It’s easy to become enamored of social networking sites and Web 2.0 toys to the point where they seem like a panacea for everything that’s wrong with your library or your job. Slap a wiki on it and call me in the morning. The most successful uses of the newest tech tools have recognized that they’re just that: tools.

I’ve been feeling, for awhile now, that the term Library 2.0 has been co-opted by a growing group of libraries, librarians, and particularly vendors to push an agenda of “change” that deflects attention from some very real issues and concerns without really changing anything. It’s very evident in the profusity of L2-centric workshops and conferences that there is a significant snake-oil market in the bibliosphere. We’re blindly casting about for a panacea and it’s making us look like fools.

Ignoring the information ecology

Perhaps the most significant area of neglect is our failure to recognize that Library 2.0 is a delicate ecology. Like Web 2.0, it represents technology that is inherently disruptive on many levels. Not only does Web 2.0 undermine notions of authority and control, but its economic and human costs are very real. There is, indeed, something very exciting about the fact that Google bought YouTube for $1.65 Billion–especially since it was only a company of sixty-odd employees. But at the same time, I’m a little alarmed that sixty-odd people could dominate such a large piece of that market-share. Not for the same reason that we have (soon to have had) the FCC’s media ownership rule, but because the force of that type of change has to be felt somewhere. Think of it in terms of a bag of nitrate dumped in a stream–the algae does really well, but the fish suffocate.

Luckily, Web 2.0 as a whole exists in a large, rather well-insulated economy that will adjust over time. Libraries, on the other hand, are significantly more delicate ecosystems that require more care and discretion. Specifically, we need to understand how our internal information ecology works and how to tend to it. How and where we interface with our users is where the rubber meets the road and should merit a little more thought then simply thrusting a MySpace page in their face or building a new library in Second Life–a service our users overwhelmingly do not use and, which seems to me, like a creepy post-apocalyptic wasteland. I’ll even turn the tables on myself and admit that I was wrong about local tagging in the OPAC. SOPAC was by-and-large a success, but its use of user-contributed tags is a failure. For the past nine months, the top ten tags have included “fantasy”, “manga”, “anime”, “time travel”, “shonen”, “shonen jump”, and “shape-changing”. As a one-time resident of Ann Arbor, I can assure you that these are not topics that dominated the collective hive mind. Well, maybe time travel, if hash-bash was going on.

So we need to understand that, while it’s alright to tip the balance and fail occasionally, we’re more likely to do so if we’re arbitrarily introducing technology that isn’t properly integrated into our overarching information framework. Of course, that means we have to have a working framework to begin with that compliments and adheres to our tradition of solid, proven librarianship. In other words, when we use technology, it should be transparent, intuitive, and a natural extension of the patron experience. If it can’t be transparent, then it should be so overwhelmingly beneficial to the user that it is canonized not by the techies, but the users themselves.

You can’t buy Library 2.0

…And vendors, you can’t sell it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be attempted. I think perhaps there is an expectation that real-life should somehow mimic the success of the software plug-in model. There may be something to be said for the “object-oriented” library, but that is a far cry from stuffing a new product into an already-awkward, malformed, and ill-suited portfolio. For example, third-party OPACs, as they are currently being sold to us, are likely to fail. Not because they are inherently bad products–some are, some aren’t, but because the companies producing them are only mimicking the Web 2.0 widget–the deliverable. What they are not doing is reevaluating their business and development processes with the goal of realigning them with the interests of libraries. I discussed the pressing need for significant development partnerships back in the July 2007 issue of LJ’s NetConnect and I still believe that that particular model for collaboration is the only way to significantly improve our ability to embed technology in the library. It’s not a long-term viable solution to sell the concept of development partnership when all it really is is just the opportunity to report bugs on software that is not quite ready for prime time.

As libraries, we need to realize that the answers to our larger questions cannot be found out on the exhibitor’s floor. That’s where we find solutions to specific needs that have been identified by a thorough self-examination.

Meeting technology half-way

Don’t hold your breath waiting for technology to adapt to the library environment. Web 2.0 did not evolve with libraries in mind, and there’s no reason to think that it ever will. I realize that, at first glance, that statement seems to run counter to what I’ve been saying with regards to not forcing a square peg into a round hole. What I mean is that we cannot expect to retrofit our libraries with tomorrow’s technology. The true pursuit of Library 2.0 involves a thorough recalibration of process, policy, physical spaces, staffing, and technology so that any hand-offs in the patron’s library experience are truly seamless. We can learn a lot about collaboration and individual empowerment from Web 2.0, but we cannot be subsumed by it because we have a mission that eclipses “don’t be evil” which is the closest thing to a conscience the Web will ever have.

$ 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!

Attendance at Library Camp NYC was quite large (100+ people!) which certainly tested the open spaces concept. The 14th floor of Baruch’s vertical campus building was well equipped to handle the crowd, however, and a number of really great sessions were spawned. The only drawback of the unconference format, I’ve found, is that I always find myself wanting to be in two or three places at once. You can take a look at how the final program evolved on the event wiki.

During the first session, I attended ‘Library 2.0 show and tell‘ which focused a lot on wikis and some other specific technologies. The group also touched on topics such as how to get staff/patrons to buy-in to new services. I also attended a session led by OCLC’s Eric Hellman on their grid services concept (xISBN, etc). I think I enjoyed the final session the most, however, which was a discussion about cataloging and Weinberger‘s Everything is Miscellaneous.

