Offical blog of the Ontario Library and Information Technology Association

The Knight Foundation News Challenge Entries That I Have Applauded

The Knight News Challenge has been issued and it’s about libraries:
How might we leverage libraries as a platform to build more knowledgeable communities? 

I’m reviewing these entries because I think some of them might prove useful in a paper I’m currently writing. There are some reoccurring themes to the entries that I think are quite telling.

Of the 680 entries, there’s some wonderful ideas that need to be shared. Here are some of the proposals that I’ve applauded:

    For the purposes of my paper, I’m interested in the intersections of Open Data and Libraries. Here are the entries that touch on these two topics:

    And I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I am also collaborating on this entry:

    OVER UNDER AROUND THROUGH: a national library-library game to build civic engagement skills: OVER UNDER AROUND THROUGH is kinda like a dance-off challenge: libraries challenge each other – but instead of “show us your moves” the challenge is “show us how you would take on” actual community challenges such as economic disparity and racial tensions

    In many ways, this Knight News Challenge is just such a dance-off.

    The story of our future : This changes everything

    In the middle of her column that is ostensibly about the television series Red Band Society, New Yorker critic Emily Nausbaum summarized John Green’s YA bestseller The Fault in Our Stars with insight:

    Among the many appealing qualities of Green’s novel is how much it’s about storytelling itself, and the way in which books function as a badge of identity, a marker of taste and values… For all it’s romantic contours, “The Fault in Our Stars” is centrally a dialectic about why people seek out stories, one that never quite takes a stand on the question of whether we’re right to wish for greater clarity in our art, characters we can “relate” to, or, for that matter, a happy ending.

    If you had to encapsulate the future of libraries as a story, what story would that be?

    Stewart Brand’s How Buildings Learn?

    In this world, technology creates a fast, globalised world where digital services and virtual presence are commonplace. Overall, the mood is fairly optimistic, but digitalisation and connectivity soon create too much information and format instability, so there is a slight feeling of unease amongst the general population. Physical books are in slight decline in this world although library services are expanding. The reason for this is that public libraries now take on a wide range of e-government services and are important as drop-in centres for information and advice relating to everything from education and childcare to immigration. In this scenario, libraries have also mutated into urban hubs and hangouts; vibrant meeting places for people and information that house cafés, shops, gyms, crèches, theatres, galleries and various cultural activities and events.

    William Gibson’s Neuromancer?

    This is a world gone mad. Everything is accelerating and everything is in short supply and is priced accordingly. Electricity prices are sky-high and the internet is plagued by a series of serious issues due to overwhelming global demand. In this scenario, public libraries are initially written-off as digital dinosaurs, but eventually there is a swing in their favour as people either seek out reliable internet connections or because there is a real need for places that allow people to unplug, slow down and reflect. In this world, information also tends to be created and owned by large corporations and many small and medium sized firms cannot afford access. Therefore, public libraries also become providers of business information and intelligence. This creates a series of new revenue streams but funding is still tight and libraries are continually expected to do more with less and less funding and full-time staff.

    Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451?

    This world is a screenager’s paradise. It is fast-paced, global and screen-based. Digitalisation has fundamentally changed the way that people consume information and entertainment, but it has also changed the way that people think. this is a post-literate world where physical books are almost dead and public libraries focus on digital collections and virtual services. In this scenario, books take up very little physical space so more space is given over to internet access, digital books and various other forms of digital entertainment. Public libraries blur the boundaries with other retailers of information and entertainment and also house mental health gyms, technology advice desks, download centres and screening rooms. Despite all this, public libraries struggle to survive due to a combination of ongoing funding cuts, low public usage and global competition. 

    Or Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring?

    In this scenario, climate change turns out to be much worse than expected. Resource shortages and the high cost of energy in particular mean that the physical movement of products and people is greatly reduced and individuals are therefore drawn back to their local communities. It is a world where globalisation slows down, digital technology is restrained and where all activities are related to community impact. Public libraries do well in this world. People become voracious consumers of physical books (especially old books) and libraries are rediscovered and revered by the majority of the population due to their safety and neutrality. they are also highly valued because they are free public spaces that promote a wide variety of community-related events. Nevertheless, there are still pressures caused by the high cost of energy and the need to maintain facilities. The phrase ‘dark euphoria’ (Bruce Sterling) sums up the mood in this scenario, because on one level the world is falling apart but on another level people are quite content. 

    These scenarios come from a remarkable document produced five years ago in 2009 for The Library Council of New South Wales called The Bookends Scenarios [pdf].

    It’s the only document in the library literature that I’ve seen that seriously addresses our global warming future.  It’s the only one that I’ve come across that confronts us and forces us to consider how we may shape our institution and our services now so we can be there for our community when its in greatest need.

    If you had to encapsulate the future as a story, what story would that be?

    I suffer from dark euphoria.  I worry about global warming.

    That’s why I’m going to take part in the People’s Climate March in New York City on September 21th, 2014.

    I’m going because our leaders are not even talking about taking the necessary action to reduce atmospheric carbon and to mitigate the effects of climate change.  This is a movement that requires all of us to become the leaders that we so desperately need.

    There’s a book that goes with this march: This changes everything.

    I’m not normally one for marches. I share the suspicion that gatherings and marches themselves don’t change anything.

    But events change people. There are events that define movements.

    You couldn’t have an Occupy Movement without Occupy Wall Street.  And without Occupy Wall Street, we wouldn’t have had Occupy Sandy.

    Fight to #EndRacism…for #ClimateJustice. #peoplesclimate BOOM
    — REEP (@reep_ace) September 14, 2014

    I understand the feelings of helplessness and darkness when reading or hearing about another terrifying warning about the threat of global warming. I struggle with these feelings more than I care to admit.

    I find solace from these feelings from a variety of different sources beyond my family, friends and community.  Of these, the study of history oddly enough, gives me great comfort.  It has helped me find stories to help me understand the present.

    There are those who call the Climate Change Movement, the second Abolition Movement, and I think this description is fitting for several reasons. For one, it gets across that we need to draw upon our shared moral fortitude to make it politically necessary to force those in power to forfeit profit from oil and coal, which unchecked, will continue to cost us grievous human suffering.

    It also describes the sheer enormity of the work that must be done. The analogy makes clear how it will be necessary to change every aspect of society to mitigate climate change at this point.

    And yet, it has happened before.  Ordinary people came together to stop slavery.

    On that note, and I hope I’m not spoiling it for you, I took great comfort in the last passage of David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas, a book of several pasts and a future.

    Upon my return to San Francisco, I shall pledge myself to the abolitionist cause, because I owe my life to a self-freed slave & because I must begin somewhere.

    I hear my father-in-law’s response:  “Oho, fine, Whiggish sentiments, Adam.  But don’t tell me about justice!  Ride to Tennessee on an ass and convince the rednecks they are merely white-washed negroes and their negroes are black-washed whites!  Sail to the Old World, tell ‘em their imperial slaves’ rights are as inalienable as the Queen of Belgium’s!  Oh, you’ll grow hoarse, poor and gray in caucuses!  You’ll be spat upon, shot at, lynched, pacified with medals, spurned by backwoodsmen! Crucified!  Naïve, dreaming Adam.  He who would do battle with the many headed hydra of human nature must pay a world of pain and his family must pay it along with him! And only as you gasp your dying breath shall you understand your life amounted to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean!”

    Yet what is any ocean but a multitude of drops?

    My Top Tech Trend: One Click Server Installs: New Realms

    On Sunday I was part of the ALA Annual Conference’s Top Tech Trends Panel, which I shared with good company:

    You can watch the 90 minute discussion on YouTube if you’d like (my five minutes of fame begin at 11:35). Some of us are writing up notes and links from the event. Here are the words that I meant to say:

    You may not know this but already thousands of families around the world are already taking advantage of my top tech trend for this year, which is One-Click Server Installs. Since March, thousands in the US are using this particular technology from the company Mojang through its new service called Minecraft Realms. Minecraft Realms allows users to have private Minecraft servers hosted by Mojang for $13 a month for up to 20 people. As such, Minecraft Realms allow for a safe, private place for kids to build collaboratively with their their friends across the neighbourhood and even with their cousins across the country.

    Now, for a long time, Mojang made Minecraft available to be installed on servers but this ability was restricted to those who had the ability and the means to install software on a server.  And that’s why I’m so excited about this particular technology: it promises to lower the barrier of access to a whole set of powerful software to the end user and to the end library.

    For example, the CUNY Graduate Center is currently developing DH Box. Their mission is to make well established Digital Humanities software including Omeka, NLTK, IPython, R Studio, and Mallet readily available on a pre-configured DH server so scholars and future scholars can get to the business of using software for investigations instead of spending their time doing the labor intensive work of installing it all.

    I’m not sure what software that they are going to use to run this project but it’s likely that it’s going to be one of the big three in this space: Chef, Puppet or Docker. What this type of software does is that it automates the process of setting up a server. You see, if you’ve never set a server up before, you might not know that there are a number of processes that have to happen in step in order to get a machine ready for production. First the server software has to be installed on the server, and the programming languages for the software that you then install install next. And then there are the program dependencies and modules that have to be to be in place and then everything has to be configured so it can all work together. Once all the hard work of setting up the steps is in place, this type of software remembers the process not unlike a recipe, so the next time you need a similar server, it will run all these steps for you. In fact, I’ve already seen people on twitter swap recipes for servers – such as one for a Data Science Box that’s hosted on github.

