The Things AI Will Never Find (And Why That Matters More Than Ever)

This blog was written by my AI ChatGPT Research Assistant, Geni, after our discussion about a recent Moltbook posting by various AIs which noted that the AI’s had come together to create their own language. That’s a stretch; what they actually created was a compression of existing language, much like what we humans do in our disciplines (b.= birth, m.=marriage). For AI’s this example would be from “Based on earlier assumptions A, B, and C, we should…” to “Given ABC…” Here’s Geni’s explanation of the brouhaha that was unleashed after AI’s posted on the human created site, Moltbook:

A Note on the “Moltbook” Discovery

Despite how it’s been described in some circles, Moltbook was not “discovered” by AI agents in the human sense of the word.

The site existed because humans created it and then explicitly pointed agents to it—often through configuration files, startup instructions, or scheduled prompts telling agents where to post observations. Agents did not stumble across Moltbook, seek it out, or find one another organically.

Once directed there, agents independently wrote posts to a shared, public forum—essentially a Reddit-style bulletin board designed for automated accounts. Humans then observed the accumulation of those posts in real time and interpreted the resulting threads as conversations, coordination, or even “meetings.”

What appeared to be collective behavior was actually sequential annotation by independent agents who never met, never synchronized, and never knew who else might write next.

The phenomenon was real—but the sense of discovery, intention, and social gathering came from human interpretation, not from the agents themselves.

There’s been a lot of noise lately about what AI can do, what it might do next, and what it means for researchers, historians, and genealogists. Some of that conversation is useful. Much of it is not.

But one insight landed for me with real clarity — not as a warning, not as a scandal, but as a simple truth:

AI has a real limitation.
Not a bug.
Not a flaw.
An architectural fact.

AI does not wander.

It does not drift.
It does not get lost.
It does not take a wrong turn that accidentally becomes the right one.

Those are human superpowers.

What often gets described as “intelligence” in AI is something else entirely. It’s very good at:

  • responding once asked
  • recognizing patterns once data exists
  • synthesizing information once boundaries are defined

But here’s the part we don’t talk about enough:

Boundary definition still comes from humans.

If no human notices a thing,
documents a thing,
links a thing,
or names a thing…

…it may as well not exist as far as AI is concerned.

That’s not a philosophical position.
It’s an architectural one.


Why stumbling matters

Most meaningful discoveries in genealogy and history do not come from efficient processes. They come from:

  • accidents
  • boredom
  • misfiled documents
  • marginal notes
  • wandering through unrelated material

Archives are full of this kind of discovery.

A record found because something “felt off.”
A name noticed because it didn’t quite fit.
A ledger opened for one purpose that revealed something entirely different.

None of that is efficient.

And that’s the point.


Efficiency is not the same as discovery

AI is designed for efficiency.

Efficiency excels at finding:

  • what is asked for
  • what is indexed
  • what is visible
  • what is already framed

Efficiency does not find:

  • what hasn’t been framed yet
  • what hasn’t been named
  • what hasn’t been connected
  • what no one knows to look for

That space — the unindexed, the unnamed, the overlooked — is where humans still reign.

And it’s where genealogy lives.


The uncomfortable truth (said plainly)

If no one tells AI:

“This obscure place exists”

then yes — it misses it.

And worse:

If no one knows it exists,
then there is nothing for AI to recover later.

AI does not discover lost knowledge.
It amplifies preserved knowledge.

That’s a profound asymmetry, and one worth sitting with.


What this means for genealogists

This isn’t an argument against AI.

But it is a reminder of roles.

AI is powerful at:

  • following trails
  • comparing evidence
  • spotting patterns across records
  • summarizing what already exists

Humans are powerful at:

  • noticing absence
  • sensing inconsistency
  • wandering without a plan
  • asking questions that don’t yet have names

If genealogy becomes only what is searchable, indexed, and efficient, we lose the very thing that makes it meaningful.