A great day, and I’m sure we’ll see more library camps in the future.

For one thing, asking “how 2.0 are you?” suggests that there is some metric by which 2.0-ness can be established. That, in turn, would assume that Library 2.0 is a defined and measurable corporeality with quantifiable properties. Reading David’s post, I recalled a conversation I had with Stephen Abram quite some time ago where he said he was once asked, “is [so-and-so] Library 2.0-compliant?” Sure, and there is ISO certification for it too. Remember Mr. Ramsay’s relentless (and ultimately absurd) obsession with completing his philosophical treatises from A to Z? (Bonus points if you do, indeed, remember that) There is no Yardstick 2.0, simply a gradual emergence through a particularly interesting paradigm shift.

Steve Lawson is the closest to touching on this in his response:

I object when people treat “2.0” as if it were something that exists in some platonic sense. If you want to talk about 2.0 as a group of tools or techniques or ideas, I’m ready to talk. If you want to talk about it as if it were a state of nirvana that we are all striving toward–as something that one either “gets” or doesn’t “get”–I’m out. I don’t “get it.”

Except that David did not suggest, in any way, that L2 = Nirvana. In fact, his original post was a relatively heuristic glance at ‘L2ness’. The problem with it was that it landed in the no-mans-land between the abstract and the practical. There is, indeed, an existential component to Library 2.0, but it’s the same aesthetic that drives all librarians into the profession–chances are, if you’re reading this, it’s in you regardless of your thoughts on L2. What makes Library 2.0 different is that we can manifest that passion to share and broker knowledge in a fantastically new egalitarian space. We’re also more comfortable with the idea of non-authoritative information being valuable, which is a very important distinction because it means we’re willing to let the information itself be the experience. The 2.0 librarian is willing to reconcile the traditional instinct to provide certified information with the desire to swim in the ocean of transient data. The ability to do that is what, I think, distinguishes the 2.0 librarian from the 1.0. The Michael Gormans and Andrew Keens of the world have very valid points that nobody should dismiss–quite the opposite, we ought to be listening to them carefully so that we don’t bounce off the atmosphere and tumble off into space–but they are unable to, or haven’t been open to processing that concept. When David writes, ‘The Lightbulb – This is a major point on the Library 2.0 spectrum. Something “clicks” – The library/librarian realizes that the organization/librarian needs to change to meet emerging customer needs,’ I think he’s talking about this–sort of like the moment when a stereogram springs to life.

Additionally, the spectrum is not a very good way to represent Library 2.0-ness. I think Kathryn Greenhill hit the nail on the head on her Flickr comment when she asked, “Nice image…Is it more an evolution than a spectrum? I don’t think librarians would be going back to the left once they moved further toward the right…” and this gem as well, “Getting really abstract..I think it’s probably linear until that “click” moment, and then it should be fluid and experimental and maybe stop being linear at all.” In lieu of my recent post about the role of technology in the growth of L2, I found myself doodling this:

My thought here is that this is, indeed, a one way progression and, at some point, technology diverges from the essence of Library 2.0, though I think we’ll find that technology will always serve to further those principles and without it, Library 2.0 will flounder. That’s why we need to be vigilant for those opportunities where technology can re-converge to support and help grow the core library services that we hold so dear.

One more thing, I think, is worth mentioning here. I often see the comment, “well, this is the same discussion we were having [10-20] years ago.” Yes it is the same discussion with one seriously important difference. We’re now at a point where our hand is being forced. We need to make these decisions now because the parallel world of information that now accompanies us through our lives is evolving with or without us. Discussion is a tool that is far too often used to draw complacency out of the ground–and we’ve peaked in our ability to sustain ourselves on inaction. And this is where we should all be playing close attention to David–his tinkering is the type of action that is going to save our asses.

I was at the doctors office the other day and while I was in the waiting room, I was half-heartedly watching the TV in the corner–the Ellen DeGeneres Show. I wasn’t paying much attention. The sound was off and closed-captioning was scrolling by on the screen. Then I noticed she now has a segment on viral video–selections plucked from the tamest of the tame (dogs doing flips, or some shit). Then I thought about the idiots down in Texas who filmed themselves as they coerced a two and five year-old to smoke marijuana–a video that is in wide circulation both online and in the news (I refuse to link to it).

It’s an entirely new flavor of discourse when video of children being abused like this percolates into our consciousness.

The debate over whether the video should have been released in the first place is, by and large, a journalistic one (and I’m not so sure there is any debate to speak of anyway). Libraries have, however, along with journalists championed the open, transparent flow of information and media. So, perhaps we need to accept the horrifying along with the bizarre, intelligent, and the hilarious. If that’s the case then are we completely divorcing ourselves from content and grafting ourselves to a new model of distribution?

I’m not sure how to answer that, nor do I really know how to answer the question, What does it mean for us? Well, first, I think the job of disseminating and housing the data is taken care of as well as it possibly could be. So what remains? In this feedback loop of viral content and network effects, are there needs being left unattended, are there gaps in the experience where libraries can reside? There are some practical changes to be made, for sure.

