Saving the Profession Isn’t a Runway Walk, It’s a Battlefield

For decades, stenographic court reporters have been the invisible backbone of the justice system—quietly capturing every word in trials, hearings, depositions, and arbitrations. Yet while the public imagines a tidy, orderly courtroom, those of us in the trenches know the truth: saving this profession is not a polished runway walk where everyone claps politely as we glide down the aisle in fashionable shoes. No, it’s a battlefield. And in this fight, our reputations, our livelihoods, and the very integrity of the record are at stake.

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The Illusion of Glamour

Too many within our own ranks treat this fight as if it were about appearances—posting polished photos on social media, worrying more about how they look at the deposition table than what is happening to our profession behind closed doors. But a glossy picture doesn’t preserve due process. A designer handbag won’t prevent agencies from undercutting rates, lobbying legislatures to pass damaging bills, or pushing ASR and digital recording as “equivalents.”

That mentality—the idea that keeping up appearances and staying polite will somehow protect us—is dangerous. Because while some are curating their image, others are strategically dismantling the very foundation of stenography.

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When Criticism Becomes a Weapon

Not everyone applauds when uncomfortable truths are exposed. In fact, the louder we speak, the more resistance we encounter. When I raised concerns about conflicts of interest, backroom partnerships, and industry leaders protecting revenue streams instead of members, the response wasn’t thoughtful debate—it was personal attacks.

When uncomfortable truths are raised, the response is often not reasoned debate but deflection. Instead of addressing facts, critics sometimes resort to labeling or character attacks—words like “obsessed” or harsher terms meant to stigmatize. Such rhetoric does not engage with the issues; it merely seeks to discredit those who dare to expose them.

That tactic is telling. When people cannot counter the substance of an argument, they often resort to smearing the person who dared to make it.

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Why Politeness Alone Won’t Work

Politeness has its place, but it has never saved a profession under siege. Playing nice while companies like For The Record install digital recording systems in courtrooms—at the request of judges and judicial councils—doesn’t stop the erosion of jobs.

Whispering about withheld copy sales, stolen orders, agencies pocketing derivative product revenue, or stagnating page rates doesn’t restore income. When transcript copies that once paid reporters a 70/30 split are now closer to 50/50—or worse—silence only ensures the erosion continues. Staying silent when legislators are fed false talking points about “shortages” doesn’t protect the record.

The battlefield requires confrontation. Not reckless attacks, but precise, fact-based truth-telling that cannot be ignored. The moment we accept that criticism—even unfair or cruel criticism—comes with the territory, we begin to fight from a position of strength.

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The Battlefield Mentality

A battlefield requires strategy. It requires acknowledging that the opposition is real, organized, and relentless. Digital recording firms are not “just trying something new.” They are spending millions on lobbyists, PR campaigns, and partnerships designed to replace stenographers. State legislatures are not passing bills like AB 711 or SB 662 in a vacuum—they are being fed talking points by those who want to control transcripts and commodify the record.

If you think you can waltz through this profession as if it’s a fashion show, you will be blindsided. The battlefield requires armor, not heels. It requires us to stand shoulder to shoulder, not turn our backs because the truth makes us uncomfortable.

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Honesty Is Our Weapon

The single most powerful weapon stenographers have is the truth. Our notes don’t lie. Our transcripts are certified. Our record is uncontroverted. That is the value we bring to the justice system. And yet, paradoxically, too many reporters are afraid to speak their own truth about what’s happening to the profession.

Why? Fear. Fear of retaliation. Fear of losing work. Fear of being labeled “difficult.” That fear has been weaponized against us. It’s why agencies continue to overstep. It’s why associations sometimes prioritize revenue over advocacy. It’s why individuals who raise red flags get targeted, instead of supported.

But silence is not neutral. Silence is surrender.

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Turning Accusations Into Resolve

When critics accuse us of being “obsessed” for exposing conflicts of interest, they reveal more about themselves than about us. They want a quiet profession, one that doesn’t question decisions made behind closed doors. They want stenographers who walk the runway politely and avoid the mud of confrontation.

But obsession with truth is not a weakness—it is survival. In a battlefield, obsession with accuracy, transparency, and integrity is the only thing that keeps the line from breaking.

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Power Circles and False Leadership

One of the most dangerous dynamics in our profession is the existence of entrenched power circles. Certain individuals and associations present themselves as protectors of stenography, yet their decisions and alliances have steered us toward the very crisis we now face. These are not leaders of vision; they are guardians of the status quo.

During their presidencies or board roles, some have held reckless meetings, pursued questionable alliances, and funneled member money toward lobbyists without meaningful results. Even worse, agency owners have been allowed to self-deal—using member dollars and association platforms to push legislation that benefits agencies at the expense of reporters. A prime example was the move to add agencies to the Certified Reporters Board registration system, with a “reporter in charge” provision. The original intent, we were told, was to give the CRB authority to hold agencies—especially out-of-state firms—accountable when they broke California laws, such as exceeding gift-giving limits. But instead of protecting reporters, this provision legitimized agencies within the regulatory framework and elevated their standing above individual license-holders. By being formally recognized and “on the list,” agencies gained a seat at the table that was never meant for them.

