Dr. Desmond Daley
Pittsburgh's AI Memory Is an Asset | Dr. Desmond Daley
A thoughtful examination of why Pittsburgh's skepticism toward AI development reflects generational memory of industrial betrayal, not ignorance—and what we can do about it.
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Originally published in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on January 4, 2026.
Maybe your grandfather worked the blast furnaces in Homestead. Maybe your father watched the mills close in Braddock, one by one, until the only thing left was the smokestacks and the silence. Maybe you grew up in the Mon Valley hearing stories about what this region used to be, what it used to build, what it used to mean. If you did, you already know what this survey is measuring. It is not ignorance. It is not backwardness. It is memory.
150,000 jobs vanished in a decade. Entire towns hollowed out. Families scattered. The people who stayed watched their neighbors leave and their property values collapse. They watched executives fly back to New York and Chicago while their fathers drank themselves quiet and their mothers worked double shifts at the hospital just to keep the lights on.
That kind of wound does not heal in one generation. It passes down. It sits in your bones. And when someone from a tech company shows up at a borough council meeting promising jobs and tax revenue, something in you tightens. You have heard this before. Your family has heard this before.
So when 1 in 3 Pennsylvanians say AI is a "significant threat to humanity," they are not being dramatic. They are being honest. They have seen what happens when an industry comes in, takes what it needs, and leaves. But here is what else they have seen: that showing up matters. That asking hard questions changes outcomes. That the planning meeting is where power lives, not the vote that comes after.
The Skeptics Are Not Wrong
Let us sit with that for a moment. Not rush past it. Not pivot to optimism. The Springdale residents who packed that council meeting have every right to be furious. Data centers strain the grid. Tax abatements often benefit shareholders, not neighborhoods. Developers promise local hiring and then bring in contractors from out of state. The pattern is familiar because it keeps happening.
Walk through Braddock on a winter afternoon. The wind comes off the river sharp enough to cut. The old Carnegie library still stands, but half the storefronts on the main drag are boarded up. You can still see the outline of what was, the wide streets built for shift changes, the churches with capacities for congregations that no longer exist. If you are skeptical, you are paying attention. Your skepticism is not a problem to be solved. It is evidence that you are taking this seriously.
The Believers Are Not Wrong Either
But here is the other side of that inheritance. Maybe you also grew up hearing about what Pittsburgh used to build. Not just steel. Ideas. Carnegie did not just run mills. He funded libraries across the country. Westinghouse did not just make money. He invented the air brake that made rail travel safe. Jonas Salk developed the polio vaccine at Pitt and refused to patent it because he believed it belongs to the people. Pittsburgh was not just a place where people worked. It was a place where people built things that mattered. Where working-class families sent their kids to school and those kids became engineers and nurses and teachers. Where innovation was not a buzzword. It was what you did.
Drive past CMU on a fall evening when the students are flooding out of Gates-Hillman Hall. The energy is palpable. These kids are coding the future, and many of them are staying. Starting companies. Hiring locally. Building something here. If you believe AI could be the next chapter of that story, you are not naive. You are remembering something true about this place.
The Real Question
This is not about choosing sides. The skeptics and the believers are often the same people. Ms. DeJeu saw it herself at the Shell Polymers meetings: the same person expressing distrust of industry and longing for a big employer in the same breath. That is not contradiction. That is wisdom. It is holding two things at once: the knowledge that we have been burned, and the hope that it does not have to be this way.
The question is not whether to trust AI or fear it. The question is whether Pittsburgh will have a seat at the table when decisions get made. Because here is what is already true: CMU's computer science program ranks in the top five nationally. Pitt's health sciences anchor a $50 billion regional healthcare economy. Aurora tests self-driving vehicles on our streets. Duolingo, founded here, went public at $6.5 billion. The technical talent and research infrastructure are already in place. The AI economy is not coming to Pittsburgh. It is already here. The only question is who benefits.
And yes, maybe engagement feels futile. Maybe you went to that zoning meeting five years ago and they approved the development anyway. Maybe you wrote to your council member and never heard back. Maybe you are tired.
But consider this: Springdale's council voted 5-2. That means two people voted no. Two people who had to face their neighbors, who had to explain their reasoning, who will have to run for re-election. Those two votes did not happen by accident. They happened because 75 residents showed up and made clear what they expected.
The margin was three votes. Three council members who might have voted differently if the room had been packed with people asking the right questions six months earlier. That is not futility. That is math.
What We Can Do
Ms. DeJeu is right: "This is not out of our hands." But collective action requires more than showing up after the vote. It requires showing up before.
Here is what that looks like in practice:
Pack the planning meetings. Not to shout. To ask questions. To demand specifics. How many local hires? What happens to the tax abatement if the company leaves? What are the environmental impact studies actually saying? Bring a notebook. Bring your neighbors. Make them see you.
Hold developers accountable. Get commitments in writing. Follow up. Make noise when promises are broken. The Springdale council said they approved the permit to avoid a lawsuit, but who is checking whether the developer follows through on its commitments? You are.
Invest in our own people. Workforce development is not charity. It is strategy. If the jobs are coming, our kids should be first in line. Not as an afterthought. As a requirement. Demand that training programs start before construction begins, not after.
Build our own companies. The next Duolingo should be founded by someone who grew up in Springdale. Not someone who moved here from the coasts. Support local founders. Invest in local talent. Keep the wealth here.
What We Owe
My grandfather did not work in the mills. But I have stood on the Hot Metal Bridge and looked out at the old J&L site, now a shopping center and some condos, and tried to imagine what it must have been like. The heat. The noise. The pride. I think about the people who built that. And I think about what we owe them.
Not blind faith in the next big thing. Not passive acceptance of whatever comes. But something harder: the willingness to stay engaged. To fight for terms that actually benefit the people who live here. To demand that this time, if industry comes back, it comes back on our terms.
Stand at the Fort Pitt Bridge at dusk and look back at the city. The lights coming on in the skyscrapers. The rivers converging. The hills rising on all sides. It is still here. We are still here.
Pittsburgh rebuilt itself once before. From steel town to healthcare and education hub. We know how to do this. The question is whether we will do it again. Whether we will let someone else write this chapter, or whether we will pick up the pen ourselves.
Your grandparents built something that mattered. Your kids are watching to see if you will too.