* 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?”

A library on the Edge?

Like two distinct brands of the same religion, librarians are drifting into two camps–those that believe libraries are in peril and those that don’t. Those who find themselves as a member of the former tend to feel that their libraries need to change in a number of fundamental ways in order to remain relevant. Those who identify with the latter group feel that good old-fashion librarianship is still what their users want or need.  They’re the purists. Perhaps I’m oversimplifying this, but I do believe that all of us sit somewhere between these two poles.

This dichotomy yields some interesting implications for discussions about the future of libraries and what we should be doing now and in the future. For instance, if you’re inclined to think that libraries are in danger of becoming irrelevant, you’re probably going to be more open to many of the more radical proposals and developments we’re seeing and hearing of today. Purists, of course, are just as vehement and passionate about libraries, but want to see the core values of their libraries shored up.  To them, good old fashion reference and circulation is what libraries are all about.

So the question is, how do these two groups find a middle ground that will not compromise us into mediocrity? I’m skeptical about the prospect of creating more excellent middle-of-the-road libraries. That’s what most of us are right now.

Web 2.0 is saturated while Library 2.0 is parched

The library corpus cannot absorb all the 2.0 being thrown at it. I see two major problems that are causing a veritable 2.0-anemia.

First, while Library 2.0 may not be exclusively about technology, it’s hitched its wagon to technology in inextricable ways. That means that in order to be deft L2 wagon-drivers, we need to have great technologists and great technology. Libraries have a severe shortage of both and while we may try to make ourselves gleam to one another as best we can, what we really ought to be doing is focusing on how libraries can be attracting new blood into that particular sector of the industry. There is no doubt that great work is being done by a lot of talented people (and they know who they are). But for most of us, implementation is still that big old swollen caveat hanging out there uncomfortably.

Second, after implementation, integration tends to be awkward, at best. There is a fairly severe disconnect between what the 2.0 pundits say (among whom I count myself), and what is really happening. Your library may have, for instance, a Flickr account, IM reference, a bloglines blog, delicious bookmarks, whatever. But are they truly embedded into the way your institution works? In almost every case, this approach seems like throwing seeds into the air, letting them land where they may. I think it’s time to start talking about how we arrange these components into a more suitable constellation of services. These technical elements of L2 must be aligned along our institutions’ field of influence and expertise so that the seams don’t show. Seams send the wrong message, they say we’re being disingenuous and sloppy. In effect, poorly implemented technology amounts to spamming our users and staff with “new features.”

The user is sometimes broken

Sorry Karen, but sometimes the user is broken. And that’s ok. We’re all broken in some way and that’s what makes us human. Let’s not forget that, at its core, the library is a human construct created by humans for use by humans.  I think we can be there to help fix the user, to enable the user to change in the ways that he or she would like.

There will be times when we get it right and the user still can’t handle it, because the user can’t deal.  We shouldn’t change a good thing for him because accommodating him will send us down an endless rabbit hole.  It’s those cases that we rely on our hospitality and deference to help the user as best we can.

The librarian is sometimes broken

Of course, the flip side of this is that, yes, sometimes the librarian is broken too.  In comparison, it’s much easier to deal with a broken user than a broken librarian.  The broken user is a support issue, and support is simply a commodity.  The broken librarian, if not fixed, is an institutional liability.  But God bless us, we’re a compassionate, sensitive bunch and we’re going to tip-toe around that person’s shortcomings and weave them into the fabric of our organizations.  That’s the way we roll.

Bo Kinney responded to my Buzzkill post with an excellent post on collection development and I’m actually not in complete disagreement with it. Bo makes a number of very valid points and uses the Charlie Robinson, “Give ‘em what they want” campaign as an example of appeasement for the masses gone awry. But that’s not quite what we’re talking about here.

The issue at hand is whether, as libraries, we overrule the demand of our users with our own sensibilities. That’s a very dangerous path to tread. What if a group of librarians converged upon ’80s music and deemed it to be mindless noise, driven by rampant consumer confidence and cocaine? Should they then be allowed to weed it out of the collection or keep it from getting ordered? What if the target was material written or recorded by gay and lesbian artists? Perhaps it would be in the interest of the community to strike such material from the collection–especially now that gays and lesbians are gaining acceptance in popular culture. No, there needs to be a more objective criteria for ordering the bulk of our collection and that is the aggregate popularity (or anticipated popularity) of a given item. It’s a cold, impersonal, impartial, and unbiased process–just as it should be. That’s right up central management’s alley, if you ask me.

But Bo is correct as well. Librarians absolutely need to have a hand in developing collections. The librarian’s purview is a far murkier, far more interesting venue: the long tail. The problem with Robinson’s approach is that it docks it (of course, there was no understanding of what the long tail is back in the ’90s). Being able to embrace the long tail distribution is very much a key component to library 2.0. Maybe this is what the Sacramento administrators are not quite seeing. Without provisioning for the popular stuff, you get a lifeless, disembodied tail. Without the tail, you get a Borders.