The blog, Picturephoning, came onto my radar several weeks ago and since then it’s been holding my attention firmly. Not because of the videos it links to, but because the stories it covers begin, over time, to reveal some very interesting characteristics of this new media and, thus, the profound implications they have for our society and media. The stories range from the superficially humorous to the horrific. All reported with stark impartiality. It’s a gem of a site if what you’re after is a pulse to put your finger on.

It’s from there that I was referred to the Mail & Guardian online who, with their new service, The News in Photos, have begun to actively solicit photos from their readers. Their reasoning?

“This is our most visible step so far to embracing audience participation in the news,” says Vincent Maher, the newly appointed digital media strategist at the Mail & Guardian Online.

“As the power to crystallise reality shifts away from traditional media towards social construction by users of the Web, our role as a media company is shifting from one as a provider to one as a facilitator,”

Bingo. Shifting from provider to facilitator. I mentioned that there were some practical things we can do if we choose to participate in this media, and this is it right here.

I’ve written before that no matter how fabulous our collections are, they will ultimately be unremarkable. Our capacity to allow our users to engage in this new media is what will cement our position as a vital community resource, going forward.

That means many things, like providing the equipment and expertise to let them participate. But it also means, somehow, providing a sense of appropriateness and propriety that befits our institutions and the dignity of the human condition.

I realize that a statement like that flies in the face of library neutrality, but I do feel that we have a responsibility to not just connect our users to this new layer of content, but to also advise them in their endeavors so that they can produce content that is significantly richer than average. We also need to be prepared to stand by them when we will be, inevitably, called to account for what they do.

I don’t know. In so many ways, libraries are still very traditional organizations, entrenched in a very one-dimensional business model–that is, we lend material, answer reference questions, and provide a repository–ok, shelf space–for books that may, or may not, ever be touched (run a report on items that have not been checked-out in over ten years).

I think the library, as an institution, has slid, somewhat, into the periphery of our society’s sight. For example, despite Tom Hanks in the Da Vinci Code (“I need a library, quick!”), references to libraries in popular culture continue to be steeped in iconic images of the shushing librarian and annoyed patrons who glare at an offender who dares raise her voice above a whisper. When a library is portrayed in a movie, we see little old ladies fetching dusty tomes off some hard-to-reach shelf in an effort to help the protagonist track down esoteric knowledge of a demon lost to the annals of time. Contrast that with the number of times we see scenes of hot actors basking in the glow of their LCD panels.

I know these Hollywood generalizations are inaccurate and unfair, but I’m sure I’m not the only one of us that has noticed the characterizations we’ve been given. It’s important to take these into consideration because Hollywood is actually a fairly impartial depiction of America’s psyche (and when it’s not, it’s telling Americans what should be in their psyche). After all, most of our population shapes its world view around what it sees in the movies and on TV, sad as that may be. While we may hold this type of self-actualization in disdain, the American public are the very same people our public libraries serve, and also from whom we receive our funds.

Now, with the rise of Web 2.0, our users have thrust the social media into the mainstream. This has happened because the “networked environment” Hinchcliffe talks about is itself very much mainstream now. In fact, it’s so mainstream that it has begun to help define what aspects of our civilization become mainstream and thus, by default, which do not. and so, we now live in a society where the content that is in high-demand is readily available, pretty much anywhere. I’m talking about content like this:

(Link)

The Candy Mountain video has been circulating for almost a year now and it’s a prime example of how network effects are allowing society to disseminate, in this case, popular culture, and ultimately the bulk of information deemed “important” by our fellow citizens. And so, I’m left scratching my head (just like I was after I watched Charlieee’s adventure) wondering what the heck we’re supposed to be doing with our libraries.

So in the meantime, I’m thrilled to be with one of the libraries that is experimenting. There are a number of radical libraries that are casting about for a new direction. It’s dead reckoning for now. But we’re coming to some new realizations now that are intriguing. We’re thinking about physical space in a whole new way, we’re reaching out to our youth in ways that were never before considered, we’re fiddling around with the chemistry of the net, looking for some new alchemy that may ultimately lead to a new dawn for us. Is your library part of this?

However, I can’t help but think that we’re missing something really important here–that Mr. Hirschey is exactly the type of person we need to be listening to. While I fundamentally disagree with his conclusions, he’s raising a number of very serious and reasonable concerns. While his opinion may not be shared by the majority of his community, it’s an indication of what’s to come. He will not be the last to raise these same points–critics of libraries are only going to get louder and their arguments stronger. Why? Because, as much as we do not want to admit it, there is some truth to those arguments. Libraries are neophyte marketers in a world where perception and opinion trumps logic and truth. So we can circle the wagons and remind ourselves how important we are, or we can be pragmatic and do something about this.

I was on a conference call the other day with several people talking about a new web site and the topic of public perception came up. I relayed some comments I heard on an AM radio talk show I had been listening to in a waiting room somewhere. The radio personality was talking about the piece of legislation we know as DOPA and was being highly critical of librarians, insisting that libraries were standing with and protecting child pornographers and pedophiles. When I heard this, I got so angry that I think I swore out loud and earned a few glares. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that libraries, and certainly the ALA, is virtually incapable of doing spin control. Some might argue that it’s not the job of libraries to do spin control, but the sad truth is that it’s an unpleasant necessity.

