“The forest was shrinking, but the trees kept voting for the axe, for the axe was clever and convinced the trees that because its handle was made of wood, it was one of them.”
There is no more fitting metaphor for what is happening in the court reporting profession today.
We are the forest. We are the trees. Skilled, living, breathing guardians of the legal record.
And yet many among us—court reporters, firm owners, students, associations—have been persuaded to accept, accommodate, normalize, and even advocate for technologies and business models designed to replace us. The axe is not subtle. But it is familiar. It speaks our language. It presents itself with a wooden handle made to feel like kinship.
“AI is here to support you.”
“Digital reporting is just another tool in the toolbox.”
“Automatic speech recognition is getting so good—don’t you want to be part of the future?”
The axe smiles warmly while it sharpens itself on the stump.
The Handle Looks Like Us — But It Isn’t Us
What is the handle made of?
Former steno reporters who left the field to push digital recording as a “career alternative.”
Associations who sign sponsorship checks from tech vendors in exchange for silence.
Schools that reduce steno programs to part-time electives while launching digital training pathways instead.
Agencies run by businessmen who never sat in a courtroom a day in their lives but understand that replacing human skill with cheaper labor means bigger margins.
They speak as though they are still trees.
They reassure us that they understand the forest.
They insist they have our best interests in mind.
But they do not grow roots.
And they do not provide shade.
How the Axe Persuades the Trees
The story of how displacement happens is not new. Look at any labor force targeted by automation: manufacturing workers, newspaper editors, travel agents, taxi drivers. The squeeze is slow at first, framed as modernization, innovation, efficiency.
The messaging is familiar:
- This will help fill shortages.
- This will give you more flexibility.
- This will reduce costs and keep the system operating.
But in every example, the result is the same:
The workforce shrinks, wages fall, quality declines, and the profession is hollowed out.
Court reporting is no different. The push toward digital and AI is not about serving justice, maintaining accuracy, or supporting stenographers. It’s about creating a cheaper product to expand profit margins and control the market.
To accomplish this, the axe must persuade the trees to participate in their own downfall.
The Trees Are Not Helpless — But They Are Divided
This is the part we don’t like to say aloud:
The greatest threat to stenography has never been digital reporting.
It has never been AI.
It has never been tech companies.
It has been reporter complacency.
Our profession has endured because of skill and integrity, yes—but also because we operated for decades under the assumption that we were irreplaceable.
We forgot that irreplaceable things are always the first things someone tries to replace.
And now?
Instead of acting collectively and strategically, we have splintered:
- Some reporters believe “it won’t affect me.”
- Some students are being told they’ll never reach speed, so they settle for digital paths instead.
- Some firm owners cooperate with digital expansion, hoping to preserve their contracts.
Meanwhile, the forest thins.
Quality Is Our Root System — But Roots Only Matter If We Protect Them
It is objectively true—and provably so—that stenographic reporters produce the most accurate and reliable court record. Attorneys know it. Judges know it. Experts know it. Entire appellate systems depend on it.
But quality alone never saved a profession.
Quality must be defended.
Loudly. Publicly. Relentlessly.
In legislative arenas, in legal ethics discourse, in public perception, and in industry regulation.
When digital recording fails (and we all know how often it fails), who pays the price?
The attorney.
The litigant.
The minor whose testimony is lost.
The wrongfully convicted whose appeal hinges on missing context.
The victim whose voice was swallowed by a microphone glitch.
Accuracy is not just a professional value—it is a matter of due process.
If we do not make this case everywhere, we hand the narrative to the axe.
How the Forest Grows Back
The story does not have to end in clear-cut silence.
But it will end that way if we continue acting like isolated trees rather than a living ecosystem.
Revival requires three things:
1. Reporter-to-Reporter Alignment
We cannot afford infighting, territorialism, ego battles over who is “more real-time” or “more elite” or “more certified.”
Every stenographer in this profession—captioners, officials, freelancers, depo reporters, students—is part of the same forest.
If one sector falls, the rest burn with it.
2. Direct Education of the Legal Community
Stop assuming attorneys understand the difference.
Stop assuming judges are informed.
Stop assuming agencies will tell the truth.
We must tell them:
- The legal ethics implications.
- The evidentiary risks.
- The appellate consequences.
- The confidentiality vulnerabilities.
- The real human cost of an inaccurate record.
When attorneys understand what is at stake, they choose steno every time.
3. A United Public Message
Not defensive.
Not apologetic.
Not begging for validation.
But firm:
We protect the integrity of the record.
We are trained specialists in capturing the spoken word with accuracy no machine can replicate.
We are the standard.
And we are not optional.
The Moral of the Story
The axe will always try to convince the forest that they are the same.
The difference is simple:
The trees exist to preserve life.
The axe exists to end it.
The future of the court reporting profession will not be decided by technology.
It will be decided by whether the trees remember who they are.
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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