Radio’s Next Great Format May Have Nothing to Do With Traditional Radio

Dave Van Dyke’s  [Bridge Ratings Media Research] recent essay suggests that radio’s next great format could be “the wisdom of its own audience“. Using AI to organize thousands of listener responses that local personalities can turn into programming is a great concept.

I just don’t think it’s strong enough.

As a technologist, I’ve argued three things about the disruption to terrestrial radio:

1. The disruption to radio’s audience is catastrophic and probably unrepairable. The audience isn’t zero. The revenue isn’t zero. Radio isn’t disappearing tomorrow.

That’s not the point.

The mass audience that once made radio such an efficient cash machine is fragmented to the point that no single ‘bolt-on’ approach can fix. I keep seeing ideas floated that are trying to win back pieces of an audience that no longer behaves like an audience.

A podcast doesn’t solve that.

A You Tube studio cam isn’t the answer either.

Putting the station on Facebook, X, TikTok or any streaming service is a bandage covering a mortal wound. Radio has spent decades optimizing a dying model that crumbled when the technology shifted the valuable commodity to information and data over audience size.

2. Radio needs to make a much larger pivot.

The industry has historically packaged audiences. Ratings tell advertisers how many people were there, when they were there and roughly who they were. That made sense when the viable commodity was access to a mass audience.

Today, audience is fragmented and attention is increasingly personalized. Radio’s future isn’t about finding a better way to count listeners. The future is all about finding a better things to know about them. Information that is useful.

I’m talking about the kind of information that is potentially much more valuable than demographics, psychographics, geography, or buying habits.

What problems are appearing before institutions know about them?

What local events are unfolding that don’t yet exist in a database?

What is actually happening in the community right now?

AI creates a fascinating possibility here. Thousands of individual observations can potentially be collected, classified, geographically organized, compared, verified and turned into something useful.

The product isn’t “more engagement.”

– It’s community intelligence.

3. Radio still possesses something its disruptors cannot easily duplicate.

A license and a tower to transmit. If signal area is a limitation, then you must flip the script and use the asset in a way the disruptive technologies simply cannot match.

Others have said it. Not sure anybody’s listening.

Radio is hyper-local.

That’s a magic bullet and the corporations do not understand how to do it.

The local business owner gets it. So does the auto repair shop, the car dealer and the beverage distributor.  Their entire customer base is local and that’s where they keep their focus.

Re-imagine the platform to combine localized reach, simultaneous distribution, free reception and the ability to communicate with an well defined community without requiring every person to buy, configure and upgrade a device that spies on their private lives.

Now, re-imagine the content, laser focused on everyday experiences, neighborhoods, and responsive in real-time to the people who actually live there.

When used correctly, AI has some amazing skills; pattern matching, data compilation, source attribution. Start with the human journalists and creative personalities with the means to interpret, challenge and verify AI observations. Find the engaging, report the vitals and share the local experiences.

The new architecture becomes:

People → observations → AI distillation → human creative judgment → community → people

That’s very different from:

People → ratings → advertisers.

And it is very different from doing yet another AI-generated or voice track show.

Van Dyke understands that AI could allow the personality to “hear the entire room.”

I’d simply ask the question another way: What if the benefit isn’t to hear the room better?

What if the benefit is to know what’s really happening in the room?

The pivot could produce something radio hasn’t really had before: a continuously updated, real-time model of the exact community it serves.

The things people are experiencing before they’re reported anywhere else.

The AI doesn’t decide what’s true. It’s a tool to identify patterns, contradictions and confidence levels. Humans still provide judgment, verification, accountability and the creative spark to engage.

The on-air signal still does what it has always done remarkably well:

Reach an entire community, live – 24/7.

A former Apple evangelist talks about how HP revolutionized printing. HP  didn’t just introduce a new font, they made the printer 1000 times better.

Radio won’t survive if the goal is to just become more interesting.

Radio must become more useful.

AI could be part of an answer, helping the local broadcaster build a new kind of community network. That’s a much bigger bet . Potentially, a much more interesting, and lucrative future.

