It was LIBRARY WEEK... and you didn't even know it.

Chasing the Almighty Number

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I Might Actually Pay Myself to Work

It's true, I might actually pay part of my own salary, isn't that a little silly? Now, I don't live in the city where I work, so my property taxes don't go to paying my salary, but what about my federal income tax that trickles down in the form of grants and other such things?

It's not just librarians either. What about teachers who live in the district where they work? Or firemen, or cops, or environmental investigators, or G-men? Doesn't this seem like a massive hemorrhage of money? Why should someone who's salary is paid for through income tax, have to pay income tax? They (or rather, we) pay our taxes so that someone else can tally them up (and get paid to do it!) and then give them back in the form of wages. Surely it would make more sense to simply not take the money out in the first place, and adjust our wages accordingly.
How hard would it be to discover how much money a government worker is paying themselves and get rid of it. It's a wash. Actually, what should be a zero sum game is not. Am I alone thinking this is extremely inefficient?

In relation to libraries, I'm just wondering how much money could be saved (here to be read as "spent on other expenses") if we take out the cost of this middle man. Unfortunately, I'm not good enough at math (here to be read "I'm much too lazy") to figure it out. But, on the surface, doesn't it seem to just make sense? Anyone?

My Take on Fines (and why we need something better).

PEOPLE ARE STEALING FROM THE LIBRARY! Everyday, in every library across the world (maybe a little exaggeration there) people steal from the library. Seeing as how you pay for and are a community owner of the library, they are, by extension, stealing from you! Why are you putting up with it?

As I've mentioned in my other post, libraries have fines as a method for ensuring equal access to public materials. If you damage a library item, you have to pay for it. If you lose a library item, you have to pay for it. If you are late bringing a library item back, you have to pay for it... maybe, sometimes, depending on who's working that day and what the item is and how many times you've returned other materials late. Oh yeah, and if you smile or have good bartering or lying skills. Now, I don't think these fines work. Let's examine two reasons why.

First, it is extremely hard to explain to people why they have to pay money when they turned a book in late if no one else wants it. On top of that, often all they had to do to save money was call or go online and renew the item. The theory behind this is very philosophical, and hard to wrap your head around. The practical side of this is just plain silly. These are the fines that I have no problem waiving.

Second, once patrons reach a fine level that prevents them from checking out (or rather they must pay more money than they are willing in order to check out) they simply quit coming to the library to check things out. Someone with a $30 fine will probably just let that sit and nothing will ever come from it until many years later when they need the library again. In these cases, often times this fine is waived due to age and lost information from every new records management system the library has used over this timespan.

Neither one of these are stealing, though the second reason often coincides with library theft. When I did mention stealing before, admittedly much like a local news broadcast will lead with how the dirt on the bottom of your purse could kill you, I was a little misleading. Let me define the theft of which I wrote. This is not the "shrinkage" that retail stores deal with. This is not shoplifting and pocketing of DVDs and Cds that bypass security and simply disappear. Instead, I mean people check out items and never bring them back. Most libraries have those patrons with hundreds and hundreds of dollars worth of fines for "lost" materials. In my book, whenever someone borrows something and never returns it, they stole it. This is the type of theft that goes on everyday, and no one seems to care!

The only punishment these thieves receive is to limit them from using library materials at home. They can still come in and read our books, sit in our chairs, use our restrooms, check their e-mail on our computers, etc., even though they stole from us and we know it! This is really why fines don't work. We need to treat these people (ok, only those that don't pay for what they've lost. Many of these people will pay or replace the item.) just as if they stuck the DVD in their backpack and bolted out the door. They are theives, plain and simple. Why doesn't anyone see this?!

Oh, Venezuela!

The people of Venezuela have recently taken steps to pull themselves up to the level of rural, depression era Kentuckians who "were living lives similar to their ancestors, with no indoor plumbing, electricity, telephone service or radio access."