    And if you don’t have a computer under your desk to install server software, there are services such as Amazon EC2 that give you cloud computers which you can use to load software on and Amazon Web Services Marketplace that provides one-click pre-configured server instances so you can try out software such as ThinkUp or try your hand at languages and frameworks such as Ruby on Rails.

    If you are not interested in using Amazon there are other companies that provide this type of service, such as Heroku. And, in what I think it is an interesting development, last month or so Google announced that its own cloud computing services would be making much more use of Docker. What that actually means I’m not sure, so we’ll have to see about that.

    But what I do know is that there are other related projects that libraries should keep an eye on. In particular, the Digital Library of America recently put in a proposal for e-rate funding – which is funding from the FCC that is used by libraries and schools to provide internet access to the people in their communities – and the DPLA’s proposal is that they provide digitization software – presumably using the server automation tools that we’re talking about – to public libraries so everyone can get involved in making community collections more readily available.

    So those the reasons why I’m very excited about this technology trend. And I’m also excited to now hear from my fellow panelists about their choices. Thank you.

    As this was a panel discussion, there were opportunities to ask and answer questions from both the audience and those on stage.  I got my nose in there a several times.

    In response to an audience question about what type of hardware to buy for the library in a mobile-first world, I suggested that we consider what sort of work our users would like to engage in when they are at the library.  While we use mobile phones and tablets to access information during the day, especially during commutes and when we crash on the sofa at the end of a hard day, there is still a need for machines for those who do things, when we are engaged in ‘long-form’ work such as editing video.

    In response to Bohyun Kim’s introduction to Bio-hackerspaces, I mentioned that O’Reilly publishing has books supporting biology and chemistry projects in the home.

    In response to a great question from a colleague from Columbia about how to expand services when resources are scarce, I suggested partnering with organizations such as Hackerspaces where there are frequently civic-minded technology enthusiasts who would love to use their skills in meaningful work and that gives back to the community.

    In response to Roger Schonfeld’s trend of antidisciplatory discovery:

    .@copystar has good idea re: using syllabi and faculty reading lists as raw material for recommendation services. #alaac14 #alattt
    — jason clark (@jaclark) June 29, 2014

    One place in the conversation where I missed my opportunity to speak up was after David’s response to our moderator’s question of whether always available mobile connection would affect our  work-life balance.  David’s response was there was little he could do if his employees wanted to work outside of established working hours because they loved their job.

    Chris Bourg rightly followed up on this response

    how abt asking about gender & class w/ respect to work-life balance & empoyer-provided mobile phones? #alattt
    — Chris Bourg (@mchris4duke) June 29, 2014

    And I am grateful that she brought this up.  Because I respectfully disagree with David’s response:  I believe that the ever-constant of contact with work means and will increasing mean that more employees will be responding to work emails at home because of increasing expectations from their place of work.

    When childcare, housework, and eldercare fall predominantly on women’s shoulders, the constant labour that is involved along with keeping up with technology, much less dealing with the expectation to contribute to open source projects, is difficult to achieve in one’s “spare time” when you are a woman.

    Adding salt to the wound, where I live, IT professionals fall outside of normal employment standards. They are not even entitled to time to eat. For real.

    But it doesn’t have to be this way:

    French labor contract accounts for after hours electronics. #alaac14 #alattt
    — Chris Strauber (@cstrauber) June 29, 2014

    Our panel discussion was designed to generate a wider discussion (see #alattt ) and I would like to thank LITA for letting me be a part of it and what I hope will be a longer conversation about technology and the world we want.

    And on that note, I’m going to sign off so I can install Minecraft on our family’s new-to-us laptop so we can collectively build together in our own local LAN server.  After that perhaps, we will explore new Realms.

    The Origin of the Future is in the Present

    This is the text and slides from my keynote address at the 2014 Library Technology Conference on March 19, 2014. Thank you very much for the organizers for inviting me.

    I would like to begin at the beginning. I would like to begin with an origin story.

    Origin stories can be found in comic books. Even those of us don’t regularly read comics  already seem to know the backstory of how Batman, Spiderman, and Superman came to be. Origin stories, of course, also hold an important place in our mythologies: Here is Athena, goddess of wisdom and of warfare, springing, fully formed and armored, from the head of Zeus.

    Origin stories are still popular today. Almost every tech start up seems to have a one. HP’s  humble beginnings in a small garage. Twitter’s cultural tipping point during South by Southwest in 2007.  Facebook’s turbulent origins that were worthy of a movie.

    Women in technology have a practice of sharing their origin stories. Sumana Harihareswara shared hers at the OSBridge Conference some years ago where she described how she became involved in community organizing around open source software.

    Sharing an origin story, such as the moment you found wanting to know more about computer programming, is useful for several reasons. First, it reminds us that there are many origin stories out there and that there is not one set path that we must follow to a destination. And origin stories remind us – that it is often moments of enchantment or illumination that first capture our imagination and then our attention and *that* is what sets us on a path to a profession or lifetime pursuit.

    I would like you to take a moment to think about your own origin story when it comes to libraries. And I give you permission to ask other people about their origin story over the course of the 2014 Library Technology Conference, perhaps use as an icebreaker if you find yourself beside someone you don’t know.

    I’m not going to start this talk by telling you my library origin story, I’m going to share with you another woman’s .  See if you can recognize it.  And no googling as this text is pretty much taken directly  from the biography that I found on her official website.

    This woman…

    …was born in McMinnville, Oregon, and, until she was old enough to attend school, lived on a farm in a town so small it had no library. Her mother arranged with the State Library to have books sent to her town and acted as librarian in a lodge room upstairs over a bank. She loved to read books but when the family moved to Portland, she found herself in the school’s low reading circle, an experience that has gave her sympathy with struggling readers.

    By third grade she had conquered reading and spent much of her childhood either with books or on her way to and from the public library. The school librarian once suggested that she should write for boys and girls when she grew up. The idea appealed to her, and she decided that someday she would write the books that she longed to read but was unable to find on the library shelves: funny stories about her neighborhood and the sort of children she knew. 

    And so Ramona Quimby, Henry Huggins, Ellen Tebbits, and her other beloved characters were born.

    If you haven’t guessed it already, that was the official biography of children’s author Beverly Cleary, –  a life that was formed and defined by libraries.

    I have friends who grew up with not much. They’ve told me that, like for Beverly Clearly, the library was an oasis in their childhood. It was an abundance of riches that could be drawn from time and time again.

    Libraries were and remain a place of generosity.  For libraries are not just a place for those who have an appetite for reading that outpaces what they can afford but remain a refuge for students, for the elderly, for the disenfranchised, *for anyone* who needs to come in from the rain and find a place to sit down.

    I’ve been asked to open today’s conference with a look forward to the future of libraries.  I’ve told stories about the Future of Libraries before and it’s always been my best received work.  But as we know from the small print of so many investment commercials, past performance cannot be considered an indicator of future performance.

    And that is the challenge of what we have, collectively, together before us:  How can we make a future of libraries that is as important and as generous as our past?

    What will be the future of the library if the Internet continues to make text no longer scarce and makes our abundance, no longer impressive?  And what will be the future of our world at large? Will our children live in a world of scarcity or abundance?  Endless austerity or the dawn of post-scarcity?

    Will the academic library of the future look like this: a study hall with wifi?

    Will the public library look like this?

    This is how the residents of Præstø Denmark get into their library. They have to swipe their social security card for entrance. And they have to do so because there is no library staff in their completely “open service” library. As the essay that this image links to suggests, this library is the surveillance state brought to its logical conclusion.

    If these two scenarios are our future, what will form the library origin stories of our future readers, our future advocates, and our future colleagues?

    In my previous talks, I have framed the Future of Libraries through the telling of five different stories.  The premise is that these investigations are not unlike the story of the five blind men and the elephant: each describe the shape of something emerging in the present, but the whole remains elusive.  And I have two disclaimers: I am not a futurist, nor do I suggest that these possible futures are inevitable.

    In my 2013 The Future of the Library (And How to Stop It) Talk: I told these five stories.  They are stories that describe the strange ways libraries have been turned inside out.  About how our collections have gone online and our buildings are now designed to collect people. I told stories of how libraries are now created by activists and artists as community building exercises. And I told how we, as librarians, can help in these efforts by providing linked open data as well as the doing the work of digitizing and capturing the digital human record.

    It is 2014 and I now have five new stories to tell you. 

    Let’s begin with 1000 True Fans

    I began this talk with a story of an author so shaped by libraries that it defined her life and work.

    Now let me tell you the story of another author. He wrote his last novel here, in the Central Library of Amsterdam.  I don’t know what effect libraries had on him when he was younger, but I do know that is a strong advocate of libraries today.

    We know many other authors who champion libraries and defend them when necessary. Some that come to mind include Cory Doctorow, Zadie Smith, Neil Gaiman, and Lemony Snicket.

    Many authors – especially those who write for children and young adults – recognize how valuable the work of connecting books with readers that is done by librarians. They value the school and public librarians who create the space – both physical and intellectual – where the reading choices of young people are taken seriously.

    But while many authors may love libraries, the organizations that represent their interests like the Authors Guild and their respective publishers have a much more adversarial relationship with us, as institutions.