Better Than Health Insurance…


My first job after college was at a small radio station south of Phoenix, AZ. We needed a swing man. Someone to cover weekend shifts. We found a local guy with a great voice who understood the station, knew the market and was willing to work for the ‘beans and rice’ wage we were going to offer.

He made it through every round of interviews. Then, in the final interview with the whole team, he asked the General Manager what his out-of-pocket cost would be for health insurance. He had a young family. The GM didn’t blink.

“We have something better than health insurance here. You get 25% off from our client, ABC Dental.”

The candidate would ultimately decline the job offer.
I’m guessing ABC Dental was disappointed too.

Weeks later, I was still working an extra weekend night shift when two fire trucks went past the studio window, followed by an ambulance. Out of nowhere, the General Manager came running in, grabbed the remote transmitter pack and headed for the door. He was going to cover the fire.

He called from the scene a few minutes later.

“This is a big fire,” he told us. “Right at Five Points, downtown.”

He wanted to go live immediately. I had about 45 seconds left in the song.

“Cut it. Get me on the air.” he barked.

You’re the boss, I said to myself. I killed the music, introduced the breaking news and put Matt on-air.

“This is Mad Dogg Matt, er, General Manager Matt Morton, live at the scene of a major fire downtown. I’ve got a firefighter here. Let’s see if he’ll say a few words.”

The firefighter came on.

“Hi, Matt. Yeah, this is a controlled burn. We’ve got two rookie teams training tonight. It was in the newspaper all week. You didn’t know?”

Dead Air.

In my feeble attempt to rescue the moment I asked if any roads were closed.

“No” Matt said. “That’s it from Five Points, back to you in the studio.”

“Thank you, Matt Morton.” I summoned my best stoic announcer voice and stole a joke.

“When news breaks, we fix it. B-105 FM.” I let the record spin.
– Robert Palmer, “Addicted to Love”.

For years I thought stories like these were about individual managers with big egos and bad judgment. The cheap boss. The overconfident boss. The boss who mistakes having authority for having good instincts.

I don’t think that anymore.

I think organizations develop quiet agreements about what is allowed to be questioned. At that radio station, the agreement was simple. The boss’s instincts don’t get challenged in the moment. Everyone understood calling out the absurdity was more painful than living with the error.

I think is the number one reason perfectly ordinary, hard working teams, collectively end with remarkably stupid outcomes.

We all silently agreed you could not ask the hard question out loud.

“Is this really a good idea?”

Sometimes organizational culture is nothing more complicated than the answer to that single question. Sometimes, the only acceptable answer is:

Shhh~ the boss is doing journalism.”

It Was “a great day for all of us”.

At a company meeting some years ago, the CEO stood up and read a list of my accomplishments for all to hear.

My career in technology started on a help desk. The company was moving content from print into database software, and over the years I built several projects that measurably improved customer service. Everyone agreed, including the people who signed the checks.

A teammate nominated me for Employee of the Year.

I wasn’t in the room when the award was announced. My teammate got excited and started whispering my name as the CEO spoke. A department head immediately shushed him.

“Wait for the announcement.” she pleaded.

A few moments later, the CEO named my boss Employee of the Year.

He hadn’t asked for it. He was mortified. He offered to split the cash award with me. I declined. (I might have taken the parking space that came with the honor but that wasn’t on the table).

The manager who’d done the shushing, who soon became Head of HR, told the team it was “a great day for all of us.”

Later on, the company opened twelve positions on the development team. I’d spent every workday up to this moment, learning the product, the customers and fixing every way either could break.  I had also built and deployed a Help Desk app and a Sales Performance Tracking tool management loved and actively used.

I made it through several interview rounds.

The hiring manager finally told me they’d decided to open the jobs to outside candidates instead.

Around the same time, headhunters started calling me. The company was planning to relocate headquarters and wouldn’t say precisely where. My twenty-minute commute had the very real chance of becoming ninety minutes on the freeway. I started looking elsewhere. Most of those twelve positions were not filled when I left the company some months later.

I didn’t understand either decision at the time.
– I do now.