According to the BBC's story, a University in Venezuela is providing library books to the mountainous farming villages via pack mule. If you follow links, you would already know that this is not a novel idea, as the report claims, but a direct theft from Roosevelt's alphabet
legislation.

This isn't the funny part though. The best part is that there are plans to put laptops on the mules! Way to go Venezuela! Fight the image of your land as a third world country by putting computers on mules! I actually laughed out loud when I read this. I have no doubt that is program is backed and promoted as a successful vision by every idiot in charge of the country.

I can't help it, but isn't this putting the cart in front of the... well, mule? If you want internet access, BUILD A BUILDING! Forget delivering new technology via the domesticated animal. If you want to leap into the 21st century, you can't drag big parts of the past with you. If you can afford wireless internet modems in the banana trees (that's not a joke either, read the story!), then you can afford a small hut to put the computer in.

Why do we hate Snitches?

Well, why do we hate tattle-tales?
It would seem as if they perform a function that benefits all of society. The informer. The stool pigeon. The rat fink. None of these conjure tales of heroism, community service, or courage. Why is that? I feel no differently than most when confronted with these people. Why do I want to punish the kid who comes and tells me that his friend (?) is bypassing our computer reservation system to his advantage? Why do I, deep inside, say "good for him, he beat the system!"

Why, in movies, do we cheer for the bank robber, and loath the coconspirator who prevents the money from falling into the wrong hands?

Libraries, or at least public one's, are rife with such stoolies. Having to deal with them every day, I think I've formulated and answer. Personally, I hate these little snitches because their motivation derives completely from a selfish sense of injustice. They don't tell on someone because they are doing something wrong. They tell on someone because they don't want them to get away with something they got caught for! If they can't do it, no one can. This is the motivation of the tattle tale.

There is also the motivation of reward. They think if they inform then they will be rewarded. Often this is the case. I'm not sure how I feel about these people. I think I can understand this a little better. This, however, is not the motivating factor behind the library tattler. The problem with these tattlers is that the temptation, once a level of trust is established, can lead directly to unfounded accusations.

If I were to waive fines for those who told me of rule infractions, I know that it would take no time at all for lies to be told for personal gain.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the underlying feeling in society when it comes to informers. Either they are selfish crybabies who don't want anyone to have fun if they can't, or they are lying cheats who will make you look bad for a buck.

Now that I've pegged down my view of the problem... anyone got a solution?

What a Great Show

I got this new phone a little while back, and I've been bragging about it ever since. Now, it's not an I-phone or anything, but it was completely free to me and it does a lot more stuff than my old one. One of the great features is that it has MP3 capabilities in conjunction with a Micro SD card slot. What does this mean? It means that I can listen to my phone. Nothing too terribly new, I know, but I just finished using it to listen to the greatest radio program of all time whilst getting my morning work done.

For those of you who haven't yet experienced This American Life... I cannot explain what you are missing. Enlightenment awaits you, don't let it down. I know it won't be too long before you're subscribing to the weekly free podcast because you have to work on Saturdays at noon.

Anyway, my point is that TAL and my new phone are like chocolate and peanut butter (for those of you who don't know, I believe this is man's greatest accomplishment... ever!)

I'm really hoping that my library gets the show on DVD!

Libraries of the FUTURE...FUTure...Future...future

I would just like to say that Olive Software is awesome. I have no idea what it costs, but it can singlehandedly transfer a brick and mortar library into an online oasis of information. The way it translates into XML is so brilliant that I cannot possible understand how it's done.
It can create immediate online content out of archived materials, fresh from the printer newsletters, and anything else you can imagine. What if that archive of transcribed oral histories could be key word searchable? Or the hard copies of computer files that no one can access due to outdated formats? I'm sure you can all think of great applications for this...

Wait a second, I am not selling this, I promise. I just don't know of anything else that does exactly what this does. If you know of any, please tell me.