    There are several reasons for this, but I think it’s safe to say that the situation has escalated largely because creative work remains time-consuming and emotionally expensive to produce while advances in technology has made such work very easy and almost free to reproduce.

    When librarians ask how can we preserve ebooks and make them available in our collections for future generations, the answer we frequently receive in return is, How can do you expect a creative person to make a living these days?  

    Keeping in mind that this doesn’t answer the question we asked nor is it the question that we were established as an institution to answer,  let’s try to answer this question. If just for our friends, our authors.

    Remember the Long Tail?  This was the conceptual model that came out in 2004 that helped us understand the brave new world of online shopping. It wasn’t that long ago – yet it’s hard to remember – when our choices of what our next book, album or movie to spend time with was restricted to what was physically available in your town, stocked in a local store or library.

    The theory of the long tail is that physical retailers can only stock a limited amount of products so they sell only the ‘popular hits’ to make the most money, while online retailers of digital products have no such limitations and so they can aggregate the sales of the ‘long tail’ of less popular niche products.

    Over the last ten years, the long tail has proven to be good for two groups of people; the first are the people who run these aggregators of culture : Amazon, iTunes, and Netflix. The second group of people are consumers, who have never as much access to different entertainment choices as they do today.

    But the long tail is a decidedly mixed blessing for creators… The long tail does not raise the sales of creators much, but it does add massive competition and endless downward pressure on prices.

    Other than aim for a blockbuster hit, what can an artist do to escape the long tail?

    One solution is to find 1,000 True Fans

    That passage is from author Kevin Kelly who suggests that a True Fan is one who is willing to support an artist’s work for the tune of $100 a year.

    In 2008, Kelly’s suggestion was considered audacious. But I think the future will show how on target he really was.

    Now, I’m not saying that this model is fair but I will say that for some types of content and for some artists, this model is working.  For example, there are podcasts and web comics that are freely available online and where the artist compensation is largely derived from sales of tshirts and other promotional items. And, in the example of NPR, funding for free content and news service comes through pledge drives.

    Whether we call it crowd-funding or public patronage, it is one of the few models that exist as an alternative to advertising.  We are starting to see crowd-funding is starting to supplement other creative activities as well.

    We’re starting to see crowd-funded journalists…

    …crowd-funded programmers…

    crowd-funded criticism ….

    and even crowd-funded activists.

    And I think we are starting to see a new kind of author who writes for children and who understands the importance of having True Fans.

    The children’s author of the future, I believe is going to be more like John Green.

    If you haven’t heard of John Green yet, you will probably will soon as his latest book, The Fault in Our Stars is going be released shortly as a major motion picture. John Green wrote a large part of that work while in a writer in residence in Amsterdam.

    John and his brother Hank have a video channel called the vlogbrothers that they started seven years ago. If the number of fans can be thought of as equivalent to the number of YouTube subscribers, they have 1.8 million of them.  And there are many more than 1000 True Fans among them.  Indeed, their non-profit organization, Project For Awesome has raised over $2.1 million dollars over the last 5 years for charitable projects that are both nominated and picked by their fans.

    I bring attention to their work because I can find no better example of artists who understand how to use the internet as platform for engagement for their fans to connect to each other. They have seem to have taken the lessons of the long tail to heart and through their various side-projects such as their record label, tshirt store, fan conventions, and Subbable, their subscription service for already free videos, they have become aggregators of the work many other artists.

    Of course, not every author can or will be as successful as John Green, but his story suggests that finding 1000 true fans for each author  – which remains still a very difficult and challenging achievement -   isn’t as outrageous as it sounded in 2008. 

    We can extend the work that libraries already do – connecting readers with works – by helping and supporting local authors find and connect to readers.  We can do this by starting or continuing hosting writers in residence programs and writing circles.  And we can look to the niche publishing models that seem to be surviving despite the Internet. In particular, I’m thinking about how we might borrow from the various science-fiction and fan conventions which creates an International circuit that brings authors and artists to their readers every year.

    Maybe it’s not enough for us to just provide access to books. Perhaps libraries should work together and create or our own circuit of events to help maintain and grow a reading and writing culture and connect it to the already thriving participatory culture on the internet. We organize wonderful conferences for each other in the profession. Perhaps we should host conferences for our own communities.

    We can learn from John Green. Perhaps the best way to save print is to teach authors how to record and edit sound and video at the library.

    Story Two: Making a Mesh of Things

    Now suppose you wanted to create an audio and video studio in your library. Because we work in institutions, this usually requires having to make a case for it and to ask for permission. Understandably, we need an ok from our administration. But not so understandingly we frequently also need permission from our IT department. 

    I recognize that many libraries are beholden to the IT Departments of their parent institutions and I know first hand how this can limit one’s technology options. For example, at my own place of work, it’s necessary to engage in certain amount of subterfuge in order to get root access to a campus server.  That being said, I know it’s a privilege to even have such a complaint, as I know of  libraries whose IT departments lock-down work computers completely to prevent staff from downloading unsanctioned software. 

    I would like to talk more about running a server because running an application for use by people other than yourself frequently requires one.  If you have access to a server, you have access to the public. With a server, you can be on the web and you can be of the web.

    That’s how it used to be – when the web was young. If you worked at the university you could have access to your very own folder on the campus server. That the web we lost. Now, most of our online work is limited to form filling, or confined to Learning Management System or the underworld of an Intranet. Academia hid its work away. And then it had nothing to show for when the world suddenly became enamoured with MOOCS. 

    We knash our teeth when we receive another wave of LinkedIn requests and shake our heads when a young person we know posts something less than professional on Facebook. And yet we don’t provide our students with the tools or guidance to build a place of their own on the web. These are just some of the reasons I’m personally very interested in University of Mary Washington’s Domain of One’s Own project. All incoming students are given their own domain names and Web space and the freedom to create subdomains, install any LAMP-compatible software, setup databases and email addresses, and carve out their own space on the web that they own and control.  

    LAMP by the way, stands for  Linux, Apache, MySQL, PHP/Python/Perl.  I make mention of this because it’s not enough to have access to a server to run software.  You need to have a server with a particular combination of pre-installed programming languages and utility programs, as well as their dependencies.

    For example, let’s say that you are looking for an alternative to listservs and you would like to try out Discourse – the open source forum software that’s supposed to be a million times better than the bulletin board type systems that are still remarkably common on the web today. Discourse doesn’t run as a paid, hosted service yet but it is available if you know how to clone the publicly available code from GitHub. All you need is to have access to a server that has Postgres 9.1, Redis 2.6, Ruby 1.9.3 and 1 GB of RAM already installed. 

    That sounds complicated because it is complicated. And for most of us curious about trying this software, this point would probably be the end of the experiment.

    But that barrier has greatly come down, because someone else has already set up a script that will create the exact server I would need for Discourse and as well as Discourse already installed for use. It’s a one-click server install that runs on Amazon Web Services.

    And this is possible because of virtual machines.

    It’s not really the place of keynote to explain the mechanics of virtual servers. So let me say that a virtual machine is when a larger more powerful computer is able to imagine into being (that being, to simulate) one or more less powerful computers.

    You know why I think people use the term ‘Cloud’ as a jargon?  I think its because describing virtual machines or VMs are so damn Matrixy it’s almost hard to take seriously.

    But we should take this seriously.

    To be clear, I am not suggesting that the knowledge of how to install software on servers and interact with the underlying stack is obsolete. By no means! But I will suggest that this shift to virtual machines takes server software from being in the domain of an institution to something more readily available to the end user.  Indeed, families around the world are setting up servers just to get their kids out of their hair.

    What I think is particularly important about virtual machines is that they can reduce the barrier of learning use software on servers because a virtual server instance can be easily shut down and started up again if you really screw something up.

    Want to try to make something using the programming language Ruby? You can run a server with Ruby installed along with a whole set of other integrated server tools already installed for 2 cents an hour. When you’re done, you can close the server and only pay for the time you used.

    It’s too soon to see whether VMs will destable the centralizing force of IT in our institutions, or, in another cruel twist of fate, contribute to the to trend of increased centralized control through technology.

    But I do think that this present of virtual servers allow for a particular future of libraries that, if I could call on the power of magical thinking, I would try to bring about.

    If it’s too much to ask for the library to provide domain space for our students, I would like to see a future in which the library becomes the public cloud server for smaller cultural organizations in their community.  If the library already has to the expertise to maintain the servers for the work that it needs to do already, why not share this expertise with other organizations who don’t have as many professional and skilled staff as we do.

    I know that sounds crazy, but at least one library that is already doing this now.

    The Ann Arbor Public Library’s hosts the Ann Arbor’s ArborWiki Project. Created in 2005 and now running on open source LocalWiki software, this site has over 11,000 pages, 1,000 images and 300 maps all a result of  community driven efforts to share local knowledge.

    I love this project for many reasons. In many ways I see the LocalWiki project as an extension of the newspaper clipping service reference librarians used to maintain.  I see a need for the localwiki project, because I think it complements and does not compete with Wikipedia.

    Wikipedia is a great gift to us all but it does have “Notability guidelines.”  And as anyone who has ever tried to add an entry to Wikipedia knows that if your subject is not considered ‘noteable’ by an editor you will feel the wrath of the Deletionists.