Neither one was really about me. Giving the award to my boss kept the org chart tidy. Opening the jobs to outsiders avoided a harder conversation about what it meant when a help desk had quietly become a farm team nobody wanted to admit existed.

Sometimes you’re too valuable where you are to get promoted.
– That’s a trap disguised as a compliment.

Bad outcomes don’t require bad people. They just require a system nobody’s willing to question out loud.

I spent the next few decades in technology, corporate offices and later public libraries, and I kept finding the same reflex wearing different clothes.

When someone’s performance creates an awkward question for the system, the system protects itself first and finds a respectable explanation after.

If AI Is Politics, Libraries Have Work to Do

Two essays hit my inbox in the last few days. One warned that AI concentrates power. The other argued libraries already have the skills to govern it. Together they made me wonder why so many libraries are still standing on the sidelines.

The first article, Tressie McMillan Cottom’s piece, “A Reading List for Our Age of A.I.” in the New York Times, will really strike a chord with the AI resistance minded. Cottom argues that AI isn’t a product: it’s politics.  It’s part of the system where money, data, and power are consolidating in the hands of a few unelected executives. That’s certainly not hyperbole.

It’s an important reminder why libraries should not ‘opt out’ of AI literacy programs.

If you really believe that AI is politics, then whoever explains it to the public is doing vital work for democracy, whether they admit it or not. Without an authentic, public service voice in the conversation, messaging falls to the vendors, the influencers hyping the service, and consultants cashing in on chaos. None of them answer to the public. None of them take an oath to intellectual freedom, privacy, or equitable access.

Both priorities are long-standing, well-defined missions of the public library.  That’s not branding; it’s the vital distinction between an institution and a sales funnel.

If Cottom is right that power is concentrating, the answer isn’t fewer trusted, disinterested guides in the room. Our communities need more voices advocating for the public interest. Libraries have exactly the kind of public trust this moment requires. Too many are choosing to spend it on “Avoid AI” workshops instead.

I know the objection, because I have made the point myself myself: engaging with these tools  feeds the power machine Cottom is warning us about.  Every library patron steered toward ChatGPT or Gemini is a data point handed to the companies concentrating that power.

Fair, but many of our patrons are already there.  We’re not steering anyone at this point.  Consider what the alternative actually buys.  Opting out doesn’t slow the machine down; it just means nobody in the room is asking the hard questions on your patrons’ behalf.

My career in libraries was not spent helping people avoid technology. The job was always helping patrons master it.

Which is exactly why the second piece I read this weekend matters more than the first: “How Library Science Principles Power Community AI Literacy” from PublicLibrariesonline.org by Jose Ruiz-Vazquez, assistant manager at the Milwood Branch of the Austin Public Library.

Ruiz-Vazquez put it better than I can:  “We do governance all the time. We just don’t call it that.”

Controlled vocabulary, provenance, bias evaluation, and information stewardship are not a side-quest to AI governance. We’re applying the same set of skills to a different challenge. Librarians have been examining the provenance and reliability of information for a long time. That experience doesn’t fade when the data is generated by a mathematical language model.

The key point here, and it’s the one that should end this debate: Ruiz-Vazquez, offers a direct institutional challenge: libraries are already positioned to be the “verification layer for democracy” but only if they claim the role.

What does “getting in the game” actually require? Every major technology transition has been figured out by people willing to experiment in public.  Consider applying the skills our libraries already possess:

·         Provenance: Where did this information come from?

·         Authority: Who produced it, and who owns the system?

·         Privacy: What happens to the data a patron enters?

·         Evaluation: What are the tool’s limitations, biases, and failure modes?

·         Access: Who can use it, and who is locked out due to cost, language or disability?

·         Context: What does this output ignore?

·         Human judgment: When should a person, not a model, make the decision?

A practical approach begins modestly:

·         Create a small, public AI-tool registry. Evaluate the five tools patrons ask about most. Document privacy policies, costs, proper uses and limitations identified.

·         Integrate AI literacy into existing programs. Help job seekers use AI without losing their own voice. Help patrons examine vital records without treating a chatbot as ‘the expert’. Help students understand research and develop critical thinking skills.

