Blog Post #1

Blog Entry #1

I have become preoccupied with the idea of keeping tabs on changes throughout the classification and cataloging systems both within the field of Library and Information Science (LIS) and some outlying fields as well. Let’s focus on LIS for the time being. With the progression of thought and terms and what should be considered “politically correct” at any point in time, the LIS field faces the task of determining how things should be classified and cataloged. The goal is to make things more accessible while making it continually more accurate. However, within this voyage for accuracy, there are loads of biases one has to account for within these classifications. For example, cross classification of terms that could mean one thing to a middle class white American and something else entirely to a person in Eastern Europe or Africa or Asia. This could go both ways though, right? Who is to say that our classification systems are the best and most current or even the most correct? Should there be an international system? Who decides that? This could go on forever. At this moment in time, there is no one way of classifying or cataloging and that is okay, because within those differences is the opportunity to learn and grow from others. My primary concern is the lack of communication and interconnectedness between world classification systems and how that affects the rapidly changing information.

I personally think that the changing of language and overall perception is seen most clearly within the Mental Health field. The language used there comes from the American Psychiatric Association and is conveyed through the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) which outlines diagnoses. Changing language, that is, the way something is explained or categorized in this sense, is a revision process that can take a prolonged period of time. So what happens when mental health professionals are trying to change the perception of how the general public views something as well-known as suicide? When did it go from “committing suicide” to “completing suicide”? Who considered changing the wording based on the idea that “committing” makes it sound like the person has gotten away with a criminal act (omitting the Church’s viewpoints for simplicity’s sake…let’s pretend we live in an atheistic society for now)? How is that translated to the non-mental health professionals of the world?

The idea of mental health professionals changing how something is portrayed is to tackle it at the ground floor in order to change the public’s sense of a specific thing. With this in mind, and knowing that changing terms in the DSM is time consuming, what really matters when keeping track of these types of changes when looking at an academic library setting? One international system for the electronic exchange of clinical health information is SNOMED-CT (Systemized Nomenclature of Medicine-Clinical Terms) (nlm.nih.gov). SNOMED provides structured medical language that is consistent across the board to draw on the same vernacular and as a way to categorize terms within the medical fields. SNOMED keeps track and maintains this medical database and language, allowing the option for libraries to draw from that resource. Another database is the ICD-10 (International Classification Database) which incorporates the DSM language making it more accessible for academic libraries, universities, academia-related searched, and new keywords out to medical professionals (www.who.int). This database creates a sort of crosswalk between the ICD codes and the DSM codes to increase specificity and classify clinical health issues. The ICD is also largely used for billing purposes, as people and services need to know what they are being billed for, which increases the need for precision of the database.

So how are these resources helpful in the classification, cataloging and changing of terms? Let’s go back to suicide. Instead of the term “suicide” let’s pretend that the APA decided to change it to “picking flowers” because that sounds nicer. If someone were to do a search for the new term “picking flowers,” a week after the new term was decided upon, the chances of there being anything written on picking flowers in slim. However, within search engines, there is an electronic crosswalk between suicide and picking flowers which links the old term with the new. The extent of the crosswalk depends on who is maintaining those search engines and from where they are receiving their information. Would Google have a relationship with the APA to keep track of changing terms?   Perhaps.

Now if it’s once again “committing” vs. “completing” the database would implement fuzzy logic which doesn’t require it to be one or the other, only that they can be close enough within the same meaning in order for the software to alert the database of the parameters (like a thesaurus). This comes in handy, especially as medical terms are being updated constantly. Libraries can have access to those types of systems and software as they are all Internet-based though they can be costly, especially if only being used for research. However, libraries form a powerful lobbying force and can often negotiate a more cost-effective contract.

The possibility of accessing these databases on an academic level and the interconnectedness of those databases with the APA relieves some of my fears about the loss of changing information within the mental health field. However it gets me thinking about other fields of study that may or may not have those options for sharing information. If so, do they also share their information and open it up to libraries? Would there be a need for a more vastly overlapping, more inclusive cataloging system in the world we live in today? We would probably need to take that on a case-by-case basis but the general idea is the same. Regardless of topic, there is always some benefit with information sharing that includes library systems which can help to maintain and catalog the influx of information as it comes in this now digital world.

 

 

 

 

https://www.nlm.nih.gov/research/umls/Snomed/snomed_main.html

plato.stanford.edu/entries/logic-fuzzy

www.who.int.classifications/icd/en/

Neutrality at the Library: Whose Side are We on, Anyway?

hmmm….true?

It seems odd to say that neutrality is something that can incite passionate debate in the world of libraries, but it’s true. The aim for neutrality -or even the question of its existence in the field- has been outlined in scholarly articles, discussed in the open forum of Twitter, and has even inspired national campaigns for improved materials. If neutrality is defined as being impartial and unbiased, how come so many library professionals feel so strongly about the concept?

“Neutrality is just being what the system asks us to be,” write Myles Horton and Paulo Friere in a piece about education and social change. Following this logic, all libraries are inviting spaces where all users can find what they seek and have no complaints about the collection, the environment, or their general experience. Of course if you’ve ever been to a library before you’d know this idyll is impossible to manage; sometimes the library you’re in doesn’t have the book you’re looking for, or maybe it does and you can’t seem to find it. Libraries struggle from the expectation of being warm yet authoritarian spaces, and the endless quest to balance those two elements comes at a cost.

Finding the right book at the library might not be as simple as whether it’s on the shelf, though- your library might not even think your interests are worthy enough for their collection. If neutrality is “a code word for the existing system,” as Horton and Friere suggest, then what word really represents is the default western white male viewpoint of what “should” be inside a library. Hope Olson writes about the rigidity of cataloging and how there is a detectable, specific point of view despite the attempt to be easily digestible by all; “One notes far more references to narrower terms under ‘Women’ than under ‘Men,'” she says. “Many of these terms draw attention to women as exceptions to a male norm.”

Similarly, Emily Drabinski writes about how controlled vocabulary “fail[s] to accurately and respectfully organize library materials about social groups and identities that lack social and political power.” Once again, the rigidity of classic cataloging practices is a disservice to queer theory and proves to be exclusionary, showing preference for a “norm” by means of aggressive classification. So which is worse, going to the library and finding something horribly mislabeled, or finding nothing at all?

Luckily, many library professionals are already aware of the imbalance in their collections, as a recent #critlib discussion on Twitter illustrates. The topic on the table was ‘critical approaches to library data and systems,’ with the first question asking whether libraries and systems can ever be neutral. Participants did not hold back, immediately criticizing the narrowness of library practices; “neutrality is the side of those in power!” wrote one user. Another chimed in and said the word neutral “sounds too close to passive,” while someone else went straight to the core of the problem with library systems. “[Can libraries be] neutral? No. Our cat[alog] languages, systems & vocabs are biased toward Western culture. True universality is a lofty goal.” Frustrations continued with other participants noting how difficult it is to build impartial collections when vendors already have limited offerings. With publishers catering overwhelmingly to Western audiences, once again a statement is made about what (and who) is thought to be the default.

Efforts have unfolded to address weak spots in library collections, like the We Need Diverse Books (WNDB) campaign, which works to bring more diverse literature to shelves in childrens’ libraries. In their mission statement, the group states, “We recognize all diverse experiences, including (but not limited to) LGBTQIA, people of color, gender diversity, people with disabilities, and ethnic, cultural, and religious minorities.” Members of the WNDB team have also acknowledged the bias in the world of publishing, and aim to work from the ground up to ensure that the future of childrens’ literature is more inclusive.