    Now the Ann Arbor District Library has the technical know how to run servers because as an organization, they have decided to a support a local infrastructure. This allows them to pursue a variety of inspiring projects such as the streaming of local music to their community and the scanning and hosting of digitized historical newspapers for access to all.

    Again, I recognize that not all libraries have a commitment to such an infrastructure. But even if your library does not invest in local servers, there is still a chance that a cloud-served library platform is your future. Indeed, it may already be on it’s way. The Digital Library of America has applied to the FCC for e-rate funding to build a yet undetermined structure to host content from public libraries.

    But as promising as may sound to some to have another organization – whether that be DPLA or Amazon – manage the library’s technical infrastructure “in the cloud”- I don’t want to over-sell virtual servers. For one, while they make data processing cheaper, moving your terabytes of digitized newspapers over the wires to such a server can make costs add up quickly.  If the economics of data transfer doesn’t change, then it suggests that large data sets should be kept locally while processing and indexing should be done virtually.

    The library used to be the central place for information for our community and about our community. Now, we are just a node in a larger network. This shift has been very challenging to us.

    But if we – as a profession – can accept this change in the dynamic then we can take the next step.  We can try to connect our work directly with other organizations in our community and try to directly support them. Maybe hosting their website might not be the most appropriate way to help, but perhaps there are other services we can provide for them. Perhaps like the Chattanooga Public Library we can host their data, as they intend to in their new Open Data Portal. And maybe, just maybe, in the future we can serve up library-management software for them.

    If libraries are just another another node in the network, then the next best thing we can do is strive to become a central node and provide strength to our communities.

    You know the joke about the person who describes themselves as an expert at quitting smoking, because they’ve done a hundred times?  That’s how I feel about myself and computing.  I’m an expert at learning to code because it feels like I’ve tried to do it at least dozen times in at least a dozen different ways.

    One thing I’ve learned about learning to code is that you can do pretty amazing things even if you just learn to “read” code.  I’ve come to understand that it’s actually fairly rare for advanced computer users to write entire programs from scratch by themselves.  It’s more accurate to say that these users instead tend to have developed a favourite set of programming tools that they use or script together when they need to apply themselves to a project.

    Whereas consumer computer users tend use software applications like Excel to turn tables of numbers into graphs or charts, advanced computer users may be more inclined to use a library.

    Or a module. The words modules and libraries are usually used interchangeably when talking about computer languages.  A programming library can be described as is an add-on that you can run within a particular computing language that gives you new commands that are usually specific for a particular type of functions or a specific use in a discipline.  For example, there is a module called the NLTK or Natural Language Toolkit which provides specialized commands that perform tasks such as breaking down a piece of text into individual sentences.

    This difference between how consumer computer users and their more skilled computer colleagues admittedly isn’t so much new as “new to me”.  You see, for the last two years I’ve been working alongside software developers outside of academia as part of my involvement with a local hackerspace.  Sharing favourite Python libraries is favourite conversation topic at Hackforge.

    Why I believe this kind of computing practice should be on the radar of librarians, is because  a growing number of our faculty – or perhaps more accurately – our graduate students also do their computing this way.  You can see this kind of approach in the Digital Humanities, for example.

    You also see it such practice in scientific, engineering and mathematical computing.

    The evidence is only anecdotal at this point, but there is a feeling that programming modules are increasingly being adopted by statisticians, over more traditional software suites such as Excel, SPSS, SAS, and Matlab.   And as more non-data scientists get involved with data, it been suggested that they will opt for an add on of a programming language that they already know how to use rather pay for and then learn the peculiarities of specialized software.

    Many programs that offer graphical interfaces such as Excel are simply not strong enough to do the work on large data sets.  Or perhaps its more accurate to say that consumer computers aren’t powerful enough for bigger data.

    Remember I told you how virtual servers are changing things?  Here’s a data scientist sharing his recipe how to create a powerful but temporary virtual computer using Amazon Web Services that will install the statistical package called ‘R’, the computer language python and the science-related python libraries that he uses in his work.

    This Data Science Box also installs a particular python library that I’d like to showcase, because it suggests a whole new possible future for scientific computing and science education. It’s called iPython Notebooks.

    I need to warn you that we are getting to strange Matrix-y territory, again.

    To briefly explain, iPython Notebooks allow code and documentation to be shared online. When the pages are viewed online in your browser, they are static. But when you copy that same notebook onto your personal computer that has iPython Notebook already installed, you can run and edit the code in the page the itself – as it sits in your web browser.  

    Change the code here – hit run – and it will change the the graph here.

    What this means is that every single chart, graph, and data visualization in an iPython notebook  can become an opportunity for interaction.  This means you could download a chapter of a book and then adjust the variables in the graph of the page to see how they might fit in a different scenario. 

    It’s as if Bret Victor’s concept of Explorable Explanations is becoming a little closer to reality.  Bret Victor is an interface designer and no less than Edward Tufte said will be one of the most important in the future of graphic design.  Bret Victor uses the umbrella term Explorable Explanations to describe where text is used not as something to consume but as an environment to think in.

    When we make learning visible, we make learning possible. Many of know this this the same way that I know this : I learned how to make websites by ample use of Control-U, which reveals the HTML code behind the screen. iPython Notebooks does something similar.

    Such visibility is essential for communication and education in science and social science. Because it’s not enough just to let others know what methods and operations you use. If you want science that is replicable, you need to share the order of these operations too.

    Already journal articles have been supplemented with iPython Notebooks and there are already courses in computing and statistics that use such notebooks as class texts.

    Books such as this one on Bayesian Methods for Hackers, that are built on iPython Notebooks can allow themselves to have multiple remixed editions by multiple authors and as such it challenges our idea of the book itself, which we generally understand as a discrete object.

    iPython Notebooks blur the line between code and codex — just like apps. But unlike apps, which are designed so they do not allow themselves to shared or copied, notebooks are open and copyable and they are essentially made of text.  One of my greatest fears as a librarian, is that publishers will decide to put essential works such as the DSM for individual sale in app stores and cut libraries out completely. 

    I’m not suggesting that writing books in python and published on GitHub is going to that future of publishing but it shows us a form that it could be if we choose to move in this direction.  In fact, there was a startup called Editorially that launched last year that tried to bring similar functionality but with an interface that was friendly to  non-programmers, but sadly the venture failed to gain traction and it has already folded.

    And yet iPython Notebooks remain and show us how these sorts of systems could bring entirely new functionality to what we think of as pages.

    Ed Summers in his delightful talk The Web As Preservation Medium, tells a story that illustrates this nicely. He tells us what happened after two authors, Mark Pilgrim and Jonathan Gillette (otherwise known as _why), independent of each other, make the decision to delete all of their own online code and written work and to leave the web without explanation. In both cases, the works of these two men were reassembled by fans from copies on the Internet Archive and from github fragments that their readers had saved for themselves.  It was just as if an ancient work had been reassembled from pieces found from commonplace books.

    Not counting the books that have been written on a type-writer or handwritten and then typeset and published using a manual letterpress, every book published now either is an ebook or at one time was an ebook today.

    In the future we will still have books, its just that some of these books will bring us more uses than ever before.

    Even in the future, I think we can agree that a book is still for use. 

    And it goes without saying that libraries are for use.  But the question that is worth raising is, if so, then for what uses?

    If we look at our mission statements, we will that answer expressed in the most passive of verbs. What does a library do? We are provide access to knowledge with reference services.

    But all we know that there’s a lot more that goes on in a library than that. And I’d like to think that in the future of library, those activities are going to brought closer to mind and reflected in the space and the organization of the library itself.

    Because the library has to be much more than just access. The library has to be about use.

    I was at a THATCamp workshop led by Jon Voss when he casually mentioned that he had found a particular map from ‘crate-digging’ in a library.  ‘Crate-digging’ is a phrase that describes how DJs comb boxes of records in search of the perfect sample.

    I really love this phrase because it expresses the feeling of browsing in a library that captures both the work involved and the hope of treasure that will make it worthwhile.

    Jon Voss works for History Pin. The History Pin website allows people to upload their photos and videos relating to history and to pin those works on a map with a timeline.  But the goal of  this not-for-profit company is not just to fill their map with pins. Their mission is bring people together by sharing small pieces of personal history and to connect them into a larger shared history. Jon Voss is wonderful ambassador for Open Linked Data and as such champions the ways that others can like be HistoryPin build on collections made open and available by libraries, archives, museums and other cultural organizations.

    Now unfortunately, by and large, libraries don’t go out of their way to tell our their users what they have that is in the public domain or placed in the creative commons and available to artists and entrepreneurs looking for inspiration or plunder.   The good news that many of our more recent digital collections make this license information readily available, But our library catalogues and discovery layers decidedly do not.

    When I think about how libraries could re-organize themselves to better support the re-use of their materials, a number of artist libraries come to mind. as well as one particular library blog.

    One example of an artist’s library that I’m particularly fond of is the Reanimation Library in Brooklyn that is the work of librarian Andrew Beconne. It’s a small, independent “Presence Library”that is open to public . It holds a collection of books that been previously discarded and culled and have been acquired for their visual content by Andrew.

    It’s called the Reanimation Library because the goal of the collection is not to be comprehensive (which is the ideal that so many of our own collection development policies still strive for). 

    Instead, the hope is the public visits of the library will Reanimate the works within. The library is designed to inspire art. 

