AI Summer Camps Spark Debate Over Value and Parental Anxiety

During the just-concluded summer vacation, AI summer camps became the hottest trend in the study tour market. According to statistics, the domestic study tour market is expected to exceed RMB 240 billion in full-year 2026. Among these, data from Ctrip shows that AI-related study tour orders this summer increased by 370% compared to the same period last year.

The pricing of AI summer camps and AI innovation programs on the market varies widely—some cost thousands of yuan per week, while others exceed ten thousand yuan in less than five days. Promotional materials frequently feature slogans like “Start a company in 6 days” or “Become a product manager at age 8.” But when summer ends and parents begin to tally their expenses, what they actually received for their money is far from consistent.

We found five parents, one of whom is also a camp operator. Their bills vary:

Some parents spent 12,800 yuan to enroll their child in an AI bootcamp in Shanghai, only to see the contract for the first time on the first day of class—after the child had already arrived in Shanghai. Others paid over ten thousand yuan for a study tour in Hong Kong, only to find their child’s understanding of AI remained virtually unchanged afterward. Even those whose husbands are programmers couldn’t avoid code courses that were “just a new coat of paint.” Some spent 5,000 yuan to take their child on a visit to Alibaba’s headquarters, only to sit through three days of sales pitches and a course priced at 39,800 yuan labeled as a “ten-year program.”

When “not letting your child fall behind at the AI starting line” becomes a business, what are parents really buying with their money—education, or a placebo for anxiety? Here are their own stories.

Li Yian | After the college entrance exam, my 18-year-old child joined the AI Creation Camp

After my child finishes the college entrance exam, I want them to learn something new before starting university.

He had previously dabbled in AI-generated images and used tools to edit videos, but had never studied them systematically. At the time, I came across an AI creation bootcamp in Shanghai on social media, which promoted AI visual creation with a focus on “systematic progression” and “practical implementation,” showcasing commercial images, short character films, and complete creative workflows. Since my child was also eager to attend, I paid 12,800 yuan and booked round-trip flights and a hotel.

Before signing up, the other party never sent me the electronic contract. It wasn’t until the first day of class, when my child had already arrived in Shanghai, that I saw the paper contract for the first time on-site and was sent a photo of it. By then, the person had already arrived, and the flights and hotel were already booked, making it very difficult to back out even if I discovered that the terms differed from what I understood.

The content from the past two days was relatively basic. On the first morning, there were introductions, and the instructor briefly walked everyone through the AI tool interface; in the afternoon, students practiced independently, and the class ended early. The second day focused mainly on case studies and creative approaches, but the instructor did not demonstrate the entire process step by step or break down key actions in detail. While the child understood what the instructor was explaining, they still struggled to figure out how to implement a complete solution on their own.

Initially, I thought the course was designed to cater to absolute beginners. By day three, I began to have doubts. The instructor spent considerable time photographing students interacting and creating images for social media and platform posts; meanwhile, students discussed ideas and experimented with generating images on their own. The photos parents received appeared busy and engaging, but the actual time spent under the instructor’s direct guidance was minimal. On day four, a model and makeup artist were brought in for an off-site shoot, with students taking turns—resulting in significantly more waiting time than actual shooting time. While the child found the experience novel, they couldn’t clearly articulate what specific skills they had learned.

The period that most closely matched our enrollment expectations was the final two days. The teaching assistants began covering workflows and practical methods, with content that was more specific and closer to what the child originally wanted to learn. However, by the time the course reached this stage, the six-day camp was nearly over. Looking back, the child primarily engaged with AI visual creation: exploring tools and examples, developing concepts and generating images, participating in outdoor shoots, and then learning workflows.

If the child had no prior exposure to AI tools, the previous content might have served as an introduction. But since he already had some foundational knowledge and we were aiming for an advanced level, we expected a project-based progression leading to mastery of a reusable methodology. The child did gain some insights—he observed a professional filming setup and found the workflow section practical. However, I still feel that six days of this program is not worth over ten thousand yuan.

I feel a bit guilty because, before signing up, I only read the course description and demonstration examples, and didn’t clarify exactly what we’d be doing each day—though even if I had asked, it wouldn’t have guaranteed the actual schedule. Back then, seeing words like “AI,” “systematic learning,” and “hands-on practice,” I assumed the higher the price, the deeper the content and the more detailed the instructor’s guidance would be. After taking the course, I realized that everything from the instructor demonstrating step by step, to students exploring on their own, to everyone taking turns trying things out, could all be called “hands-on practice.”