·         Build standards together. Libraries should collaborate on evaluation frameworks, documentation practices, and preservation methods. We do not need every branch to reinvent the wheel, (or, in this case, the hallucinated zoning ordinance).

Solutions like this are starting to take shape.  Frisco Public Library is building AI programming with community partners rather than a single subject workshops. That’s a launch point, not a finished model. Nobody’s built the whole thing. Could it be that the infrastructure doesn’t exist yet because too many libraries decided the safer, more virtuous lane was standing outside it?

The library’s distinctive contribution is not technical novelty. It is public-interest information stewardship.  You don’t need a six-figure budget. You only need staff willing to try the tools, document where problems and shortfalls, and refuse to accept denial as a valid position.

Caution has a place. I’m less sure about “resistance”.  Refusal for the wrong tool, at the right moment, might indeed be the correct response. But refusal as the whole strategy is outsourcing your professional judgment to whoever’s willing to stand up before you.

Libraries have spent decades helping people navigate every major shift in how information is created, distributed, and trusted. AI isn’t the first revolution we’ve seen. It’s simply the first one that too many librarians have decided someone else should lead.

Your Choice. Their Future.

Don’t serve me a hot dog and call it tube steak. We both know better.

If we think our role in a public library is to teach people to avoid technology, we’ve misunderstood the assignment.

Just read the TechCrunch piece about libraries hosting “avoiding AI” workshops for people fed up with Big Tech.

“Avoid AI” workshops aren’t acts of resistance. They’re performative theater. They let staff signal their disdain for Big Tech while conveniently ignoring the bigger threats:

A vastly larger surveillance apparatus that’s been colonizing our patrons’ lives for fifteen years: Chrome, Facebook, Instagram, Bluetooth beacons, WiFi tracking, location services, and the entire behavioral advertising economy. Fixating on ChatGPT, Copilot, and Gemini isn’t principle. It’s selective outrage dressed up as moral clarity.

I didn’t spend my career helping people avoid technology. I spent it helping them master it.

There’s a profound difference.

Teaching the avoidance of technology evolution is not a sustainable strategy. It’s a coping mechanism for people who would rather feel righteous than useful. The public doesn’t need community libraries leading them into a digital monastery. They need us to be ruthless, clear-eyed guides through an environment flooded with synthetic media, algorithmic manipulation, and tools that are getting more powerful by the month.

The real opportunity, the one we’re fumbling while we chase likes and retweets is to own the hardest, most necessary territory: AI literacy, deep digital privacy, information verification in an age of perfect fakes, and the ability to maintain personal agency when the machines are better at persuasion than most humans.

That’s a growing need, not a shrinking one. That’s work worthy of our institutions.

Instead, too many of my former colleagues have decided the populist, anti-AI stance is the safer, more virtuous lane. They’re not building relevance. They’re accelerating their own obsolescence with a smile, convinced their Luddite cosplay constitutes courage.

It doesn’t.

Libraries don’t survive by telling people the future is scary and they should hide from it. We survive by making people more capable in that future than they would be without us.

The profession needs to choose: Are we serious, or are we just another group of frightened knowledge workers performing moral superiority while the ground shifts beneath us?

The hot dog is NOT a steak. Call it what it is.

Keep pretending avoidance equals ethics, or get serious and teach people how AI is already being used to persuade, profile, and manipulate them, and how to push back with competence instead of fear.

It’s your choice now but it soon will be your patrons future.

The AI Literacy Center & Community Hub


After 30 years in technology, I’ve never seen a more pivotal inflection point for public libraries. The latest You dot Gov survey tells the story:

Public trust in Artificial Intelligence is declining
while public AI adoption is accelerating.

My strategic road map for a public library response
to the ‘AI Trust Crisis’ is here:

https://lnkd.in/gfF4NghC

Follow along this week as we explore the path forward in detail,
starting with: “Building a Community Hub: The AI Literacy Center”

Download the PDF with Clickable Resource Links.

AI isn’t just for technologists, it will become a core skill for many professions and across many vocations.

~ Libraries lead every major literacy movement. AI is next.