Of course, goals like diversifying childrens’ literature or queering the catalog both have clear, specific objectives and cannot be considered impartial actions on their own. The key though, is that they both push back against the existing biased framework of library systems. “The system hides exclusions under the guise of neutrality,” writes Olson. “Not surprisingly, this fundamental presumption on which our practice rests disproportionately affects access to information outside of the cultural mainstream and about groups marginalized in our society.” How can libraries ever be neutral if this glaring problem continues to exist? The only way towards neutrality is to correct the imbalance already in place.

Going forward, librarians must make every effort to collect materials that reflect a wide range of worldview, with particular sensitivity to local audiences. It would be disheartening if a patron went to their library and saw nothing of themselves in any part of the collection, but it would also be a disservice to omit any other worldview for the sake of streamlining.  Libraries should not be conservative in the name of pleasing all, but liberal with their materials

to the point of perhaps even ruffling some patrons’ feathers.  In order to create a true balance, the bias of the current “neutral” system must continue to be acknowledged and combated.

 

 

References

Horton, Myles, and Brenda Bell. We Make the Road by Walking: Conversations on Education and Social Change. Philadelphia: Temple UP, 1990.

Olson, H. A. (2001). The Power to Name: Representation in Library Catalogs. Signs, 26, 3, 639-668.

Drabinksi, E. (2013), “Queering the catalog: queer theory and the politics of correction” The Library Quarterly: Information, Community, Policy 83(2): 94–111.

http://weneeddiversebooks.org/faq/

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FH5AmZws4QZa7iJFB24E1j2OW2lcZUiSqcSXts9esZw/edit#

 

Libraries and Local Government: How NYC’s Municipal ID Program Addresses Information Access

In “A Political Economy of Librarianship?”, William F. Birdsall says that libraries are neither neutral nor airtight to the political climate of the outside world – that, in fact, a library environment is informed by the political and economic values of its surroundings (Birdsall 2). I often consider the many ways in which public libraries reflect the public policy initiatives of the nations, states, and cities in which they are located, especially in areas where elected officials invoke more ‘progressive’ ideologies that value public goods over privatization. In New York, where I live, City Hall’s policies have recently been driven by the populist left, which has paid special attention to the NYC’s breadth of public services, cultural institutions, and libraries. Unlike the fiscally conservative Michael Bloomberg, whose mayoral policies resulted in decreased operational subsidies for libraries, current Mayor Bill De Blasio is implementing programs and funding initiatives that will both improve the functionality and increase use of public libraries by all New Yorkers (Giles 36).

In addition to pumping $39 million into the city’s library budget, in January 2015 the mayor also rolled out the IDNYC, a municipal identification card issued by the city of New York which is also accepted as a library card at New York City’s three library systems. The IDNYC is the largest municipal ID program in history, made unique by offering up multi-uses and incentives crafted to benefit residents of New York City. According to the official website, one is able to apply for a card if they can provide proof of address and identity, although alternative options such as “care-of” forms are available for “…the most vulnerable communities—the homeless, youth, the elderly, undocumented immigrants, the formerly incarcerated and others who may have difficulty obtaining other government-issued ID” (IDNYC).

To summarize, IDNYC makes it possible for socially-excluded and otherwise undocumented residents to obtain valid forms of identification. Furthermore, its dual use as both an accepted ID and a library card is meant to incentivize New Yorkers to visit libraries and seek out the city’s many public services. The municipal ID card is truly a ‘one stop shop’ for access to many buildings in the city of New York. The IDNYC program’s popularity, with over 400,000 applicants and a 98% success rate as of August 2015, is a testament to power of libraries working with local governments to align goals and create programs that encourage more diverse patronage of public libraries.

I’m most interested in the idea of IDNYC as a tool of social inclusion; imperfect, of course, but also a real life example of John Gehner’s idea that libraries should work toward removing “barriers” that may further “…alienate socially excluded groups” from accessing public goods (Gehner 41). These barriers are rarely self-imposed and run the risk of flying under the radar, much to the detriment of the social-excluded peoples who likely need access public services the most. For example, Annette DeFaveri’s “Breaking Barriers” expresses dissatisfaction with library circulation policies that prohibit homeless individuals and those without proof of address and identification from procuring library cards (DeFaveri 5-6). While I understand promoting information access for socially-excluded groups is a pervasive, complex issue that requires reform at every level of the library’s functionality, I believe socially-excluded peoples must first be physically welcome through the library’s doors in order to access its resources and use its space. How would it be possible for the library’s internal mechanisms to reform and improve if socially excluded groups are barred from participating?

Annette DeFavari’s “Breaking Barriers” expresses a similar idea, saying that one way to create an inclusive place is to “emphasize the importance of the library’s initial contact with new patrons” (DeFaveri 2). This got me thinking about how important it is for library policy-makers to consider whether the library’s bureaucratic process of procuring a library card summons feelings of ‘otherness’ for certain groups. Some ideas to consider are whether the library card application is translated into multiple languages, whether patrons confined to online registration, whether circulation desk attendants are available to help, and if the application requires proof of US citizenship or proof of residence. These attributes of the application process, which may echo other ‘standard’ procedures such as filing taxes or employment applications, are placing an invisible blockade between the patron and the front doors of the library.

The IDNYC program, which folds in library card services, sends a concerted effort from City Hall to construct an accessible municipal ID procurement process by printing applications in 25 languages, offering registration in each borough and in public libraries, and creating positions for staff members to assist ID applicants. Proof of residence can be substantiated with a letter from “a City agency, nonprofit organization, religious institution, hospital, or health clinic in New York City” (IDNYC).

While the goal is inclusivity, I will note that there are still many facets of the program that may deter certain groups of New Yorkers from applying for municipal IDs. For example, a resident’s ability to access online letterheads could be limited, or maybe the resident simply feels uncomfortable approaching institutions for proof of residence letters. It is also possible that interacting with city officials may, as DeFaveri says, “…engender suspicion of authority, isolation, and non-participation” (DaFaveri 2). To quell these disinclinations, the installation of registration centers at community gathering spots such as parks, YMCAs and non-profits was introduced to make registration friendlier and more community-oriented. An inviting process of procuring library cards is one step toward opening the library to all, and thus, a step toward improving literacy within communities.

Critics of IDNYC have detailed concerns about the program’s policies surrounding security and privacy, and have expressed apprehension about ID holders being stigmatized when seeking out public services. I thought one of the most interesting aspects of this campaign was the care taken to camouflage ID holders without citizenship or permanent residencies, making their IDs indistinguishable from card holders who do have citizenship and residences. The ID holder’s personal information from their application is stored in a database which is only accessible to the HRA and is not connected to any other government authorities or law enforcement (IDNYC). To further protect the privacy of ID holder, addresses on not stored in the database at all, further diminishing an unlikely scenario in which an ID holder’s card information would be used national security tracking (IDNYC).

Beyond the actual privacy measures meant to protect IDNYC carriers, City Hall made inroads with NYC’s cultural institutions, health care providers, libraries, and public agencies, creating incentives attractive to all New Yorkers, as opposed to just socially-excluded groups. The idea that all types of New York residents find use and purpose in the municipal ID is settling – in a way, it further camouflages the ID holder and prevents conflation between IDNYC cards and criminality, underprivileged backgrounds, immigrant status, and disability. The IDNYC does not simply address the issue of socially-excluded peoples being refused library cards, but instead quells to the age-old myth that a municipality’s public services are most sought after by socially-excluded peoples.

