"The library now is all about machines. What
are librarians? They are technicians, aren't they? They work with machines all the
time," thus confessed one inquisitive patron who'd befriended me last year. She
said this in a tone of great intimacy, gentleness, and compassionate patience. Her
friendliness and likeableness made me think that she was tackling a fond philosophical
question. And letting it out into the ears of a close confidante would have brought
her deep inner peace.
"What?" My utterance was spontaneous and defenseless.
There were a hundred things I wanted to say
to her about what a library is and what a librarian does.
She was right though. Machines are everywhere
in the library. Bold in public space. But aren't there also machines in the garden?
Machines at home? Machines in our hips, knees, and joints? Machines inside our organs
and elsewhere in our body?
Not only machines as hardware. But machine intelligence.
It runs our search engines, powers our Boolean
operators, and maps our geo-political communities. It also sends our article and
book requests as packets on the sockets; and it links together our physical and
virtual holdings. Lately, it has also stretched out its friendly hand and prepares
our bibliography following the style format of a professional organization. All
in all, we seem to have no objection to its co-existence in our space, sharing the
same stage, being a valued member of the same team when they make our days a little
easier and our tasks more efficient.
Quickly, something inside me became agitated
with this coaxed reasoning. I respect all library people whose collective work makes
library services an organic whole. It becomes disconcerting to me, hearing the library
being equated as a modern world filled with machines and nothing more, and librarians
merely technicians operating search engines and Boolean operators and machines.
We have subject expertise. We search and research.
We organize knowledge. We select books. We design services. We manage, direct and
collaborate. We teach and learn. We lead. We create. We envision. We act. We! And
we are a profession that adheres to the values of intellectual freedom and freedom
of information.
In this issue of Library Update alone, we have
the good fortune to witness the blossoming of librarian talents in words. Carol
Bednar's essay, "Issues in Electronic Government Information," makes us see the
continuity of the vision of our forefather Thomas Jefferson, who proclaimed that
-- "Information is the currency of democracy." Sharon Perry speaks of the University
Archives and Special Collections so that we see art and beauty, culture and different
viewpoints preserved for posterity. Anthony Davis assumes the role of the "legal
interpreter" who guides fair use in a complex environment of "Copyright and Intellectual
Property." Matt Mallard's "Opining on Technology" helps us test and ponder on the
co-evolution of humans and technology. Barbie McConnell traces the "Eighteenth-Century
Precursors to Modern Libraries" so that we are in touch with our origins and roots
on our paths to evolution and progress.
These colleagues and their expertise make me
confident to say to my naïve friend: It's fair enough to say it is unfair to thus
misconceive the library and our profession. April 13-19 marks the 50th Anniversary
of National Library Week, a week first designated by the American Library Association
in 1958 as a day of national observance to celebrate the contributions of libraries
and library workers.
There are worlds and galaxies of libraries out
there, of which ours is an integral part. Libraries have allies everywhere. And
readers, writers of books, and champions of libraries. Their numbers are multitudinous.
I will only name two, and I readily side with them both.
Ray Bradbury, the beloved author of Fahrenheit
451, said, "Reading is at the center of our lives. The library is our brain. Without
the library, we have no civilization." He also said that if two buildings were to
remain intact (after a devastating earthquake that would have tumbled every structure)
in order to rebuild everything, they'd be the medical building and the library.
Ursula K. Le Guin, a visionary author of our
time who knows and writes passionately about science, nature, culture, humans and
technology, thus predicts the role of books and reading: "The continuous existence
of books is a great part of our continuity as an intelligent species. We know it:
we see their willed destruction as an ultimate barbarism."
So, dear friend, No. The library is not all
about machines. Nor is our profession mere machine operators. There will be books
in the library, and music and art and science and... There will be humane, wise,
and knowledgeable librarians, staff, students, and volunteers in the library, contributing
to the health of a civilization.
And we shall not commit barbarism.
By Jie Tian
Editor in Chief & Chair, Library Publications Board
jtian@fullerton.edu