Oh yeah, the answer to the BLOG of TRIVIA is... the item pictured is the first working transitor, manufactured by Bell Labs in 1947. Pat yourselves on the back if you knew that already.

The Problem with DVDs.

I was watching Apocalypto last night on a copy that I had checked out from the library, after months spent on the waiting list. Everything is fine, no skips or jumps, until 1 hour and 8 minutes (+/-) into the movie. Then, the DVD stalls, skips ahead 1 minute, stalls again, skips ahead 20 minutes, stalls again, and skips ahead another 30 minutes. This process took about 30 seconds. Luckily, I was able to remove the disc, clean it, and finish watching to movie without any more problems. This is not always the case.
DVDs are too sensitive in their current form to provide a shelf life that justifies their cost to the library. Sure, they check out exponentially more times than most books, but only if they find a way to escape the scratches. A library with, many times a day, check out a DVD that cannot function fully and properly. Would they check out a book that is missing pages? Or completely water damaged? No. The difference is that library staff can much more easily spot books and other media that are damaged, whereas detecting damaged DVDs is more art than science. Also, it seems as if patrons have come to expect nothing more from their library (beggars can't be choosers?) and fail to inform staff of inferior products and services. Again, they don't take this same course with books. What makes DVDs so different?
First of all, patrons probably understand the fragile nature of DVDs much better than they do of books. I'm sure they own many DVDs scratched beyond playability. Also, libraries can purchase books with special bindings intended to put up with wear and tear of library use. Library format DVDs (to the best of my knowledge) do not exist. Perhaps the material used to make scratch resistant glasses should be employed to make scratch resistant DVDs. This would make them more expensive, but at $29.99 now, would twice the price for 4 times the life be a bad deal?

The real solution, of course, was murdered by the
Digital Millennium Copyright Act. I don't want to sound all crazy about works of art belonging to the public and all, but libraries have proven to be an exception. Legally, libraries can reproduce DVDs in order to keep the original copy in the "archives" and circulate the duplicate. If this was the case, as soon as the duplicate is damaged, libraries could throw it away and replace it immediately at very little cost. Though this is legal, it is illegal to even own a machine or software able to bypass the copy protecting encryption (even in the most basic and useless forms)that is standard on nearly every DVD produced. It is actually illegal to even attempt to find out how to perform such a bypass.
What I guess I am saying is... I don't know. I hate it when I can't watch a movie I got from the library because the same format that gives superior picture and sound is too fragile for viable everyday use. It's not a matter of treating them better when you check them out (well, it kind of is... but that's another blog entirely). It's a matter of a library buying something they expect to break, with full knowledge that it won't last long, simply to have it. What a waste of money. Want to read another blog? Go back to the start of this one and replace the "DVD"s with "paperback books."

Two Types of Librarians (Of Which I Have NEVER Met Either)

In an effort to fully flesh out the classification of the different human elements found in public library service, I have decided to define types as I identify them, leaving the complications associated with establishing an in depth system to the side for a moment.

I decided to start with two types of librarians, which I am lucky enough to only have witnessed at other libraries and never had to work with...

The first group are known (by me) as the SQUATTERS. They want to stay where they are and not change a thing. They have spent years of their hardest work (?) to prepare procedures and a corporate culture that ensures no change is possible. They only thing that will dislodge them is time combined with a concerted effort by their successors. The squatters were not always this way, however. They used to desire to change, to do things their way. At some point, they realized that this isn't all it's cracked up to be, and they found, magically, that the spot they were in at that moment was perfect. They then spend their careers trying to keep it that way. They kill innovation via the informal filibuster. They also know every detail of every policy, either because they wrote it or they don't like it. Ironically, their e-mails can often be identified by extremely ornate backgrounds, fonts, theme music, and other HTML goodies.

Go figure.