I want to reiterate that the IDNYC is still imperfect: it does not address the issue of library fines prohibiting participation in the public library systems, it does not address internal library policies, and it certainly does not set any guidelines about accessible organizational methods within libraries, or staff behavior toward patrons. This article is also not an endorsement of government structures as they exist today – only an endorsement one government program’s potential. While New York City’s political climate has certainly assumed more of a leftist stance under De Blasio, broken windows still exists, real estate zoning laws are still influenced by corruption, and many socially-excluded groups feel insecure navigating the city-sponsored services. I only highlighted aspects of the IDNYC program that remove some of the barriers that prevent patrons from viewing libraries as a local resource – aspects that attempt to undo some of the damage created by a hegemonic system. When local governments and public libraries find common ground, and create programs to reflect their respective goals, I believe immense improvements can be made in the areas of access and literacy. This is why, Birdsall says, “…librarians need to devote more effort researching the political and economic dynamic that define the past and current environment of libraries” (Birdsall, p. 3). Thus, librarians must be tuned in to the political climate of their city, and engage themselves in local politics to enact necessary changes to public library systems.

References:

Birdsall, William F. (2001). “A political economy of librarianship?” Progressive Librarian 18: 1-8.

DeFaveri, Annette. (2005). “Breaking Barriers: Libraries and Socially Excluded Communities.”

Information for Social Change. 21: Summer. http://libr.org/isc/articles/21/9.pdf (Accessed September 28, 2015)

Gehner (2010). “Libraries, low-income people, and social exclusion.” Public Libraries Quarterly 29: 39–47.

Giles, David, Jeanette Estima, and Noelle Francois. Re-envisioning New York’s Branch Libraries. Rep. New York, NY: Center for An Urban Future, 2014. https://nycfuture.org/pdf/Re-Envisioning-New-Yorks-Branch-Libraries.pdf (Accessed September 28, 2015)

IDNYC. (2015). “IDNYC”. http://www1.nyc.gov/site/idnyc/index.page. (Accessed September 28, 2015).

Art and the AI Dream: Stelarc’s Avatar with No Organs

The Australian performance artist Stelarc is a bit of an oddity in the contemporary art scene. Employing biocybernetic concepts and processes to his work, he is well-versed in creating hybridized forms that speak to ideas of human agency, informational interfaces, and digital capabilities in the modern world. His work primarily focuses on exploring “alternative anatomical architectures”[1] that touch on the psychological and physical limitations of the body and and technology. By means of video manipulation, surgical intervention, and robotic automation, the body becomes a medium of experimentation and an interface of interaction.

Stelarc conceives of his Prosthetic Head (Fig. 1) in such terms. The Head involves a digitally-rendered projection of the artist’s face programmed to interact with gallery visitors who talk to it via a central keyboard. Stelarc admits that he had envisioned the Head having speech and visual recognition capabilities, but technological limitations prevented these from being realized.[2]

head-animation-on-white

Fig. 1. Stelarc, Prosthetic Head, 2003.

Instead of referring to the Head as an “Autonomous Agent”, Stelarc refers to it as an “Embodied Conversational Agent.”[3] While at first glance the head would seem to be firmly rooted in AI tradition, Stelarc does not create (nor intend to create) an independent subject. He has instead set up the digital architecture of his agent through ALICE (Artificial Linguistic Internet Computer Entity) technology. Utilizing AIML (Artificial Intelligence Markup Language) the digitally-rendered bot formulates automatic responses based on user inputs.[4] Relying on the input of the user, Stelarc’s Head is less autonomous than it is reflective; as the artist himself has remarked, “the Prosthetic Head is only as intelligent as the person who is interrogating it.”[5]

The user’s textual interface with the Prosthetic Head is important here. The words typed out on the screen are only audible by the Head’s reiteration. Thinking in terms of Marcia Bates’s fundamental forms of information, this sets up an odd relational model. The user’s expressed information, following Bates, becomes embedded in the agent’s short-term database of information. Since the Head and the user are, after all, having a “conversation,” this information is reflected back onto the user, making our subjective experience of this information more apparent.[6] Marking an exterior focal interface, the reflection the user is faced with is something strange and alien yet, at the same time, familiar. According to Stelarc,

the human then is not something considered in-itself, but rather it it’s exteriority.[…]What is important is not essences and identities, but overlaps and interfaces. In this shift from essence to interface, we need to construct identity and awareness as external.[…]Self and subjectivity then is primarily an experience continuously being constructed externally, and remains open to change, inconsistency and contradiction. The subject does not define itself, but rather is defined by something outside of itself.[7]

The disembodied head becomes the prosthetic, digital embodiment of the user’s mind.

Stelarc attempts to find a new relational schema of the body and consciousness in this unfixed and undefined postmodern realm. He is essentially exploring the limits and potential of the human body, technology, and digital data. The Prosthetic Head is a bit different from previous projects, however, in that the physical body is completely eliminated, constructing this Head as a “body without organs.” Borrowing a concept from Gilles Deleuze, the body quite literally becomes a screen–a surface of random interplays and interactions that redefines the subject as more of a flowing process than a defined product.   In some ways, the user’s body becomes an extension (a prostheses) of the digital entity.

Stelarc takes a classical AI form that is “representational, rational, and disembodied”, but makes it function within a “reactive, situated, and embodied” subjectivity presupposed by Alternative AI.[8] The glaring deficiencies of the Head’s rational and automated aspects serves to devalue AI’s traditional hollow models of the human. However, in a point of departure from Sengers’s neatly laid out system, Stelarc downplays the importance of physical embodiment, therefore straying from some of postmodern AI’s conceptions that Sengers discusses.[9]

His artistic program as a whole revolves around the “post human.” Stelarc’s Prothesthetic Head explains that “the realm of the post human may not be in the realm of bodies and machines, but rather in the realm of autonomous and intelligent images, viral entities sustained in electronic media and the web.”[10] The human and mechanical body both perform within a context that constantly degrades them, and are therefore insufficient in expressing and performing essential functions. Gravity and friction break down the physical mechanisms of organic life, whereas electronic images and interfaces are not constrained by such physical processes.

The Prosthetic Head functions on the premise that human interaction is generally automated and unconscious. Its automated responses to user input may give the illusion of meaningful human-computer interaction, but this illusion is shattered in moments of disjunction, repetition, and outright weirdness. According to Julie Clark “Stelarc alludes to our self-controlled and regulated internal system as well as behavioral aspects that we remain unaware of which allows us to operate effectively as conscious beings, directed to the external environment.”[11] Discomfort and peculiarity in the interaction with this expressive image reminds the user that this “intelligent” agent is maybe not so intelligent after all.

Sengers mentions that “[o]ne of the dreams of AI is the construction of autonomous agents, independent artificial beings.[…]Autonomous agents would be more than useful machinery, they would be independent subjects.”[12] Although Stelarc’s project falls short of this dream (and this in itself problematizes the Classical AI that Sengers criticizes),  it does provide an interesting commentary on agency and identity in the context of omnipresent technology. It can even extend this line of thinking, showing the potential not for “living” machines, but for machines that reflect the “living,” mind back onto us, making us conscious of our unconscious modes of informational formation and transfer.