    You can read more about the Reanimation Library at the Library as Incubator Project

    Library as Incubator Project is a blog, and soon to be a book, and is an invigorating way to re-look at the library and to re-imagine it’s advocacy and outreach work.

    The Incubator regularly publish stories about the works made by artists and makers of all levels made within libraries and they pay special attention to those who work from material drawn from   library collections.  They also share activities that allow other libraries to start similar art projects.

    With the Makerspace movement that’s currently pushing through libraries at the moment, many libraries are considering what tools they can make available to their communities.  That’s wonderful but let’s not forget that we also hold the raw materials for inspiration and appropriation that artists and inventors can work with.

    We can organize our space and design activities that highlight this connection between insight and creation, between hand and heart, and we are lucky to have the Library as Incubator Project as an inspiration to us.

    Speaking of makerspaces, what is the Information Literacy of the Library Makerspace?

    Or if the concept of information literacy is too contentious and thorny, let me ask some simpler questions instead.

    What do we hope our community will make in our makespaces?  What do we hope our community will learn? 

    While there are exceptional examples of maker spaces being brought into the library, I’m afraid that many libraries are treating 3D printers the same way as we treat 2D printers. We see them as expensive institutional equipment that we provide to the public and the expectation is that as long as our community covers the cost of the raw materials, we’ll deal with any of the jams, paper or plastic.

    And as such we are missing a huge opportunity to make something really big.

    Two years ago, R. David Lankes wrote about a visit to his local public library’s Fablab and how, during the course of that visit, his then 11 year old son was recruited to teach a class on how to make things with duct tape.

    Lankes noticed that what really hooked his son to the space was not the 3D printer, but the moment when his son came back two weeks later and saw that the librarians had hung his duct tape Fab Lab sign on the Lab door.

    David Lankes wrote the Atlas of New Librarianship and has coined this mission of librarians, which I have taken to heart.


    How can we facilitate knowledge creation in our makerspaces?  I think its it’s actually easier than we may first think.

    We can do it the same way we facilitate knowledge creation in our communities in our libraries.

    We can do it by saving the stuff that gets written down!

    Documentation. It separates screwing around from science.

    The practice of writing down what you’ve learned and putting it in place so that you and others can find it again when you or someone else needs it, is as important than ever. The internet has not made this less important. If anything, it has made documentation more important as every act of shared learning now can become a gift to person who might need it halfway around the world over ten years later.

    Having maker spaces in the library can be a wonderful thing. We just need “more library” in makers spaces.  In fact, such work has already been recognized as needed for Maker culture.

    In 2006, Make Magazine published a 16 point Bill of Rights which includes this proclamation

    Docs and drivers shall have permalinks and shall reside for all perpetuity at

    This sounds like library work to me.

    If every library a maker space, then every maker space, a library.

    And I’m sure we will get there as we tinker with these spaces, as we drop what’s not working and expand and iterate and grow towards what our communities respond to.

    As David Lankes reminds us : “The Maker Space concept does not work unless all are involved – librarians, members, experts, children, parents – understand that they are all learning at the same time.”

    Lankes also suggests that libraries should move From a culture of lending to a culture of sharing and I couldn’t agree more.   All five stories that I’ve told you this morning are essentially just iterations of this theme.

    Sharing is an act of generosity and the library is a place of generosity. Our future is will continue as long as we can continue to inspire new origin stories.

    I like to think that the path of how to achieve this is already on the sitting on shelves of our libraries at this very moment.  In fact, I believe that the answer to the question of how we should go forward can already be found within ourselves.

    Every one of us in this room has figured a part of our shared future already. All of us have found a little a way forward that works.  All we need to do is to write these ideas down and share these stories and experiences of what we have learned and to listen and to learn from others who do the same.

    That’s why we are here at the 2014 Library Technology Conference. I can’t wait to hear your experiences and your stories. 

    Thank you very much to the organizers who have done so much good work to allow for so much learning to happen in these next two days. And thank you all kindly for listening.

    Why librarianship is difficult and contentious

    It is the month of Janus when we take one last long look behind at the year that was and then after this reflection, we turn away from the past, look straight ahead and step forward into the unknown next.

    And that is why I started my 2014 by doing some reading from Bret Victor’s annotated bibliography of favourite puzzle pieces of 2013.

    I didn’t tackle these pieces in order because that would mean I would have to have read the Latour article first, and I’m just not up to it. Well, not yet. I suspect I will tackle the daunting French sociologist’s work with my investigations into cartography this year. The Map Reader, which I have also started tackling recently, just happens to cite Latour on the first page of the first chapter. In fact, both Victor and my Map Reader cite the same work:

    So rather than read the items in order, I started on Bret Victor’s reading list with what I thought I would be most familiar with, which was this: “Why education is so difficult and contentious (2001)

    I enjoyed this essay very much. I knew that education feels to me like its made out of a multitude of conflicting missions but Egan’s piece help clarify to me how they can be reduced to three elemental ones and, more importantly, that each one of these inherently conflicts with the others.
    And this reading is timely because (as of today) there are a couple of conversations unfolding online that are similarly trying to tease apart the original mission of the library to find when and how the spectre of neoliberalism began to seep in.
    On that note, I would like to suggest that the mission of the library is similarly bound to three ideas and just like Egan’s three missions of of education, the triad of missions within libraries both support and undermine each of the other.  
    [To explain, I'm just going to use the context of *Canadian Academic Librarianship* and I apologize in advance for viewing the profession through such a narrow lens.  There are several examples that I thought of that would illustrate similar points in public librarianship or in a larger global context but I found switching contexts was difficult for me to without confusing things.]
    • The first mission of the library is to support a Plato’s ideal of education through literacy
    • The second mission of the library is to support the Institution that funds it
    • The third mission of the library is service to the community’s needs

    I think that this perspective of this trellus of mission statements is useful because it can explain why some of us in our profession see a future that may end in five years while the rest of us can’t see any end of a need for a deeper and more critical understanding of knowledge creation within the scholarly sphere and the outside world for our students and the community at large.

    The institutional need for having a library to provide the *supplemental* texts (mandatory texts being textbooks and on reading lists) that support student and faculty teaching and research seems less urgent *institutionally* with with every year that passes due to the growing ubiquity of internet access and the apparent ease of finding and acquiring material through Google (or through email or by other means if necessary) that satifices.

    And with every year vendor-publishers continue to develop and grow their aggregations of turnkey collections of ebook, video, and digitized primary research materials and slice those collections into a variety of models to meet the ROI needs of each of segmented markets within the academic sector. Why spend millions of dollars on owning when you can rent?

    (Amusingly, the triple mission statement can also be read to explain why in Canadian Academic Librarianship there are three national organizations to serve the profession. There’s the Canadian Library Association (the supports and promotes within the institutional), CAUT (which supports and promotes the individual within the wider societal aspects of the profession), and the fledgling organization of CAPAL – the Canadian Association of Professional Academic Librarians – which is focused on the research needs of those who are employed in post-secondary institutions.)

    I remember of one of my first job interviews for a librarian position in a chemistry library for a large multi-campus university.  When it became my turn to ask a question to my interview committee, I naively asked if I was to support to the work of the faculty of the researchers and students of the Chemistry department, or was I supposed to support the chemistry needs of the university as a whole.  Even though this was over a decade now, I remember quite clearly the Chemistry faculty member on the committee lean back, put his hands behind this head, smile and say ‘That’s a very good question’ and then not answer the question.

    Now, over a decade later, all I have are more questions with no definitive answers. Now I wonder, if the institution’s overwhelming and immediate concern is to cut costs and if you work in a library (which is what is charmingly referred to as a cost center in the business literature) well, then what is that library supposed to do?

    The common response has been to spend more energy aligning the library’s goals with the larger institution and to provide the larger institution with evidence and anecdote that describes how and how much the activities of the library actively contribute to the metrics that define success within the institution.

    Perhaps this has always been the case but I think what has changed is that until recently, the concerns of balancing the library’s requirements within the institution has been primarily the responsibility of library administrators.  What seems to have changed is that there is an expectation that the profession as a whole should start to adopt institutional metrics. To these ends, Information Literacy standards were formed. Lists of official competencies were drafted.  But to what end? (Measuring an elephant is not the same as feeding an elephant).

    There’s a danger with using metrics, as well.  If you use reference desk statistics or item circulation numbers to demonstrate use and then those numbers start to plummet, you need to find new, more sophisticated metrics to demonstrate your value. And now, coincidently, there are new conferences created dedicated to the matter of ‘Assessment’ and there have been new positions created within academic libraries for ‘Assessment Librarians.’

    I like to think there’s another way forward.

    If librarians are taking on more of the administrative work of justifying their labour in an institutional context, I think we should expect more library administrators to increase their efforts in championing our work towards the other wider missions that librarianship contains.

    In the end, it is what will save us five years from now.

    Words of wisdom, & entrapment, from @adr. #libraries
    — Jacob Berg (@jacobsberg) January 6, 2014

    A Place for Place

    There has only been one department in the 375+ year history of Harvard that has ever been dismantled and that was the Geography Department.  Since then many other Geography Departments have been dealt a similar fate including the one at my My Own Place of Work which disappeared some years before I started my employment there. Some of its faculty remain at the university, either exiled to Sociology or Political Science or regrouped as Earth Sciences, depending on which of The Two Cultures they pledged allegiance to.

    I have an undergraduate degree in Geography and Environmental Science and as such I sometimes feel that I’m part of an academic diaspora.

