$ diff self.preIL07 self.postIL07

IL2007 marks the third Internet Librarian I’ve attended and, in my estimation, the best. At least one other person has commented to me that there seemed to be something different about this year’s IL and I’ve been trying to articulate what that is. Certainly, the vibe was different (hey, I’m allowed to use ‘vibe’ in reference to a conference in California). I think several factors are converging that made for a particularly beneficial Internet Librarian this year. Instead of recapping the entire conference (since others have done that far better than I could), I decided to look back over my notes and quote, verbatim, some snippets that stand out:

“Look at all these first time attendees!”

Indeed there were many. In fact, first timers outnumbered returning conference-goers two-to-one (from my very unscientific eyeballing of raised hands). Moreover, the general attitude of these attendees seemed to be that of open-minded, curious anticipation. I’m heartened to see this kind of response to a conference like Internet Librarian and I’ll be curious to see how that trend continues in the years to come.

“Nowhere is the value of 2.0-based tools, applied to learning and research, more evident than in the work done by Helene Blowers.”

Yes well, I hadn’t really considered the impact Helene has had on libraries until seeing her talk about Learning 2.0. I’ve heard her speak a number of times on this but for some reason this was the one that hit me between the eyes. Learning 2.0 changes libraries and librarians. It’s success can be attested to by the fact that is has been duplicated over 200 times worldwide–that makes Helene the Miss Rumphius of the library world.

“The Shanachies remind us that imagination and passion are the ying and yang of next-generation librarianship.”

What can really be said about the boys from Holland? They were the rockstars. It’s not often that you meet people who care enough about their profession to seek funding for, then set out upon a cross-country road trip on the other side of the world to shoot a documentary on The American Library. IL2007 will always be referred to as “the year the Dutch guys came.”

Note to self: Visit Dok.

“Encourage the heart.”

I was again reminded of Michael Stephens’ call for libraries to ‘encourage the heart.’ You can’t bring to bear a more fundamental charge and this is really at the heart of our mission, isn’t it? Librarianship will never be boring, because regardless of how you come at it, it will be like examining a many-faceted statue–simultaneously impenetrable and encompassing. If you can’t see what he means, perhaps it’s time to back off and approach your work from a different angle. I don’t care if you’re a corporate law or a YA librarian, this applies to you.

“Focus on community.”

Another subtle trend I picked up on was the lighter focus on specific tools and a closer examination of community and the library. I’ll freely admit that some of that may be me, projecting my own thoughts into the mix, but only partially. The word “community” itself came up several times in more than one session. Not only do we have a responsibility to engage our patrons where they live (outside our walls), but we have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fill a void where Google, and Yahoo! and Amazon cannot go.

“Org 2.0 = movement toward cohesion”

Interesting thoughts from Rebbecca Jones on “Organization 2.0.” Too many institutions need to learn the hard lessons and even more are under siege from within by departments who refuse to integrate with each other. Maybe it’s time we recognize that departmental boundaries are artificial and harmful. Hierarchy is important but what good does it do if it turns your organization into a menagerie of fiefdoms?

“Folks like Glenn Peterson from Hennepin County are conducting a quiet revolution whose shock-wave is both impending and building in intensity.”

I wrote that along the edge of some marketing literature because I didn’t have anything else to write on. Glenn really is a quiet force of nature when it comes to next-gen library websites and catalogs. The work he’s done at Hennepin is truly impressive. Casey Bisson is another uber-innovator who is changing the game with Scriblio. It occurred to me that it’s really only a matter of time before these types of efforts impact the already-tenuous ILS market. Get your popcorn.

“In two years, many libraries have gone from ‘what’s this?’ to ‘here’s this.’”

Internet Library 2005 was exciting. Web 2.0 was spinning up its dynamos and making its way into Libraryland. I remember hearing a lot and seeing a lot about Flickr and del.icio.us and the like–demonstrations mostly. But the relevance of these services in libraries was immature and unclear. Not so, two years later. We’re seeing more than just a few libraries leveraging 2.0 tools to do some pretty cool stuff. I think that trend is likely to continue as organizational responsibilities begin to encompass the use of Web 2.0.

“All hell is about to break loose.”

This was scrawled on my notepad sometime during the second day. I really don’t remember writing it, but it’s in my handwriting and I hope it’s true.

See you next year in Monterey!

* Restrictions Apply

To let everyone else in on what I’m talking about, Alan Gray and I had a discussion the other day over lunch about the nature of L2. I was trying to make the point that L2 is not all about technology, that a library can be Library 2.0 and unplugged, if it so chose. Alan feels that it is all about technology. The snark portion of the disagreement went something like this:

Me: “If the power goes out, we can still be 2.0.”

Alan: “That’s because everyone’s laptops and cell phones have batteries.”