  1. Marco Donnarumma, “Fractal Flesh–Alternate Anatomical Architectures: Interview with Stelarc.” http://econtact.ca/14_2/donnarumma_stelarc.html.
  2. Stelarc, “Prosthetic Head: Intelligence, Awareness and Agency.” http://www.neme.org/252/prosthetic-head.
  3. Stelarc, “Prosthetic Head.” http://stelarc.org/?catID=20241.
  4. Artificial Intelligence Foundation, “An Introduction to A.L.I.C.E., the Alicebot engine, and AIML.” http://www.alicebot.org/about.html.
  5. Stelarc, “Prosthetic Head: Intelligence, Awareness and Agency.” http://www.neme.org/252/prosthetic-head.
  6. Marcia Bates, “Fundamental forms of information, ” in Journal of the American Society for Information and Technology 57(8): 2006, http://www.gseis.ucla.edu/faculty/bates/articles/NatRep_info_11m_050514.html.
  7. Stelarc, “Prosthetic Head.” http://stelarc.org/?catID=20241.
  8. Phoebe Sengers, “Practices for a Machine Culture: A Case Study of Integrating Cultural Theory and Artificial Intelligence” Surfaces VIII: 1999, 20.
  9. Ibid., 18.
  10. “Stelarc’s Prosthetic Head on the Subject of the Post Human,” YouTube video. Posted by Pyewacket Kazyanenko, December 7, 2008. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nym8hfNI9Gg.
  11. Julie Clark, “Stelarc’s Prosthetic Head. ”http://www.ctheory.net/articles.aspx?id=491.
  12. Phoebe Sengers, “Practices for a Machine Culture: A Case Study of Integrating Cultural Theory and Artificial Intelligence” Surfaces VIII: 1999, 10.

The Producer/Consumer Dichotomy and Knowledge as Commodity

Isabel Rechberg and Jawad Syed’s paper “Ethical issues in knowledge management: conflict of knowledge ownership” highlights some important issues surrounding knowledge production and management within the corporate sphere. However, I wish they had expanded upon this topic further by asking what larger issues arise when we treat knowledge as a commodity? What are the potentials for violence in this system? Finally, I ask how approaching this issue from a library and information studies perspective can help to reframe the concepts of knowledge production, management, and consumption.

Rechberg and Syed’s paper emphasizes “the need for a moral contract of KM between organizations and individuals that is built on the ethical constructs of trust, fairness and justice, so that individuals are acknowledged as legitimate and foremost owners of knowledge, and are willing to participate in KM and enhance its effectiveness” (Rechberg and Syed, 2013). While I agree that it is important to protect the intellectual property of employees, I believe that the protection of the individual is paramount, and should not merely be a stepping-stone to a more streamlined knowledge production team for the company. It seems for Rechberg and Syed, the end goal is to provide a ‘safe space’ for knowledge production within the capitalist system in order to encourage “individuals to willingly participate in knowledge processes” (Rechberg and Syed, 2013). I would have loved to see Rechberg and Syed take their arguments one step further and discuss the ways that treating knowledge as a commodity alienates both producers and consumers, and is inherently detrimental to the knowledge production process. As the knowledge economy becomes further entrenched in the realm of Web-based production, the potential for exploitation is magnified. I look to Mechanical Turk as a prime example of this phenomenon.

Mechanical Turk, Amazon’s crowdsourcing marketplace, was established in 2005 with the goal of matching companies with individuals who bid on jobs that can only be completed by humans. Moshe Marvit’s article in The Nation, “How Crowdworkers Became the Ghosts in the Digital Machine”, cites tasks such as detecting biases in an article, recognizing irony, and reading text out of photographs (Marvit, 2014). While on the surface this digital marketplace seemed like a perfect platform for matching companies with willing employees, it has actually become something of an Internet sweatshop, creating an unregulated labor market that is novel even within Western capitalist history. As Marx states:

            Even if the system of working remains the same, the simultaneous employment of a large number of labourers brings about a total change in the material conditions of the labour process. Buildings in which many are at work…which serve, simultaneously or otherwise, the purpose of many labourers, are now consumed in common. (Marx, 1867).

The Internet as a whole, and Mechanical Turk specifically, is the 21st century version of the “buildings in which many are at work” that Marx speaks of, and a “total change in the material conditions of the labour process” has been the result. Given the fact that Mechanical Turk is centered on people performing tasks that computers cannot, I argue that this labor market is not just exploiting the labor of employees, but also their knowledge, both tacit and explicit. Mechanical Turk gives us a glimpse of a digital work environment centered on non-negotiable contracts, fierce competition, and free from minimum wage regulation, where individuals’ labor and knowledge are both exploited to frightening degrees. The question, then, is where do librarians fit into this violent new labor market? Is it possible to return a degree of agency to the knowledge production/consumption process?

Library and information professionals such as Christine Pawley have grappled with the complex relationship between production and consumption and have, in my opinion, crafted some solutions that are applicable to the Web-based knowledge market. Pawley’s “Information Literacy: A Contradictory Coupling” raises some important points regarding issues with the concept of information literacy as a whole, while also touching on the need to reframe the concepts of information production and consumption. Pawley discusses the need to develop “information literacy practices that situate all information users—not just scholars—at the center of processes of information production and recontextualization, thus hybridizing the identity of consumer-as-producer and producer-as-consumer” (Pawley, 2003). Pawley points to the need to reframe knowledge and information production/consumption not as dichotomous, but as one single, inextricably linked process. When we begin to recognize, as Pawley discusses, the idea of information as a process, not merely an item to be created by some and consumed by others, we can move information out of the realm of commodity. By participating in the both the information production and consumption processes, individuals are no longer subjected to the alienating effects of knowledge as commodity. As information and library professionals help to reframe this understanding of knowledge as an active process, individuals will be presented with the opportunity to escape the production/consumption dichotomy and the associated commodification of the “product”. It is in this way that I believe library and information studies can help to combat the negative aspects of knowledge production, management, and consumption in the corporate environment, and reintroduce a sense of agency to the process.

 

References

Marvit, Moshe. “How Crowdworkers Became the Ghosts in the Digital Machine.” The Nation. The Nation Mag., 5 Feb. 2014. Web. 23 Sept. 2015.

Marx, Karl. “Capital: An Analysis of Capitalist Production.” Ed. Julian Borchardt. Capital. Ed. Max Eastman. New York: Random House, 1959. 64-65. Print.

Pawley, Christine. “Information Literacy: A Contradictory Coupling.” The Library Quarterly: Information, Community, Policy 73.4 (2003): 422-448. Digital.

Rechberg, Isabel, and Jawad Syed. “Ethical issues in knowledge management: conflict of knowledge ownership.” Journal of Knowledge Management 17.6 (2013): 828-840. Digital.

Against the Queer Intervention: some thoughts on Drabinski and Berman

The problems with biases in Library of Congress subject headings have been examined for decades, and stir lively conversation whenever they come up. Emily Drabinski, in her essay “Queering the Catalog: queer theory and the politics of correction,” posits that many of these biases, as well as the hegemonic nature of the catalog itself could be “corrected” with what she calls “queer interventions” to the catalog. This would mean that a patron who discovers a problematic LOC subject heading (Drabinski uses the example of LGBTQ information being headed under “Deviant Sexualities”) would enter into a conversation with a librarian on staff, who would then explain to the patron the created nature of the catalog, while revealing that all knowledge organization systems are of course created by those with power.

