S-curvy Libraries
In the Journal of Academic Librarianship, v. 34, no. 2, Lyman Ross and Pongracz Sennyey write an article on the future of libraries in a changing technological milieu.
This is not a surprising topic - in fact, it’s a perennial topic in the library literature, to the extent that the first line of the article reflects that you can’t mention new or changing technology and libraries together without running afoul of somebody’s cliché. Still, this sort of article fascinates me as it falls in the realm of speaking the doom of libraries (doom here being “fate,” rather than “horrifying, fiery end” - that was handled in the last post I wrote about doomsaying).
Ross and Sennyey’s premise is to analyze libraries and their technological aspects through the lens of Richard Foster’s S-curve model (used to indicate the growth profile of new technologies, from early adoption to plateau and ultimately replacement by another “discontinuous” or disruptive technology). Foster’s theory suggests that in the face of a technology that is new and disruptive, most businesses will at first attempt to simply refine existing (and proven) methods. However, this sort of polishing only carries an organization so far, because while for a time, refined methods outperform new technologies, it’s like outrunning a toddler. Eventually, the new technology will get its feet under it and take off.
Ross and Sennyey argue that libraries are right now experiencing “diminishing returns as it continues totinker with its traditional protocols and services, while emerging technologies are improving at an exponential rate” (p. 145). I would argue that they don’t go far enough in their description of emerging technology: new technologies have surpassed traditional library methods in several areas of its mission, such as searching, resource discovery, and other areas.
Following are some of the notions in the article that I found interesting, and my thoughts. The relevant pages where these notions came from are listed as well.
1. People aren’t coming to the library to use it as a library anymore - they come for coffee, Facebook, and email. (p. 145)
I cannot argue with this; surveys here indicate that the primary reason someone crosses the gate is for the Java City coffee shop; second to that is (if I recall correctly) use of the computer labs. This may be an unavoidable consequence of offering such services, though. And, computer use for a relatively savvy user is often (from my limited, anecdotal observations) a rapid back-and-forth among multiple tools, web pages, and databases. You may Facebook or AIM, but in the moments between chat messages you’re hitting EBSCOHost or JSTOR to run a search.
2. The identity of “librarian” is itself in question - new technologies will require the reallocation of human resources, and in fact the authors suggest opening up the “professional ranks” to nonlibrarians, or, failing that, incorporate a range of new skills into library education (such as marketing). (p. 147)
I have my own questions about the value of calling librarianship a “profession” in the same sense that lawyers and doctors are considered “professionals,” as opposed to using the word to simply mean “job.” I don’t know what value it might add to actually being a librarian, for instance. Am I a professional? Is there an amount of magic dust embedded in my MLS degree that alters me fundamentally, so that I am a “professional?” I don’t know. I would prefer that librarians have an MLS degree, but I must admit only part of that is the fact that you do learn some useful library stuff on your way to getting that degree. The other part is selfish protection of the job market and hopes that the caché (chuckle) of the job isn’t diluted too much. I have to say, though, that adding marketing and business concepts to the MLS curriculum can only improve the quality of a librarian’s education.
3. The OPAC seems sorely lacking to users familiar with Google or Google Scholar. (p. 148) This is related to another comment about the nature of questions at the reference desk, which the authors suggest focus on the “…structural barriers that libraries themselves impose between the patron and the information, e.g., poorly designed and inconsistent computer interfaces, confusing buildings, and professional jargon…”(p. 147)
Ever since I started working at an actual library, I’ve thought that requiring a student to wade through dozens of unique (and complex) interfaces to do a thorough search of the library’s resources was tantamount to saying “we don’t care if it’s easy.” What student - with assignment deadlines, work, homework, and, frankly, a life - is going to want to sit through the painfully user-surly interfaces that so many databases provide? Especially when something like Google Scholar (for the sake of argument) exists. Scholar may not be the perfect system, but it shows it can be done. So my question is, why aren’t we doing it? I mean, let’s face it: I’m a librarian, and I don’t like using those interfaces. Why would anyone else?
4. Reference questions are decreasing in number, due to reasons such as changing curriculum (less focus on term paper, and more on group work), Web searches being easier and more convenient (though perhaps less successful), and competition from many different information sources (the library no longer being the sole, or even preferred, provider).(p. 149)
I mentioned in an entry a little while back that I thought the traditional reference desk setup was on its way out. In retrospect, I’m not positive that it really is, but I think there is so much more that can be done, reference-wise, that breaks away from the traditional mold. Of course, the fundamental aspect of reference work isn’t going to change: a patron asks a question, and the librarian answers it. But reference at a particular location or time is an artificial constraint, primarily (it seems to me) for convenience. Whither mobile reference? Reference podcasts or audio tours? RFID-based searching? (note, I’m mostly speaking in the context of my own library, as I expect some or all of those may exist at various libraries - in fact, if they do, let me know!)
I think the authors touch on but don’t examine the notion too that students are often quite savvy, and feel that they can handle anything the web throws at them without assistance. Students who are used to handling online searching all the time when they’re not in the library aren’t going to change their habits when they are, and start asking questions about manipulating our databases or other resources. They’re going to move ahead with the knowledge they already have, and if that doesn’t prove to work, then they might ask us. Or they might simply give up.
5. Competition is something to which libraries are culturally unaccustomed. (p. 146)
This is a very good and interesting point, and something I had not really ever considered. In library school, the entire focus was on the library - we did not discuss marketing or competition in any real way. It was as if such things were irrelevant or did not exist. Information vendors were generally cast in the role of providers to the library, and popular search tools were in fact sometimes demonized as inaccurate, non-authoritative, and downright dangerous for real scholarly work. Now, though, as the authors say, the library is faced with competition for attention from numerous angles, and, the authors contend, is showing somewhat poorly for it.
There are further discussions of library collections, and a suggestion that collection building was an anachronistic conceit (p. 150). The authors suggest a more dynamic digital collection, something that changes as the customer needs change, and consists of “rental” contracts that are frequently in flux. However, there is little attention paid to the question of preservation (that is, digital collections can vanish in an instant, so what means is there to have permanent information?) which I think is an oversight by the authors. As any archivist will tell you, digitization is an access mechanism, not a preservation mechanism, and Ross and Sennyey focus too much on the potential of a global digital collection approach and not enough on where the information goes when the hard drives fail.
Finally, the authors address the “library as place” question, which is fairly common in the literature as well. They challenge the accepted notion that the library’s physical presence is ImportantTM (though they acknowledge cultural significance), and argue that the physical presence of the library is already changing because print collections are being used less and less, while other services: study areas, computer labs, and so forth - rise to prominence.
Overall, the article is well written, though at times it is fairly condemning of libraries (and I think a bit extreme in its assumptions that libraries have failed to embrace the new). The language is at times strong (one might say, “bracing”), and it may be somewhat too damning of the library. In large part I believe the authors have a solid point: there are a number of areas where traditional library practices are increasingly outmoded, and failure to perceive this means that disruptive technologies will put the library into a competitive tailspin from which it may not recover. Fortunately, the authors do concede that libraries doperceive the threat and are moving into the new technologies as quickly as organizational culture appears to permit.