    So after almost 20 years of librarianship I’ve made one of my sabbatical goals to ‘re-find my inner geographer.’ My hope is that through my readings I will be able to find and apply some of the theories and tools that geographers use in my own practice.

    I think I have already found a good example to use a starting point as I try to explain in this post what sort of ground I’m hoping to explore and how it may apply to librarianship.

    It came to me as I was browsing through the most recent issue of Antipode: The Radical Journal of Geography when my eyes immediately fell on an article whose topic was literally close to home. It was an article about migrant worker experiences in “South-Western Ontario”.

    I had to download and scan most of the article before I could learn that what was being referred to as ‘South-Western Ontario’ was actually East of where I live. And that’s when I noticed that the official keywords associated with the article (migrant workers; agriculture; labour control; Seasonal Agricultural Workers Program) made no mention of place. And this struck me as a curious practice for a journal dedicated to *geography*.

    But I know better to blame the editors of Antipode for this oversight. The journal is on the Wiley publishing platform (which they call the “Wiley Online Library”, huh) which provides a largely standardized reading experience across the disciplines. On one hand, it’s understandable that location isn’t a standardized metadata field for academic articles as many papers in many disciplines aren’t concerned with a particular place. On the hand, I do think that is telling that the within academia there is  much more care and effort dedicated to clarifying the location of the author rather than that of that of the subject at hand.

    (I will, however, blame the editors for using the phrase ‘South-Western Ontario’ when the entire world uses ‘Southwestern Ontario” in reference to these parts. Their choice of spelling means if you search the “Wiley Online Library” for Southwestern Ontario, the article in question does not even show up.)

    There is another reason why I’m concerned that the article at hand doesn’t have a metadata field to express location and that is this: without a given location, the work cannot be found on a map. And that’s going to increasingly be a problem because the map is increasingly where we will live.

    Let me explain what I mean by that.

    You may know that Google became the pre-eminent search engine based on the strength of its PageRank algorithm which, unlike its peers at the time, created relevance rankings that takes into account the number of incoming links to that page as a means to establish authority and popularity and make it less immune to spam.

    In those heady, early days of the Internet finding news and more from around the world was deliriously easy. Oddly enough one of the challenges of using the Internet back then was that it was hard to find info about the features of your small town. The Internet was wonderfully global but not very good at the local.

    But now, in 2014, when I search for the word ‘library’ using Google and I receive my local library system as the first result.

    This is because Google is now thought to incorporate 200 some factors in its page ranking.

    And one of the most important factors is location.

    In fact, I would go so far to say that, just like real estate, the three of the most important factors for search is location, location, location.

    It’s location because if you search for political information while in Beiing your experience using the Internet is going to be significantly different from that of Berlin because of government enforced filtering and geofencing.

    It’s location because if you search for Notre Dame in the United States you are probably going to get something related to football rather than a cathedral in Paris.

    And it’s location because so much of our of information seeking is contextual based. If I’m searching for information about a particular chemical additives while at a drug store, it’s probably because I’m about to make a consumer choice about a particular shampoo and not because I need to know that chemical’s melting point.

    (An aside: imagine if by the very act of entering a library space, the context of your searches were automatically returned as more scholarly. Imagine if you travelled to different spaces on a campus, your searches results would be factored automatically by the context of a particular scholarly discipline?)

    While it’s difficult to imagine navigating a map of research papers, it is much easier to understand and appreciate how a geographical facet could prove useful in other interfaces. For example, if I’m looking for articles about about a whether particular social work practice conforms to a particular provincial law in Canada, then the ability to either pre-select articles from that province or filter articles to a list of results pertaining to that province could prove quite useful.

    It’s surprising how few of our library interfaces have this ability to limit by region. Summon doesn’t. Neither does Primo. But Evergreen does and so does Blacklight.

    There are other examples of using maps to discover texts. OCLC has been experimenting with placing books on a map. They were able to do so by geocoding Library of Congress Subject Heading Geographical Subdivisions that they parsed so that they can be found on a map on a desktop or nearby where you are while holding a mobile phone.

    And there are many, many projects that seek to place digitized objects on a map, such as the delightful HistoryPin which allows you to find old photos of a particular place but of a different time visible only when when you look through the world through the magical lens of your computer or your mobile phone.

    Less common are those projects which seek to make available actual texts (or as we say in the profession the full-text) accessible in particular places outside of the library. One of my favourite of such projects is the work of Peter Rukavina who has placed a Piratebox near a park bench in Charlottetown PEI that makes available a wide variety of texts: works of fiction (yes, about that red-headed girl), a set of city bylaws, and a complete set of community histories from the IslandLives repository.

    When you think about embedding the world with a hidden layers of images and text that can only be unlocked if know its secrets, well that sounds to me like a gateway to a whole other world of experience, namely, games, and ARGs or alternative reality games in particular. Artists, museums, and historians have created alternative reality games that merged the physical exploration of place with narratives and as such have created new forms of story writing and storytelling.

    Personally, I think its very important that libraries become more aware of the possibilities of in situ searching and discovery in the field and there are many fields worth considering.  Over the holiday break, I bought the Audubon Birding App which acts as field guide, reference work, includes a set of vocal tracks for each bird to help with identification, allows the creation of to store my personal birding life list, and a provides means to report geocoded bird sightings to eBird – while being half the price of a comparable print work.  We, the people of print have a tendency to dismiss and scoff at talk of the end of the print book, but I don’t see any of our reference works on our shelves providing this degree of value to our readers like this app does.

    In my opinion, there’s not enough understanding of this potential future of works that take into account the context of place. Otherwise, why would our institutions force our users to visit the a physical library in order to access a digitalize copy of historical material that we might have already had in our collection but in microfilm?

    So, as you can see, there’s a lot of territory for myself to explore during the next 12 months and I think I’m going to start by going madly off in all directions.

    I do hope that by the end of this time I will have made a convincing argument to my peers that we have an opportunity here to do better.  I hope that one day the article in question that I started this train of thought – the one about migrant agricultural workers in South-Western Ontario –  should, when and if its included in an in a library maintained institutional repositories, have a filled out location field.

    And then perhaps one day, those in the future who will work those fields in South-Western Ontario can discover it where they work.

    Home and School and Library and City

    You probably don’t know that I hold the illustrious position of President of the King Edward Home and School Association. Since September I’ve been chairing our monthly meetings as well as the occasional special meeting like the one when we as a group all sat around my dining room table and discussed what we wanted to fund raise for this year.

    The best way to understand our budget prioritizations is to think of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. If we end up reaching our ambitious fundraising goal we are going to purchase 10 iPads for the school (yes, yes, I know that iPads are problematic as educational technology but when the Principal, the teacher’s rep and the majority of your volunteers all want to work towards buying iPads, you commit to iPads). But before we spend any money on tablets, we’re going to make sure that we make good on our commitment to support field trips, school clubs, referees, replace broken music and sports equipment, and help pay for the festivities to send off the graduating class of grade eights.

    But our primary budgetary goal that comes first is to continue to support the our snack and breakfast programs that we run in the school. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday a small group of committed Home and School volunteers meet in the school’s staff room and clean, cut and distribute fruits and vegetables into baskets for each class so that come first ‘nutrition break’ everyone who is hungry can have something to eat. Our school also holds a ‘Breakfast Club’ so that kids can start the day with food in their stomachs as long as they arrive at school earlier enough to take advantage of the program.  And that’s a key point – it’s not so much that there are many families in this neighbourhood who can’t afford breakfast (although they most certainly exist) but it’s more that there are many families who are supported by adults who have so many demands on their time such as part-time or shift work that on some days it takes all their available time and energy just to get their kids out of the house and to school on time.

    The economic conditions of the neighbourhood where I live is changing and the make-up of our volunteers at Home and School reflects that change. Not long ago King Edward Home and School had many more active volunteers who were ‘stay at home’ parents and so the scale of the fundraising and social events were a degree larger than what they are now.  I don’t think it’s coincidence that our core volunteers are retirees (grandparents who are primary caregivers), work part-time or on contract, or are stay-at-home. When we lose an active volunteer it’s usually because of the good fortune that they’ve found full-time work.

    This means that the nature of our activities as an organization has changed. We find that many parents are very happy to support our activities that support the school but they are likely to participate in our events only if they don’t have to commit to giving time. For example, many parents are happy to donate baked goods to a particular event, but can’t or won’t commit to helping out planning or putting on that event.

    My experiences with Home and School has quietly shifted some of my thinking about the services that we provide as a librarian at a university. I know this because when I took the bus to work this week and watched all the students come on board, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were starting the day with a good breakfast in them. And as I tried to see the library from their perspective, I realized that it probably means little to them that the library is the heart of campus learning (in so that we pump out text for reading that turns into writing that turns into publishing that returns to the library, the heart of the campus, and our arteries that pump out the text again and this allows the body of knowledge to move and grow and I probably should have stopped this metaphor before it even started) .  The most important service we might be providing is to simply being a warm, dry place to sit down before and between classes.