Several friends found out I enrolled my child in an AI camp and asked me if it’s worth it. I still believe AI is worth learning, but most camps exploit people’s awareness that “AI is a trend” to make a quick profit. So I always advise them to first review the contract and detailed schedule before deciding to enroll. In addition to asking “What will be taught?”, they should also ask how many days the main instructor will actually teach, how much hands-on time is included each day, and whether students will be able to complete a complete project independently by the end.

Zhang Yun | Shanghai, parent of a fifth-grade child

My child is currently in fifth grade and has always been interested in technology.

Normally, he actively follows tech-related content and enjoys trying out new tools. So I thought, instead of enrolling him in ordinary hobby classes, why not introduce him to AI early on and let him see what this technology—potentially impactful on many future careers—is really like.

However, when choosing a course, I did have some concerns. In the past two years, many AI educational products have emerged; some appear very sophisticated, but after looking into them, I found that certain offerings simply involve playing online lectures and introducing a few concepts, without giving children any real hands-on experience. To find a reliable course, I compared several products from major providers and ultimately enrolled my child in two summer camps.

First, there was the Fudan Youth AI One-Day Study Camp in Shanghai, which I attended with my child. Before signing up, I was concerned that such a course might just be basic introductory content. But by the end of the day, the experience exceeded my expectations.

The class avoided complex technical concepts and instead used examples that children could easily understand. For instance, the teacher used vivid analogies to explain the basic logic of machine learning, helping children grasp how AI learns to recognize patterns through data. The lesson also included an engaging debate activity, where children were divided into groups to prepare arguments on topics like “Will AI become a universal helper or a potential rival?” before engaging in free-form debate. Many of the children offered insightful perspectives, clearly deepening their interest in AI through playful interaction.

This experience made me realize that AI study programs can indeed provide children with valuable takeaways beyond the classroom. So, when I later saw more structured, longer-term courses, I eagerly continued without hesitation.

So I spent another ten thousand yuan to enroll my child in a 5-day AI study camp in Hong Kong. This time, I had higher expectations, hoping he would be exposed to a more structured curriculum and engage in hands-on AI activities.

This time, he went on his own. When he came back, he was in good spirits and shared many experiences from Hong Kong. But when I asked what he had learned about AI during the week, I realized his understanding hadn’t changed much from before the trip. Most of the five-day itinerary was spent on campus tours, activities, and lectures, leaving very little time for actual AI learning. His main takeaways were simply having “tried out” a few AI tools—like knowing how to ask questions or use AI to generate images—but when I asked him why AI could create those outputs or how reliable the results were, he couldn’t answer.

This is quite different from what I expected when I signed up for the AI study program. I originally thought my child would work on a specific project—from generating an idea and designing a solution to using AI to complete a final product—gaining a true understanding of how AI solves problems. Instead, he merely learned how to use a few tools.

I’ve only just realized that many current AI courses are still stuck at the level of “teaching children how to use tools.” But using tools alone is essentially no different from playing with LEGO or video games—children find it novel and enjoyable, but they learn very little in return. This is also a common misconception among parents. Naturally, parents want their children to be exposed to AI early, fearing they might miss out on new competitive opportunities. However, merely teaching children how to use a few AI tools is no different in essence from learning computer operations in the past—it’s just a more trendy concept.

If I take a course like this again, I’ll prioritize two things: whether there are real-world projects to work on, and whether the instructor can guide my child to think critically. If the practical component isn’t strong, it’s better to guide my child at home gradually than spend over ten thousand on a camp.

Zhou Lan | Parent of an 8th-grade student in Hangzhou

Our family isn’t the type to experience “AI anxiety.” My husband is a programmer who works at an internet company, while I have virtually no technical knowledge.

Last summer vacation, his father’s company partnered with a local training institution to host a three-day AI interest camp as an employee benefit—we only paid a few hundred yuan for materials. The camp included introductory AI lessons and a tour of a major tech company’s campus; the instructors were genuine tech professionals, and our child came home buzzing with new terminology. Since the experience was so positive, this summer we’d like to enroll him in a longer-term program where he can learn and explore AI more deeply.

This year, I ended up falling into a trap.

I came across this "AI Junior CEO" program through a share in a parent group. The advertisement claimed, "Learn to start an AI company in 5 days," and the promotional materials were filled with photos of children in business attire presenting pitches and holding company signs. Since my child would be on vacation anyway and I thought it would be good to learn something, I signed up. The program lasts six days, and with day attendance, the total cost came to around 6,000 yuan—slightly more than other programs I inquired about.

