students submit their best applications — it is to help them build the capacity to think.
AI can accelerate that growth. Or it can erode it.
The difference is not the tool. The difference is how — and why — students use it.
We provide transparent, ethical expert college admissions counseling — always.
Ethical Counseling Requires Transparency — in Process, Pricing, and Promises
Private college counseling operates in a largely unregulated space — which means families often have to make decisions without clear information about process, boundaries, or expectations. Ethical counseling requires clarity — about what we do, how we do it, and what we will not do.
At Lantern, that means transparency in five areas:
1. Process — How We Work and Why
Families deserve to know what happens in a session, what kind of guidance their student will receive, and where the line is between coaching and rewriting. We are explicit about our methods, including how we handle essays, AI, parent involvement, and decision-making.
Every student meeting is followed by a written summary that we send to parents, and families have full access to their student’s Lantern platform account, which organizes all materials, timelines, and next steps. Transparency is built into the process.
2. Pricing — What Families Are Paying For, and What They Are Not
We publish our pricing openly on our website — no hidden tiers, no vague estimates, no pressure-based “call us for a quote” model. You can see our services and fees any time on our Services page. Our pricing reflects deep expertise and high-touch support.
I am deeply aware that access to private counseling is itself an ethical concern. In a system already shaped by inequity, charging for expertise requires responsibility, transparency, and accountability. While I cannot fix the broader system alone, I can ensure that every family who invests in this work receives something far more meaningful than “an advantage”: experienced guidance that protects a student’s voice, development, and long-term success.
And because not every family can or will work with us directly, I invest significant time in sharing what I know freely — through a growing library of articles, tools, and resources on our website and in my newsletter — so that students and parents everywhere can access clear, ethical guidance. For many families, this isn’t a luxury — it’s a safeguard against the very pressures and misinformation that can derail a student’s confidence and well-being.
For families considering whether college counseling is a meaningful investment, we explore this in depth in Deep-Fit College Counseling: An Investment for Life — including how the right support can save time, stress, and even money by improving college fit, decision-making, and long-term success.
To understand how we guide students toward colleges where they will thrive — not just get in — see Deep-Fit: Thrive in College & Beyond — A New Paradigm for the College Search & Application Process.
3. Boundaries — Who is Doing the Work
We articulate exactly who does what: the student leads, we guide, and parents support. All feedback and coaching comes from us, directly and transparently — never from ghostwriters, hidden editors, or outsourced “essay specialists.”
And ethical practice isn’t just about what one counselor can do. At Lantern, we operate as a team — every student benefits from both my and Eliza’s expertise, and when a student needs support outside our core strengths (for example, performing arts auditions), we partner with or refer families to trusted specialists because ethical practice means knowing when a student will be better served by someone with deeper expertise.
4. Outcomes — What We Promise, and What We Refuse to Promise
We will never guarantee admission to any school. We will never imply that success is purchasable. We will never claim “special access” or “inside influence.” What we do guarantee is honest feedback, expert guidance, and a process built for growth.
5. Ethical Practice Through Professional Accountability
Ethical counseling isn’t just about personal values — it’s about professional standards and safeguards. Lantern is a proud member of both the Independent Educational Consultants Association (IECA) and the National Association for College Admission Counseling (NACAC), organizations with published ethics codes that prohibit ghostwriting, guaranteed admissions, or misrepresentation. We view those codes not as limits, but as minimum standards for practice. Membership alone doesn’t guarantee quality — but it does ensure accountability and shared professional standards in a field with few built-in guardrails.
To ensure complete separation between my role at Tufts and my work with high school students, I also maintain a formal conflict-of-interest agreement with the University, drafted by Tufts legal counsel. I do not serve on the Board of Admissions and have no role in undergraduate admission decisions. This protects my students, the university, and external partners from real or perceived conflicts of interest.
People sometimes ask how I balance my dual roles as a dean and an IEC. The truth is, they strengthen each other. My work on campus informs my work with high school students — and my work with families keeps me connected to the realities students bring with them when they arrive. The ethical boundaries are clear, and the educational benefits run both directions.
Deep-Fit begins here — with space to think, reflect, and be authentic.
The Goal Isn’t to Game Admissions — It’s to Prepare Students for College and What Comes After
There is a version of college counseling that treats admissions like a system to hack — a strategic game of optimization, positioning, and loopholes. That mindset isn’t only unethical. It’s profoundly short-sighted.
Because it isn’t just about admission — it’s about admission to a place where a student is prepared to flourish.
That’s why at Lantern, we don’t package students, promise outcomes we can’t control, imply access or influence, or overly edit application materials. We don’t treat college as a prize to be won or a performance to engineer.
Instead, we teach students to build reflective, authentic applications grounded in their own ideas — and in the process, to develop the skills they will rely on far beyond senior year: critical thinking, ownership, self-expression, decision-making, and the ability to articulate who they are and what they value.
And this is not theoretical for us. Because we don’t just help students apply to college — we work with them after they arrive, including those who are thriving and those who are not.
As a dean and former professor, I see what happens when a student arrives not just with a flawless application, but with a hyper-optimized high school career — the right classes, the right activities, the right polish — yet without the ability to think independently, advocate for themselves, or engage deeply with learning. The shine of an over-engineered path fades quickly. What matters is the student underneath.
I’ve worked with high-achieving students who can calculate derivatives in their sleep but freeze when asked, “What do you care about?” — because every moment of their high school experience has been optimized for performance and achievement with little room for reflection.
I once worked with a student who entered college with twelve AP scores of 5 — a transcript that looked flawless on paper. But once the scaffolding of high school was gone, she struggled to manage her work independently. Within three semesters her GPA had fallen below 2.0 and she was required to withdraw for a year. She wasn’t incapable — she was unprepared for independent learning because every step of her high school path had been managed for her. Her application had signaled excellence; her experience revealed fragility. With time, support, and the chance to rebuild foundational skills, she returned and ultimately thrived — but the crisis was preventable.
That’s why ethical counseling is not about producing the most polished application — it’s about ensuring the student who arrives on campus is the same person who was admitted: reflective, capable, curious, and ready to thrive. That is the heart of our Deep-Fit approach.
Gaming the system may produce an acceptance letter. It will not produce a prepared, confident college student.
A Call to Action
Ethics isn’t just about what we won’t do — it’s about what we refuse to interrupt: a student’s growth.
The real ethical line is not simply where a policy draws it — it’s where a student stops learning.
Students should not have to choose between integrity and competitiveness. When they are guided well — when their voice is centered, when thinking is not outsourced, when AI is used as a tool instead of a substitute — they become more compelling, more confident, and more ready for college than any polished shortcut could ever make them.
Ethical counseling means refusing to treat students as products and colleges as prizes.
It means nurturing thinkers, not just applicants.
It means building a process worthy of the young people we say we’re supporting.
I write this not only as an IEC, but as a former Board of Admissions member, a former professor, a dean responsible for undergraduate student success, and a parent. I’ve watched hundreds of students arrive on campus with impressive résumés — only to struggle because they never had the chance to build the skills those résumés implied.
We can do better.
And we have to — because admission is not the finish line. It is just the beginning.
Deep-Fit isn’t about getting students in — it’s about preparing them to flourish once they’re there.
For families:
If you want college guidance rooted in integrity, reflection, and genuine student growth, we’d be honored to support your family. Learn more about our services
For journalists or colleagues:
If you’re writing or thinking about ethics, AI, or the future of admissions, I’d welcome the conversation. We need more practitioner voices in this dialogue. Contact Dr. Jennifer Stephan