The original intent, we were told, was to give the CRB authority to hold agencies—especially out-of-state firms—accountable when they broke California laws, such as exceeding gift-giving limits. But instead of protecting reporters, this provision legitimized agencies within the regulatory framework and elevated their standing above individual license-holders. By being formally recognized and “on the list,” agencies gained a seat at the table that was never meant for them.

What followed was not accountability, but opportunity for exploitation. Agencies could designate a single “reporter in charge” to check a compliance box, while continuing business practices that suppressed reporter pay, diverted copy sales, and controlled transcript distribution. This blurred the line between professional licensure and business interests—weakening the independence of reporters and giving agencies new leverage to shape the rules of the game.

Separately, decisions around a widely attended town hall on July 21, 2018 helped give traction to a misreading of CCP §2093(a)—the so-called “notary loophole”—by treating a notary’s oath as a substitute for a CSR’s authority to take testimony and certify the record. The result was confusion and reporter-free depositions gaining legitimacy. When concerns were raised afterward, responsibility was deflected rather than owned, and accountability gave way to blame-shifting. Finger-pointing replaces responsibility, and those who raise legitimate concerns are smeared, sidelined, or painted as “troublemakers.”

This cycle has repeated for years. Figures are propped up at conventions as “experts” and given microphones to reinforce their own narratives, while grassroots voices are silenced. Leadership that is motivated by ego or image rather than service is not leadership at all—it is one of the primary reasons we find ourselves on this battlefield today.

If stenography is to survive, these power circles must be shaken. Real leadership means putting the reporter and the record above revenue and reputation. It means protecting the frontline, not cozying up to the very forces dismantling it.

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Case Study – Agencies on Court Forms and Erosion of Accountability

Recently, the L.A. Superior Court unveiled a revised “Order Appointing Court Approved Reporter as Official Reporter Pro Tempore” form that now requires agency information, even when the reporter is already on the court’s approved list.

This seemingly small procedural tweak carries outsized implications. By asking for agency details on a form directly tied to the responsibility for the record, the court is implicitly granting agencies a role they were never intended to hold. It blurs the line between the reporter’s legal duty to maintain accuracy, certification, timeliness, and the agency’s purely administrative role (scheduling, billing, copy work).

That blurring is dangerous. It sows confusion over who is accountable when issues arise. An attorney or party might route a question to the agency rather than the reporter, delaying response or causing miscommunication. In appellate review, the chain of custody and responsibility could be contested—did the reporter certify? Did the agency play a role? Courts are not built for that ambiguity.

If a court is genuinely worried about accessibility or communication, the solution lies in improving how reporters are reached: direct phone or email entries in approved-reporter lists, up-to-date directories, or a court-managed messaging system—not folding agencies into official legal forms.

This case proves how the battlefield extends beyond salary and contracts: the battleground now includes procedural legitimacy and the definition of who legally “owns” the record. and contracts. The battleground now includes procedural legitimacy and the definition of who legally “owns” the record.

What Real Leadership Looks Like

Leadership in this battlefield is not about being liked. It’s about being willing to take the hits so that the truth has a voice. That doesn’t mean everyone must become a public crusader. But it does mean everyone must recognize the reality of the fight and contribute.

Some may educate attorneys about the risks of ASR transcripts. Others may refuse jobs with firms that substitute digital recorders. Still others may share articles, testimonies, or firsthand experiences that chip away at the false narratives. Leadership isn’t always on a stage—it’s in the daily choices that either strengthen or weaken our collective defense.

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A Call to Courage

Saving the profession means choosing courage over comfort. It means recognizing that while you may want to avoid conflict, the conflict is already here. Agencies have declared it. Legislators are debating it. Tech companies are capitalizing on it. Pretending the battlefield isn’t real doesn’t make it disappear.

When you’re standing in a war zone, the person adjusting their outfit while the enemy advances is not helping. The one who digs in, who calls out warnings, who rallies the troops—whether popular or not—that’s the one who gives the rest of us a fighting chance.

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The Battlefield Is Worth It

This fight is exhausting. It takes a toll. But it’s worth it. Because what’s at stake isn’t just a profession—it’s the integrity of the judicial record. It’s the rights of litigants who deserve accuracy, impartiality, and protection from manipulated transcripts. It’s the future of students entering our schools with hope. It’s the livelihood of thousands of skilled professionals who have dedicated their lives to a craft that cannot be replicated by machines.

So no, saving stenography isn’t a runway walk. It’s a battlefield. And the only way we win is if more of us accept that reality, strap on our armor, and fight together.

StenoImperium
Court Reporting. Unfiltered. Unafraid.

Disclaimer

“This article includes analysis and commentary based on observed events, public records, and legal statutes.”

The content of this post is intended for informational and discussion purposes only. All opinions expressed herein are those of the author and are based on publicly available information, industry standards, and good-faith concerns about nonprofit governance and professional ethics. No part of this article is intended to defame, accuse, or misrepresent any individual or organization. Readers are encouraged to verify facts independently and to engage constructively in dialogue about leadership, transparency, and accountability in the court reporting profession.

• The content on this blog represents the personal opinions, observations, and commentary of the author. It is intended for editorial and journalistic purposes and is protected under the First Amendment of the United States Constitution.
• Nothing here constitutes legal advice. Readers are encouraged to review the facts and form independent conclusions.

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