The “Picky Reporter” Problem — and the Silence That Created It

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Lately, a familiar complaint has been echoing across the court-reporting world: that stenographers have become “too picky.” They turn down cases, demand higher rates, and refuse proceedings that don’t meet their preferences. To some agency owners, it looks like arrogance. To many reporters, it’s survival.

The so-called “picky reporter” problem isn’t really about attitude — it’s about economics and communication. A shrinking workforce, decades of rate suppression, and the disappearance of human connection have collided to create a storm of misunderstanding.

The Supply-Demand Imbalance

For decades, the number of certified shorthand reporters has been in steady decline. Thousands have retired, and too few new graduates are entering the field to replace them. The simple law of supply and demand dictates what comes next: when something becomes rare, its value rises.

Reporters who once competed for every assignment are now booked solid weeks in advance. Those who’ve stayed in the profession through years of low margins and long nights are finally setting boundaries — demanding fair compensation, reasonable turnaround times, and honest case descriptions.

That’s not entitlement; it’s market correction.

After decades of rate stagnation, the pendulum is swinging back. Reporters are recalibrating their rates to reflect expertise, certification, and liability. Agencies that built business models around underpaid labor are now struggling to adjust.

The Economics of “No”

When a reporter declines a last-minute hearing or a high-stress technical case at a discounted rate, that’s not pickiness — it’s economics. They’re making choices based on capacity, value, and professional standards.

But because communication between agencies and reporters has deteriorated, these decisions are too often misinterpreted as obstinance. Instead of a conversation — “Can we find a rate or turnaround that works for both sides?” — the silence deepens, and the narrative hardens: reporters are difficult.

In truth, reporters are simply responding to the same forces that drive any market correction. After years of absorbing risk without adequate reward, they’re now pricing themselves according to reality. And for the first time in a long time, they actually can — because demand exceeds supply.

The Feedback Void

The problem isn’t that one side is right and the other is wrong. The problem is that no one’s talking about it constructively.

When misunderstandings happen — whether about turnaround, appearance fees, or case expectations — there’s no feedback mechanism. Agencies don’t coach or clarify; reporters don’t explain or debrief. Each side quietly blacklists the other and moves on.

It’s a self-defeating cycle. Reporters lose trust in agencies that misrepresent jobs or pay inconsistently. Agencies lose faith in reporters who cancel or refuse work. With no accountability loop, both sides repeat the same mistakes, louder each time.

The Vanishing Human Connection

Underneath this economic friction lies an even deeper fracture: the disappearance of the human connection that once bound the profession together.

There was a time when agency owners called reporters personally to explain details, discuss challenges, or simply say thank you. Reporters knew schedulers by name and built years-long relationships based on reliability and mutual respect.

Now, everything happens through impersonal email chains and automated dispatch systems. No calls. No dialogue. No context.

When tone and trust vanish, empathy follows. A request becomes a demand. A rate negotiation becomes an insult. The human buffer that used to soften business friction is gone — and with it, the sense that everyone is working toward the same goal.

Ironically, that loss of personal connection is both the culprit and the potential cure.

Accountability Without Animosity

The way forward isn’t more automation or stricter policies — it’s communication and accountability.

Imagine a system where agencies and reporters engage in transparent feedback after each job. Where expectations are set clearly up front: case type, location, rate, turnaround, realtime or not. Where missed appearances or delays trigger conversation, not retaliation.

Other professions do this effortlessly. Attorneys debrief cases. Doctors review outcomes. In court reporting, however, we’ve replaced mentorship with metrics. The human side of the business — coaching, collaboration, understanding — has been stripped away.

It’s no wonder so many professionals feel unseen, unheard, and undervalued.

Technology Isn’t the Enemy — Disconnection Is

Technology can be a powerful tool if it’s designed to connect, not replace. Platforms that automate scheduling or handle billing aren’t inherently bad; they just can’t substitute for trust.

The next evolution of court-reporting infrastructure must prioritize transparency and human engagement. That means digital ecosystems that show full job details, allow real-time messaging, and include mutual rating systems for fairness and professionalism.

When data is clear and communication is open, suspicion fades. And when both sides are accountable, the economics start to make sense again.

Restoring Balance and Trust

The “picky reporter” label will fade once the industry accepts that boundaries are not bad for business — they’re the foundation of it. Clear boundaries create predictability. Predictability creates trust. Trust creates efficiency.