I faithfully watch a fantastic show on HBO called The Wire that is now in its fourth season. One of the main antagonists is an untouchable drug dealer named Marlo who, when confronted by a security guard after stealing something from a convenience store, says, “You want it to be one way, but it’s the other way.” I thought that was a brilliant line. Do we want it to be one way when it’s actually the other? I think some of us do.

The problem with Mr. Hirschey’s argument is not his reasoning, but the conclusion he arrives at which is, “don’t build a library.” He writes:

We need to embark on an aggressive plan to bring broadband access to the doorstep of each and every home in Lawrence. There is no need to do anything in west Lawrence, the private sector has already done that in the newer part of town. It’s east Lawrence, the older part of town, that desperately needs access to new information technology.

He’s absolutely right, and again here:

Don’t expect kids, seniors, and everyone else to trudge downtown for the convenience of librarians. Put information technology at the fingertips of every kid, and every senior in Lawrence. Because low incomes limit the ability of some to connect to high-speed access, even when it’s brought to their door, the city might give low-income families computers on a needs basis. Otherwise, offer reliable Internet access at small 24/7 City of Lawrence Free Internet Cafes (“libraries”) that are broadly distributed for easy walking access by kids and seniors.

I agree on both points, especially with the “Don’t expect kids, seniors, and everyone else to trudge downtown” part. But let me ask you this, is there any reason why a new library initiative couldn’t encompass all those things? Why not subsidize wifi hot-spots around town that default to the library web page when a user first logs on? If you don’t have the money, raise it. Why not have our libraries represented on planning commission boards so that we can push for ubiquitous broadband access? Why the hell are we not the ones spear-heading these efforts? Let Mr. Hirschey answer that: because many libraries are “monument[s] to 19th century information technology.” Those of us in the biblioblogosphere might not fall into that 19th Century category, but we all know that for every one of us, there are five or ten of our colleagues (who are excellent at what they do) that plug away just as they always have, blissfully unaware of the storm outside.

I think that this is changing, too slowly, but changing nonetheless. The problem is that libraries are not typically aggressive beasts. I’m afraid we need to be now or we will be quickly trumped by other sources of information that will have the ability to distribute information much more efficiently and rapidly. I’m afraid that, at some point, Mr. Hirschay’s conclusions will be shared by enough people.

So, where and how do we get aggressive?

Damage Control

I used the DOPA example to illustrate the need for libraries to do spin and damage control. We need people at the national level (and the ALA is the likely place for this) who are talented marketers who can sell the nuances of our message. We just don’t have enough of this right now. Yes, I’m talking about talking heads–everyone else does it, we should too because the alternative is that we get chewed up on issues like DOPA and the Patriot Act. We’re not really unpatriotic child pornographers, but there are a lot of people who are painting us as such.

I understand that this seems like selling out to the very media we’re trying to provide an alternative to, but if that’s where the “message” and the people are, why are we not there? I mentioned in a previous post that I didn’t believe that there was a moral equivalency between what we do and what those who would limit our rights are doing. I still believe that, but we’re not doing a good job of taking the fight to where the fight is. What do we do? We take our licks, then come back to the flock to spread our message where we’re met with approval and acceptance. Good, if you want to delude yourself, bad if you want to explain yourself to a confused public.

Radical Change

More specifically, the tolerance of radical change. I think as we push further into the 21st Century, a lot of librarians are going to have to reconcile their expectations of what they think a library should be with what a library needs to be. This is hard, because in order to effect the changes needed to do business in this new, emerging market (yes, we’re part of a market), and find a place among the commercial giants we need to be much more nimble than we are now.

Every organization is like a piece of raw material in that each one has its own flexural strength–that is, you can subject a group of people to a finite amount of change before something ruptures and causes the group cohesion to break down. I love libraries, but they are not very adaptable organizations. They could be, however. Through a regimen of conditioning, hiring practices and managing expectations of staff, libraries can eventually get to the point where they are more flexible–injured athletes do the same thing with their bodies in physical therapy. We are out of shape and complacent and its starting to really show.

Aggressive Lobbying

Does the ALA have a strong lobby in Washington? Well according to this page, which only gives data up through 2002 (but the numbers are basically flat), “ALA lobby expenses average $173,000 for a six-month reporting period or about $350,000 per year. Expenses are primarily incurred at the Washington Office based on time reported by staff.” Considering that the New York Library alone spent $80,000 of its own money in 2004 on lobbying efforts, what does that say about this particular priority? ALA has opted for a cap of $1 million on lobbying, which has not come close to to being approached. For six years, our First Lady has been a librarian–have we used that to its full potential?

We need to be investing in this effort now so that we can secure our ability to do things in the future, such as distribute content electronically, maintain our right to determine our own filtering policies, or collect whatever material we want. Right now, we are severely hamstrung by an extremely vague fair use clause that prohibits libraries from coming to the same party as the likes of iTunes and Rhapsody. The legality of sharing electronic content is our biggest impediment. Without more flexible distribution options, there will be no long tail for us.

Activism, not anger

I predict that we’ll start seeing more and more library opponents like Mr. Hirschey. We have the choice of reacting with anger and disgust to their views or engaging and talking to them directly to find a way to meet their needs and expectations. After all, if Mr. Hirschey walked in to our library and asked us directly if we could do X, Y, or Z, we wouldn’t shout or laugh him off the premises–it’s not the way we conduct business inside our libraries. That same approach to customer service shouldn’t stop at the threshold of our front door.

