An Online Class Can Run Itself. But Should It?

Online courses have become remarkably sophisticated.

A well-designed course can guide students from one week to the next, deliver instructional materials, administer assessments, calculate grades, and remind students when assignments are due. With today’s learning management systems, much of what once required ongoing instructor involvement can now happen automatically.

In many respects, that is exactly what good course design should accomplish. Technology can create an organized, accessible, and efficient learning environment.

But after more than two decades of teaching online students and working with online faculty, I believe these advances raise an important question:

My answer comes from years of experience and a belief that has shaped my approach to online education: A course can function efficiently without meaningful instructor involvement, but that does not mean students are experiencing meaningful teaching.

There is a difference between managing an online classroom and establishing a genuine presence within it.

An instructor can log into a course regularly, post announcements, answer questions, participate in required discussions, and grade assignments on time. These activities are important professional responsibilities. They help maintain an organized learning environment and ensure that students receive the information and support they need.

But completing these activities does not automatically create a connection with students.

Instructor presence cannot be manufactured through a checklist of required behaviors.

Students can recognize when an instructor is simply completing tasks. They can also recognize when someone is genuinely interested in their learning, attentive to their concerns, and willing to help them work through challenges.

The distinction is authenticity.

Authentic instructor presence begins with a sincere interest in the people we teach. It means recognizing that behind every name on a classroom roster is an individual with goals, responsibilities, uncertainties, and circumstances that may affect their educational experience.

It means responding to a student because we want to help them understand, not simply because an institutional policy requires a response within a specified number of hours.

It means reading a discussion contribution with genuine curiosity about what the student is thinking, rather than searching for something to acknowledge before moving to the next post.

And it means approaching assignment feedback as an opportunity to help someone develop, rather than merely explaining why points were deducted.

These differences may appear subtle, but they influence the relationship students develop with their instructor.

Over time, students learn whether an instructor is accessible, responsive, patient, and attentive. They discover whether they can ask questions without feeling uncomfortable, acknowledge uncertainty without embarrassment, and trust that their concerns will be taken seriously.

That trust is not established by a learning management system. It develops through repeated, meaningful human interactions.

When I began teaching online, I had to learn how to translate the human connection of a physical classroom into an environment where students could not see me standing in front of them.

In a traditional classroom, students experience an instructor’s presence through conversation, facial expressions, tone of voice, and countless informal interactions. Online, those opportunities must often be created deliberately through written communication, discussion participation, feedback, and individual conversations.

I learned that simply being active in the classroom was not enough. Students needed to experience me as a real person who was interested in their progress and willing to help them succeed.

Developing that presence took time, practice, reflection, and feedback from students.

As I became more intentional about how I communicated, I noticed that students were more willing to ask questions, participate in discussions, and engage with the feedback they received. They began to recognize that our interactions were not simply transactions required to complete a course.

We were developing an instructional relationship.

I believe professional maturity strengthens an instructor’s ability to establish that relationship. Experience can help us become more attentive listeners, more thoughtful communicators, and more aware of the different ways students experience an online classroom.

But an instructor who does not have decades of experience can begin to develop an authentic presence if they have a genuine interest in students and a willingness to support their learning and well-being.

An experienced instructor can lack authentic presence, just as a new instructor can demonstrate it.

The difference is not necessarily how long someone has been teaching. It is the sincerity and purpose they bring to the responsibility.

And authenticity does not mean instructors must become personally involved in every aspect of their students’ lives or remain available around the clock. Professional boundaries are essential. Genuine care is demonstrated through consistent attention, thoughtful communication, appropriate support, and respect for students as individuals.

As technology continues to evolve, I believe this human dimension of online education deserves even greater attention.

We should welcome systems that simplify administrative work, improve course organization, and make learning resources more accessible. Those advances can create more opportunities for instructors to concentrate on the work that matters most.

But we should never confuse an efficiently managed course with an authentic instructional relationship.

The most meaningful feedback I have received throughout my career has rarely concerned the sophistication of a learning management system. Students remembered whether I responded, whether I helped them understand, and whether they felt comfortable reaching out when they needed guidance.

They remembered the connection.

And that is the lesson I continue to carry forward: