In the grand old game, where every inch of the strike zone has long belonged to the eyes and instincts of the men in blue, Major League Baseball now stands on the precipice of one of its most profound changes. Rob Manfred, the sport’s commissioner, has signaled his intention to introduce the Automated Ball-Strike system — ABS — to the major leagues in 2026. And with it comes a collision between the timeless rhythms of the game and the cold precision of modern technology.

The proposal is not full automation — at least not yet. Human umpires will still call balls and strikes, but with a twist: each team will have two opportunities per game to challenge a call, relying on technology that has been road-tested in the minor leagues and spring training. If a manager believes a pitch was ruled incorrectly, a simple gesture will trigger the system. If the challenge proves correct, the call is overturned and the challenge preserved. If not, one of the limited lifelines vanishes — a chess match layered atop the cat-and-mouse game between pitcher and hitter.

Manfred, never one to hide his growing appetite for modernizing baseball’s on-field product, claims his inbox has filled with fans voicing their frustrations with the current state of ball-strike calls. In his words, "using ABS in spring training has made people more prone to complain." Yet, for many players, the change represents something far more consequential than email grumblings — it is a shift that strikes at the heart of the game's delicate balance between human judgment and digital certainty.

Therein lies the tension. Players on the competition committee, already wary of Manfred’s wave of rule changes — from pitch clocks to ghost runners — now face yet another potential disruption. As negotiations loom for a new collective bargaining agreement following the 2026 season, this proposal carries not only competitive implications but labor ones. But Manfred, emboldened by the league’s right under the current CBA to fast-track rule changes, appears unflinching. "We bargained for the right to make these kind of rule changes," he said, plainly signaling that technological progress will not wait for labor peace.

Beyond the immediate debate lies an even larger philosophical question: what becomes of the strike zone itself? For over a century, it has been a living, breathing thing — slightly tighter here, slightly looser there — depending on the count, the umpire, even the day. ABS threatens to replace that living organism with an absolute: a computerized zone indifferent to narrative, nuance, or human fallibility. Manfred admits that reconciling those subtleties with player acceptance remains his biggest concern as the league moves forward.

​And still, this may only be the beginning. While ABS takes center stage, MLB is also quietly experimenting with a check-swing review system in the minor leagues — another potential technological wrinkle down the road. But for now, Manfred insists on a deliberate approach. “We really got to think that one through,” he said, knowing full well that layering too many new systems at once could overwhelm a sport already wrestling with its identity in an age of digital perfection.