Last night I wrote a post that started, "Rory Litwin at Library Juice has written a great piece on "Questioning the Techie Mission.""
My friend Jenny posted the following comment: "I am not even going to begin commenting on this, but I am wondering
what you thought about the "ways to lose your techie librarian" lists.
I mean Rory’s writing seems a lot like the thinking those lists points
out as forcing techie (or tech competent) librarians out of libraries.
So I would wonder what you thought about the lists…."
I am moving my reply to the front page, if you will, and out of the comments because I’d like it to get more exposure than if it was buried in the comments.
In the interest of those who only want the synopsis, here is the gist of my reply to Jenny in the comments of that post. Further explication for those who don’t mind a bit of sustained reading follows:
But the short answer is that I see no conflict. Can (do?) others?
Probably. I see two ways to take Rory’s comments in relation to the
"lose your techie" lists depending on whether one is an unrepentant
technophile or an unrepentant tech obstructionist. And both of those
groups need to be publicly humiliated in my not-so-humble (in this
case) opinion.
Yes, I did read many of those lists. I also agreed with much that is on them. I have even, in some small sense, been one of those tech librarians who left. The problem at "my library" was not that they had no tech vision. It was that it was driven from the top and the top was completely clueless as to how to get from the bottom of the valley to the mountain top. Thus, they were guilty of many things on the lists. My issue was that I was attempting to help get them where they wanted to be, to be a Sherpa or even a simple pack animal. But just as in any major expedition, if you ignore your guide or even your pack animals you are bound to fail at some point.
I was the only one doing anything remotely close to what one specific "grand vision" was. My boss and I had taken things as far as we could, but we needed help with a few issues. Keep in mind, all of these issues existed in and were 100s of times larger in the "grand vision." We had organized other staff (mostly) and faculty within the library (mostly systems folks) who were willing to give us some of their time and expertise. We did not require large amounts of money, nor even necessarily other resources. What we needed was some policy guidance and priority setting from those who could set it. And yes, in many cases we had already submitted draft policies only to have them lost by the person at the top who was the approval authority (one of the things on some of the lists).
As for systems help, it was mostly of the mashup variety kind of thing. A few SQL queries written to get things out of the Voyager database, something (simple, really) coded up to help us manage copyright issues other than 1000s of individual pieces of paper and my bosses, and my, memory.
But we could get absolutely no support for what we needed. And I could not get listened to by those with "grand visions," even though I was the only one in the building with any current knowledge of anything related to the basic processes which constituted this specific "grand vision." Since we could not get listened to, we could not get the folks with the power to say, "Yes, you systems folks can devote 5 hours a week to this project." Thus, we were stuck with an archaic technology that worked reasonably well when we had several hundred records, but was completely unable to scale when we had over 3000 records and were growing by a few hundred records a week on average. Also, due to other changes on campus and in the library, this service needed to grow even more. Unlike Dorothea’s issues with growing an institutional repository, we had long passed the tipping point in selling our service, but it was still being actively sold. Business was pouring in. We were making do for the meantime, but I was extremely unhealthy. I cared too much about the mission and for my bosses success, if that is possible.
I don’t have any hard figures, but my understanding is that this very basic pedagogical library support service was significantly scaled back after I left; just as it needed to grow even more.
I know this is a long, hard way to get in this post without even addressing the question. But, I wanted to ensure that people understand that I have been there. I have done some of this. I have left an untenable tech situation. I initially just tried to move elsewhere within the library as my skills and knowledge were not valued, except in the routine daily production mode, but that soon became untenable for other reasons and I left.
Here is a link to one of Michael Stephen’s posts where he collected links and added more thoughts on ways to lose techie librarians. And here are some of his points from his initial post:
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2. Plan technology projects without involving them until the wheels are in motion/contracts are signed
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4. Allow barriers to exist that make it difficult for IT staff and librarians to plan and collaborate
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5. Bog down their projects in red tape and approvals that take weeks or months to get
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10. Always ensure that non-technical people make the important technical decisions
Here’s one from Karen Schneider’s list:
- 3. Be sure to throw around the phrase "professional staff" in the
presence of library tech workers who do not have library degrees. So
what if they have degrees in computer science or decades of skill, if
they aren’t librarians?
And for an alternate view, see Jessamyn on "…and about those techie librarians."