Certainly there is a balance to be struck here and I certainly understand and appreciate the concern expressed by John Berry. I share it as well, but I see contemporary developments in our libraries as moving to address those shortcomings. Technology is a large piece of that puzzle as we use it to enable new methods of service and as we continue to expand our user base through it. But Library 2.0 is more than that. It encompasses major changes to our spaces, our policies, our programming, and our practices. I heartily disagree with Bo’s comment that we’re pursuing change out of fear. I believe most of us pursue change out of a knowledge that we can do better on all fronts and a desire to want to. The struggle between those who want to change and those who desire status quo indeed goes on, like it has for decades. And just like it always has, change inevitably overruns inertia.

In the meantime, otherwise normal and intelligent people act like idiots because change is scary and it’s anger that fear leads to, not change.  The easiest course of action is to do nothing at all and scorn those harbingers of change. It may be that yesterday’s Fireside Poets have become today’s Paris Hiltons, but that’s life and we have to cater to it. We can’t very well elevate the minds of our people without first getting them in the door. We won’t get anyone if all we do is build sky-walks between ivory towers. Is it an ideal representation of our grand vision to stock the shelves with Jackass? Not likely, but pragmatism is, in itself, a form of idealism when applied correctly toward a common good. You just need to stomach the sight of sausage being made.

Late October, I also spoke about the “Semantic Library” at a Connecticut Library Consortium symposium.

So I was pleasantly surprised when I stumbled upon this gem:

(link)

via Seth Godin (and Alan Gray).

But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it? Insecurity? Severe cases can hinder and even cripple, but when you blend in other qualities, such as courage, vision, passion, and experimentation, the result can be something quite disruptive and impressive in its own right. What strikes me about the Library 2.0 movement is that it is born from, and exists in, a constant state of insecurity. The form it has taken, however, is far from insecure.

So what does that mean for Library 2.0, and why is it important? Insecurity is an indication of risk, which is something we should all tolerate a little of. There is no guarantee that the work we put in to adapting 2.0-related ideas will have a net positive effect on our organizations and so the willingness to experiment on our production environments becomes a necessary aspect of L2. That, of course, is terrifying.

So let’s take a look at exactly why L2 is so scary and try to deconstruct the rational from the irrational.

“Patron’s may complain” (see flickr complaints). Often times, we seem so afraid of risking a patron complaint that it keeps us from pursuing something potentially interesting. To some extent, I believe that patrons don’t have all the information to know what’s best for them. That’s what we’re there for–to create the services they never dreamed possible, right? At any rate, it’s impossible to please everyone, all the time. Yet, even if an experiment fails and ticks off a group of our patrons, isn’t that worth the right to experiment in the first place? I believe so. The government is not the only group of people who can inhibit innovation… our users can too. Keeping a vigilant eye on them may not be a bad idea (see Gwinnett CPL). I’m of the opinion that there is no moral equivalency between our mission and that of those groups that seek to ban “offensive material” and filter our Internet connections. They’re wrong, we’re right, period. Part of our mandate is to carry a community, even when a group of its citizens are acting like idiots.

“It may not work.” Well, of course it may not work, whatever it is. That’s the point of experimenting. And when it doesn’t work in a production environment, you may be embarrassed or even chastised–so what? Failures tend to tell us more about ourselves than our successes do. It’s quite possible that a miserable failure could lead to an even greater success. So analyze your failures, find out why you failed, where things went wrong, and what changes you can make. This is common sense, of course, but I think we tend to forget that the library environment is exactly the right place for experimenting because it is so forgiving. I think I’ve mentioned before that such an environment is our ace in the hole, as it were, with respect to our commercial competitors and our ILS partners/vendors. You will fail sometimes. Eventually, something you do will suck. Oh well. Get over it and try something else.

“Yikes, how do we keep up with our own growth?” If you have this problem, then you’re already the envy of other libraries and you’re finding little sympathy for this particular difficulty. Rapid growth of a service, while an indication of success, can be a major problem, especially if you’re not equipped to deal with it. Rapid growth can bite you in a number of unpleasant ways. First is the “victim-of-your-own-success” syndrome where you’ve created the impression in the minds of other departments that your department can create and deliver pretty much anything. As a result, the line, “Oh, we’ll just have [insert your department here] do it” becomes all-too-familiar. Of course you’re already up to your neck in projects.
Manage people’s expectations accordingly. The idea is to achieve superb customer service, but remember–that’s the journey, not where you are right now. If you allow people to expect a level of service you cannot reliably deliver, you are actually providing poor customer service and misrepresenting yourself in the process.
The other potential pitfall is that a service will outgrow the ability of its infrastructure to support it. You need to always think about extensibility–how to practically manage and accommodate growth. Don’t paint yourself into a corner. This could come in the form of outgrowing current server hardware, overwhelming staff with service requests, overtaxing existing collections, or something else equally vexing. Think about what success means to your organization in these practical terms.