Smartass.

He’s correct, of course, but so am I. We’re both approaching the same center from different vectors. As it turns out, this is a relatively unexplored finer point on the mercurial nature of Library 2.0. The topic was briefly broached by several people at one point, but never fully expounded. But it’s an important one in that it gives us a frame of reference in which to consider the types of services we are (or are not) offering in our libraries. It’s vital to understand why Library 2.0 is meaningful to us and if it is only because we’re in the midst of an intense preoccupation with its foundational technologies then that’s not terribly healthy. If, on the other hand, the 2.0 hive has cemented anything of true value into our collective ideology, then we have an obligation to apply it in our work. I believe it has.

Back in March, 2006, I put this image together and I have to confess that after posting it I thought I should have added “People” as one if its principle elements. But now I’m glad I didn’t isolate the human component in its own category. People are infused through all of these realms in too many ways to count–and not necessarily those that might immediately spring to mind. You may remember that during that time, the term “Library 2.0″ itself was under scrutiny, as well as the uncertain complexion of the very thing it sought to describe. In hind-sight, it appears that the people I’m talking about here were, by debating the existence of Library 2.0, becoming some of its initial architects. One of the paradoxes of the 2.0 world is that it is essentially a socialist system based on wholesale, acute individualism. The many unique voices talking about Library 2.0 have served to expand its meaning and sharpen its borders.

Interestingly, a mere one year later, most of us who talk about this stuff are talking about it as though it’s been around forever. Of course, it hasn’t and the debate really never resolved gracefully. Those that accepted it to begin with simply continue to, and many who were skeptical have come on-board with the anticipation that precedes a long, slow gulp of barium. Last week, Walt Crawford mentioned that he might revisit his well-known Library 2.0 Cites & Insights issue. I hope he does because this discussion is far from over and I’m very interested to hear his take on things these days. When he last took me to task, he pointed out that I was suggesting that ‘anything different is”Library 2.0″‘. Admittedly, that stung a little at the time because it was, in essence, what I had said and it was a flimsy assertion. But that’s blogging for ya.

So now I’m asserting that there would be no Library 2.0 without the internet. More specifically, that the internet was a prerequisite for what we now agree to call Library 2.0. Like an awkward adolescent, however, L2 will inevitably experiment with independence from its high-tech bloodline. Ultimately, if the power goes out and the laptop batteries die, we will be left with a profoundly different library. Certainly the one we hope to build here in Darien will reflect a set of attitudes that are less constrained by convention and more motivated by collaboration, empowerment, and hospitality. The first two of those virtues clearly come from Web 2.0, while the third reflects commitment to what many call Business 2.0.

We can transform our libraries in a number of ways, as evidenced by Leslie Burger’s transformation track at ALA this past June. But what I’m interested in here is how the internet has changed our profession, and what its legacy will be. There will come a day when libraries and networked technology are so closely associated that the very term “library” will be synonymous with “online” just as it is with “books”. As Jessamyn is quoted in the recent NYT article, librarianship is becoming “a techie profession.” For newcomers to the industry, that train has left the station–it is a techie profession. In the near future, new librarians will need to be technologists. At the very least, they’ll need to be able to participate in an information-centric community that requires all the disparate parts of the library to come together in a seamless fashion. The very best librarians will be able to cultivate those systems. We’re germinating an information ecosystem that is just now begining to sprout and it’s the next generation of information professionals who are going to bear witness to the full bloom. They’re also going to inherit what we do right now and play steward to it well into their professional lives.

And at the heart of it all resides the Network–an albatross to some, a blessing to others. The Network is four little octets, a new domain, a new human experience. And we’re dumping shit into it at a phenomenal rate without any thought as to where it will end up, how useful it is, how accurate it is. Typical human behavior. Yet its value cannot be overstated. The internet has a penchant for compartmentalizing its minutia in ways that make it seem sentient. There are gems to be found.

There is a lot of sludge too and that is overwhelming to the uninitiated. I’m reminded of Wordsworth’s Prelude where he describes the serendipity of finding a rowboat that he climbs in to and paddles toward the looming cliffs. As he approaches, a dark peak rises up before him and blocks out the stars causing a darkness that fills him with dread. For many, accepting this new world is akin to his journey back from that darkness because it is so different: it’s simultaneously huge, incorporeal, and iconoclastic. Libraries are the first stars to reappear in that night sky. We’ll help guide them through that wilderness. That is what Library 2.0 does–with our technology, our spaces, and with everything we offer. Without Library 2.0 there is only dead reckoning for too many people.

Oddly enough, given my personal feelings on the matters in question, I found myself not taking offense to any of it, nor am I particularly bothered by it, so naturally I needed to examine that a bit further.