Before signing up, the sales representative sent me a course outline that sounded impressive, and although I didn’t fully understand it, it seemed legitimate, so I made the payment. The course advertised a student-to-instructor ratio of 1:3, but in reality, it was closer to 1:5 or 1:6.

The past couple of days were an "Interest Development Class," where parents could attend with their children, and I went. On the first day, the teacher spent most of the time presenting slides; the so-called AI hands-on session simply involved teaching kids to chat with AI—asking questions and having it generate drawings. These activities could be understood by children in just ten minutes using a tablet at home. Starting on the second day, they began teaching code, showing kids how to use AI to generate code. My child’s father felt it was essentially the same as those少儿Python summer classes from years ago—just swapping “write code yourself” for “have AI write code,” while still covering the same basic concepts.

For the middle three days, children join the camp independently and are divided into several groups, each forming a "startup." They formally elect a CEO, choose a company name, and then "develop a product"—essentially writing simple code, creating graphics, designing presentations, and generating frontend web pages using AI.

The final day is the results showcase.

The child enjoys himself every day, but when I ask what he learned, he struggles to come up with anything new. Out of ten points, I’d give it a four—mainly docked for value for money. At over a thousand per day, it’s essentially an after-school care program with an AI theme. The pros are safety, convenience, and the child’s happiness; the cons are the huge gap between marketing claims and actual results.

Looking back, whether it’s worth it depends on the situation. Programs backed by major companies or universities, or those like last year’s where businesses were directly involved, are relatively reliable and reasonably priced—children truly learn something. But now, every summer, all kinds of AI camps pop up, with prices rising each year, making it truly difficult for ordinary parents to tell them apart.

Some say the AI summer camp fees are just a "anxiety tax" paid by parents. I think it’s half and half—our family isn’t anxious at all; we simply didn’t want our child to be idle during summer break, so we viewed this expense as enrolling them in an extracurricular activity. But if you’re expecting a six-day camp to give your child a head start on the race, then spending several thousand yuan would indeed be a waste.

Summer | Beijing | Parents of elementary and middle school children

I am a journalist and a mother of two children—my eldest is 14, and my youngest is 9.

This summer vacation, I originally wanted to introduce them to AI. I came across an AI summer camp organized by an institution in Hangzhou, with an advertisement that sounded very appealing: “Visit Alibaba’s headquarters,” “Build your own robot,” and “Experience brain-computer interfaces.” Since I was about to travel to Shanghai, and Hangzhou was nearby, with a seemingly reasonable price of 2,980 yuan for one adult and one child, plus an additional 1,980 yuan for each extra child, including accommodation and meals for two nights, I didn’t do much background research and signed up on a whim.

After trying it out, I realized this is a marketing scheme selling courses under the guise of AI.

On the first day of the camp, the atmosphere felt off. There was no syllabus provided, no formal introduction of the instructors, and instead, they immediately launched into a “clap for appreciation” segment. The host asked everyone to clap for “parents who don’t hit their children,” then began recounting the anxious narrative that “China’s education system must be ahead of the curve.” I noticed that the instructors’ credentials were vague and difficult to verify online.

所谓的“Visit to Alibaba’s Headquarters” actually involved everyone being seated in a classroom to attend a lecture on Alibaba Group’s history and entrepreneurial stories, after which the children assembled a miniature mechanical dog—priced at around 20 yuan, no longer than 10 centimeters—with poor craftsmanship and some damaged parts, within a multi-purpose hall on the campus.

During the afternoon AI programming session, children used simple AI tools to generate small programs, mostly basic platformer games or product showcase pages, essentially completing templated tasks by inputting prompts. The subsequent "pitch" session, due to the large number of participants (approximately 100 people divided into 10 groups), became superficial, with only one representative from each group allowed to present on stage, leaving most children without an opportunity to express themselves.

The "course" designed for parents is the true focus of this event.

After establishing psychological expectations through educational anxiety on the first day, the second day transitions into the sales phase. An organization called "XX Youth Business School" enters the scene, promoting a long-term course priced at 39,800 yuan, claiming that over the next ten years, it will provide seven-day camp activities during every winter and summer vacation to help children "discover their talents and receive personalized education." The sales pitch follows a typical live-streaming promotion model, offering value-added services such as a "Gobi Desert excursion." However, it is not clearly disclosed on-site that the 39,800 yuan is merely an enrollment fee, and additional charges apply for each subsequent camp attendance. If families fully commit to the ten-year program, their total investment could reach hundreds of thousands or even over a million yuan.

There is a clearly designed sales atmosphere on site. I observed that “parents” rushed to the stage first during the sales pitch to express their intent to sign up and pay, but later did not complete any actual procedures.