Drabinski posits her queer intervention against the Library of Congress subject heading revisions and additions made popular by Sanford Berman. Berman, who began petitioning the LOC in the 1970s for additional and revised subject headings, is the most prominent figure in the “radical cataloging” movement. Drabinski argues that while such revisions are fine, they still work to maintain the hegemonic power structure of the catalog. The queer intervention, instead, would work to reveal and dismantle it. [1]

Several problems arise when we think of Drabinki’s queer intervention in practice. I want to point out two assumptions that I believe she operates under when she calls for librarians to perform queer interventions.  First have to assume that this library has a large enough staff to patron ratio to allow any given librarian to spend a large quantity of time in conversation with one patron, in order to explain the catalog’s history and problems. An over-stressed library staff may make both patrons and librarians uncomfortable broaching the subject of the catalog’s problems, as the queer intervention requires a long conversation, challenging historical assumptions of knowledge organization. It seems likely that at most public libraries, not enough resources and time are allocated to reference librarians so that just a few are expected to handle the needs of many patrons at a time. Both the librarian and patron in question would be unable to devote enough time to the conversation at hand. I think it’s also worth pointing out that public libraries, rather than private research or academic libraries, are the spaces where marginalized people are most likely to come into contact with the catalog; they’re also spaces where librarian resources are scarcest.

We should also ask ourselves about the identity and beliefs of the librarian in question performing the intervention. Of course, in order to perform a queer intervention on behalf of the catalog, the librarian that a marginalized youth approaches must believe in the necessity of the intervention itself–if he or she does indeed believe that LGBT topics should be cataloged under “Deviant Sexualities,” or information about Voodoo practices are rightfully found under the heading “Cults,” then obviously this person will not perform the intervention that Drabinski and other progressive librarians desire. The idea of an unchanged catalog maintained by librarians performing queer interventions requires all librarians in all areas of the country to be of one mind about progressive political issues; this seems wholly impossible to me.

Finally, we should examine the position of power that librarians themselves occupy within the queer intervention. While the catalog certainly represents codified power–and a faceless, non-human power at that, further mystifying it–librarianship, and the place behind the reference desk, is also a place of codified power. Librarians as a group are largely white, and the conventions of the profession necessitate that they at least present as middle-class, if not come from middle-class backgrounds in the first place. [2]

When performing the queer intervention, the librarian is already speaking across a gulf of power to a likely marginalized patron; in this relationship, a conversation about the catalog’s history and biases might ring at least slightly hallow, as the information is still largely one-sided and coming from a position of power. The act of the queer intervention also assumes that the patron has not contemplated the not-so-obscure idea that knowledge systems are in fact created by those with power; coming out of the mouth of a person with power, this is likely to sound condescending. [3]

I would like to posit that subject heading revisions made by Sanford Berman and others are a different type of queer intervention in a problematic catalog. While these revisions are perhaps not “queer” in the sense that they call into question or dismantle power structures, petitions to change LOC subject headings do indeed reveal the constructed nature of the catalog, especially if publicized. If it became clear to the public that subject headings exist, but are changeable by petition, then their “word-of-god” appearance would be reveled to be only human construction.  The library catalog exists to at least begin to help the patron in their research; I would like to think that interface with a progressive catalog during a powerful research process would be empowering to many.

Still, it takes a great deal of effort and time to change Library of Congress subject headings. As Berman himself pointed out, it wasn’t until 2006 that the heading “Vietnam Conflict” was changed to “Vietnam War;” he concluded that the change in such a useful heading lagging so far behind the reality of the war “should be a cause for embarrassment.” [4] The great deal of time that it takes to change these headings–sometimes decades–is likely to be extremely off-putting to a library patron who is used to public knowledge changing at the speed of Wikipedia.

Of course a conversation like the queer interventions that Drabinski advocates should always be welcome. I don’t feel comfortable advocating for them as the exclusive way to address a non-progressive catalog, as she does, however, as they rely on many factors outside of the progressive librarian’s control, and only enforce the power imbalance between patron and librarian. A catalog that is constantly under revision, in conjunction with open and honest dialogue with library patrons when possible, are the two complementary, rather than adversarial, ways of addressing the problem of bias in controlled vocabularies.


[1] Drabinski, Emily. “Queering the Catalog: queer theory and the politics of correction.” The Library Quarterly. Volume 83. Number 2 (April 2013): 94-111. Web Access.

[2] LIS 651-1 class discussion 9/17/15

[3] Galvan, Andrea. “Soliciting Performance, Hiding Bias: Whiteness and Librarianship.” In the Library with the Lead Pipe, 6/3/2015. Accessed on the web 9/29/15 <http://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2015/soliciting-performance-hiding-bias-whiteness-and-librarianship/>

[4] Berman, Sanford. “Introduction: Cataloging Reform, LC, and Me.” Radical Cataloging: Essays that the Front. Edited by K.R. Roberto. North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc, 2008. Accessed on the web 9/29/15 <https://books.google.com/books?id=xoX2BgAAQBAJ&pg=PA99&lpg=PA99&dq=queer+cataloging&source=bl&ots=36vb1XNFgs&sig=gzTBNkhGJ7UWAsN6w2heZPwa8aY&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0CCwQ6AEwAmoVChMIkMy3ufOeyAIVCzo-Ch35FgaK#v=onepage&q=queer%20cataloging&f=false>

Shh!!! Quiet Please! Social Exclusion Area!

Pop Quiz!

True or False

 1. 57% of NYC homeless shelter residents are NOT African American. True or False.

2. The number of homeless New Yorkers sleeping each night in municipal shelters is now 78% higher than it was ten years ago. True or False.

3. Most people who have no income will NOT move in to city shelters. True or False.

London

Adapted from www.theguardian.com

BROOKLYN- I sight the large stone building on my aimless walks along the street. Its vastness and architecture seem to pull me close as I pass by daily, so finally I decided to venture inside. I looked up and saw the words “Brooklyn Public Library” sprawled across the top of the wide revolving doors and immediately I felt the need to enter and satisfy my curiosity. I held my bags with all my worldly possessions tightly as I attempted to brush the wrinkles out of my crushed clothes.

I looked around and saw others going in and out as I followed even though apprehension and fear gripped me under the arms and took over momentarily. I knew I was out of place as I looked at the people around me; no one else had three big bags, wrinkled clothes and messy hair. I looked myself over one last time in the glass doors as I hurriedly created a messy updo hairstyle and tried to perfect my best false smile. I stepped inside and the familiar environment calmed my nerves – except for a few puzzled glances for no one focused on me intently. I made eye contact with the librarian sitting at the front desk. She too had a quizzical expression on her face as her gaze followed me to my seat.

I placed my belongings all around me and as I started to shuffle through them to keep up my inconspicuous act, she started walking my way. My heart weighed heavily on my chest and my head started swimming with possible excuses and explanations. From my peripheral view her seersucker two-piece suit and bone straight hair personified rigidity and unkindness. She stopped at my table; her pursed lips and folded arms intimidated me while her piercing eyes judged me from head to toe.

No one chooses to become socially excluded instead society is the pedant for placing people into certain categories and stereotypes. As humans we strive to “belong” and “fit in” to society’s’ many classes and structures. But what happens when one falls short of theses groups? Do they get regrouped? According to Cronin, in John Gehner’s article, “Libraries, Low-Income People and Social Exclusion” apparently you do, hence his inclusion of latch-key children into the same group as the poor, the low-income, the masturbators, the homeless and the porn watchers.