The best defense is a great offense, and actively addressing the very same concerns he talks about–chiefly the issue of providing broadband access to low-income families–should be a major concern of ours. He’s not an asshole, he’s genuinely concerned for a group of disenfranchised people–perhaps more concerned than we are. So you tell me, why are we not doing anything about connecting up low-income families? Perhaps if we were a little more proactive about addressing the needs of our community, we wouldn’t be subjected to some of this negative public perception.

The real story here centers on a few simple questions. Why should we get those dollars? Are we entitled to the money we get because we’ve always gotten it? I’m not so sure–it might do us some good to scratch and fight for our sustenance–the people Mr. Hirschey wants to help certainly do for theirs.

In response to Hennepin’s new commenting capability, Talis’s Paul Miller asks the question, “Participation is an important part of moving forward. How much better might shared participation be?” What he’s talking about is allowing other libraries to access Hennepin’s comments in an effort to provide a more enriching search experience beyond Hennepin’s OPAC, say, at Ann Arbor, or wherever.

What Paul goes on to propose in a follow-up post is a shared collectionof user participation much like the UK’s archival project. This would provide a central database and, presumably a set of web tools to access and interact with the data. Libraries anywhere in the world would have access to add and read content. It would be a shared, collaborative clearinghouse of participation.

I’m all for it–but with some caution. Isn’t that what Amazon is now? If you take away the e-commerce, Amazon is a collection of reviews, tags, and ratings on an insanely large amount of material. Interesting? Indeed. Useful? Of course. But I feel the need to point out that libraries are community-based institutions. They are supported by local taxpayers and are run, mostly, by members of the communities they serve. As such, wouldn’t we want any social element that is incorporated into our OPAC to reflect the tastes and opinions and personality of our community? I think so, and so does Ed Vielmetti:

…here in Ann Arbor there are a lot of book readers, and it’d really be rather nice to read comments from people who shared the same town with you. If I want to read random untrusted comments from people all over the world there’s already Amazon.

I mentioned some of this a while ago, though never specifically addressed the local vs. global social data repository idea. All this is not to say that in addition to community-driven social software we can’t access and make use of a shared data store. In response to a comment I made to Paul’s second post on this, Fiona Leslie made two very good points that she has seen come up repeatedly.

1. Libraries have reading groups and staff who create reviews, and there is no mechanism for getting those reviews “available” beyond posting them on notice boards, or perhaps on the library’s web pages. A few of them have an OPAC implementation that allows the reviews to be viewed in their OPAC.

2. Libraries have few or no reviews, but they see the value in having them, and would really appreciate a kickstart by having access to a shared repository of reviews created by other readers and staff in other areas.

Ok, so I’ll address each one separately. First, she is absolutely right, there is no de facto method of integrating participation in to our OPACs. This is compounded by the fact that our OPACs themselves tend to be unalterable beasts and we must rely on vendors themselves to make changes and enhancements to them. Many of you who follow what I write here know that’s a contentious issue for me, but I’ll keep my hackles down for now and simply remind everyone that this is another reason to demand a few basic rights from our vendors.

But even if we did all have unfettered access to our OPACs, or were resourceful and persistent enough to subvert the plain vanilla foisted upon us, what would a socialPAC look like? Fiona specifically mentions reviews, so lets stick with that for the purposes of this post. Actually, let’s not, because it doesn’t matter what the implementation looks like–that’s the fun part you and your development team get to mess about with when you do your redesign. What’s important is what we do with that review data after we get it and the value it adds to the process of searching for material. I’d suggest that the data be made available via two conduits. First would be the end-user interface. That is, the website or application patrons use to both consume and produce the content. How you weave this in to your OPAC is ultimately up to you (or… up to your vendor).

Richard Wallis weighed in ad responded to my comment. He writes:

So what are my assumptions then? Well firstly, the contributions of the citizens of Ann Arbor would be of great use, interest, and value to a far wider audience than just their district. Secondly, contributions to any global pool should be tagged as to their source and type. Thirdly, because of that tagging, selection of results should be able to be via many filters such as library, library authority or institution, library type, country, language etc.

So following through those assumptions in John’s situation, I would hope that contributions for my community would add value to the global pot; be displayable locally in isolation as a coherent set; and optionally could be supplemented by those from other appropriate communities around the country and the rest of the world.

I suppose I was a little unclear in my comment on Panlibus. I’d agree with Paul that, once the data is in, it would be nice to have a way to share it with other libraries. And I also agree with Richard that there is a place for supplementing existing data with a larger pool. In fact, I believe we have an obligation, as libraries, to do some manner of both. I envision Ann Arbor’s system providing a very lean web service on top of this entire system. Using this model, we will be able to share our community-driven social data beyond our borders. Libraries who do not enjoy the same community support that Ann Arbor, has will still benefit from the data. I believe this distributed approach to generating and maintaining socialPAC data will ultimately offer both redundancy and diversity. The thought of hundreds of libraries making their data available is certainly a more appealing alternative than that of the monolithic database. Metadata itself is an archive–it tells a story.

Fiona’s other point was that kick-starting a service may be difficult, especially in communities that are not likely to respond to and prime a service like this. Personally, I think we all might be surprised at the response that socialPACs will have with our constituents. Almost everyone has an opinion, and most people want to share it. That aside, however, Fiona is right. There will be cases where social software is not successful, popular, whatever.