Regarding Alibaba’s headquarters, the event actually took place at Alibaba’s open campus, with no official partnership with Alibaba Group. Regarding the faculty setup, the promised “age-based instruction” was not delivered. The participants at the event ranged in age from four or five to fourteen or fifteen years old, and were grouped together using the same curriculum. Before registering, I explicitly asked whether my two children (five years apart) would be taught in separate groups and was assured that “groups would be organized by age,” but this was not implemented.

Ultimately, I view this 5,000 yuan as a “lesson in social awareness,” allowing the two children to observe firsthand the structure and atmosphere of such commercial marketing tactics and understand the importance of information discernment.

If friends around me ask whether they should enroll in a similar AI summer camp, I would advise them to verify three things first: First, whether the instructors’ credentials are verifiable; second, whether there is a sales component to the course; and third, what the specific specifications are for the AI tools and hands-on outcomes—requesting unedited photos of actual results, not just promotional images showing “children smiling happily,” since a child’s happiness may stem merely from the social setting of being with peers, not from actual knowledge acquisition.

Yu Yingjun | Beijing Corporate Training

I’m a mom of a 10-year-old girl and work as a corporate executive coach and leadership trainer. My friend and I are currently preparing to launch an innovative, project-based learning (PBL) school. This summer, we organized a four-week summer camp as a trial program for the school.

There is a teacher at the camp who previously worked at IBM and later joined Xiaomi to work on AI, giving him early exposure to these technologies. He has two children of his own and has run AI summer camps before, so he understands well how to interact with kids. We incorporated AI into the curriculum, expecting it to be the part children would find most interesting.

The teacher didn’t continuously explain concepts; instead, she asked the children to provide prompts for AI to generate music or images. To my surprise, very few responded, and several children even fell asleep.

I realize that the impact of AI on adults and children is different. Adults have written articles, created presentations, and researched materials—they know how time-consuming these tasks are—and are amazed when AI completes them in seconds. Children, however, have never experienced these challenges; to them, the entire world is new, so an AI-generated image may be no more fascinating than discovering a strange animal in the mountains.

We quickly changed our approach.

We divided the children into two groups, gave them a budget, and asked them to visit stores in a nearby village, make purchases, and complete a market research task. The desire to shop and have control over their small budget served as motivation. When they encountered difficulties with how to conduct surveys, how to ask questions, or how to organize information, they turned to AI for help.

AI is essentially a tool; when the goal is sufficiently attractive and complex enough to be challenging, and there’s no suitable person nearby to turn to, AI becomes an excellent aid.

Like my daughter, who yesterday wanted to develop an ice cream flavor—she rushed to finish her homework at school, invited classmates over to our house, first checked Xiaohongshu, and then... Doubao Co-creating, the two of them spent the whole evening tinkering in the kitchen. There’s no need to deliberately guide her to use AI. If she comes home to a pile of extra assignments and has to specifically attend an AI class, she’ll likely procrastinate until bedtime.

This summer camp accommodates eight to nine children per week, with a teacher-to-student ratio close to 1:1 and a weekly fee of 5,580 yuan. The teaching staff includes a Ph.D. in Traditional Chinese Medicine, a Ph.D. from Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications, a foreign instructor from Armenia, and an art teacher who graduated from a London art school and has experience in curation. Children build houses, maintain the pool ecosystem, make cheese, and design meals—with AI also assisting in the process.

Our upcoming school follows the same approach: start by doing real things, encounter problems, and then seek out the knowledge needed to solve them.

I’m not overly anxious about the so-called “AI starting line,” nor do I insist that my daughter must go to college. I simply hope she grows up healthy and happy, retaining her curiosity and passion for learning and exploration.

I believe that, in many cases, pushing children hard is really about alleviating parents’ own anxiety—we often try to write the answers for our kids in advance. Over the years of conducting executive training, I’ve met many people who got every “multiple-choice question” of life right: attending a top university, joining a prestigious company, getting married, having children. Yet in the later stages of life, they have no idea what to do next.

What will truly matter in the future may not be teaching children to master a tool earlier, but rather ensuring that when they encounter problems without standard answers, they still know what they want to do and have the ability to find the answers.

All images in the header and throughout the article are sourced from Pexels. At the interviewee's request, the names Li Yian, Zhang Yun, Zhou Lan, and Xia Tian are pseudonyms.

This article is from the WeChat official account "Dingjiao" (ID: dingjiaoone), authored by Jin Yufan, Lei Jing, Wang Hanxing, Wang Lu, and Chen Dan.