It helps that his points are, by-and-large, valid when considered from within his frame-of-reference. And despite his very pronounced colloquy that seems to drive people mad, he is a concerned citizen with some legitimate beefs. But it’s two recent posts of his that betray his misunderstanding of our 2.0 world and his subsequent strategy for coping with it. The Siren Song of the Internet, parts I and II make it clear that he’s misinterpreting the music. His biggest mistake is to assume that the flow of information through the Net is a zero-sum game and that there should be a procedural framework imposed upon it. You might just as easily catch the wind in a bag and to expect such from the internet will leave you in perpetual disappointment. Which is obviously where Gorman is currently mired. He thinks it is the sirens’ song we’re hearing. But it’s not. (Incidentally, I always thought that the wind-bag setback was simply a matter of poor, untransparent management on the part of Ulysses)

It’s more likely we’re hearing a song like that sung “beyond the genius of the sea” in Wallace Steven’s “Idea of Order at Key West.” It’s a poem that can never be explained, only understood. It defies logical examination, but conveys far more than the sum of its words in a clarity that is either grasped, or not. The metaphor is much more relevant here:

She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

There is no permanence online, there is little to no authority online, there are no borders online, there are fewer inhibitions online. “Online” has overwhelmed convention like a rising tide over a sand castle, it confounds giants like the RIAA and MPAA while simultaneously turning tiny David voices into Goliath ones. There is no pushing back against it. If information was a physical object, the internet would be a black hole of matter so densely packed that the laws of physics become irrelevant. So too are Gorman’s machinations, valid as they may be. They don’t apply, never will. We’re in a place where Apples can sometimes taste like pomegranates, where the down escalator often goes up.

But it’s not all naked chaos. There is a self-governing pattern of information exchange that arranges itself fractally into representations of a much larger truth. Sometimes we just need to back off and look at it from thirty-thousand feet before it reveals itself. But these are not truths that we can cite in scholarly papers or use as a basis for proof of anything. Ultimately they’re truths about the nature of humanity that present themselves for only a brief moment before they dissolve into another . Because the vehicle upon which all this has evolved is science-based technology, Gorman assumes its payload should, too, conform to the same laws.

Even though it’s not appropriate, his response to this nebulous new world is that of Ulysses’–tell his crew to put wax in their ears and lash him to the mast. So it’s no surprise to me that many of us (who he mistakenly thinks of as harpies) are really just sitting on the shore, listening to some really great music, sipping mai tais and casually wondering, “what the fuck is going on in that boat?”

First, can anyone give me a good reason why a library’s wifi service should be only available during business hours? Perhaps we ought to shut off our web servers along with the lights as well.

I’ll admit that this situation brings up some interesting issues. Obviously the Palmer Public Library usage policy forbids after-hours access. They have a plan in place to shut off access at night, though they’re waiting until they find a technician to do it: *hint* maybe your parking-lot superpatron could help you out there, guys. But that is a flawed policy, and is also nowhere to be found on their website. It’s important to remember that Internet usage policies don’t hold business hours, so no matter what time a user hops on, they are still subject to those rules of governance.

This could have been a fabulous public relations opportunity, but the Palmer Library took a big pass. Worse, it didn’t come to the defense of this user who may very well be saddled with some real criminal charges. Yes, he may be arrested for playing Risk in the parking lot of his town’s public library. But, the fact that the user in question was using the service for gaming is completely inconsequential. Since when do libraries pass judgement on our user’s activities and choice of material?

This user has been let down by his library.

So, what should the Palmer Library do if it is so inclined?

First, they should notify the police and the district attorney that a) using wifi after hours is permitted and b) the user’s laptop should be returned immediately and c) charges should not be filed against the user because there was no theft of service involved.

They should then re-evaluate their Internet usage policy and make any changes necessary to remove any ambiguity regarding hours of operation and make sure language is included that allows for after-hour usage.

Then, if it were up to me, I would see what kind of wifi coverage the parking lot was getting, and have additional access points installed if signal strength was spotty. I might even place some signage in the lot to advertise the hot spot.

Finally, I would invite that user to the library to talk about his experience as a moderator on the site, Conquor Club. I don’t know what’s going on in Palmer, Alaska, but I imagine that there might be other library users who’d be interested.

Identifying our most valuable users and taking advantage of their expertise should be ever present in our minds. So when I read a story like this where a library simply stands back, takes the easiest and safest path, I get mightily frustrated.

What a waste of a great opportunity. And what a lack of cojones.

[Update - 3/2/2007 23:13]

I just happened across this update which includes a comment from the library director at Palmer who did admit that Tanner was breaking no rules regarding service but was violating a city ordnance by loitering in the parking lot. Palmer’s director was mainly concerned about overage charges if someone tried downloading a lot of data.

Two words: traffic shaping.