So how do you evaluate your own situation with respect to social social software? Can your community sustain a socialPAC in perpetuity in a manner that will continually reflect a unique attitude and personality? If it can, how do you get it started?

First, you’re going to have to be honest with yourselves about the project itself. Do you want to pursue social software because it’s cool and hip, or do you really want to change the way your users interface with your collection in profound and personal ways while building a legacy at the same time? You can get a good feel for the level of Web 2.0 participation your community engages in by using existing Web 2.0 services which often let you dial in on specific locales. This may give you a good indication of whether a program like this might be a success.

If you’re convinced that your community will support a socialPAC, the next step is to come up with a a design and interface concept that will truly let your existing catalog shine while providing all the Web 2.0 immersion people expect. (easier said than done). This is where the innovators need to step in and start coming up with tangible examples of how this might work. I suspect that most libraries that do this will pursue a variation on a theme, but bear in mind that there are a lot of directions to take this stuff and in the end, it’s the one-of-a-kind feature that will give your OPAC its fingerprint. I suppose that vendors will dial in on the more popular and successful models and run with those. I have no problem with that as long as they adhere to the Web 2.0 spirit.

What about the initial “jump-start”? While I was writing this, my thoughts kept drifting to sourdough and I remembered a good friend of mine who, on occasion, liked to bake sourdough bread. It was this person who introduced me to my first sourdough starter. A shapeless blob that lives in your refrigerator and which, on occasion, you feed. At any rate, he was telling me how some sourdough starters have very rich and colorful histories because they have been passed down, literally, through generations. Some are closely guarded, while others have been disseminated and passed around liberally. It’s pretty fascinating.

But before I digress completely, Fiona’s concern about kick-starting can be addressed if we make our metadata available to systems starting up. Instead of one or two large repositories, however, wouldn’t it be great if we could choose from hundreds and all we had to do was send a request against a web service to get started? The tools are in place to allow this kind of interaction. All it takes is a willingness to communicate and share.

I suppose I may be searching for blue sky here, but Web 2.0 gives us a chance to do things properly from the beginning. Ultimately, the successful system will be rich with good data and useful to your patrons. The deeper significance of a unique repository will not emerge right away, but in time, you’ll see how data, like buildings themselves, can add to the legacy of a place. Make it available to the larger library community and we’ll see some very interesting things, indeed.

You’ll notice that April 10-14 is dedicated to “Library and Information Resources“. LJ Mover and Shaker, Meredith Farkas has gathered a fantastic group of people to present during this block–I just hope mine can keep up with some of the other great topics planned!

As a public library person, I’m looking forward to getting a taste of librarianship in higher education. I think, with much of the Library 2.0 discussion focusing primarily on public libraries, school libraries have been left out in the cold a bit. It’s important to include them in the discussion of new ideas and the overarching discussion.

I’ve never participated in a BlogCon before, so this is a first for me, but it’s apparent that a lot of work and planning has gone into making this succeed. The fact that there is no geographical barrier to attendance really intrigues me and I’m looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.

Be sure to subscribe to the HEBC feed (comment feed too) and participate! It is, after all, a conference.

I’ve never attended a real open spaces event, so this is going to be a completely new experience for me (I’ve been saying that about a lot of things lately). I’m confident, however, that the format will be conducive to discussion and I’m expecting that we’ll not only learn a lot but accomplish a fair bit as well. A number of great people are planning on attending–be sure to add your name if you plan to come. I believe that space constraints are capping registration at 40.

Some of my topics may overlap what Eli’s already tossed out, but that’s the idea–to find the overlapping topics and go from there.

I’d like to spend some time looking at Library 2.0. I’m wondering if the term itself is becoming a liability. My concern is that there is so much contention associated with it now that the great intellectual discussion it’s intended to represent is being neglected.

I want to talk about ways that techies and non-techies can better communicate. I think there will be a good representation from both camps, if you will, that a candid dialogue could ensue.

I’d like to spend some time talking shop with other techies. Specifically, I’d like to get together with some other III users and see where that goes. I’d also like to cover/learn more about some of the stuff discussed at code4lib. XML/XSLT hacking would be fun too.

I want to talk about OPACs. Specifically, I want to talk about adding social software to the OPAC. I’d like to share some of the work I’ve been doing in this direction and invite others to do the same. I’d also like to gather ideas on getting buy-in for this sort of thing.

A general talk about trends in library websites. I’d really like to hear from the academic sector on this because the public library perspective can be very different and sometimes the academic library voices don’t come through as well as I’d like. I’d like to find out where the similarities end and differences begin.

Because this is not an “in-industry” event, I’d like to talk with library users and get their opinions and perspective on many of the ideas behind Library 2.0.

I’d like to spend some time checking out all the neat gadgets people will be coming with–so bring your cool stuff!

I, too, would like to talk about IM virtual reference. AADL doesn’t do it and I really think we should. I’d like to hear from others who may have successfully pulled it off. I’d like to talk about some other alternatives as well, such as web-based IRC clients/bots/etc.

I’d like to talk about networking in libraries. Perhaps cover different Wi-Fi solutions. I have some ideas on using bittorrent as a content delivery system for patrons I’d like to vet. General chat about networking/server infrastructure would be fun.

