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.

Nine Books For Every Family

So I'm crawling through my bloglines feed from the New York Times (and aren't the Times folks a prolific bunch!) and this article caught my eye. Nice of the president of Chile to think about giving books to the poor families in her country. (I wonder how poor you have to be to qualify as poor in Chile?) However, the article used it as a convenient jumping off point to get their readers to make their own suggestions of which nine books they think should be given (or received, apparently). 131 respondents, so I stopped reading when Harry Potter came up for the third time and no one had yet mentioned To Kill A Mockingbird. Philistines. (pbbtt!!)

Ah, well, what are you gonna do? Then it kind of snuck up on me-- why isn't the the Chilean president making sure that all of her citizens have access to libraries?

Call me a dreamer...

My Friend Flickr

So I spent some time early in week six poking around in Flickr. I read through most of the introductory stuff and the suggested readings for ProjectPlay. And I spent some time looking at some of the pictures. Lots of professional quality work on this site. I mean stunning.

But, the thing is, I don't have a camera.

So there's not a whole lot I see myself doing with this site.

But, it's part of the course, so I'm doing the assignment. (Sorry it's taken so long to get to it. Things are picking up in our department again.) So. On to my assignment. Here's a link to an image I found when I did a search on the term "libraries." (Not usually my first choice for a search term, but I'm trying to have something relevant to say about work, so I took a shot). It appears to be an aerial photo of the Cologne Cathedral and surrounding area in Germany, sometime after the bombing of Cologne in World War II. Not exactly what I was expecting when I was searching the term "library" but it's on the internet so there you go. The member who posted the image wrote that he found it tucked inside a book he purchased for $1.00 at a library's used book sale along with 19 other photos. And there's your library link. 116 people posted comments, which is kind of impressive. Out of a pretty huge site, 116 people found that image and thought it was worth commenting on.

So how does Flickr work in a library setting? I guess it depends on who would be using it. I can see patrons wanting to access the site to see some specific photos from a public internet terminal. That would be fine for a person who knew what they were doing. Flickr is on the internet. We provide internet access. That was easy. But showing a newby how to do it all would be a bit more involved. Especially if the newby needed help to set up an account. There are account sign-ups and passwords to go through, which, having gone through the registration process myself, I'm personally starting to see as more of a barrier to entry than many would want to endure. I read a post (blog? I can't remember) a while back about a public library worker who had helped an individual with some "special needs" set up an account with an online bank that made me thankful I don't work in a public setting.

On the other hand, Flickr for use by staff, whether for internal use or for marketing purposes probably has some potential. Some time back Madison Public Library started a project to get photos of all staff members posted on Flickr. The idea was that we have such a big staff, spread out over so many sites and departments, that it's hard for people to get to know/recognize people who may be known only by name, or job, or email message. So it's kind of a laudable goal. And it could be useful, helpful, interesting and fun.

But it seems to have lost it's momentum and I'm not sure why. It was bound to be a big job, of course. I can imagine that it took longer to do than people thought it would. And I doubt the powers that be actually told the folks who were doing the job that the project was their top priority, that they were excused from all their other duties until the completion of the project, and that they would have all the resources (training, tools, assistance and time) they would need to do the job to the best of their ability. Oh, and that the staff members being photographed would all be agreeable, available, photogenic, and willing to accept that, yes, that photo of them is about as good as you can expect to get.

Add in the need for passwords and other security whatnot that you need to be able to get in and actually view the pictures and, well, enthusiasm just doesn't seem to be that high anymore.

The thing is, it isn't anyone's job to update our Flickr photo site. We don't seem to have a professional photographer on staff. Some of us aren't that keen on having our pictures taken anyway. Some may not like the idea of having their picture floating in cyberspace, particularly if you're identified by name. And the photos need to be taken, uploaded, tagged and named, and generally kept up to date. So it would have to be an ongoing job. These photos could be a fine addition to our collective history. But there's so much other work needed to be done in actively serving our public, that this type of thing will probably always get second class status.

So that's how I view Flickr. It's a great resource for people who have the time and inclination. For a workplace resource, it could be great too. But it needs a level of commitment that we may not be able to make.

As always, your comments are welcome.