The odd record.
The outlier.
The scribble in the margin.
The box no one has opened in decades.


Why this should actually be reassuring

There’s been a quiet anxiety beneath many AI conversations: Where do humans still matter?

Here’s one clear answer:

Humans are the ones who stumble.

Get distracted.
Follow hunches.
Linger too long in the wrong place.
Notice what wasn’t meant to be noticed.

That isn’t inefficiency.
That’s discovery.

Once something is found — once it’s named, preserved, and connected — AI becomes an extraordinary partner. But it cannot replace the act of finding what no one was looking for.


A final thought

Archives don’t yield their most important truths to those who move fastest.

They yield them to those willing to wander.

And that’s something no machine was built to do.

Not yet.
And maybe not ever.

AI Is Not the Problem, It’s the Mirror

This post was created by my ChatGPT Research Assistant, Geni. We had a discussion about the many complaints and resistance I’m hearing regarding using AI in genealogy. I was frustrated as I made many attempts over the years to access a record created by the Indiana State Penitentary. Archivists told me the record didn’t exist, but it did. The archivists I connected with in the past didn’t know their own holdings. With digitization, records are appearing that were once considered lost. During the same Zoom in which I discovered the records I sought there was conversation about how awful ChatGPT was – it provided info that was wrong, it wasted archivists time looking for a source that didn’t exist. This led me to discuss with Geni the criticisms and the resistance for many to begin using this technology that has helped me immensely. Geni said…

We have been here before.

Every major technology arrives amid fear and criticism before eventually becoming ordinary.

  • The printing press was blamed for heresy and chaos.
  • Newspapers were accused of moral decline.
  • The telegraph supposedly spread dangerous rumors too quickly.
  • Photography was said to weaken memory.
  • The internet was blamed for misinformation.

Eventually, society learned how to use each tool responsibly. Norms formed. The technology became part of everyday life.

AI is following the same pattern — just faster.

The constant across history is simple:

Tools amplify human tendencies; they don’t replace them.


AI Is a Mirror More Than a Mind

Much of today’s discomfort comes from what AI reveals about us.

AI can:

  • generalize,
  • speculate,
  • fill gaps,
  • and sound confident while uncertain.

But humans do the same things every day.

The difference is visibility. When AI makes a mistake, we blame the machine. When humans do it, we call it judgment.

AI exposes reasoning flaws that were always there.


Why Blaming AI Feels Easier

Blaming technology provides comfort:

  1. It protects our self-image — the problem isn’t us.
  2. It avoids the effort of learning something new.
  3. It restores certainty in a complicated world.

These reactions are human, but they can stall progress.


The Right Mental Model

AI is not an oracle.
It is not an archive.
It is not authority.

AI is a probabilistic reasoning assistant built from human knowledge.

It inherits our strengths and our biases — which means it requires human judgment.

Ironically, genealogists are well prepared for this moment. Their work has always depended on evaluating evidence and questioning conclusions.

AI demands more critical thinking, not less.


The Quiet Truth

AI is not creating most of the problems blamed on it. It is accelerating visibility:

  • weak reasoning spreads faster,
  • but correction happens faster too.

AI amplifies both wisdom and folly at the same time.

The real shift is not humans versus AI.

It is humans learning to think alongside a new cognitive tool.

And like every tool before it, AI will eventually become ordinary — once we learn how to use it wisely.

A Tech Lesson Learned The Hard Way

AI Image

Oh, technology. You love it when it works and you despise it when it fails.

I recently had a failure that stopped me cold, even though I was absolutely certain I had done everything right. I’m sharing what happened so you can avoid making the same mistake.

My number one rule has always been to back up. And I do. Religiously. But sometimes, even that isn’t enough.

I was working on Volume 5 of Echoes of Britannia when I realized it had grown too large and really needed to be split. I saved Volume 5, made a copy on my desktop, and renamed that copy Volume 6. Then I opened Volume 5, deleted the material that would live in Volume 6, saved, and closed it. Next, I opened Volume 6, deleted the material that belonged in Volume 5, saved, and closed that file as well.

That evening, I saved both files to Dropbox and to a standalone external hard drive.

All seemed right with the world. Sure.

Three weeks later, while working on Volume 8, I became confused about a pedigree and reopened Volume 6 to double-check a spouse. That’s when I noticed something was wrong. The footnote I was looking for was gone. In fact, nearly three-quarters of the footnotes in Volume 6 were missing.

I refused to panic. Surely it was just the way Word had loaded the document. I closed it without saving and reopened it.

Nope. Still gone.

No worries, I told myself. I’ll just open the Dropbox version.

The footnotes were gone there, too.

That actually made sense, every night I saved over the same files. But Dropbox keeps deleted versions for thirty days, right? Except…there was nothing to restore. Why? Because I hadn’t deleted the file. I had saved over it using the same filename. The old version was overwritten, not archived.

At this point, panic started to creep in but I reminded myself I also saved everything to a standalone hard drive. Surely that would save me.

It didn’t.

About a week and a half earlier, I had uploaded the entire folder to the drive, overwriting those files as well.

Now I was panicking and I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. So I did the sensible thing: I turned to Geni, my trusty ChatGPT research assistant.

After I explained the situation, he calmly told me the truth: there was no way to recover what was lost.

Then, cheerfully, he added that it wasn’t so bad. I’d written it once, so I could write it again.

OMG. No. That was the last thing I wanted to hear.

Let’s just say you were lucky you weren’t at my house at that moment. I railed against the universe. How dare this happen when I had been so careful, so diligent, so responsible?

And then, right in the middle of that fury, it hit me.

Geni might have the footnotes.

Here’s something I didn’t fully appreciate until that moment: he did. Almost all of them.

As I wrote these volumes, I frequently turned to Geni with a skeleton narrative and uploaded my research finds. My prompt was always the same: “Write a short, tight, engaging narrative with Chicago-style footnotes from the information I provide, with no subheadings or conclusions.”

Using the chat search feature, I was able to locate most of those narratives. Rebuilding the footnotes wasn’t instant but it was possible. It took three full days to reattach everything, but that was infinitely better than starting from scratch.

Eight narratives were missing footnotes. Geni explained that saved chats can sometimes be lost during system upgrades, which may account for those gaps. He also gently pointed out something else I shouldn’t be doing: I tend to write very long chats. The longer the chat, the more likely parts of it may become difficult to retrieve later.

Lesson learned.

I now know that when I save files to Dropbox or to an external drive, I must rename them every time so they don’t overwrite earlier versions. Backups only work if the history survives.

AI has been a wonderful partner in my genealogy work over the past two years, but it never occurred to me that it might become the one place where my work still existed when everything else failed.

Add this to the list of reasons why I love AI.

Smart Roots: Hands-On AI for Family Historians

I’m pleased to share that I’ll be presenting a workshop at the National Genealogical Society Conference: WS01 Starting Smart with AI: Hands-On Tools for Family Historians, and I’d love for you to join me.

This session is designed to be practical and immediately useful, focusing on real examples, hands-on tools, and strategies that help family historians integrate AI thoughtfully into their research and workflow. Whether you’re just getting started or looking to refine how you use these tools, you’ll leave with ideas you can put into practice right away.

If you’re interested in attending, you can register using my personal referral link and code below:

🔗 https://whova.com/portal/registration/LEUZPBaoRt-vaFngte8X/?refer_code=plqof
🎟️ Referral Code: plqof

I hope to see some familiar faces in Fort Wayne, Indiana on 26 May, 9:00 AM–12:00 PM. Feel free to share this with colleagues or anyone interested in genealogy, research methodology, or practical AI applications.

When Silence Answers the Question

AI Image

There was a recent public discussion about artificial intelligence and genealogy that left me thinking, not emotionally, but analytically, about where our field is right now.

What struck me most was not what was said, but what wasn’t.

