When Leadership Falls Short: The Crisis of Care in Library Work
Posted on in Blog Posts
FOBO: The Fear of Becoming Obsolete
Posted on May 19, 2026 in Blog Posts
Authors:
Alejandro Marquez
There are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don’t know we don’t know.
Donald Rumsfeld
In the 1957 film Desk Set, Katharine Hepburn’s character, Bunny Watson, is a library reference clerk whose encyclopedic knowledge and quick thinking make her the backbone of her department. She represents the intelligence, wit, and resilience of human workers in the face of technological change. When Spencer Tracy’s character, Richard Summers, arrives to automate her workplace with a new computer system, she fears his machines will replace her and her colleagues, making their skills and expertise obsolete. This fear of losing relevance pushes Bunny to clash with Summers at every turn.
As the story unfolds, Desk Set reveals that while technology can enhance efficiency, it cannot replicate the creativity, humor, and problem-solving abilities that make humans unique. Bunny’s initial anxiety about the computer mirrors a concern that still resonates today: the fear of being replaced by machines. Though the film ends on a lighthearted note with Bunny and Richard finding mutual respect and even romance, it raises a serious question that continues to haunt workplaces in the age of artificial intelligence (AI). How do workers adapt and find value in a world where technology is constantly advancing?
Fear of Technological Advancement
I share Bunny’s anxiety that one day I will wake up and discover that the work I’ve spent years mastering, the skills I’ve honed, and the professional identity I’ve built have been rendered obsolete. The tasks I once performed with care and expertise are now done faster, more cheaply, and perhaps even more effectively by an algorithm. In this moment of great technological change, the fear of obsolescence feels overwhelming, not just as a professional loss but as a blow to my sense of purpose and self-worth.
AI obsolescence, often referred to as AI anxiety, fear of AI, or AI hesitancy, describes a wide range of worries about the consequences of AI becoming widely used in society. It isn’t a new phenomenon. In the 18th century, some people feared the printing press, worried it would facilitate the spread of false information. In the 19th century, railroads sparked fear among certain groups who believed that the rapid movement of people and goods would destroy traditional ways of life. Then, in the 20th century, many worried that computers would replace human workers, causing widespread unemployment. Just as with those earlier technologies, society is now grappling with how to adapt to the powerful tool that is AI, balancing its benefits with its drawbacks.
I often think of an old coworker whose career was impacted by technology. In the 1990s, this former colleague worked in the library’s periodicals department and loved her job, selecting and purchasing physical magazines and journals, handling billing, and overseeing the binding process. There were five people in her department, and together, they kept the library’s print periodicals organized and up to date. She found satisfaction in the quiet focus and structure of the work, but when the 2000s arrived, libraries shifted from print to digital, and the periodicals department disappeared. While some of her colleagues left the profession entirely, she stayed and transferred to the circulation department, but the transition wasn’t easy. Circulation work was fast-paced and demanding. As a frontline staff member, she was constantly interacting with patrons, solving problems, answering questions, and dealing with difficult situations. The emotional labor was exhausting and overwhelming for an introvert like her, and she confided in me that she felt undervalued in her new role. Further, she had little hope for advancement or raises as she had reached the top of her career ladder.
It seems like libraries are undergoing a major shift like this every 5–10 years. What once took up entire rooms—like reference collections—has now been reduced to a single shelf. Print book collections continue shrinking, while digital access expands. As library staffs shrink, many academic library instruction programs are moving toward asynchronous formats (instruction videos, handouts, online tutorials) and focusing more on personalized one-on-one engagement (research consultations). Search algorithms make it easier for individuals to receive an answer, however dubious the quality of the response. Libraries have done such a good job of creating a seamless information searching experience that much of the behind-the-scenes labor goes unnoticed. What once looked like magic is now an everyday occurrence.
When I advise new librarians, I emphasize the necessity of embracing change. Nothing remains static for long, and to thrive, they must continually reinvent themselves. I try to follow my own advice. I stay informed about trends, volunteer to test new technologies, and challenge myself to adapt. I ask questions, devise plans, and work diligently to implement them.
Yet, at times, it feels like trying to drink from a firehose, with the overwhelming amount of new information and innovations that sometimes contradict each other. Each new technology can feel like starting over at the bottom of an experience ladder. I wrestle with the fear of burning out, imposter syndrome, and the worry of not bouncing back. Despite these challenges, I strive to remain optimistic, believing that perseverance will eventually lead to clarity and success.
With nearly three decades left before my own retirement, I refuse to become complacent. Faced with inevitable change, there seem to be two choices: embrace technology as a natural part of life, or cling to the past and hope it will pass. Reflecting on my former colleague’s struggles to adapt, I am determined not to spend my career looking backward. I refuse to dwell on a version of librarianship that no longer exists. I aim to keep moving forward, no matter how overwhelming the pace of change may seem. Setbacks are part of the career journey and not permanent roadblocks.
Ultimately, Desk Set reminds us that while technology can enhance efficiency, it cannot replicate the creativity, the humor, and the problem-solving abilities that make us uniquely human. The question remains: how do we, as library workers, adapt and find value in a world where technology is constantly advancing? It’s a question that demands our attention, not just for library professionals, but for anyone navigating the technological complexities of the 21st century.
Reflective Questions
- Can you think of a specific library job you’ve observed or heard about that seems particularly vulnerable to automation?
- Are chatbots and AI assistants truly replacing human interaction, or are they simply changing the nature of the work?
- Do you think the fear of job loss due to technology is a new phenomenon, or has it always existed with new inventions?
- Are chatbots and AI assistants truly replacing human interaction, or are they simply changing the nature of the work?
- How might technology impact jobs that require creativity, critical thinking, or emotional intelligence? Are these jobs truly “safe”?
- Do you think the fear of job obsolescence is justified, or is it often overblown? What evidence supports your view?
- Historically, technological advancements have often led to job displacement, but also to the creation of new jobs. Do you believe this pattern will continue? What kinds of new jobs might emerge?
- How might automation impact income inequality? Could it exacerbate the gap between librarians and paraprofessionals?
- Is it the responsibility of organizations implementing automation to consider the impact on their employees? How should they approach this responsibility?
- Could a future with widespread automation lead to a sense of purposelessness or lack of fulfillment for people?
About the author:
Alejandro Marquez (he/him) is a Science and Engineering Librarian at the University of Denver Libraries. He also served in the Peace Corps in El Salvador, where he worked as a Municipal Development volunteer. His research interests include library employee mental health and well-being.
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Header image is a detail of This is Harlem by Jacob Lawrence. Courtesy of Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden. © 2021 The Jacob and Gwendolyn Knight Lawrence Foundation, Seattle / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. For more information, click here.