Agencies that respect those dynamics will retain the best reporters. Reporters who communicate clearly will attract the best agencies. And the market will stabilize not through force or guilt, but through dialogue.

That dialogue starts with something simple: talking to each other again.

Pick Up the Phone

The cure to this professional malaise isn’t in another software rollout or policy memo. It’s in something as old-fashioned as a phone call.

Call your reporters. Call your schedulers. Have a five-minute conversation about what went right, what went wrong, and how to make the next job smoother. That simple human act can do more to heal this profession than any new rule or platform.

Court reporters have spent their careers listening — really listening — to others. It’s time we start listening to each other again.

The Final Word

The “picky reporter” problem isn’t a symptom of decline; it’s a sign that the market, after decades of imbalance, is trying to right itself. What we’re witnessing is a profession rediscovering its worth — and struggling to communicate through the noise.

If we can restore open conversation, mutual accountability, and human connection, court reporting won’t just survive this transition. It will come out stronger, fairer, and finally aligned with the value it delivers to justice every single day.

Because the real enemy isn’t pickiness. It’s silence.

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.
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Published by stenoimperium

We exist to facilitate the fortifying of the Stenography profession and ensure its survival for the next hundred years! As court reporters, we've handed the relationship role with our customers, or attorneys, over to the agencies and their sales reps.  This has done a lot of damage to our industry.  It has taken away our ability to have those relationships, the ability to be humanized and valued.  We've become a replaceable commodity. Merely saying we are the “Gold Standard” tells them that we’re the best, but there are alternatives.  Who we are though, is much, much more powerful than that!  We are the Responsible Charge.  “Responsible Charge” means responsibility for the direction, control, supervision, and possession of stenographic & transcription work, as the case may be, to assure that the work product has been critically examined and evaluated for compliance with appropriate professional standards by a licensee in the profession, and by sealing and signing the documents, the professional stenographer accepts responsibility for the stenographic or transcription work, respectively, represented by the documents and that applicable stenographic and professional standards have been met.  This designation exists in other professions, such as engineering, land surveying, public water works, landscape architects, land surveyors, fire preventionists, geologists, architects, and more.  In the case of professional engineers, the engineering association adopted a Responsible Charge position statement that says, “A professional engineer is only considered to be in responsible charge of an engineering work if the professional engineer makes independent professional decisions regarding the engineering work without requiring instruction or approval from another authority and maintains control over those decisions by the professional engineer’s physical presence at the location where the engineering work is performed or by electronic communication with the individual executing the engineering work.” If we were to adopt a Responsible Charge position statement for our industry, we could start with a draft that looks something like this: "A professional court reporter, or stenographer, is only considered to be in responsible charge of court reporting work if the professional court reporter makes independent professional decisions regarding the court reporting work without requiring instruction or approval from another authority and maintains control over those decisions by the professional court reporter’s physical presence at the location where the court reporting work is performed or by electronic communication with the individual executing the court reporting work.” Shared purpose The cornerstone of a strategic narrative is a shared purpose. This shared purpose is the outcome that you and your customer are working toward together. It’s more than a value proposition of what you deliver to them. Or a mission of what you do for the world. It’s the journey that you are on with them. By having a shared purpose, the relationship shifts from consumer to co-creator. In court reporting, our mission is “to bring justice to every litigant in the U.S.”  That purpose is shared by all involved in the litigation process – judges, attorneys, everyone.  Who we are is the Responsible Charge.  How we do that is by Protecting the Record.

2 thoughts on “The “Picky Reporter” Problem — and the Silence That Created It”

  1. Excellent article. As a stenographer since 1980, I can attest to the fact that when reporter-owned firms started disappearing, the trust and understanding went with it. I feel the large firms are not interested in getting to know reporters and forming relationships. With myself, nearly every large firm I have worked with has been a problem to work with.

    Beth Douglas RPR, CSR-8019

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    1. Thank you so much, Beth — that perspective means a lot coming from someone with your experience. You’re absolutely right. When reporter-owned firms began to disappear, so did much of the mentorship, personal accountability, and relationship-based trust that made this profession work. The corporate model may have scaled the business, but it stripped out the human element that built our reputation for excellence.

      It’s voices like yours — people who remember what that connection looked like — that can help us rebuild it in a modern way. If we can combine today’s technology with yesterday’s professionalism and care, we might finally get back to the kind of industry we all loved working in.

      Thank you for reading and for everything you’ve contributed to stenography since 1980.

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