Art of Adoption

It was one of those online events you usually join with a sense of ease. A setting where participants feel safe to speak openly, share real-world experiences, and sometimes go just a bit deeper than they would in a more formal context. Because there’s an implicit agreement: what’s shared here, stays here. No recordings. No formal notes. No quotes afterward.
Until suddenly, there’s an extra “participant” in the meeting.
Not a person, but a tool. Fireflies. An AI assistant that listens, transcribes, and summarises.

• Smart? Absolutely.
• Convenient? Without a doubt.
• But also: Uncomfortable.

This moment raises a number of fundamental questions. Questions we tend to overlook in the excitement around AI.

When convenience clashes with behaviour

From an adoption perspective, this creates an interesting tension. Tools like Fireflies perfectly address a very real need: we want to work smarter, spend less time taking notes, and stay focused on the conversation. AI enables exactly that.
But technology is never adopted in isolation.
Every tool we use influences behaviour. And perhaps more importantly: it influences the behaviour of others.
So ask yourself:

“Did everyone in that meeting know they were being listened to and recorded?”

And if the answer is “no” what does that do to the dynamic of the session?
Openness is fragile. It only exists when people feel safe. When that sense of safety is disrupted, often unconsciously, the conversation changes. Maybe subtly, but fundamentally.

Do we actually understand what these tools do?
A second question this raises: how well do we truly understand this type of tooling?
Fireflies and similar AI tools:

• Record conversations (audio and sometimes video)
• Convert them into text
• Generate summaries
• And often store that data in the cloud

Sounds harmless, until you translate it into context:

• Customer cases that may include sensitive information
• Internal strategic discussions
• Personal experiences or dilemmas

Are we aware of where that data ends up?
Who has access to it?
How long it’s retained?
AI adoption isn’t just about learning how to click the right buttons. It’s about understanding what happens under the hood.

Consent: implicit or explicit?

At its core, this is not a technical issue. It’s a social one.
Even if a tool is configured securely and compliant, the key question remains: can you just bring an AI note-taker into a conversation without asking?
In physical meetings, the norm is clearer. You don’t casually place a recording device on the table without telling anyone. In online settings, that boundary seems blurrier. Perhaps because the technology is so accessible.
But convenience doesn’t equal permission.
Maybe this is the moment to define new etiquette:

• Inform participants in advance when you’re using an AI tool
• Ask for explicit consent
• Allow people to object
• Respect it if someone feels uncomfortable

Not just because regulations might require it, but because trust does.

The role of the organiser

Equally important is the role of the event organiser.

• Were they aware of this “extra attendee”
• Did they have any policies in place?
• Or was this left entirely to individual participants?

More and more organisations are setting clear rules around recordings, screenshots, and content reuse. Yet AI tools are often still left out, simply because they’re relatively new or haven’t been explicitly considered.
That’s understandable. But it’s not sustainable.

Organisers need to start asking:

• What do we allow within our events?
• How do we communicate this to participants?
• How do we enforce it in a practical way?

Not to block innovation, but to make the rules of the game clear.

The grey area of good intentions

What makes this topic particularly interesting is that the intent is rarely malicious.
The person who adds Fireflies most likely thinks:

• “I just want good notes”
• “I don’t want to miss anything”
• “This helps me work more efficiently”

And that’s exactly where adoption becomes complex.
People act from their own perspective. Their own productivity gains. But they don’t always see the broader impact on the group.

This is not about right or wrong.
It’s about awareness.

AI adoption is also social innovation

We often talk about AI in terms of technology, governance, and security. But in practice, the biggest challenge lies elsewhere.
AI is changing how we collaborate.
It introduces new dynamics:

• Who is “listening”?
• What is being captured?
• Who owns that information?
• Who gets to decide that?

That requires new agreements. New norms. New sensitivities.
And perhaps most importantly: new conversations.

Time for ground rules

Maybe it’s time to stop viewing AI tools like Fireflies as an individual choice and start seeing them as a shared responsibility.
A few simple ground rules can already make a big difference:

1. Transparency first: No hidden AI participants. Always visible and clearly announced.
2. Explicit consent: Don’t assume, ask.
3. Context matters: What works in an open webinar doesn’t automatically fit a confidential session.
4. Minimise data collection: Capture only what’s truly necessary.
5. Build awareness: Talk about it. Make it discussable.

Finally: technology is never neutral

We often describe tools as “neutral”. But they’re not.
Every tool shapes behaviour. Alters interaction. Influences trust.
The rise of AI note-takers like Fireflies forces us to reflect on something fundamental:
“How do we want to collaborate in a world where everything can be recorded?”
The answer doesn’t lie in the tool itself.
It lies in how we choose to use it.

Because ultimately, adoption is not a technical challenge.
It’s a human one.