Library Director James Hill reflects on the ubiquity of AI and asks if we can still choose to opt out of the digital tide.
The author, nearing retirement, reflects on a recurring pattern: older colleagues retiring when new technologies emerge. He cites examples like the transition from card catalogs to computer systems, physical reference materials to online databases, the rise of social media, and the pervasive integration of "smart" technologies. Each wave of innovation, he notes, seems to displace a generation's accumulated institutional knowledge, leading to a sense of being unable to keep pace with the rapid digital shifts.
The author contemplates whether artificial intelligence (AI) represents a similar personal "inflection point" for him, questioning at what stage he might choose to stop actively pursuing technological literacy. He frames this not as "giving up," but as a potential return to a simpler approach. This internal debate extends to the future of libraries, where he ponders if AI and robotics will eventually relegate human librarians to mere oversight roles, and what new forms of value, like time or goodwill, might emerge in a hypothetical future where traditional work is automated.
A significant shift highlighted by the author is the "capitulation of choice" concerning AI. Unlike previous tools where engagement was optional, AI is now deeply embedded in almost every digital interaction. Examples given include AI-generated search results on Google, AI-driven resume screening, AI influencing social media feeds, and AI tracking personal preferences for purchases and entertainment. This pervasive nature means individuals have largely lost control over their personal data, which is continuously collected and stored in energy- and water-intensive server farms, raising critical questions about data autonomy and environmental impact.
Despite the widespread integration of AI, the author firmly believes it will not render librarians irrelevant. He draws parallels to past technological shifts: computers didn't eliminate paper, nor did typewriters replace pens entirely. These were merely tools that enhanced, rather than supplanted, human creativity. He views AI similarly as a tool, but one that is often "forced upon us like a panacea." The author advocates for retaining human ingenuity, critical thinking, and the ability to "puzzle out the right word" by consulting traditional resources like dictionaries and thesauri, rather than solely relying on AI. He concludes that the physical reality of organizing and managing physical materials in a library remains a human task, as AI has yet to replace the tangible aspects of a shelf.