Since the outset of my journalism career — a roller coaster ride that began nearly in concert with the first iPod landing on store shelves in October 2001 — I have lived life with one foot stuck in analog reality and the other planted in a digital future.

Journalism, particularly the newspaper kind, is steeped in tradition. We follow tried-and-true reporting and ethical standards, believe in the importance of an engaged free press to democracy and often (at least in the newsroom) focus more on our service to society than on fiscal models. And that’s where technology has taken its toll.

I spent the past decade and a half working in newsrooms packed with talented journalists who produce a timeless work product, but continually fall victim to outdated and clumsy delivery methods.

The fact is, the newspaper industry took a similar, albeit much more severe, drubbing from digital advancement than the music industry. Much of that beating was the result of institutional inertia multiplied by flailing into misguided attempts to catch a train that already chugged away from the station. Those missteps, a number of continued self-defeating new practices born from ill-conceived technologies and ongoing failure to create user-centric delivery of our industry’s most important product, triggered a 50 percent drop in newsroom employment during the past 15 years. That means half as many people are asking the questions that ensure a healthy democracy and educated electorate.

In the early days of my career, the basics — did I catch a typo or rewrite a headline — kept me awake at night. Today, I find myself staring toward a darkened ceiling at 4 a.m. wondering if we will find the technology that will ensure the future of journalism before there is nothing left to save.