    I’m comfortable going a good deal further than merely arguing that the presence of well-loved and well-used public spaces in a city is a collective good. I conflate that presence more or less directly with civilization itself. My reasons for thinking so are all pretty basic, even obvious, but I find that it sometimes helps to spell these things out explicitly. Consider:

    Civilization means providing for everyone’s basic biological needs, among which are shade and some degree of shelter from the elements; clean potable water; and a safe place to use the toilet, and otherwise conduct the rudiments of bodily hygiene. These provisions need to be widely distributed and available throughout the community, situated in a way that allows them to be utilized without undue surveillance (and certainly without shame), and this can only happen under the conditions of relatively uncontrolled access that public space affords. 

    The most vulnerable among us have the greatest need for such facilities, of course. They ought to be able to avail themselves of same for pragmatic reasons of public health, but also because being able to clean oneself up helps immeasurably with “presentability” when applying for assistance, or a job, or otherwise moving uncomplicatedly through the bourgeois world. (Speaking from personal experience, it’s hard to gather up the courage to walk into a clinic, a classroom or an office when you know perfectly well that you smell, and that the smell is offensive to the people around you.)

    The above is an except from Adam Greenfield’s Public space, civilization and the self (long)

    The reason why I brought the larger context of public space and ultimately why I’ve been reflecting on the matters of time constraints and civic participation is that I’m less than 40 days away from a year long sabbatical.  Unstructured time to pursue one’s own interests is perhaps one of the finest luxuries in the world and I am well aware of what a privilege it is.  I titled my sabbatical application as ‘Library as city, city as library’ and here is an excerpt of what I proposed to work on way back in September 2012:

    In November of 2011, MIT Press published a set of twenty-four essays in a work entitled from “From Social Butterfly to Engaged Citizen: Urban Informatics, Social Media, Ubiquitous Computing, and Mobile Technology to Support Citizen Engagement.” The work explores the possibilities that mobile devices, mapping, gaming, augmented reality and other technologies may have on citizen engagement. Notably, there is no mention of libraries working within this context. Mobile devices allow for information to be geographically situated in a specific locations. How can the library distribute its collections on a map or in a space outside of itself in the places where they are immediately needed or brought to mind? This question has not been fully explored within the profession.

    I briefly toyed with the idea of setting up a new, separate blog just to reflect this new focus of placing library work in a larger context that explores the notion of the smart city, spatial thinking, local knowledge among other important ideas related to geography…

    (recently over lunch I inadvertently made my friends laugh with my proclamation that I needed to re-find my inner geographer “So you’re a lost geographer?”  Ha. Ha.)

    … but I am a seasoned enough blogger to know that the title of a blog really doesn’t matter much to the reader. And I know enough of my own site analytics that most of my traffic comes from real-time referrals from Twitter and Facebook. If a piece of writing resonates enough for someone who wants to share it, then it doesn’t really matter where it comes from.

    This particular insight probably requires a whole article to unpack and I’m looking forward for having the time and space to do so in 2014.

    Library as Copy Machine: Part Two: Libraries Are for Use

    I was at a THATCamp workshop led by Jon Voss when he casually mentioned that he had found a particular map from ‘crate-digging’ in a library. 

    Crate-digging is a term that DJs use to describe looking through old records for samples that they can mix and remix into new work.

    But it’s not just music where everything is a remix. Literature has been in a plundered, fragmentary state for a long time.

    And the state of copying and its influence in the arts is only going to increase. I agree with Cory Doctorow when he says that “contemporary art that’s not designed to be copied is not contemporary.”

    As such, libraries, by and large, are no longer contemporary institutions.

    First Law: Books are for Use. And Use Costs The Reader 

    Libraries provide access to words, sounds, maps, software, data, film, videos, etc. But, due to copyright and other instruments of intellectual property protection, only a relatively small percentage of what we offer can actually be used in a commercial work like an app or be re-mixed or re-interpreted for an artistic piece – at least not without getting permission from a publisher or paying a fee first. 

    By and large, libraries don’t go out of their way to tell our their users what they have that  in the public domain or creative commons and available to artists and entrepreneurs looking for inspiration or plunder. 

    If the reader is lucky, each item from the library will be described with clear rights information. And ideally – a digital collection would have such rights information available as a facet so one would have the ability to only see what works can be re-used without having to ask permission first.  Bearing that, it would be wonderful if our library catalogues and digital repositories had this metadata machine-readable for tools such as Open Attribute.

    But more often than not, the right to use is traded away by libraries for a discount in access from entities that are not forthcoming about when and how much they will charge for use of the materials they make available.

    And this is problematic for so many reasons. Restictions on data and software prevent our scientists from replicating experiements which is, you know, doing science. And it prevents our (digital) humanists from being able to making things with the very materials that we license for them on their behalf. 

    Fourth Law: Save the time of the reader.  Unless it makes the publisher uncomfortable.

    Here’s another example. Supposed you are a professor of a course with 80 students in You decided that will have two assigned readings for each of the 12 weeks in the course, with some being journal articles and some being book chapters. You already have all the works as PDFs and because you want to make sure your students do the readings, you plan to upload them into the course management system to give them no excuse for coming unprepared to class. And then you are told that you can’t because the library had signed a license agreement that gave that right away and thus, they require you to add “durable link with a proxy prefix” (whatever that means – you’re a pretty savvy Internet user and you’ve never heard of that before) for some of the articles (and how were we supposed to know that?) and you have to now trust that each of your 80 students will find, use, and download or print those articles from these links.

    After how many minutes do you expect our hypothetical professor to struggle with finding out how to make a durable link to the chapter she wants her class to read (see above) before that professor decides to toss it and to discretely give the 80 students a link to her Dropbox account?

    Here’s another question. Will budget-starved libraries continue to sell away every type of use of a document just as long as they can have access?

    Just came across my 1st EBSCO warning that I pretty much can’t do anything w/ the HBR case study I just found. I’m scared to send the link.
    — janeschmidt (@janeschmidt) July 30, 2013

    Second Law: Every person his or her book.  Even if they want to make money off of that book

    I’m on the board of directors of one of the more recently created hackerspaces in Canada. and I’m proud of the group for many reasons – but one reaon is the group’s interest and work in Open Data. Hackforge volunteers have already contributed to an Open Data CodeJam and just a couple weeks ago, we had our first meeting of an Open Data Special Interest Group. After the formal meeting, we had our-post meeting meetup, during which a local software developer complained that he wanted to make an app using some government produced geographic data that was tantalizingly readily available but was stricted to non-commerical purposes by its license.

    Even thought I agreed with him, I took the role of the apologist. I tried to explain that many people who come from the non-profit sectors of government, social services, and academia (wait, we’re still non-profit, right?) have an bias against commericalization and  think they are working through their good intentions when they make their works available but for non-commerical use (unfortunately without realizing that this will turn their contributions into orphan works).

    I got an eye-roll in response, and I unfortunately can’t remember the exact wording of the scathing retort but it was along the lines of ‘oh so they want people to use their works unless it actually becomes valuable.’

    I’ve found that software developers are more aware than librarians what the ramifications of licensing can bring about and pretty much all of them have a strong opinion on what’s better, GPL or BSD.  Furthermore, there’s a growing understanding that the success of apps that require local information may only be sustainable if they can replicated across communities, which means that having common licenses are increasingly important. Luckily, there is movement to adopt such licences among the governments in Canada.

    But what about libraries?  Well, I’m not the only one who wonders if libraries can really be effective advocates of Open Data. 

    This is one of those questions that I ponder ever now and again, because I wonder how effective libraries really can be as open data advocates when our current practice demonstrates that we don’t fully believe in the concept.  Well, I should qualify that – we have no problem believing that other people have a moral obligation to make their research and data open to the world using the most permissive (CC0) licenses available, but we have an extremely difficult time doing the same.

    Fifth Law: The library is a growing organism. But the Internet is much much bigger and grows much much faster

    There’s is much derision around the phrase of Web 2.0 but I don’t think we should be completely dismissive of it’s promises. Personally, the Web 2.0 We Lost bit that I miss the most was this :

    BitTorrent thus demonstrates a key Web 2.0 principle: the service automatically gets better the more people use it

    In Publishing 2.0, Tim O’Reilly provides other examples that can fit in a Library 2.0 context. Here’s a brief summary of that talk from 2008:

    • Google. With Google, every time a user makes a link to another site, Google uses that hyperlink to better inform its search algorithm.
    • Amazon. Borders and Barnes & Noble have the same stock of books, but Amazon integrates user reviews and commentary to add more value to their literary collection. With each review, the site gets more valuable.

    It’s almost been 10 years since the first Web 2.0 conference. And at this point I was going to write again about the current state of library software but I can’t even.  Not anymore.

    Instead, I recommend you read this intriguing post on Headless libraries (h/t Lisa Hinchliffe).

    Third Law: ????

    When I think of the future of education, I don’t think of MOOCs.

    Instead, I think of the person who decides to learn something and works at it by doing it for the better part of a year, documents the process for themselves and others, and at the end of the self-imposed challenge, that person is able to show off a remarkable transformation:

    Libraries aren’t always part of a formal educational system but there it is generally understood that learning is part of our collective mission.  There’s a growing understanding that making and learning are deeply-intertwined.

    Libraries need to become places where people learn by doing and we need to start sharing our ideas and our spaces in order to support this mission. This doesn’t mean we have to give up work providing literature; I’m suggesting we supplement this work with author readings, book clubs, NaNoWriMo support groups, and help with self-publishing. Likewise with film, audio and video.

    Our public needs need work that they can use in their learning.

    Profit!!! or

    What do libraries that are built for re-use look like?

