Future Panic

So, I'm using part of the weekend to catch up on my backlog of unread articles on Bloglines and I came across this article that I had saved from the New York Times called "Paper Cuts Blog: Skimming the Sunday Reviews." It's a compilation of reviews from sources other than the NYT that were condensed by Times writer Dwight Garner. I'm not sure why I had saved it, although the preliminary text in Bloglines might have caught my eye since the first review was about a book called "Print is dead : books in our digital age" by Jeff Gomez. Now normally that link for the previous title would take you to the entry in the public library catalog. Unfortunately, this particular book is one we don't carry at our library, at least not at the time of this writing. Probably just an oversight. Right?

Anyway, one snippet of the review by Scarlett Thomas of The Independent caught my eye:

The argument set out in this book is quite simple. Times have changed, and while old folk like me persist in buying CDs before putting them on our iPods, and using the Internet to buy, rather than experience, “content,” there is something out there called “Generation Download” that does, like, everything on a computer, and will “ditch the hardback and head over to Facebook” because books are, like, not interactive enough, and too long, and have, like, “boring bits.” … As Gomez says, “Generation Download has no need to go to record stores. Software and websites bring the record stores to them."

Hmm. Ignore, if you can, the dismissive tone in Thomas' summation. That phrase "old folk like me" sort of gives me pause, but filling my iPod via CDs rather than downloading the music directly certainly sounds like me. (Full disclosure, I work in a library and didn't "pay" anything for the music on my iPod-- with the possible exception of the sixty or so titles I can see gathering dust on my shelf.) I remember making a similar argument to my nephews when downloading music via file-sharing was booming and being decried by the music industry as a threat to music itself. Why couldn't those recording industry executives see that electronic distribution would be cheaper and easier than manufacturing and distributing discs? Why not lower prices and dispense with the physical manifestation altogether? Admittedly, part of me likes having the physical backup, in case something happens to my hard drive. And my backup hard drive. But I don't need the discs anymore to enjoy the music. Think about it. You don't listen to the discs, you listen to the music.

Enter the Kindle. The latest device that lets you avoid the printed page. At $399.00 I think it's too expensive. (Remember, I work in a library-- cost to read a new book = $0.00) But it's the same concept as the iPod. You want to read stories, poems, histories, biographies, textbooks, whatever. You want access to the words. Books are our primary means of access. They're the carriers of the words. And words are what we read (and hear). But those words can be carried in a new way. One that requires less storage (and gathers less dust) and can be filled without a trip to the bookstore, mall, or library. Or library.

Which got me thinking about another article I read recently. Called "Time travel," this one was by Niki Denison in the winter 2007 issue of On Wisconsin, the Wisconsin Alumni Association magazine, and touched on some similar issues when talking about alumni who are working at envisioning the future and technological change. She started off by mentioning the singularity and how that near-future scenario of smarter-than-human intelligence has some futurists almost giddy with excitement. There was a sidebar by Bill Draves in the print version of the article (which I can't spot anywhere in the online version) that suggests there are nine societal changes in the near future that will have profound impacts. I'll list them all, but there are some that may have more than a little impact on our present conception of libraries.

1. Most people will work at home.
2. Virtual offices, or Intranets, will replace physical offices.
3. Networks will replace the organizational chart.
4. Trains will replace cars.
5. Suburbs will decline.
6. New social infrastructure will evolve.
7. Values and work ethics will change.
8. Half of all learning will be online.
9. Technology will replace buildings.

That last one, technology will replace buildings, is the one that caught my eye. His context was centered mostly on education (and isn't that part of what libraries are trying to sell?) but Draves goes on to explain:

Higher education has this "edifice complex" -- we're still spending too much money on buildings. In this century, technology expenses have to exceed building expenses, or individual institutions will be in real danger, because buildings are simply obsolete-- they're just a cost.

Given that world-view, it's kind of hard to justify a new library building. Especially when more information is being digitized and made available online. And our library is deep into planning for a new central library building as well as a couple of new branch libraries. How do we justify this, when these new buildings may be obsolete within a generation?

Indeed, how do we justify much of anything we do when such breath-taking change is imminent? Despite our visionary ideals about our mission and relevance, we have to wonder if libraries are destined to become a dead-horse that we're feverishly trying to whip into the future with concepts like Library 2.0, while seeking a niche in Facebook, MySpace or Second Life, and offering video games while serving an aging population and coping with a shrinking budget? Will we be relegated to helping our generation (and older ones) experience just a small amount of what their children and grandchildren will be immersing themselves in daily, while insisting (ever more stridently) that the printed page is still superior to anything the modern age has to offer?

I don't know the answer. I don't know what the future holds. But it will be different. And if it's very different, it may not hold a place for me. Or maybe just not a place where I feel I belong. That's why it scares me.

Your comments, as always, are welcome.