The other type to define today are the

IDEALISTS. These folks are either fresh out of library school, or have recently been reintroduced to the public sector. They expect a library to function smoothly, with rational thought at the reason for rules and policy. They are still blind to the reality of their positions as babysitters and movie finders. They are still waiting for the opportunity to enlighten the masses. They wait so long that helping some high school kid do his homework by showing him how an index works actually passes as a victory.

Librarians can remain idealists forever. They can also, after years of fruitless struggle, morph into a squatter. A third option is that they ride the belief that they can make a difference all the way into a management position. This is how they become the nemesis of the squatter. Once in management, they find that they are too busy listening to the complaints of squatters and the ideas of the new idealists to get anything done other than scheduling.

The other option for idealists? Complete burnout and profession change.

They can be identified by the tired smile on their faces and the frustrated tone of their e-mails.

The Inner Workings of the Public Library Part I

The Life Cycle of a Public Library Book

I have taken it upon myself to detail the life cycle of a public library book in order to form a response to a frequently asked question: "Whach yall do wit dose ode books and stuff?"

If a library book were alive, its point of conception would be what is known as the ordering phase. A librarian is courted by publishers and vendors via trade and advertisement publications. With the gloss of the cover like a twinkle in the eye, the black and white pictures of the book like a lover's promise, the publisher's review like a boastful suitor's speech, the librarian cannot help but fall in love.
(Much like real life, however, the librarian can order a book simply to fill a need. The resulting purchase is usually made after the librarian is met with selection list lacking anything better. In fact, this is much more often the case... at least with library books.)
The next stage is known as processing, or, sometimes, pre-processing. This is the equivalent of a naming ceremony, the confirmation, and the circumcision. The book is stamped with the name of the library to ruin its chances at ever being considered valuable. Thus a promising first edition is forced to serve the public good. A security device is installed, and a sticker to aid location is attached. The book, freshly aware of its place in the library, is now ready for introduction to its public.
From here the book can follow along two very different paths that lead to a shared end. The path of the unpopular book is one of dust and inertia. Occasionally someone will check it out, but not enough to warrant the shelf space it occupies. This book will be "weeded" due to limited number of checkouts. An alternative to this would be that the books inertia carries it in obscurity until someone notices the information it provides is outdated or proven incorrect. Then it is weeded.
The second path is one of extreme popularity. The book actually checks out so much that it needs to be removed from the collection, often before most patrons even know the library owns it. This counterintuitive measure must be taken. Books that check out at a higher than average rate are likely to be damaged through use. Broken spines, loose and missing pages, water (coffee, urine, kool-aid) damage, eaten by a dog (baby), stolen, vandalized, or other forms of destruction await these books. Since most of these titles are ordered in multiples, these books are weeded and often not replaced. Not thanked for their sacrifices, these books disappear quietly, with little more than a gasp caused by their condition as a eulogy.
(I shall not attempt to judge which is the more depressing path. Instead, I will find solace in the fact that books are inanimate objects that possess no feelings or desires whatsoever.)
After the book is weeded, it again finds itself on one of two possible paths. The first path is reserved for books whose condition may allow them further service. These books are typically sold for pennies on the dollar to help fund the library. One final sacrifice for those who didn't already give everything to their duty. You can find these in "Friends of the Library" book sales. If you buy a book that has a library stamp on it, paired with a "withdrawn" stamp, this was its past.
The books that are too broken to sell for two bits are recycled. By recycled, as a matter of remaining truthful, I mean thrown away. These books are usually deposited into black, thick trash bags so that no one sees them during their final journey. For some reason, people can get upset when they discover that their library destroys books. (I believe I have explained enough so that it is understood that the library doesn't destroy books, it simply removes books that have been destroyed.)
The vacant shelf space left by these books must be filled, which brings us back full circle.

As a librarian, granted a pretty inexperienced one, I have discovered quite a few things about an entrenched bureaucracy recently. More on that later... I think we need a little background info first.