 

The AI Trust Crisis

A Strategic Opportunity for Libraries

Society is at a crossroads. Artificial intelligence (AI) is reshaping (or going to reshape) virtually every industry. Yet, in the latest poll by You.gov, the public trust in AI is Plummeting like circulation stats during the pandemic closures. This isn’t just another tech wave— it’s a defining moment for libraries to step up as trusted guides in an era of digital uncertainty.

The Big Picture

After three decades in library tech, I’ve seen plenty of trends come and go. The March 2025 survey results from You.Gov paints a striking picture:

Public skepticism of AI has jumped from 36% to 44% in just three months.
58% of Americans fear deep-fakes; 53% worry about privacy.
41% want stricter AI regulations.

Here’s the paradox: trust is declining, but AI adoption is accelerating. People voice concerns but they’re already using AI tools for resumes, research, and creative projects—whether our institutions acknowledge it or not. And the more often people use AI, the more positive their outlook about it’s effect on society.

If this feels familiar, you may have been around for the early days of services like Wikipedia. Internet users embraced it long before traditional institutions did and oddly enough it wasn’t the end of more scholarly, authoritative services. In fact, it significantly enhanced their status.

Why This Matters for Libraries

Libraries have always been champions of knowledge, privacy, and digital literacy. Here in this moment is the opportunity for us to lead again—not just as information stewards, but as AI literacy centers. Our communities need reliable voices to cut through the hype, fear, and misinformation surrounding AI. In an era where libraries are increasingly under fire, this specific pivot would seem obvious, important and maybe essential.

What Library Leaders Can Do

For directors and senior managers navigating this shift:

  • Position libraries as AI literacy hubs
  • Train staff on AI tools
  • Develop AI education initiatives
  • Form AI local advisory committees

For technology teams, the shift to AI requires thoughtful planning:

  • Assess AI integration standards
  • Strengthen data governance
  • Build AI-ready frameworks

The Workforce Evolution

Let’s also address the giant pink elephant in the room: job displacement fears. A full 48% of workers worry AI will replace them. Some will be correct. Knowledge workers in the library are not immune. But history and my own life experience suggests other options are possible and even more probable. Libraries didn’t disappear when we moved from card catalogs to online catalogs, when services like Google or digital downloads came along.

We adapted.

AI won’t replace libraries; but it can transform them. Our goal should be to harness the leverage AI offers to boost our efficiency, enhance services, and expand our impact.

“Quick Start” Action Steps

For Directors & Managers:

  • Audit your library’s AI readiness.
  • Develop an AI integration roadmap.
  • Invest in staff AI training.

For Technology Teams:

  • Evaluate infrastructure needs.
  • Review AI capabilities in vendor services.
  • Establish AI governance frameworks.

For Front-Line Staff:

  • Begin AI literacy training.
  • Gather patron feedback on AI use.
  • Share real-world AI applications and concerns.

The Path Forward

Libraries have always been more than a collection of books. We are community anchors, advocates for privacy, and champions of access and inclusion. From offering internet services to leading digital literacy programs, we’ve guided our patrons through every major technology shift.

AI is the next chapter and it’s time to turn the page.

What is the AI strategy in your library?

Are you leading the way or waiting on the sidelines?

Share your thoughts below and let’s shape the future together.

The ‘Subversives’

Image AI Generated by ChatGPT
Image AI Generated by ChatGPT

 

They speak of radical ideas like privacy, literacy and inclusiveness.

 

They live and work in our community and very often, they are activists and advocates.

 

Today’s librarians teach seniors to navigate tablets, guide job seekers through career transitions, and nurture creative expression through community arts and STEM programs.

In a world drowning in data and starving for truth, librarians serve as a sort of guardian protecting core American values. They fight against bad source material, deep-fake videos, ‘fake news’, and more.

Far from simple bookkeepers, librarians are digital revolutionaries—bridging our past and future with a mission more critical than ever before.  More than fighting falsehoods, professional librarians strengthen our democracy through literacy campaigns, voter registration drives and by simply creating neutral spaces for conversation in an increasingly polarized America.