 A library is not a community masturbation center. A library is not a porn parlor. A library is not a refuge for the homeless. A library is not a place in which to defecate, fornicate or micturate. A library is not a bathing facility. A library is not a dumping ground for latch-key children. (Cronin, 2002, p.39)

Libraries exist to serve the public whether or not a person is homeless, jobless, poor or unattended. A library is not a place to generalize people. A library is not a place to breech people’s civil rights. A library is not a place to put up institutional barriers. A library is not a place to exercise social exclusion. A library is not a place to practice discrimination. And the list of what a library should not be can continue (positive or negative) for pages and pages but lets stop and think about how we can structure libraries to be more “inclusive” of everyone. Because it’s when we start to exclude people that they become offensive and so do their actions.

Gehner attempts to suggest how libraries can improve their services to reduce those persons who are considered being the socially excluded. He points out that those who are considered ‘poor’ very often carry with them their belongings wherever they go, for example, to the library. At the same time, challenges and opportunities for these poor people differ from ‘state to state, from urban to metropolitan to rural’ and that is why every librarian should use their local knowledge to imitate meaningful changes. (See abstract above)

In his article, John Gehner proposed five actions for engaging low-income people. While I agree with all five points only two will be discussed further.

Action 2: Focus on the causes of social exclusion, not just symptoms.

In other words, “What is the root cause of this condition?” Gehner cites Bonnie Lewis who posits, “social exclusion is not simply a result of ‘bad luck’ or personal inadequacies, but rather of flaws in the system that create disadvantages for certain segments of the population….” (p. 42) Right now libraries are facing limited or diminishing funding so fees and fines represent alternative revenue. This places a burden on librarians and users, so much so that low-income users are subtly denied library access. Fees and fines signify for low-income, jobless and homeless patrons that they will never get the opportunity to overcome their situations since they struggle everyday to survive.

Action 3: Remove barriers that alienate socially excluded groups.

‘Breaking barriers’ describes a variety of factors that intimidate, alienate and otherwise discourage socially excluded segments of the community. They are subtle and insidious, and are ingrained in library culture.” (p. 43) This shows that teens find that libraries are too restrictive while immigrants and refugees confront an: ‘institutional culture….’ E.g. they cannot visit and socialize to which they have been accustomed. Gehner states that how we interact one-on-one with new patrons can make a profound difference. For example, “ do you offer a welcoming orientation or a bureaucratic exchange?” I want to think that, most libraries do not always foster a welcoming atmosphere for patrons. For individuals who would normally visit the library it is sometimes hard to get the librarians attention. Therefore when less fortunate individuals enter the library’s atmosphere tends to overwhelm them.

Engaging low-income people, jobless individuals and the homeless into the library structure is achievable following Gehner’s five proposed actions along with a librarians’ willingness to accommodate institutional changes.

References

Brooklyn Public Library. (2015), Grand Army Plaza. 10 Grand Army Plaza, Brooklyn, NY 11238.

 

Coalition for the Homeless. (2015), The Catastrophe of Homelessness. Retrieved from http://www.coalitionforthehomelsee.org

 

Gehner, J. (2010), Libraries, Low-Income People and Social Exclusion, Public Quarterly, 29:1, 39-47.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trace Information, Transcendence, and the Proliferation of Meaning

Marcia Bates’s treatment of trace information, in her Fundamental Forms of Information, seemed awfully cursory. While it fits as a necessary component within the overarching framework she establishes for information, she neglects this process of removal, compared to the ample thought given to the other aspects of her topic. But if we provide trace information further thought, it appears more significant than merely “the pattern of organization of the residue that is incidental to living processes or which remains after living processes are finished with it (Bates).”

Before we can truly comprehend the importance of trace information, we must briefly explore the foundations that Bates establishes for the entire scope of her system. In her paper, she defines information as patterns of organization, which then get encoded and embodied through how living beings store, translate, and communicate information genetically, neuro-culturally, and exosomatically. Thus, Bates constructs a vision of information as a dynamic flow through complex and interweaving channels. Metaphorically, imagine this process as a tidal pool ecosystem, where inlets bring in substance that sustains and shapes life within its bounds. Without this inflow, life shall starve; however, life also creates waste, which the living then removes by the tide pool’s outflow.

For Bates, trace information represents the function of this outflow:

The flow here is of a different sort — the Biblical “dust to dust” – in which structures previously associated with life recede back into their natural, inert forms. Trace information is that information that is degrading from being represented information (encoded or embodied) into being natural information only (neither encoded or embodied) (Bates).

She likens trace information to the “residue” that once “represented” life: “no-longer-used wasps’ nest, waste heaps, carrion, disintegrating ancient scrolls, and so on (Bates).”

All these effects are necessary for the aforementioned reasons. Nevertheless, something seems amiss when juxtaposed with this picture of carrion, an exemplar she mentioned:

 

Pictured: Carrion – not waste, lions, hyenas, and vultures

 

The very name “trace information” implies that it is beholden to the source of its trace. In her example, the residual value of the fire leveled house resides in the building that once supported life: to expand this idea, death as a slow return to dust. With this, the husk of a wasp’s nest stands as a likely forgotten testament to its time in use. But what then explains all the life in the photograph? Certainly, the lions, hyenas, and vultures find much use in this dead elephant, and apparently not for its trace of origin.

Here, questions arise, what more does death contribute? Does decay allow information to transcend its original use into something greater? Can destruction encode more into life? To further investigate, let us leave the inhospitable systems at play in the savanna for something more digestible by humans.

Before I link this next piece, I shall provide some context. William Basinski created The Disintegration Loops through his process of conversion of old tape loops, a common medium for his compositions, from analog to digital. He realized that, because of the magnetic strips’ advanced age, this transfer considerably deteriorated the music represented on the medium itself. The strips literally fell apart as he recorded them. Because he worked with short loops of larger compositions, he could track the continual degradation. In his own words:

[I] looked at the CD recorder to make sure it was on — it was — so I just sat there, listening as this gorgeous melody decayed over a period of an hour in such a beautiful way. I was just stunned […] ‘Wow, something different is happening here. I don’t need counter melodies. This is its own thing (Basinski).

Clearly, the resultant music is trace information, once from the residue of playback, and twice from the fact that Basinski found the original loops as left over from recordings stored from many years ago. But in their decay, greater meaning emerges, unexpected from what their original inert forms suggest; the sound loops would diminish in value, if their consistency remained.

September 11th, 2001 occurred during Basinski’s production, and gravely, the music symbolizes the transpired events. The linked video communicates this; the loops serve as a diminishing echo as the sun sets on the abject horror of the day. “So grave and so beautiful and stately,” the original sound mirrors the World Trade Center in its life, which then fades, in time, against the world’s growing realization of the situation.

The Disintegration Loops enable us to grapple with this reality. Because this power, Basinski’s piece, adapted for orchestra, was featured at the Temple of Dendur for the tenth anniversary of September 11th. As Basinski accounts,  

[Y]ou know, no one wanted to go out that day, nobody wanted to remember an anniversary. You don’t celebrate this kind of thing, but it was a day of remembrance and several people told me how profoundly moved they were and how they felt that the whole energy had changed and somehow the resonance had lifted. Maybe, somehow, there had been a moment of healing in that silence (Basinski).