I think some discussion should go into whether an information clearinghouse should exist for L2 ideas and resources. The Library 2.0 wiki, perhaps? Maybe we can get a start on filling in some information.

I have a feeling I’ll be updating this page post, but this is a start. I’ll be cross posting this list to the possible session page on the Library 2.0 wiki. Be sure to add yours there as well. Even if you’re not going, if you think of a topic, add it because there will be a number of bloggers present who will be interpreting events. Who knows, your topic might get discussed.

One of the questions posed to the panel was, where can Library 2.0 make a difference now? Where is the action?

I had mentioned four particular areas where I thought L2 could be a change agent: technology, policy, programming, physical spaces. It's important to note that these four areas of change are in no way inherently "library 2.0"--just a part of the conversation. I think it's also important for me to admit that beyond technology, I really cannot write with any authority about policy, programming, or physical spaces, but I can identify good elements in each and voice an my opinion as to what I believe is good practice in each realm.

It's difficult to have a conversation about what's new in librarianship these days without bumping into terms like RFID, blog, wiki, and IM. There's little doubt that technology is poised to play a defining role in the future of librarianship. The question is how, to what degree, and what will it look like? I certainly see perils--some of which have already manifested themselves, *cough* .. RFI .. *cough* D ... I think we run the risk of chasing our tails in a frenzied loop, driven by tech for tech's sake. Always remember that when considering new technology, be mindful of "the process"--your existing methods and how new technology will impact it. After all, we share a relationship with technology, we don't own it. If we're unrealistic about that relationship and where it's going to go, we run the risk of burning ourselves in a flash of limerent passion.

So, what is the good stuff? As always, my response is, "that depends". Lately I've been beating the OPAC drum because I believe it's a fundamental library tool that's being neglected and passed over for more interesting or hip technologies. I believe in the socialPAC--we'll see where that goes, though. Michael Stephens does an inordinate amount of work trying to get libraries to adopt blogging. We've realized some very positive returns from our blogging initiative at AADL. In less that a year, we've managed to accumulate a sizable archive of quality content that belongs to us and invites community involvement. The model works and it adds tremendous value to our organization.

APIs have become vogue and we're seeing both the term and the technology itself sink into the library vernacular--at least in the blogosphere among library techies. I think the fact that we've witnessed some real successes with technologies like mashups, metadata and microformat-based tools has given rise to a general acceptance that the API is a critical business tool. I'm keen to see what arises from projects like unAPI and OpenURL. The idea here is to get away from technology that no longer works well, or doesn't live up to today's computing standards.

I don't want to speak much on hardware, because that is a bit of a sticky wicket. The problem with hardware is that it's always there and I really don't believe that hardware provides as much ROI as the judicious use of software can. As long as you have the right hardware for the job and enough power to drive your applications, you're set. That's not to say that we shouldn't be experimenting and researching ways to use new hardware--we just need to be careful because hardware vendors often promise one thing while practicality demonstrates another--tablet PC, anyone?

I'm grateful to the administrators who toil over policy development. Well, I'm grateful to them when they produce policy that makes sense! I've always been of the opinion that if the majority of people ignore a particular policy, it's bad--I think there is a little bit of acknowledgement of that going on these days as we look around and see a number of institutions relaxing rules and taking the opportunity to foster environments that are more inviting and less punitive. AADL, for example, now allows patrons to enjoy a beverage anywhere in the library so long as it has a lid. The old stereotype of the cranky librarian shushing anyone who dares to converse above a whisper is slowly eroding. I'd like to see fines disappear--some libraries are adopting very lax fine policies. Fines do nothing but scare off potential users and disenfranchise those who have accrued a balance. Friendly phone calls ought to accompany invoices. Your facilities could have all the right components for an immersive library experience, but if the policies are suffocating, expect users to go elsewhere.

While we're at it, reconsidering organizational structure is not a bad idea. My guess is that a more Google-like approach to staffing in key areas may help foster innovation. In other words, libraries might benefit from flattening out the organization structure of its employees in areas where new ideas are being developed and tested. Staff members need to have a realistic sense that they can approach anyone else in the organization with ideas and proposals instead of scheming up ways of floating them through layers of bureaucracy with the fear that they may be trampling on someones toes. Bureaucracy is an innovation killer.

Good policy can also pave the way for radical transformation in programming. In addition to the regularly-scheduled programs like story times and computer classes, I'm continuously impressed with the quality of guest speakers and other events our community relations department puts together. Programming is such an important tool for reminding your community that the library is alive, full of hope and opportunity. Lately, with the addition of gaming juggernauts like AADL-GT, we're seeing an upsurge in the amount and quality of teen programming in libraries everywhere. Teen programming is tremendously vogue right now and is vital to the fiscal health of our libraries in the future. We ought to be hiring and encouraging the very best teen librarians we possibly can right now--they need to be courageous, energetic visionaries, much like our own Erin Hemlrich (who ought to be blogging!). Courageous, because aside from the perceived taboos that need to be broken in order to get teens excited about the library, getting teens excited is not easy--it takes guts to engage those hypercritical hormone-factories. Gaming programs have a huge potential for return, if done right. Eli Neiburger and Erin have put together a gaming initiative that would knock your head off if you saw it--it's so good that it actually impresses the kids who come to it. And come they do--well over a hundred participants often show up for events.