The library of tomorrow isn’t merely a building— it’s one of the last places where you can simply sit, browse and belong. You can visit with friends and neighbors, hear and share stories and nobody ever expects (or demands) payment or a tip.

As our libraries evolve, so does the toolkit- AI for personalized learning, blockchain for data preservation, and immersive technologies that bring history to life.

As a Library Technologist,
   I’ve been able to see these transformations firsthand.

While the tech overlords continue to treat our private data as a saleable commodity, librarians consider patron confidentiality to be sacred. Library Technologists work to embed this core library value in all of our services to make sure the technology provides accessibility rather than data extraction.

What makes librarians remarkable isn’t superhuman ability, but rather their unwavering commitment despite budget constraints and digital overwhelm. Looking ahead, they aren’t just preserving knowledge— they’re building a future where truth remains accessible, innovation becomes inclusive, and communities stay connected.

Supporting your local library, particularly now, means defending freedom, opportunity, and equal access for all.

What’s your library story?

How has a library or librarian influenced your life or career.

Disrupting the Disruptors

There’s a little company out there with incredible influence on popular music and you might never have heard about them. A dedicated team of researchers is spying on radio stations, listening and recording every title played. When I worked there many years ago, we didn’t really realize it was a technology company.

We just loved the work.

– Can you imagine getting paid to listen to music or watch MTV and VH-1 all day?

The company is now called Mediabase 24/7 and I was very fortunate to work for them when they were based in Michigan. Our team of researchers monitored radio airplay on four formats in about 65 cities across the US. Each week we published our data in a magazine (and later pioneered an online data service).

Like Billboard magazine, we tabulated ‘charts’. Only our charts were fact based, disrupting an industry practice known as “paper adds” which made other industry charts of the era unreliable slop, factually speaking.

Billboard was decidedly not happy about us.

Shortly before Mediabase relocated to California, I got a call from ‘the Billboard Guy’. He bragged about their new [AI like system] that used automation to count ‘musical finger prints’ from radio airplay.

“Genuine rockets scientists created this.” he said smugly. “BDS is going to dominate this business.”

I never really knew exactly why he called me: to boast and brag. Was it a warning?

I only knew this: Their ‘sh*t’ didn’t work.

I’d seen the data: hallucinations, missing elements. BDS was incoherent and incomplete. Our human researchers crushed their automation. It wasn’t even close.

~ We had more data, were more accurate and our charts were significantly more reliable.

10 years later, Medibase was still there.
~ I was working for Paramount Television, a division of MTV parent VIACOM.  They never asked about my previous life as a music industry spy.

Probably because MTV was already dying.

20 years later, Mediabase 24/7 was, you guessed it– still there. Humans still identify songs on the radio [and other places]. The wiki isn’t clear on this point but Mediabase, now a small division in a corporate behemoth partnered with [or began using or buying– seriously, BDS –FIX your Wiki!] the BDS automation system [now called “Luminate”].

And Magic Happened.

Technology had improved the monitor collection process dramatically. And the talent of the small but very skilled team was able to leverage the BDS AI to achieve productivity increases of 10-12x {maybe more}. The company used this value add to expand into global markets and generate the kind of revenue we could only dream about in 1992.

Almost 30 years have now gone by and Mediabase Charts have displaced Billboard almost everywhere, including on the beloved radio show “American Top 40 Countdown” (now with Ryan Seacrest) created by Casey Kasem. MTV is a relic, stuck in an 80s trivia category known as “TVLand that Time Forgot“.

Life Lesson:
“Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.”

AI didn’t replace the people— it empowered them. Technology improved, but the real game-changer was the fusion of human talent and AI. Now, AI is coming to virtually every industry. In a NYT Interview, Ben Buchanan, the former special adviser for artificial intelligence in the Biden White House forecasts that the time to “Artificial General Intelligence, may only be two or three [and not 10] years away.

The real stars of the next 30 years will use AI to leverage talent, skill and knowledge and not just to replace humans.

What are you doing to prepare for the next wave of disruption?

“AI-generated GARBAGE has flooded our digital collection!”