Many of those I selected from Michael’s list are directly related to my issues I mentioned above. It once took me over 10 weeks to get access to a piece of software that cost $25 for a single-license version. We had a 60-license agreement in the library, which meant about $8 for the license I needed, but they were all in use. Now keep in mind, this is after I have proven to all concerned parties that having this piece of software would literally double productivity (and improve accuracy) in one of the most critical steps in our process. This was not a question of how fast we could pay for it or some other logistical issue. It was simply a matter of focus. Someone in charge had to tell someone else to make it happen. Once that was decided, a copy was located on a workstation that wasn’t even using it all.
As for Karen’s point 3, personally I think it applies even more broadly. Here are some comments, also from my 1st LIS class in 2004:
“Profession” vs. what – unprofessional? I have spent 6 years in an
academic library split evenly as a student worker/student supervisor
and as a staff member. Whenever I hear "professionals" say "I do more
than shelve books" I just want to round up all of the staff and
students and leave the building to the "professionals." Then they might
actually see that they are not the ones to make the library actually
work on a daily basis. And as a career military person with a son who
has now experienced the horrors of war for his country, I have a hard
time putting into words how divisive such talk is. At least in the
military there is no talk of officers being the "professionals" while
the rest of us are–what?
I understand that there needs to be some differentiation between degreed librarians and other forms of staff, and I understand the sociological concept of "professions." Yes, I have read Abbott. But, this label is nothing but divisive. Words are powerful. And besides having a denotation they also carry connotations, and these connotations are not the same for different peoples.
I can look at all of those lists and find almost nothing to disagree with. Tech folks need training. Tech folks need to go to conferences. They need to be valued members of the team. Their expertise needs to be recognized. And so on. What the heck is there to disagree with?
As for Rory’s specific points and how they might relate to these lists [Caveat: I do not, and am not attempting to, speak for Rory Litwin. Any comments here are strictly my interpretation of his words.]:
I question the value in
being advocates or missionaries for technology, and question the
assumptions behind that posture. Technology advances strongly and
securely enough without the help of technology advocates, and as
librarians there are more important ends to pursue (often with
technology as part of the means, but always with explicit reasoning).
I fully agree with every word in these sentences. Could they be teased apart, nuanced a bit perhaps? Certainly. But I doubt that most any reasonable person would disagree with any of it once that was done.
Does this preclude being an advocate for a specific technology in a specific use? Certainly not! See the parenthetical comment in the last sentence. Technologies should always be used with explicit reasoning. Sometimes that reasoning is far easier than other times, but it should still be done. And yes, sometimes play is a good thing, as long as the reasons for play have been considered.
I’ll skip some of his points on certain assumptions because I don’t see them as relevant to the topic at hand.
That library users and potential library users are generally
underserved at present because of the slowness of libraries’ adoption
of new technologies. This is an assumption that can be questioned
objectively, and may turn out to be true, but hasn’t yet really been
tested. It is assumed irrationally.
Can anyone really debate this. There is some "data," mostly from surveys. But that proves nothing until you’ve done a serious analysis of the survey instrument, the sample, and so on. Dangit! I can’t remember who, but someone recently posted about surveys and how folks answer certain ways because they think the surveyor, society, etc. think they should. Surveys are useful, but they have serious issues as real data. Rory’s point is that this is an untested assumption.
…such technologies and all of their effects are automatically good. Technology is a cause
to fight for, us against them. This is an assumption that many techie
librarians make at a deep level, leading to a fervent zeal that seems
very curious to those of us who fail to see its basis.
Again, personally, I can’t argue. But then I’ve done a lot of work in the history, philosophy, and sociology of technology. It is extremely hard to see these pro-technology biases unless one has, and even then it is still hard.
As for the tech-centric focus of much of the biblioblogosphere feeling alienating to many librarians, well, I certainly have no stats, but I know it is the case, in several cases at least, based on personal knowledge and discussion.
Because of the dominance of the library blogosphere by tech promoters,
the assumptions behind the tech-promotional mission of many librarians
are unlikely to be questioned within their own culture.
Yep. Even if only me, I do do less questioning than I meant to, and would like to.
There has been little examination, that I am aware of, of technophilia
as an ideology. It is an ideology, and a very strange one. As an
ideology it is a lens through which things are are rendered according
to a set of values in the act of seeing. But unlike the ideologies of
Right and Left, these values don’t spring from any idea of what is
essential to humanity, but from something else: a prioritization of the
process of controlling and reshaping the world through the use of ever
more complex tools, and of our own adaptation to that artificial world
and to those tools. As ideologies go, seen at its root, it is rather
perverse.