Programming is also receptive to the adaptation of new technologies. Creative and judicious use of streaming audio/video, VoIP, wifi, electronic signage, even our own existing databases can yield results that look highly produced and professional. Attention to detail and a mindset that demands quality will create a product that our users will respect, and in turn, they will feel respected by us. True, money plays into a lot of these programs, but not always, and not as much as one might expect by looking at the finished product--be wily and get it done right!

We've just successfully opened the new Pittsfield Branch Library--the latest addition to the AADL system. It's a beautiful library--my favorite so far. In addition to bright, airy, open stacks and a quiet reading room with a fire place that overlooks protected wetlands, it features a generous kids area replete with toys and game computers. Also, directly in the center of the building is an interactive Bernoulli machine exhibit--a joint venture between AADL and the Ann Arbor Hands-On Museum. The exhibit allows visitors (mostly the children) to press a pneumatic button that launches balls up a 20 foot tube where they are shot out into a spiral funnel that winds the balls back down another tube into a collection chamber with a spinning disc that sends the balls careening over buttons that light up various panels. The balls then fall back into a pinball-like queue where they can be launched, once again. It's really quite impressive. I also think it was a courageous move to put it in there due to both it's size and the amount of activity that it garners. It's definitely a draw for the 2-8 year-old crowd!

The point here is that physical space plays a major role in defining both the mission and purpose of libraries. I'm glad to see that larger and larger areas are being devoted to youth and teens. Having those resources brings in the stay-at-home parents with their children and starts a process of acclimation that primes the pipeline with future (tax-paying) patrons. Clean, accessible and uncongested computer rooms are essential to providing connectivity to those who may not have it at home, or who may not even have a home (we ought to be thinking about programming for the homeless, as well). Book stores have coffee shops, libraries should too, with free wifi so that the Borders down the street doesn't steal our business.

Okay, so I've taken a few scribblings and turned them into a long-winded brain-dumpish post. What can I say, I love what I do, and I believe that libraries are an oasis. Like most everyone else, I think we can do better. If nothing else, "Library 2.0" reminds us that it's an exciting and challenging time to be a library.

[tags]library, libraries, Web 2.0, Library 2.0, SirsiDynix, OPAC, innovation, technology, policy[/tags]

I have to confess I think he may be right, our library web sites are not places where you want to spend any time, and our OPACs are not fun places to be either. But then again, why should they be? Why should our library web site be a place where our students want to spend time? Is there something missing from their university experience that only our web site can provide? Why this fear, this sense that, unless we soon get up to speed we are all doomed?

First, I want to be clear that I don't think we are doomed if we choose not to implement social software in our OPACs. Libraries will not cease to function if we don't address the shortcomings of our online catalogs. It is very clear to me, however, that the OPAC is an empty vessel, waiting to be filled. Since their inception, OPACs have done the job intended by usurping the card catalog with stoic efficiency. Let's be honest, though and admit that something special slipped out into the ether when those large, cumbersome drawers were toted out and replaced by luminescent portal we now know as the catalog station. That's just the way it goes.

Much of what we lost was not due to function, but to form. Nothing will replace the look, feel, and smell of a dusty, old, age-cured card catalog, but it's been a decade, or two since we made the switch and I think it's okay to consider making our OPACs special. We've got a unique opportunity now as the planets of technology, internal discussion, and market penetration align. Perhaps now is the time to overcome institutional inertia and do something unexpected, if not radical. A social element belongs in the OPAC, our users are waiting for it and they'll soak it up like sponges if we give it to them. Web 2.0 provides both technology and a cauldron of ideas as to how to apply it. At the same time, a conversation that was once a distant murmur is gathering strength and it promises to disrupt policies and attitudes libraries have, for so long, conditioned themselves to be reflexive about. The public, meanwhile, has become inured with technology and complexity.

Let's not forget the role libraries play in a community. Perhaps the view from inside sometimes is only a view of ourselves reflected back at us, when in fact, the truth is that the public comes to us in need. Sometimes that need is small, casual. Sometimes it's the type of need that transcends record authority and can only be redressed by another in similar need. Are we really the final say on what the best resources are if someone wants help with teen pregnancy, domestic abuse, or cystic fibrosis? Can all of our collective training tell that needful person exactly what material best suits their situation?

Of course not. Our OPACs cannot be the golden kiosks we all want, but by inviting participation in the stewardship of a community resource, we can begin to build unique meta-collections that slide value, pertinence, and humanity into the search process. It may be that in that moment when a patron is about to turn away from the library, something catches their eye--a tag, a comment, some marginalia, perhaps, that puts the patron in front of the material they truly need.

The key component in growing social OPACs is community. Once you put the community you service into the process of delivering content back out into the very same community, you initiate a loop that will become exponentially richer over time as those neural connections glom on to each other. Findability is not the goal, but the activity and the experience which is why I say that OPACs have the potential to be fascinating places to visit and browse. They will not embody the comforting, muffled presence of the old card catalog. No, they'll be their own individual entities--borderless, shapeless creatures that somehow fit the people they represent.

That's a goal truly worth striving for.

[tags] library, librarians, library 2.0, web 2.0, OPAC, tagging, social software, search engines [/tags]