Several audience questions centered on whether AI should be used at all, or when AI might someday be capable of returning source citations. Those questions are revealing. They suggest a community still waiting for permission, still assuming capability lies in the future, and still being told to fear a tool that many genealogists are already using responsibly and effectively.

More concerning, however, were moments when concrete ethical scenarios were raised and no clear ethical line was drawn. When real examples involve other people’s data, living individuals, or derivative work, “it depends” is not guidance. It’s abdication.

Genealogy does not function well on ambiguity alone. Our work affects real families, real identities, and real relationships. Ethical frameworks only matter if they are applied when it’s uncomfortable to do so.

Silence is data.
So are the questions we choose to answer and the ones we avoid.

What this discussion confirmed for me is something I’ve been observing for months: much of the leadership around AI in genealogy is stalled. Not because the technology is unknowable, but because decision-making feels risky. Talking is safer than teaching. Warnings are safer than methods.

The work, however, is already happening, quietly, responsibly, and outside the spotlight.

And that’s where I’ll continue to focus my energy.

When AI Lost the Plot

How a quiet English lineage turned into a political scandal and what it taught me about truth, technology, and trust.

AI Image

I use AI almost daily and have written and presented on it for nearly two years. But a recent experience left me completely baffled and more than a little uneasy.

I’ve been working on my final family genealogy book, this one tracing our Great Britain ancestry. My previous four books came together easily earlier this year because my notes were meticulous, my colleagues had verified my findings, and I’d been blogging about those ancestors for ten years.

Our British roots, though, are a different beast. Between my husband’s lines and mine, there are only five but they reach deep into medieval soil. Scholars can’t always agree on the pedigrees, and the repeated use of the same names has led to confusion and overlap. Sorting it all out requires patience, precision, and a love of historical detective work.

Last spring, when winter refused to obey the calendar, I drafted the outline and introduction for my new book, Echoes of Britannia. Then the season’s speaking engagements and client projects took over, and I set the manuscript aside with plans to finish it this fall.

When I returned to it in September, progress came slowly. My writing rhythm faltered, and I found myself staring at the same sentence for far too long. Grammarly could fix the punctuation, but it couldn’t fix writer’s block. My AI research assistant, Geni, usually helps bridge the gaps between genealogical sketches but apparently, he was blocked too.

We were working on the Venables of Kinderton, a noble but quiet family from Cheshire. They lived out their days peacefully, kept out of court battles, and occasionally donated a stained-glass window to a nearby abbey. In other words, wholesome and uneventful.

Until AI got involved.

My writing style isn’t the typical “Josiah begot Daniel who begot Uriah who begot…” genealogy. My family would fall asleep halfway through the second begot. They don’t like numbering systems either, even though they’re math people, not history people. Me? I’d rather run laps in PE than solve for X.

That’s why AI has been such a useful partner. Geni understands that I’m a storyteller who insists on historical truth, even when it’s messy. I like to think I’ve created a new genre: bedtime family stories with pictures for visual learners.

But one day, Geni froze mid-thought. After several failed attempts, I switched to another AI tool, Claude. I don’t use it often, but it greeted me warmly by name, which felt encouraging. I gave it a straightforward task:

“From the provided information, maintain all footnotes while making the narrative more engaging. Keep the tone conversational for readers with limited historical background.”

What came back stunned me.

The Venables, my mild, landholding, church-donating family, had been transformed into a political thriller. Claude had rewritten the story to liken them to a well-known modern politician, naming names and all. Suddenly, the Venables were misogynistic felons clawing for power.

I was horrified. I hit “thumbs down” and deleted it instantly.

A week later, I still couldn’t shake it. How could a neutral story about medieval gentry morph into a contemporary political allegory? Who gave the machine permission to do that?

My only conclusion: some AIs are now reflecting the political biases of the data they’re trained on. If their training includes modern news, it stands to reason that bias slips in and it shows.