I would love to sit over some coffee or a good beer with Rory and really tease apart what he meant by "it is a lens through which things are rendered according
to a set of values in the act of seeing." I think I agree, but I also would describe it in other ways. Technology is definitely driven by our visual culture. And visual culture has and leads to serious moral issues. ‘Causes’ moral issues might be too strong, but that is the natural tendency of a visual culture, especially a consumer-driven visual culture. But I certainly agree with every other word in that paragraph.
I’m going to stop with the direct citing of Rory’s post now because I’m boring myself. Not because his words are boring, but mostly because he does not need me to "defend" him. Personally, I find these words of his inspirational.
So back to the point of this lengthy post:
My friend Jenny posted the following comment: "I am not even going to begin commenting on this, but I am wondering
what you thought about the "ways to lose your techie librarian" lists.
I mean Rory’s writing seems a lot like the thinking those lists points
out as forcing techie (or tech competent) librarians out of libraries.
So I would wonder what you thought about the lists…."
I see absolutely no conflict between Rory’s post and the how to keep/lose your tech librarians. Can, do, will others? I have no doubt that they will. I see two ways to take Rory’s comments in relation to the
"lose your techie" lists depending on whether one is an unrepentant
technophile or an unrepentant tech obstructionist. And both of those
groups need to be publicly humiliated in my not-so-humble (in this
case) opinion.
Some (many?) of the folks who unquestioningly embrace most any technology will take severe umbrage at his words. Those are the ones who most need to take a step back and learn about unintended consequences and the moral implications of rampant unquestioned technology use.
As for the obstructionists latching on to his words and saying, "See we told you. We can’t / shouldn’t / won’t do that with technology…." Well, they need to wake up too. And they also need to re-read his words. He never said any such thing. He claimed that there is a rampant unquestioned push towards the implementation of technology in much of the biblioblogosphere and that that is not a good thing for various reasons. He did not accuse everyone of it. He did not say all technology is bad. What he did say is correct. When he did make a claim he was careful to nuance it and to point out which were empirically testable.
I see absolutely nothing in his words that impact one way or the other the various "lose your techie" lists. As for having any sort of answer myself, well, I’m sorry but I don’t. On that point, I would again say see Jessamyn on "…and about those techie librarians." And be sure to follow the links in her post.
There is a very large middle ground here. I like to think that I, and many others, are in it. I do agree with Rory that it at least seems as if much of the biblioblogosphere is firmly on the pro-technology side. And some of them are very denigrating to any on the other side of the middle, and honestly to many in the middle. Personally, I find the pro side to be the most dangerous, by far. That is not to say that some of the people completely afeared of any technology newer than the horseless carriage aren’t denigrating also. I could name one prime example and so-called leader.
Again, I see no overlap between "the thinking those lists points
out" and Rory’s post. Absolutely none, except for the far "right" and the far "left" in this ideology of technology. And make no mistake, that it is. I hope to engage with people in the vast middle ground. In my mind, those are people like Rory Litwin, Walt Crawford, Meredith Farkas, Jenica Rogers, Angel, Jessamyn West and many, many others. I full well know that many people might would put some of them elsewhere than middle, but at the moment I’m the one writing about technology and it’s my list.
Things will be better when we all can finally start discussing and not dissing each other, drawing lines, and so forth. And, yes, I question. I probe. I ask people to reconsider or nuance. It is intended as critique, and not as criticism in the negative sense. Unfortunately, I have learned that it is not welcomed and, in fact, is completely untolerated in much of the biblioblogosphere. I almost feel bad about trying to invite Rory to the table last night. Maybe I was in a better mood then, but now I’m not so sure I should have been so encouraging. But then, some of us can always go sit at the folding, card table off in the corner just like we had to do as children during large family gatherings. Maybe there we can have our own nuanced discussions and learn from each other as we help each other figure out just what it is we think.
There is so much more that could be said, but I have to finish indexing a book. By hand. With 3×5 cards. Some may consider me a Luddite on occasion, and if so I’ll wear the label proudly, but there is a definite pedagogical purpose in doing it this way. And that is the point. I am rationally and morally using the correct technology for this learning exercise. Just as should be the case no matter the task or the technology at hand.