I graduated with my MIS in December of 2006. Since that time (and a little before) I have been working in a large public library system as someone near the bottom of the totem pole in my caste. For those of you who are unaware, the library professions are separated into 5 very segregated classes. While each class definitely has subgroups (which I am currently working on classifying fully)they are so segregated that I shall, from now on, refer to them strictly as castes. They are listed in order of salary, greatest to least.

(the descriptions below are solely stereotypical, and should be treated however you desire)

The top level caste is known as administration. Perhaps they were librarians once, but they are no longer. Not that this is a bad thing. The function of this caste is to herd the other castes toward the goal, or mission, of the library. There are many other, dirty, nasty, sweaty responsibilities too, but since I don't understand almost anything that they do, we shall just leave it with the generalization that they run the library.

Next are the librarians. Members of this caste vary widely in age and responsibility, but share certain characteristics. You can often find them in meetings. They can find you what you need if they want to. This is not to say that members of the other castes are unable to do this, but more along the lines that this is what this caste does. There is also programming, reader advisory, babysitting, etc.; but, mainly these are the information seekers and disseminators. It should be mentioned that, as we speak, this caste is involved in a civil war of sorts. The future of this group hangs in the balance. On one side sits that "old guard" who might not actually want to help you anymore. The information you want to find might exist in a medium that was invented long after they stopped keeping themselves up to date with current trends. They have, rightfully so(?), earned their pensions and want to be left alone (or talk about books with their chronological peers). Pacing up and down the other side of the divide are members of the "cult of technology". These librarians want to overhaul everything so that patrons (that's what libraries call customers and the homeless) can get at everything they need to know without getting out from in front of the public access computer screen. They are the Gods of the Diest's library. They hope to set things in motion, tweaking once in a while, and watch the beauty of library life as it unfolds. "The more the patrons can do for themselves," this group says, "the more time we can spend doing important things." These important things seem to include figuring out other ways for patrons to help themselves. Of course, most librarians fall in between of these two sides, but what group isn't defined by it's extremes?

The third caste is made up of Clerks. Clerks check out your materials, take your fines, complain at you for leaving disc 2 of that platinum special edition DVD in your player when you returned it on time. They are also the ones that, probably, answer the phones when you call, and relate your situations to management. This group can hold a lot of power, and they're not afraid to use it. They, generally, do not help you find something, unless you just returned it, or you never really returned it at all and you're trying to fool them. They don't like things to change, and can often be found explaining how past procedures are better than current ones.

The 4th caste's members are known as paiges. They do not page people. They do shelve books. They shelve the heck out of books. Good paiges make clean, nice and easily navigable libraries. Bad paiges make libraries where nothing can be found, and is often still in the back. They require no special training, education, or experience. I would like to call them the unsung heroes of the library world, but too many of them would be too quick to point this fact out themselves. Smaller library systems do without this caste, adding their duties to those of the clerks, or subsisting with work performed by the next, and final, caste.

Finally, there are the volunteers. There are two main types, both of which should be on the endangered species list. The first type is court ordered. These are people who have to perform some sort of community service, and would rather work indoors at the library than scraping gum off of toilet stalls at the rec, center. The second type are far more uncommon, much more rare than anything you can order at your favorite steakhouse. These are the volunteers who are actually volunteering their time, not giving it in exchange for something else. Volunteers can be amazing or horrible. They can save you money, or waste your time, do the things no one else will, or do nothing much at all. They are the great gamble in the library, or they would be if they cost anything.

This is the underlying nature of the society of public libraries. The constant push and pull between these groups, caused somewhat by the extreme, nearly impenetrable, caste system, has led to the state of public libraries today. I'm sure I'm missing whole groups of people who will feel extremely left out and offended by the fact that I don't realize that the library wouldn't function without them.

Soon I will enlighten you on the way that libraries actually work (or rather how the interactions between these caste members and the public allow the library to float along with no end in sight.)

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