Sustainability – Growth and sustainability go hand-in-hand. We ought to hone our soothsaying abilities enough to know what is sustainable and what is not. When we add a service, the worst thing we could do is to shut it off because we can no longer support it. That sets a bad precedence, and is not the type of expectation we want to foster in our users. How will they trust us enough to use new services if they’ve been burned in the past? Bear in mind, this is different from removing a service that doesn’t work well. I’m talking about removing a service because we can no longer support it, fiscally or otherwise. Evaluate your capacity to carry a new service indefinitely.

“What about outside factors?” Like.. well.. DOPA? There is no way to ensure that we’ll always have carte blanche to do what we want in the world. Take a moment, every now and then, to meditate on how blessed we are to live and operate in a free and open society. Then get real. There are certain things we cannot control, some things we can. DOPA is a great example of this because it’s clearly a highly political piece of poor legislation that is as unconstitutional as it is unenforceable. We’re also loosing the PR battle–I know this because I’ve heard, a number of talking heads on several different media outlets, complain about libraries supporting perverts and child porn. Yes, it made me angry, but pragmatically, it means we’re getting our hats handed to us. Clearly, this is an issue that our leadership is more equipped to handle on a federal level. Locally, however, are we doing anything to explain our position to our own users who may be hearing the same things? My point is that when outside pressure is applied against our organizations, we need to know our patrons will stand with us. Will yours?

FUD – Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt. It’s subversive, passive, and crippling. Remember SCO’s lawsuit against IBM over Linux? Well, everyone with a clue in the open source community knew it was bogus, but enough FUD was generated by the lawsuit that the growth and adoption of Linux decelerated significantly. When it comes to technology, I see similarities in the library world. Not necessarily due to someones lobbying efforts, but because a large number of our colleagues are very unsure about the impact of technology in our organizations. As a result, they feel threatened. It’s a gulf we need to span. Those of us who are more comfortable with technology know that most of those fears are unfounded–it’s our job to reach out and reassure our peers, to help them understand that while their role in a 2.0 world may be different, it’s no less important.
FUD can come from almost everywhere. It’s one of those things we need to be able to identify and stop before it gets out of control. It’s stopped by the absence of ego and the presence of cooperation, education and understanding.

We should relinquish central coordination?? – In some cases, you bet. Especially when it comes to adding social-based services. The term “Radical Trust” has been tossed about in regard to this. In order for some things to be successful, we’re going to have to let the reins slip a little (sometimes a lot) and let our users take over. Given our profession’s obsession with authoritativeness, it’s hard, I know. Get over it, and remember, authority and social participation are by no means mutually exclusive. The two can exist quite nicely in parallel.

So what happens if we don’t experiment? Well, being a father of three young kids, I tend to think of it this way: It’s 3 AM and your newborn has woken up with a particularly nasty diaper. You are really not in the mood to change it, but you think, “What will happen if I don’t change it?” Besides being neglectful of someone you love viscerally, you know the alternatives are not good. In other words, changing the diaper is the only option. Let your mind go down the path of complacency. Let it go waaay down that path–five, ten, thirty years. If you care about the wonderful institution you work in, you don’t need an answer to this question.

Hinchcliffe has a wonderful post describing the idea of viral feedback and network effects. He explains that the “physics of the web” have changed and evolved to the point where the game has changed, whether we like it or not. Every day, a higher proportion of our population begins to lead a life that has one foot in the physical word and the other online. In fact, I believe that the online world often allows people to express their true persona with fewer inhibitions than “real life”. Online interaction often closes the gap between minds–a phenomenon that can be mutually beneficial to libraries and patrons. But timing is critical: we need to be gearing up to enter into this game during its disruptive phase–not after.

The new versions allow users to display cover images along with the records. A new option gives you the choice of text only, images only, or images and text. Not a major change, but noteworthy. Also, in case you missed the update in my previous post, the new items gadget can now match subject headings–useful if you want to be notified about new items on a particular topic.

For the purposes of the Talis mashup competition (for the judges), the original xml files are still available under a different name (tops-v1.xml and new-v1.xml). Everyone else, here are the new ones:

• tops.xml
• new.xml

(FYI, it’s the same URL as the previous version. If you’ve already added it to your Google page, the update will be automatic)

While working on this little project, I became painfully aware of PatREST’s limitations when dealing with asynchronous execution — like that of Google gadgets. I previously thought it would be better to limit the amount of data returned in an XML hit-list and use a second record query for and detailed info. I think I may have been a little short-sighted. At any rate, the lesson learned is that the more practical experience I have with PatREST, the more I’ll know what works and what doesn’t.

The upshot of all this is that I’ve expanded the result objects in any PatREST function that returns multiple records to include more information, such as ISBN, cover image, author, and record link. For those asynchronous folks, this will make life a lot easier. The new additions have been added to an updated specification. Existing PatREST applications (I don’t think there are many at this point) will continue to work, of course.