Filevine does not belong in the court reporting agency space. It was not born there, it was not built for it, and its long-term incentive structure is, in my view, fundamentally incompatible with the survival of the stenographic profession.
Filevine is a software company. Its core product is a legal tech platform increasingly tethered to automated speech recognition and AI-generated record creation. Its expansion into court reporting should not automatically be mistaken for a benevolent commitment to “preserving standards.” In my assessment, it more closely resembles a strategic maneuver to place itself inside the very ecosystem its technology is designed to automate and streamline — and potentially control over time.
This is not a personal attack. It is a structural critique grounded in observable industry patterns and economic incentives.
Filevine is rolling out aggressively in every state that does not yet prohibit or strictly regulate digital or AI-based reporting — while positioning itself to adapt in more regulated states should legislative environments change. The company has raised significant venture capital funding, and venture capital does not exist to preserve heritage professions. It exists to scale, dominate, and displace. When millions are invested, the return is not typically obtained through professional stewardship. It is obtained through market capture.
That market capture requires data. And one of the richest datasets in this profession is the transcript.
By positioning itself as both the technology provider and the “agency,” Filevine gains proximity to enormous volumes of certified legal records, procedural nuance, workflow data, speaker patterns, formatting conventions, and reporter decision-making logic. This proximity creates the potential for such records to inform increasingly sophisticated ASR and AI systems in the future — even if no such use is occurring today.
The court reporter risks becoming both labor and data source.
The Fallacy of the “Human-First” Promise
The recent Stenonymous article by Lindsay Stoker, published as a guest post and framed as a defense of professional integrity, attempts to reassure reporters that Filevine is different — that it is a software platform merely “supporting” human reporters rather than replacing them.
That premise, in my view, collapses under basic economic logic.
A system that profits more when humans are removed will eventually evaluate whether those humans remain economically essential.
No corporation with venture obligations and scalability mandates has long-term incentive to maintain an expensive human layer indefinitely once automation is perceived as “good enough” by the buyer. The legal industry has already demonstrated a willingness to trade fidelity for convenience when given the opportunity.
The promise that Filevine will always preserve the CSR as central is not a structural guarantee. It may instead represent a transitional phase. The CSR appears, at least for now, to serve as the bridge to credibility, not necessarily the endpoint of the company’s long-term vision.
The Gatekeeper Illusion
The role of “Court Reporter in Charge” within a technology company’s ecosystem may feel like stewardship. It may even feel empowering. But over time, such roles can be reduced to symbolic compliance layers — present while the underlying architecture continues moving toward automation.
This is a pattern seen across industries: journalism, medicine, education, logistics, and now stenography. The language is always the same: partnership, innovation, safeguarding, collaboration. The outcome often follows a familiar arc: normalization, commodification, and displacement.
Believing a venture-backed software company will permanently subordinate its growth trajectory to preserve a human trade is, at minimum, optimistic and deserves critical scrutiny.
“We Would Never Use Your Work to Train a Model”
This promise, repeated in the article, is difficult to verify without permanent, transparent, legally binding restrictions enforceable by independent oversight. In an era where data is the new oil, good faith assurances alone are not structural protection.
Even if current policy claims restraint, nothing prevents future policy revision, acquisition, restructuring, or reclassification of data usage. Ownership of infrastructure historically evolves toward broader monetization.
This Is Not a Traditional Partnership
Filevine may position itself as a collaborator, but the power imbalance between a venture-backed technology platform and a regulated profession creates inherent risk. Deep embedding within the profession allows the company to learn its workflows, standards, and operational logic — knowledge that could, over time, be used to simulate or supplant those very functions.
The move into agency operations therefore raises legitimate questions about long-term intent and control over the labor pipeline.
The Language of Loyalty vs. The Reality of Power
When an industry insider publicly advocates for a corporate entrant that structurally benefits from the profession’s eventual erosion, the issue is not personal loyalty. It is conflict of interest and institutional risk.
This is not about demonizing individuals. It is about recognizing when allegiance to innovation narratives may undermine the very ecosystem that built the profession.
The profession must learn to distinguish between collaboration and co-option.
The Real Endgame
The most dangerous part is not the technology. It is the normalization.
Normalization of hybrid records. Normalization of AI “rough drafts.” Normalization of “acceptable error margins.” Normalization of replacing skilled transcription with machinic approximation.
By the time reporters realize the gate has been opened, the replacement infrastructure may already be built.
And once the profession becomes a mere “upgrade option” on a software platform, the damage may already be irreversible.
Keep Your Friends Close, Your Platforms Closer
What is happening is not simply innovation. It is, at minimum, encroachment framed as stewardship.
And when the custodians of the profession begin defending the very system designed to outgrow them, the greatest threat is no longer external.
It becomes internal.
The court reporting profession does not need a software company to “save” it. It needs to remain sovereign from companies whose structural incentives align with automating and monetizing its decline.
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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