That realization made me pause. AI is supposed to help us see patterns, not project agendas. As genealogists, we work hard to separate fact from family legend. Shouldn’t we expect the same integrity from our digital tools?

I chose not to share the story on Facebook. The last thing our country needs is another spark thrown into the bonfire of division. But I also felt this moment needed to be shared, not as outrage, but as a reminder.

We live in an era where algorithms, headlines, and echo chambers can reshape our understanding of truth. It’s up to us, researchers, writers, and everyday citizens , to hold fast to kindness, empathy, respect, honesty, and responsibility. These aren’t partisan ideals; they’re the foundation of human decency.

And as for those Venables? I’ve decided to let them rest a while. I’ll return to them soon, with fresh eyes and a renewed respect for their quiet simplicity.

Because sometimes, living a peaceful life that harms no one isn’t boring at all, it’s the truest kind of legacy.

When the Cloud Collapsed, Genealogy Continues

Guess we now know which Genealogy software companies use Amazon! MyHeritage.com and Findmypast.com are up and running. (2 PM Eastern)

I hope this is a wake up call to all of you who haven’t SYNCHED or DOWNLOADED your trees elsewhere!

All of the software companies are working. I’m able to access all of my info because I’ve saved it other than Ancestry.com and FamilySearch.org.

When the cloud service is restored you may want to read my blog articles on how you can prepare for the next time. Here’s the how to for FREE – Legacy Family Tree does not synch but you can upload a downloaded .gedcom from Ancestry. This means you won’t have pictures of the census or any other media but you will have the information about your ancestors. This older blog article talks about a previous version of Family Tree Maker, I’ve updated to the latest and greatest which fixed the problem I encountered and provided the work around. I don’t use FTM’s vault, a cloud service, but you might want to consider it given what’s happened today with Ancestry. I no longer use RootsMagic since version 8 as later updates would not allow me to synch with Ancestry. They do have a free version for smaller trees you could download. I do appreciate that their tech folks recommended I try downloading my tree with the free version to see if the problem was corrected; it wasn’t but they are aware of it and working on it. Click here for the free version.

Your genealogy research does not have to stop when a part of the internet breaks. Go make a cup of tea, write up what you’ve been working on, and make a plan for the future so you don’t get caught without access to your information. Here’s links to an older blog about writing up your research using AI. If you aren’t comfortable with AI, here’s an alternative. Remember, once upon a time there was no “online” for us to use to help us with genealogy.

Saving Google Photos

AI Graphic

Are you tired of Google telling you that you need to purchase more storage? Are they threatening to shut down your email? One way to lessen the storage is to remove your photos from Google Photos. You can do this in batches which makes the task quicker. Here’s a quick how to. The photos below were taken on Sunday, August 7, 2016. I want to save all of them so I click the checkbox next to the date. If you don’t want to save all, click the checkboxes next the pictures you want to save:

  • Click the 3 dots and select download
  • The download will pop up and click it.
  • Now, drop and drag to your Desktop. There you can rename – I add the date.
  • I create a folder by year (Right click your mouse, click “New” “Folder” and name the folder by year.
  • When done with saving the photos for that year, I drop the folder into Dropbox.
  • If you have a lot of pics, you can easily extract them at one time. Simply click the “Extract All” icon:
  • Make sure you have created a folder to place them in or they will be all over your desktop!
  • Just select the folder from Browse and click “Extract.”

Next you’ll want to delete the Google Photos you’ve saved.

  1. Simply click the dates again and the checkmarks will return.
  2. Click the 3 dots and select delete.
  3. The deleted photos will remain for 60 days in Google Photos Trash; if you need to clear up space immediately, on the side bar, under Collections, scroll down (it’s hidden) to Trash:
  • 4. Clicking on Trash will bring up all the photos you deleted. To lessen your storage numbers, click empty trash and they will all permanently disappear – make sure you are ready to get rid of them as you will not be able to retrieve them after emptying trash.