When AI Comes Knocking

An email like this made me spit coffee all over my carefully cluttered desk.

My first thought?

“Great, another tech apocalypse to add to my to-do list, right between ‘crippling AI privacy leaks in Adobe and Windows’ and ‘reminding patrons that headphones exist’.

I get it. Library professionals —and everyone who values knowledge and creativity— has a visceral reaction to “AI Slop”. AI stirs the dystopian cauldron, conjuring images of demonic robots drowning out the human voices and making everything feel a lot less human. Feelings we have long before we talk about ethical landmines like plagiarism, copyright, bias, misinformation and job displacement.

If that makes you uneasy— you’re not alone.

For those just tuning in, I’m currently a public library technologist. Over the years, I’ve worn many hats: broadcaster, IT wrangler for the media and publishing industries. I’ve modernized more than one library system. One memorable day I was summarily drafted as an unofficial bat rescuer (THAT story involves a giant Tupperware bowl and a children’s librarian with nerves of steel, so I’ll save it for another post.)

My point is that I’ve seen technology spark both wonder and fear. And I’ve learned after decades of technology panic cycles that the very things we fear most, often become the tools we can’t live without.

What if AI is less “evil book-burning robot” and more “that eager & clueless new hire” who:

– Shows up with bizarre ideas that occasionally lead to brilliant opportunities
– Needs constant supervision and persistent ethical guidance
– Makes ridiculous mistakes we can laugh at and very often, learn from

AI tools aren’t just about automation—they’re about leverage for human labor and inspiration for our educational and creative endeavors.

Question:  What was the technology that terrified you most when it first appeared? How do you feel about it now?

For me, it was free, public WiFi. I was convinced we’d be returning endless calls to fraud investigators and spam hunters.

Spoiler Alert: I was wrong.

Libraries have been here before. From the vanishing card catalogs to automation systems and from Wi-Fi to Chatbots, libraries adapt and continue to thrive with every change.

– Rising cost for hardware, software and massive increases in power consumption (Sound familiar?)
– Internet terminals, Wi-Fi hotspots, and digital collections that changed the profession entirely. (All risking Piracy, Privacy & Plagiarism.)
– Wikipedia (Definitely going to destroy research forever.)

Yet, with each innovation, libraries adapted because we stayed true to our mission:

Providing a coveted “third place”, connecting people with knowledge and each other.  If we don’t engage with AI, others will shape it without our values, we’ll leave our communities vulnerable to:

– Commercial interests over public good
– Digital divides becoming even wider chasms
– Information access determined by who can pay

Sitting on the virtuous sideline isn’t advocacy or even neutrality— it is the very definition of surrender.

I’m NOT suggesting generative AI is perfect for library uses.
It’s clearly not.

It’s messy, problematic, and evolving too fast for comfort. But the pace of change is different now. Television took 30 years to reach mass adoption; smartphones did it in five. Considering where AI is in 2025, our world may be unrecognizable by 2030.

I am simply suggesting we bring our public service superpowers to the table, to “Use Our Magic”, so to speak. We lead with our values, our commitment to privacy and intellectual freedom:

– Our passion for equal access
– Our discernment between quality information and, well, garbage
– Our habit of asking annoyingly good questions

Here’s what’s actually happening with AI in libraries around the world right now:

– – In a small [rural] Library, a solo librarian uses AI to create personalized reading lists for patrons, doubling the quantity and quality of their outreach without working overtime.
– – In an [Urban] High School, educators use AI tools to build highly personalized lesson plans flipping student comments from “I hate this assignment” into “can I stay late to finish this?”
– – University Libraries train AI chatbots to help students when reference librarians are unavailable.

Our fate is what we make from the work we do today. The future isn’t humans OR machines. It’s humans AND machines in libraries, creating communities where everyone has the tools, knowledge, and support to thrive— even when the world changes faster than we can update our policies.

Has your library tried any AI tools yet?
~ Please drop a comment—success stories AND horror stories welcome!

Oh, and about that bat rescue,  compared to the Microfiche Crisis of ’87, it was simply a no brainer.