The death of a small segment of a forgotten piece of music in one man’s attic transcends into a universal expression about the transience of life. With this art, we can confront that which we do everything in our power to hide. In effect, we re-encode this trace information back into our lives, through the meaning we weave into the holes that open up in the tape.

In this case, as in many others, trace information yields a proliferation of meaning. When information starts to unbind from its original, rigid, patterns of organisation, a freedom emerges; and freedom begets new uses. The dead elephant becomes a community of consumption around which its participants activate their own patterns of organization. Therefore, trace information does not merely hold value as a residue of its source, but has latent powers in its decay for rebirth as something both novel and profoundly meaningful. Bates’ characterizes trace information justly; and now we recognize its potential impact and capabilities.

One more point of discussion, however: the practical lesson. By its own nature, the library is replete with trace information. As time progresses and thinkers, scientists, and authors propose and try fresh ideas and methods, old frameworks fall out of date. And, naturally, questions arise about the approach to this obsolescence. Should we think about old books merely in the historical context of their time, as a trace back into the minds and minutiae of their creation? Or does previously obsolete material contain yet dormant powers to re-inform? Certainly the former is obvious, the object of museums and exhibits since their inception. But, the latter, the ability to actively communicate with the past, also seems true, when we acknowledge the phoenix-like ability of trace information.

We see hints of this effect in this week’s reading of Rodger’s “New Theoretical Approaches for Human-Computer Interaction,” where Soviet Activity theory originally intended to explain “cultural practices […] in the development and historical context in which they occurred (Rodgers 103).” This lens has transcended the destruction of its initial use in context, where it now applies to contemporary studies of Human-Computer Interaction: its Soviet denotation decayed, to enable capitalist appropriation.

A final, more evident example occurred in ethical discourse, where Aristotelian virtue ethics fell out of favor during the enlightenment and resurged back into contemporary use in the 1950s (Anscombe). Today, it stands as a viable and compelling opponent to the prevailing utilitarian and deontological ethical viewpoints.

I recognize the semantic loads that some the concepts I mentioned carry. We require much further study into the true implications of trace information as it stand as part our epistemological horizon. Therein, however, lies my point. Perhaps we can now comprehend the substantial weight trace information carries, and therefore we can better explore its depths.


Works Cited

  • Anscombe, G. E. M. (1958). Modern Moral Philosophy. Philosophy 33 (124):1 – 19.
  • Bates, M. J. (2006). “Fundamental forms of information.” Journal of the American Society for Information and Technology 57(8): 1033-1045. http://www.gseis.ucla.edu/faculty/bates/articles/NatRep_info_11m_050514.html.
  • Basinski, William. “Divinity From Dust: The Healing Power Of ‘The Disintegration Loops'” Interview by Lars Gotrich. Npr Music. Npr, 15 Nov. 2012. Web. 27 Sept. 2015. <http://www.npr.org/sections/therecord/2012/11/12/164978574/divinity-from-dust-the-healing-power-of-the-disintegration-loops>.
  • Rogers, Yvonne (2004). New theoretical approaches for human-computer interaction. Annual Review of Information Science and Technology, 38(1), pp. 87–143.

Wanted: Library Patron Records — Dead or Alive!

L0014669 Allegory of death: skeleton, c.1600 Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://wellcomeimages.org Allegory of death: skeleton holding banderolle "Vigilate quia nescitis diem ...", anon., possibly Dutch or German Engraving circa 1600 Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons Attribution only licence CC BY 4.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Allegory of death: skeleton, c.1600
Credit: Wellcome Library, London

Recently, “digital life after death” has been a hot topic, especially in relation to social media accounts (Swallow, 2010). If you do not want to worry about your social media pages becoming memorial walls full of weepy birthday wishes, there are a wide variety of resources out there than can help. Some social media sites have even unveiled internal solutions, like Facebook’s “Legacy Contact,” which allows you to select a trusted individual to create your final post, manage friend requests, alter and archive photos, etc., without logging in as you or, having access to private messages (Linshi, 2015). This phenomenon led me to ponder policies related to the way that libraries handle personal records of patrons, after the inevitable happens. Considering all of the strict policies related to the privacy of the living, I assumed that I would find similar standards in place for the records of deceased information-seekers; however, when I explored this idea, I found that this privacy need has been largely overlooked within many library systems.

Currently, I work for a 4-branch-wide public library, which operates within a consortium of 37 participating libraries; amongst this large community, there is not 1 policy in place for deceased patron records. When I brought this up to our circulation department head, I was told that the problem simply had not come up, but I strongly disagree. In my 3 years as an employee in this system, 2 co-workers and 2 familiar patrons have passed away. All 4 of their borrower records are not only available, but active, and easily viewable by any employee who is working within the catalogue. 1 of the accounts even has a note to library staff, announcing the death of a co-worker. Furthermore, upon the passing of the 2nd deceased employee, our administration was contacted by a family member (via telephone, with no presentation of identification), asking for a copy of the employee’s ID, as he believed it to be a flattering photo of his late sister. Without hesitation, our director provided the photo. To me, these seem like questionable practices.

The Burley Public Library, in Idaho, reported similar occurrences: “’Over the years, we’ve had people request pictures of family members who have died, because the library happened to have the best picture of a family member,’ [Library Director, Julie Woodford] said, referring to pictures seen only by librarians in order to match the person checking an item out with the person who legally holds the library card.” BPL has also had patrons ask for the reading history of deceased family members, “to keep a family’s memories together” (Hunzeker, 2009). Interestingly, their reaction has been to explore the option of disclosing this information to those who ask for it. In 2009, their Board of Trustees was in discussion about a new policy that would freely release reading history to family members. No updates have been widely announced, to my knowledge. Presently, Las Positas College, in California, considers death an extenuating circumstance, which in itself, grants library employees permission to retrieve the full borrowing history of any patron. The policy states that employees may not request such lists for “idle curiosity, personal interest, or general monitoring,” but it also fails to elaborate on acceptable purposes (2015). It appears that, beyond a lack of policies, certain libraries are entertaining practices that would actually loosen privacy protection of deceased patron records.

Most libraries regularly purge records from their library management systems (including Burley Public Library, which mentioned that, while considering approval of the new policy, family members would still have to request reading histories prior to a systematic purge) (Hunzeker, 2009). The New York Public Library, which I frequent, has many transparent policies, when it comes to patron privacy. While there is no mention of how death may affect these policies, their deletion and purge processes are clearly stated. Similarly, at my current college, I was told that the issue of deceased patron records was irrelevant, as they regularly (at undefined intervals) purge their integrated library system records.

Although many libraries frequently dispose of their ILS records (other examples include Carlsbad Public Library and Paul Pratt Memorial Library), this does not represent the whole of information collected regarding patrons’ use of the library. At the public library where I am employed, we track every single time that a patron logs into a computer, we have research query forms, microfilm logs, Interlibrary Loan histories, program participation records, and so on. Of course, our computers also track internet activity, although I do not know to what extent that information is attached to individuals. The privacy of these records is protected at many levels (institutional, state, federal, etc), but in our case, those policies only protect the living. In response to Burley Public Library’s consideration of new privacy policies, Randy Stone, Burley’s City Attorney said, “People took the right of privacy far more seriously 25 years ago than they do now” (Hunzeker, 2009). This, to me, is laughable. As more aspects of our lives are prodded and tracked, for vast data collection, advanced by emerging technologies, privacy seems increasingly more important, and I do not personally understand the logic that releases these rights upon death; if the records live on, so must the policies that protect those who may be affected. I think that it is time that library policymakers take notice of this potentially unrealized need.