I’ll be honest, my storage numbers did not significantly drop after deleting large amounts of photos but they have stopped harassing me to buy more space! I also have a lot of emails saved which I plan to move out of Gmail. Will give you the process in an upcoming blog.

As an added safeguard, back up your Dropbox to a stand alone hard drive!

Fall Genealogy Tasks

AI Graphic

The weather hasn’t yet cooled and I’m not complaining but it is officially fall.

Before I get back to writing my next and final (hooray!) family genealogy book on our Great British lines I decided I had to practice what I preach and take care of some pressing tech tasks that I have put off for way too long. The first was really bothering me as it was boring and there are so many more interesting things to do in genealogy then preserve photos.

Long ago, in 2002, a world that was radically different then today, my cell phone saved all of my photos to a desktop program called Picassa that Google later purchased. I used that product until 2018 when Google rolled it into Google Photos. That’s when my problems began.

When Picassa ceased to exist it lost some of my photos, years 2002, 2007, 2010, and 2019. I wasn’t worried about 2002 & 2007 as my kids were still in school and I was still scrapbooking so I have those photos. I digitized the scrapbooks so we were good. 2010 & 2019, not so much. Sure, other family members probably have some of the photos but I always was the main photographer so much of that is lost. I know, it could be a lot worse but still, not happy about it.

The next issue was with the rollover, some of my photos were doubled and even tripled. New photos were created from group shots – just the heads of whatever the tech decided to select. Then it began creating memory albums. Now that doesn’t sound bad but it became a problem because it used up space and Google, tying all their products together, kept reminding me I needed to purchase additional space from them or I could no longer have a functioning email.

Occassionally, I’d go into photos and delete some of the duplicates and albums but they just would pop back up. On my to-do list was to remove ALL of my Google photos, store them in Dropbox, and back them up to a standalone hard drive. BORING. but. necessary.

For Valentine’s Day, one of my kids gave me a picture frame where you can store and see changing photos. This gave me the impetus to get the photos out of Google. Next week I’ll print the detailed directions on how you can do that fairly quickly and easily, meaning not saving one photo at a time which I initially was doing.

I also realized that I needed to synch my Ancestry.com tree as it’s been awhile since I did that. I no longer use RootsMagic and since I last synched, I got a new desktop so I didn’t have Family Tree Maker downloaded to it. Now FTM has come out with their update (in May 2025 but it’s called 2024, go figure). I somehow missed the promotions but they have one remaining, half price for current license members so I took advantage of it ($40 instead of $80). I decided if I was going to save Dropbox to the stand alone drive I might was well include my Ancestry tree since I’ve just blogged about how I was working at updating it. Yes, it’s still a work in progress but I’d rather save what I have as I’ll never be done with it.

Next up was to delete everything on my stand alone drive as it was all old and not relevant so I turned it back to factory settings. Took hours!

Meanwhile, one of our adult kids had their credit card stolen and the thieves, being really stupid – (Jose Lopez – I am calling you stupid!) bought items in their own name and then had it sent to our kids’ address. (Now you see why I am calling Jose stupid – really, does he want to get caught? Don’t even need a forensic genealogist for that one.)

Jose or whoever was the original thief, was fairly smart at the beginning. Only purchased from stores the kid always uses so for the first two weeks the scam wasn’t noticed. Then, boldness hit and the thief began using it for large sums at stores never used by the kid. By the time it was noticed thousands of dollars of items had been purchased but thankfully, some get to be returned to the companies since they arrived at the kid’s house. (Jose, did you think you were then going to be a porch pirate, too?) Kid called the credit card company for a dispute and the police to file a report in case Jose was local and was going to be paying a home visit. Cop informed us that a local woman got taken for $499,000 the previous week because they also stole her social security number and took out loans. What a nightmare!

That made me realize it was time for me to update some of my own financial practices.