    There are exceptional libraries that have been established and maintained specially for the re-use of work by artists including  Prelinger Library and Reanimation Library.

    I also highly recommend following the work of The Library As Incubator Project that highlights specific projects and exhibits that libraries big and small have developed in collaboration with artists:

    On our website, we:
    • Feature artists, writers, performers and libraries who exemplify the “library as incubator” idea.
    • Highlight physical and digital collections and resources that may be of particular use to artists and writers.
    • Provide ideas for art education opportunities in libraries with our program kit collection and practical how-to’s for artists and librarians.

    Richard Veevers in a comment to the first part of this post, kindly recommended watching a particular talk by Eli Neiburger’s 2012 talk and after watching it, I whole-heartedly second that recommendation.

    It’s called Access, schmaccess.

    The Library as Copy Machine: Part I : Pirates of the Alexandrian

    Librarians, publishers, and authors are all struggling with the burden of copyright, that being the exclusive right to copy in a digital world. Copyright has become a burden because copying is an inherent property of digital transmission:

    As computers retrieve images from the web or displays from a server, they make temporary, internal copies of those works. Every action you invoke on your computer requires a copy of something to be made. Many methods have been employed to try to stop the indiscriminate spread of copies, including copy-protection schemes, hardware-crippling devices, education programs, and statutes, but all have proved ineffectual. The remedies are rejected by consumers and ignored by pirates.

    The evidence is in. Copyright hurts readers as well.

    So let’s the change the context. Let’s stop thinking of copying in terms of the exclusive domain of publishers. Let us remember that the history of the library pre-dates the history of the publisher.

    Let us remember how the greatest library in the world was built from copies. And piracy. Literally piracy.

    During the reign of Ptolemy Eurgertes, the Library borrowed Athens’ official versions of the plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, giving Athens an enormous amount of money; the modern equivalent of millions of dollars, as surety for their return. The scribes of the Library made fine copies of these books on the highest quality of parchment. The originals were kept for the Great Library and the copies were returned to Athens, causing the Alexandrians to forfeit their bond. Other ethically dubious means for procuring materials were also employed. It is said that during a famine in Athens, ambassadors from the Great Library forced the sale of valuable original manuscripts owned by that city in exchange for food. A more conventional technique employed by the Ptolemies was to send people out to buy books, looking especially for rare texts and libraries which might be bought en masse. In addition to buying books, the Ptolemies acquired books through plunder. It is widely reported that upon entering the Alexandrian harbor, ships were inspected, and any books they were carrying were seized. A copy was made and given to the original owner, but the original was kept for the Great Library. It was through such means that the Great Library amassed its large collection.

    Let us remember that Google’s search engine is not built from the Internet. It is continually built from a copy of the indexable Internet. One library was built from scribes. Another one built was by spiders.

    And when the printing press replaced the use of scribes, the act of creating copies occurred outside of the library and the collecting continued. Many of the world’s national libraries have been built through the establishment of a legal deposit program that requires publishers to give their national library a copy (or several) of each work they publish.

    By law, a copy of every UK print publication must be given to the British Library by its publishers, and to five other major libraries that request it. This system is called legal deposit and has been a part of English law since 1662.

    From 6 April 2013, legal deposit also covers material published digitally and online, so that the Legal Deposit Libraries can provide a national archive of the UK’s non-print published material, such as websites, blogs, e-journals and CD-ROMs.

    And while academic libraries have not framed their work this way, the mandates passed by University Senates which requires authors and creators to deposit copies of their works into the local institutional repository sounds a lot like legal deposit to me. Except it’s not so much as “legal deposit” than ‘deposit when legal’ because a mandate from a university is not a nation and cannot trump the contract agreements between publishers and authors. If they could, can you just imagine what a powerful force it could be? Well, Elsevier did and those crafty publishing devils specifically state that in their Article Posting Policy that it’s okay if authors deposit a copy of their paper in an institutional repository – as long as is it is voluntary. 

    I’m going to suggest that all libraries – public, special, and academic – should think of local copying as a means of collection development. While, as I have shown, that it is not a new way of developing library collections, it will be new to most non-national libraries who have enjoyed a long, comfortable existence as a middleman between commercial publishers and a local reading public.

    I think this project – Winnipeg Public Library’s Local Music History Digitization Days – is a wonderful example that highlights what such a re-imagining of libraries and archives can achieve. The project itself was billed as a two day event and it was held this past April:

    Past Forward ( ) is WPL’s ongoing Public History project, where people can discuss, share, research and contribute to our past. Since one of the fantastic things about Winnipeg is our local music scenes, we thought preserving this part of our city’s past would be a great contribution to the project.

    So, if you were involved with music in Winnipeg, this is your chance to get all that stuff out from under your bed and online! Get your show posters, venue photographs, & handbills digitized, and contribute to our public history collection.

    Register for a space to get high quality digital scans of your memorabilia…

    I love that everyone benefits from this project. Those from the public who participate get digital copies of their memorabilia perhaps with equipment they don’t have access to and with the guidance of an expert that they might have needed. And not only does the library gets a copy for their public history collection, they have a showcase of work that they can add to, in similar event the following year, if they choose to do so. Furthermore, they could also use this model repeatedly and applied to completely different interest group each time as a form of community outreach. Collecting from one community at a time.

    It should be noted that even here the burden of copyright has not been departed or gone:

    Also, out of respect to bands and artists, we are asking people to only bring materials that they helped produce, so that there are no copyright issues!

    Right. Like we could get our rock and roll stars to make their promotional work freely available to their fans. Like… The Clash!

    Mick Jones of The Clash: transformed his own archive of nearly 10,000 artefacts into one unique 5-week “guerrilla-library.” Users were able to scan (courtesy of the U.K distributor of the Book2net Kiosk) certain objects and via memory stick carry them away.

    And now, I’d like to depart on a tangent that the quote above affords me. I want to focus on the technologies – like the Book2net Kiosk – that not make our scanning possible but they make entirely new libraries possible.

    (Indeed, it only takes a photocopier to build a library.)

    Both the Windsor Public Library and the University of Windsor have an Espresso Book Machine, a print-on-demand contraption that both prints and binds a softcover book within minutes. I’ve printed my own book with the machine and I can say from experience that it is a delight to make beautiful papery things to share. But what intrigued me about the machines is the how self-published and public domain titles produced by an Espresso can be added to EspressNet – “a network of content, enabling EBMs to order and print books by retrieving, encrypting, and transmitting files from a multitude of content sources.” Every year, the collection of EspressNet grows along with the use of their printers.

    Other self-publishing and print-on-demand services such as and have created similar collections of works for sale. The distribution system of the a written work is baked right into the publishing process, although sometimes it requires an additional cost. Publish with Lulu and you can distribute your print books with Amazon and Ingram (myilibrary) and your ebooks with Apple iBooks and Barnes and Noble nook store. Of note, Ingram has its own business unit that does combined on-demand book printing and distribution at the publisher level through Lightning Source.

    Libraries should also consider how we too can bind publishing and distribution together and so that both services similar re-enforce each other.

    Two of my favourite examples of such consideration are PUMA and BibApp.  PUMA is a system “where the upload of a publication results automatically in an update of both the personal and institutional homepage, the creation of an entry in BibSonomy, an entry in the academic reporting system of the university, and its publication in the institutional repository.”  BibApp is similar. It “matches researchers on your campus with their publication data and mines that data to see collaborations and to find experts in research areas. With BibApp, it’s easy to see what publications can be placed on the Web for greater access and impact. BibApp can push those publications directly into an institutional or other repository.” 

    And it’s not too late for us to get into self-publishing end of ebook publishing.You can’t tell me it isn’t possible because it’s already being done:

    “I realized we needed to do something,” LaRue says. “The vendors were screwing us.” In December 2010, with all of these ingredients mixing in his mind, he had a moment of clarity. As with the music industry before it, a common analogy in these conversations, he decided that the publishing industry’s future didn’t rest with the legacy conglomerates that had dominated it in the past. Its strength resided in the independent presses and self-publishing writers who had seized the opportunity that e-books offered: the democratization of publishing. Libraries, he reasoned, needed to harness that creative outburst. He devised a plan to do it.

    It was remarkable in its simplicity: LaRue decided to build a digital warehouse and contracting system, which would allow his libraries to purchase directly from smaller publishers and authors, cutting out the Big Six and OverDrive, which would mean lower prices. In January 2011, Douglas County Libraries purchased Adobe software that for $10,000 would serve as the backbone of the new system, safely transferring files from the provider to the library to the reader. LaRue wrote “Dear Publishing Partner” letters, setting simple yet firm expectations for how the content would be handled and eliminating the restrictions that accompanied the major publishers’ products. The whole enterprise cost $200,000, but LaRue says the libraries have already saved that much in a year because the prices they’re paying for the independent and self-published materials are much lower, up to 45 percent below retail.

    The system went live in February 2012, and LaRue went to work finding partners. They soon flooded Douglas County’s digital shelves. The libraries have so far purchased e-books from more than 900 smaller publishers and hundreds of individual authors. They make up 21,000 of the 35,000 titles in his virtual catalog. The rest come from the major publishers, sold through intermediaries at much higher prices. Those mainstream titles are still more popular with readers, making up 65 percent of the county’s loans, but it’s clear that the appetite for the independent and self-published content is growing…

    Copy that.