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My latest column uses an antique car to explain the human impact of today’s changing technology. You should check it out (gift link). And, if you’re interested, let me explain the sobering reasons why I wrote it.

I knew a forester who saw climate change in the trees before most in northern Minnesota would acknowledge its existence on the news. I have a friend who, years ago, spent two Bitcoin to pay back a guy he knew for some drinks. That guy later bought a house with those Bitcoin. My parents ran a transportation company in 1996, which made me the first in my friend group to have access to a cell phone. Honest to God, at the time, I thought the main appeal was that you could talk to your actual human friends from anywhere.

I’m a reader. I’ve always been curious. While skeptical of fads, I am generally early to learn new technology. And yet, I have often failed to understand the magnitude of change until it was right on top of me. I don’t think that’s unusual. Human history is full of this sort of thing. 

So today, let me share some real talk about changes that are now on top of me, and you, even if you might not know it yet.

Last year I left my teaching position at Minnesota North College to become a columnist for the Minnesota Star Tribune. During the spring semester, I observed that the way I was teaching my communication classes was no longer working amid the rise of artificial intelligence. It was becoming impossible to prevent and sometimes even detect students using AI to write papers. There are ways to integrate appropriate use of AI into education, but I taught entry-level courses where fundamental skills are learned. You need the fundamental skills to even understand what AI is doing on your behalf. You have to to learn the “why” to appreciate the “how.”

I knew I was leaving after the semester, so I did the best I could. But I told myself that if I ever taught again I’d have to change everything. Hand-written papers. More in-person, video and audio assessments. In-class working sessions. The temptation of having a machine do your homework is impossibly great, especially when most of the new start-up funding in the world is being used to sell those machines to businesses, organizations, governments and, yes, teachers.

“Adults” can’t get enough AI, even as they complain about data centers and higher power bills. Dumb AI slop rules social media. You can point it out, but it will return to your feed many times, shared by people you know. It turns out that a lot of people, many even most, are fine with fake, mediocre or generic content. They always were, but at least humans got paid to make it. So-called “white collar” work, as a concept, is collapsing as we speak.

So, genius that I am, what do I do? I leap from the flaming vessel of higher education to another flaming vessel, the media.

I already knew many of the challenges confronting media work because I’ve been writing some form of a newspaper column since 2001 and blogging since 2006. What started as internet consolidation behind the almighty Google suddenly gave way to social media. Getting people to A) find, and B) read your work was getting harder. And then, just in the last year, AI fired a Death Star laser beam at the whole works.

Here is the progression as I saw it.

I spent a lot of time building social media accounts back in the 2000s and 2010s. It was worthwhile at first. People found my columns and blog posts, shared them, and 10-20 percent of the engagements converted over to my website, where I might capture some ad revenue or new subscribers to my free newsletter.

A few years ago, social media sites like Facebook and Twitter (now X) changed their algorithms to reduce views for links that left their platforms. They wanted the audience to share and comment and like posts on their sites, not mine. I get it. It’s a business. But it meant that, to find a following, you had to produce content JUST for Facebook, Twitter, etc. You’re not independent anymore. You’re not partnering with the big tech companies; you’re working for them. 

Ah, well, at least you could still find an audience on Google.

Gaming the Google algorithm was always a big part of running a website. People find you by searching the topics you write about. If your stuff is good, or at least “Google good,” and your website is reputable, or at least “Google reputable,” people found you through search. This is how many readers found me over the years.

When Google started rolling out its AI search features, this changed almost immediately. If you search for an Iron Range historical or political topic, for instance, you might see the gist of my work show up in your search, but often as part of the AI summary. There is technically a link in the citation that you could click on, but few ever do. Why would they?

Now, so far, I’ve been talking about my little blog and my little problems. But I now work for a media company confronting these same problems. Thank goodness for subscribers! Just like my small audience here at MinnesotaBrown, the biggest readership of any given online Star Tribune article is internal to the website. And yes, there are more online readers now than those who read the print edition. 

Believe me, there are many very talented people working on this, but I sit here as a writer wondering exactly how this might turn out. I can’t help but notice the increasing numbers of AI-integrated writers, real people using their name and knowledge to shape AI prompts into published material.

I have been compelled to write since I was a child. It is innate to how I process the world, and while I always hope you like what I write, I will get up tomorrow and write more even if no one reads it. I seek topics that interest me and you more or less equally. To some degree, I feel like John Henry racing the steam engine. Can I insert enough originality and humanity into my work to become more valuable than an AI summary?

Sure, but for how long? How many jobs will be lost? What jobs might replace them?

What gives me hope is that young people are increasingly savvy to AI and are finding new ways to express their humanity. But I cannot stress enough how different tomorrow will be from yesterday. 

So, this is my long way of saying that you should read today’s column, “What a 1921 Ford Model T can teach us about today’s tech,” in the Thursday, Feb. 19, 2026 edition of the Minnesota Star Tribune. This is going to be a monumental era in so many ways. I appreciate everyone who reads, supports and shares my work, and encourage you to curate your media diet to include the best stuff, the real stuff, and not just the easiest to find stuff.

Aaron J. Brown is a columnist and member of the editorial board for the Minnesota Star Tribune. His new book about Hibbing Mayor Victor Power and his momentous fight against the world’s largest corporation will be out soon.