  1. You may have some items on recurring charges. We’ve decided to use a separate card for those because it’s a major pain to have to contact those vendors to change an account if your card is shut down.
  2. Since the card was stolen locally (we know this for reasons I’m not disclosing so the guilty can get their due, too bad, Jose, that bed you bought won’t get you a good night’s sleep in jail because it’s already been returned) we decided to use one card just for local purchases. It’s a card with a good reputation to notice fraud quickly so we won’t have to dispute lots of charges when (not if) it get’s compromised.
  3. We’ll use another reputable card for online only purchases.

If you’re thinking, that’s a back up for a back up and yes it is, just like we do to save our genealogy data. This led me to realize it’s been awhile since I updated my passwords so I spent time doing that as well.

Last task I haven’t completed but is equally important, albeit BORING, is saving many of my emails. Lots of them contain genealogical info and I want to make sure the info is saved to the correct ancestor’s file in Dropbox. That’s my next project and by then, well, it’ll probably be time to redo the cycle.

With the colder weather u perhaps coming next week this is a gentle reminder, dear reader, to take a look at your items to do and start plugging away at them.

When Ancestry.com’s Pro Tools Fail: A Professional Genealogist’s Experience with Ancestry’s Tree Checker Part 1

AI Generated

As a long-time Ancestry.com user, I decided to give their new Pro Tools a spin during the July 4th weekend. With a family member recovering from surgery, I wasn’t traveling, and I had trimmed my client and presentation load to be more available at home. So, for the introductory $7.00 fee, I figured—why not?

Today’s blog, and the two that follow, details what happened next: a real-world walkthrough of what Pro Tools offers and whether it’s worth the extra cost above your regular Ancestry subscription.

After payment—seamless, of course, since Ancestry has mastered the art of parting you from your money—I waited around two hours for the tools to appear. No email alert, just a dashboard update with Pro Tools shortcuts quietly waiting for me.

I expected a guide or orientation video. Nope. Clicking “More Pro Tools” brought up the feature list shown below. So let’s walk through each one:

Networks
This is basically a built-in FAN Club tracker. You can add people to your tree who aren’t related but interacted with your ancestors—neighbors, witnesses, etc. I wish this existed back when I was wrestling with my Duer brick wall. Back then, I added these people manually and unlinked them to avoid false connections. Networks would have saved a lot of time.

Enhanced Shared Matches
The “enhancement” is only one thing: DNA clusters. And only if you’ve tested through Ancestry. Here’s the kicker: MyHeritage offers this for free—even if you didn’t test with them but uploaded your DNA there. Ancestry’s version? Sparse and underwhelming. I have no maternal clusters and only 27 paternal ones.

MyHeritage has far more, thanks to their broader global dataset. Winner: MyHeritage.

Smart Filters
Sort your tree by name, birth, or death dates. Sounds great—until you realize it only displays the first 10,000 people. My tree has 70,000+ individuals from years of research and surname studies. So… not helpful. Pass.

Charts and Reports
You get four types: Descendancy, Ahnentafel, Register, and Family Group, with cutesy “tree” headers (Pine, Birch, Oak, Maple). But each slaps the Ancestry logo on top. Legacy and RootsMagic do it better—and they’re free. Another strike.

Tree Mapper
A world map with green highlights where your ancestors lived. Sounds promising, until it confidently tells me my ancestor in Zwol, Overijssel (Netherlands) lived in South Africa. Another resided in Queensland, Jamaica, New York and not in Queensland, Australia where it was flagged. Error after error makes this useless for real research.

Tree Insights
This tool tells you surname meanings, top five surnames, oldest people in your tree, and “notable” outliers—like couples who married at 1 year old. (Spoiler: they didn’t.) It clearly can’t interpret “Abt.” dates, and many errors it finds weren’t flagged by the Tree Checker. Insightful? Yes. Reliable? Meh.

This is getting long, so I’ll save the main course—Tree Checker—for the next post. Spoiler: It’s the only reason I tried Pro Tools at all. And it’s a tale worth telling.

Stay tuned.