Term sourced from “The Death of Expertise: The Campaign Against Established Knowledge and Why it Matters” by Tom Nichols. The book largely centers on the lack of respect for fact and knowledge, despite greater access to them. People not only neglect knowledge, taking it for granted, but they misuse it, misappropriate it, and manipulate it to the extent of weaponization.
If you’ve not read The Death of Expertise, be sure to do so. The first edition was published in 2017, prior to COVID, the rise of AI, and the large-scale political dismissal of fact and science. I had read the first edition at least twice fully and just recently discovered that Nichols released a second edition in 2024, which I have now ordered. I first read the book during the COVID-19 pandemic, and it felt to me as if Nichols was able to predict the future as his statements, though published in 2017, were incredibly prophetic of the political environment and the social reactions to the pandemic. Afterwards, I found Nichols’ words to strongly relate to the rampant misuse of artificial intelligence that we’ve seen in the past few years.
The title of the book has become a phrase that so often comes to mind for me since first reading his book. Interactions I have with people, both personally and professionally, and posts I see on social media, including LinkedIn – a platform in which I have higher expectations, provide ample anecdotal evidence of the erosion of knowledge, the lack of respect for learning, and the death of expertise. I see these not only as observations of social-political nature as Nichols writes about, but for me they are also observations of specific activities within the field and practice of emergency management.
While I don’t yet know the extent to which Nichols addresses the use of AI in his updated edition, I certainly view AI as contributing to the death of expertise. We see people of all ages using AI. When it’s being used in education to write papers and complete projects, or even to do research, it becomes a replacement for learning. It’s as if someone else was doing your homework. When you don’t put in the work, you don’t learn. When I see new professionals using AI, they aren’t building the foundational skills they need for their jobs and careers. Why learn how to write a plan when AI can do it for you? I’m also not letting advanced professionals off the hook, either. I have yet to see a quality product generated by AI in the field and practice of emergency management. AI advocates in the field will state that ‘of course people still need to be involved’. Sure, but with diminishing expertise, how will people, in the long term, know what needs to be reviewed much less how to fix it? Further, if it’s going to be rampant with errors and omissions, an experienced practitioner should be able to do a better job without the use of AI; while one with less experience stands to gain experience by actually doing the work themselves. The lack of accuracy across AI language learning models (LLMs) is staggering.
I think a lot of the degradation of knowledge and skills we see is further amplified by the impacts of COVID-19 mitigation measures. So called ‘COVID kids’, many of those in pre-school, grade school, and college during the early period of the pandemic whose style of learning wasn’t compatible with remote learning had their education severely disrupted. While the ‘no fault’ policies of grade schools and even colleges allowed these young people to advance or even graduate with sub-par grades, this didn’t do any favors to their learning. Though I also see a significant number of professionals who have been working since before the pandemic with poor writing and research skills. Functional disability aside, I’m disappointed that people are able to graduate, especially from college, with poor writing skills. And by the way, this has EVERYTHING to do with emergency management. So much of what we do across the various functions encompassed within emergency management involves writing. There is also the matter of the differences between professional writing and academic writing, which is a different topic I’m not going to venture into at the moment other than to say that professional writing, even for STEM majors, should be something that is taught.
The death of expertise is nothing new, but I think in the past decade we are seeing increased symptoms. Much of it, as told by Nicholas, is rooted in personal philosophies. Are people curious? Do they want to learn more? What are their attitudes toward learning? Do they think they know everything they need to know? There is also a matter of empathy. AI doesn’t care about the quality of a product. People should. I’ve found that caring about your work, attention to detail, and a quality mindset are also things that are learned or at least honed.
Issues are spread across generations, as well. I’m seeing less experienced professionals arrogantly assuming they know everything there is to know with only a few years under their belts. Similarly, I see those with decades of experience exhibiting the same perceptions of their own knowledge, yet, even with expertise we should never assume we know all there is to know. While experience is important, it is only one contributor towards knowledge. We need to read, talk, and listen, then take time to comprehend and assess. We can’t be afraid to try new things.
Similarly, there is an issue of research in emergency management. I’m not speaking, necessarily, of academic research, but more so about professional research. There is absolutely a need to do this in consulting, as most consultants regularly engage with new clients that they should be learning about, but it also applies to emergency managers working for specific agencies, jurisdictions, or organizations. There is always something to be learned. I take time to understand every new client.
For any given jurisdiction in which I’m working I certainly want to know their structure of government and become familiar with their emergency plans, but that’s the most basic stuff. Are they in a home-rule state? What are the demographics? What is the infrastructure? What are the socio-economic and socio-political influences in the jurisdiction? Are there labor organizations? What is their disaster history? What are their primary hazards? What are their gaps? Who are the major employers? What relationships exist with other jurisdictions? What capabilities and capacities do they have? What is the history and what are the general attitudes toward preparedness? Who are the major stakeholders and what is there to learn about major stakeholders in the community such as hospitals? Etc., etc.
It’s not just consultants, though. I’ve spoken with far too many emergency managers of jurisdictions and organizations don’t have adequate knowledge of their jurisdictions or organizations. That’s negligence. I’d certainly never expect anyone to know all there is to know, but there are significant knowledge gaps of the fundamentals. I feel this comes from emergency managers who may not have the experience or perspective to not know what they don’t know, or, perhaps even more often, emergency managers who tend to favor specific activities, such as response, while also holding less value for other key activities. The result, however, isn’t simply their negligence, it’s a failure to truly and properly engage across their jurisdiction or organization, meaning they are a less than effective emergency manager.
This post hit a number of related topics and, in doing so, managed to pull together a few different ideas I’ve had over the past few months. I hope it resonates with readers and encourages us all to have more respect for knowledge within our areas of practice and even in life as a whole, and do be sure to pick up a copy of The Death of Expertise.
© 2026 – Tim Riecker, CEDP