References

Carlsbad Public Library. (2015). Patron privacy & confidentiality policy. Retrieved from http://www.cityofcarlsbadnm.com/CPL-%20Patron%20Privacy%20&%20Confidentiality%20%20(2015).pdf

Hunzeker, D. (2009). A private matter?: Burley library to consider releasing readers’ reading history to family members. Magic Valley. Retrieved from http://magicvalley.com/news/local/minicassia/a-private-matter/article_b2bd01d7-93c1-50c8-8287-9c45b2864efb.html

Las Positas College. (2015). Library policy on confidentiality of library records. Retrieved from http://www.laspositascollege.edu/library/confident.php

Linshi, J. (2015). Here’s what happens to your Facebook account after you die. Time Magazine. Retrieved from http://time.com/3706807/facebook-death-legacy/

New York Public Library. (2009). Privacy policy. Retrieved from http://connect.nypl.org/site/PageServerpagename=privacypolicy&printer_friendly=1

Paul Pratt Memorial Library. (2006). Retention policy for Paul Pratt Memorial Library records. Retrieved from http://www.cohassetlibrary.org/policy_retention.html

PINES. (2013). Circulation policies and procedures manual. Retrieved from http://pines.georgialibraries.org/sites/default/files/files/PINES_Circulation_Policies_and_Procedures_Manual_v2013_08.pdf

Swallow, E. (2010). 7 resources for handling digital life after death. Mashable. Retrieved from http://mashable.com/2010/10/11/social-media-after-death/#uk3kkZ.mIgkF

Inescapable Biases and the Construction of Catalog Realities

Emily Drabinski’s article, “Queering the Catalog: Queer Theory and the Politics of Correction” discusses an important issue library professionals must face.   All attempts to create some type of globally relevant system of classification and organization have problems embedded within them. How can a library catalog ever be expected to be finite and representative all the various mindsets and ways of knowing that exist in the world or even in one cosmopolitan city? Language constantly develops, new ideas emerge, societies change, borders are redefined, concepts evolve, and policies are renegotiated.  Humans create categories in order to impose some kind of structure on the world so as not to feel lost in complete chaos.  Such structures may be imperfect illusions, but it does not seem that we humans have yet fathomed a better solution to finding our way through the labyrinthian archive known as existence.  Until we do, library and information professionals must deal with an ever-growing mass of information.  They must also endeavor to ensure that ways of finding and sorting through it are relevant to as many different people as possible.

Drabinski references the history of radical librarianship and notes that the biased nature of cataloging has been a debated issue in LIS professions since the late 1960s.  While radical catalogers have made progress in making changes to biased subject headings and class marks, Drabinski thinks that making these changes is basically like treating a symptom of an illness without addressing its cause.  She feels that critical catalogers miss an important point in their work when making corrections to the Library of Congress’ classification system: the problematic nature of cataloging itself.  She writes, “such corrections are always contingent and never final, shifting in response to discursive and political and social change…[they] reiterate an approach to classification and cataloging that elides contingency as a factor in determining what classification and cataloging decisions are imagined to be correct in any given context.”

Drabinski’s call for LIS professionals to “theorize the trouble with classification and cataloging in library knowledge systems [as] the root” of the problem is similar to demands critical theory scholars have made on academics to acknowledge the impact that socio-historical constructions, power structures, economics and politics have on supposedly objective research.  In their article, “Rethinking Critical Theory and Qualitative Research,” Kincheloe and McLaren discuss how practices in critical theory aim to make implicit inescapable biases more explicit in academic research.  By openly acknowledging and grappling with these biases as part of the research process, critical theorists aim to move towards a more balanced or democratic way of both conducting and representing research.  Both Drabinski’s and Kincheloe and McLaren’s articles draw attention to a tendency in society and in academia to cling to notions of objectivity or the so-called myth of neutrality even though one’s understanding and experience of the world is in constant flux and dependent on numerous changing factors.

So what can LIS professionals do to achieve their goal of making information accessible whilst understanding that the cataloging systems they must work with are irreparably flawed by their very nature?  Drabinski advocates what she considers to be a Queer intervention to this problem: leave contested headings or class marks in place to allow for critical public discussion and deconstruction of their meanings.   She believes that a rupture occurs when someone encounters an “obviously biased classification decision or subject heading” making it easy for library users to see the “constructed quality of library classification.”

While I can appreciate Drabinski’s desire to use biased cataloging practices as an impetus to spark discussions between library staff and critical patrons, I’m not convinced it will have the outcome she desires.  The rupture she speaks of is dependent upon a user already being of like mind about the “incorrectness” of the subject heading or class mark in question.  What may be an obvious bias to one user may be nothing remarkable to another.  Furthermore, it does not make sense to knowingly allow a biased structure to remain in place just to serve as a potential discussion point. People who are likely to experience such a rupture going through a library catalog already experience them everywhere in everyday life just trying to do ordinary things like finding a public restroom, buying “nude tone” bandages or make-up, finding a job, hailing a taxi, voting, getting married…and the list goes on.  They need not go to the library just to find one other reminder of how “the system” is up against them.  It seems to me that aiming to adopt progressive cataloging methods would have more of the desired impact. For example, radical cataloging practices could cause a rupture for those who would use subject headings like “sexual deviance” to organize books about homosexuality.  In my opinion, this is where the rupture Drabinski seeks ought to be taking place.

Towards the end of their article Kincheloe and McLaren introduce an ethnographic research method called “deconstructive ethnography.” Over the past few decades anthropologists have strived for reflexivity in their work, and deconstructive ethnography takes reflexivity even further. Kincheloe and McLaren write, “Whereas reflexive ethnography questions its own authority, deconstructive ethnography forfeits its authority.”  This approach is interesting to consider since many think the goal of research is to produce some kind of authoritative knowledge.

The concept of deconstructive ethnography is very interesting in the library context.  As Drabinski points out, library catalogs do provide an amazing potential to draw attention to the ways socio-political constructions create ideas of reality.  People seek things based off of what they think makes sense, using their own authoritative understanding of the world.  Librarians assign categories based on “authority records” and use “authority fields” to make catalog records.  Do these authorities recognize one another?  As libraries aim to provide equal access for all, it seems that they ought to adopt catalog and classifying practices that incorporate ways of describing and identifying that are in alignment with how those being classified define themselves. With new technology, there is no reason that catalogs could not be designed to provide a wide variety of access points in order to make items findable based on multiple perspectives of library users.  Would this be a sort of deconstructive cataloging?  Does there need to be an authoritative catalog?  While a permanent and universal system is an impossibility, a system that acknowledges its biases and accounts for the diversity of ways of knowing and accessing the world is not.

References:

  • Drabinksi, E. (2013), “Queering the catalog: queer theory and the politics of correction” The Library Quarterly: Information, Community, Policy 83(2): 94–111.
  • Kincheloe, J. and McLaren, P. (2002), “Rethinking Critical Theory and Qualitative Research” in Ethnography and Schools Qualitative Approaches to the Study of Education (Immigration and the Transnational Experience Series) Eds. Zou, Y and Truebe, E.  pp. 87-130