Libraries are an important constituent element in a community’s identity. Librarians take seriously their responsibility to keep materials relevant and useful to their particular service populations. Libraries are service organizations. This is true no matter what type of library—public, academic, or special.
What portion of the community is served by a public library? Ideally that number should approach 100%. Outreach services provide the home bound with library materials. Schools have close relationships with public librarians so that assignments can be completed beyond the carefully husbanded resources of a school library. Best sellers are purchased in quantity so that library patrons will not need to wait long before they have a chance to read what’s “hot.” Videos and DVDs fly off the shelves. Patrons have already paid for these services through their taxes. What’s not to like?
Unfortunately, the average community serves less than a quarter of its population. Some of the non-library users are just not interested. Many more are uncomfortable in a library setting. Even those who regularly check out best sellers and movies may be unaware of other services available. I can’t estimate how many people told me that they had no idea the reference librarians would answer their questions (and for free). Others feel uncomfortable asking for help. They “feel stupid.”
No one should ever be made to “feel stupid” in a public library. No one should leave without getting what they came for, or advice on how to get it. When our library was testing the viability of having a roving reference feature each of us tried taking a laptop to the people using the library. I stationed myself at the top of the stairs and asked those who were leaving the building if they had found what they were looking for. It was amazing to learn how many had not.
When library patrons leave unsatisfied, the library has failed. The reasons behind that failure may be complex; part of the solution can be simple. Dump Dewey. There are two major classification systems used by libraries: the Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC) and the Library of Congress System (LC). The latter is used most often by universities because it is more enumerative than Dewey which is widely used in public and school libraries. Dewey has a long history in library classification and is currently in its 22nd version.
[The Dewey Decimal Classification system is a proprietary entity; DDC22 is currently owned by OCLC Online Computer Library Center, Inc.]
LC employs about 21 main subject headings; DDC has ten. After an initial subject heading like “P” for Language and Literature, LC becomes very complicated, placing fictional works in the same “P” category as literary and language materials. Most public libraries learned long ago that placement of fictional works by author and genre worked well for its users.
The issue for public libraries arises when classifying non-fiction. Dewey often tends to aggregate too many different subjects within one of its ten divisions, known as the hundreds (“100s”). A breakdown by the “10s” becomes the only way to sort out topics. For example: the 700s are designated for “the Arts.” It is used for architecture, landscape design, photography, games, art, fashion, music, dance, sports, movies and TV, interior design and other “arts.” Sports are in the 790s; baseball is at 796.357. It is extremely difficult to browse the “700s” when you don’t understand its nuances and you’re not sure exactly what you’re looking for! If you want on baseball injuries, you’re in the wrong section.
Dewey has been used in public libraries for decades. It has an internal consistency and logic that few fully appreciate. These features are often expressed in the replication of a number sequence or to the right of the decimal point. Decimal places are also assigned as a means to refine sub-sub-topics. For example: European History is classified in the 940s. Irish history is classified at 941.5. Travel to Europe falls in the 914s; travel to Ireland is 914.15; travel books about Dublin alone are at 914.1835. Many libraries classify biographies at 920 and 921. A science book about a physicist’s life in science might be classified with the DDC call number 530.92.
DDC has subtleties that are admirable. Too often, these subtleties create barriers for non-cognoscenti who are looking for a book. Health books can be found in the 610s, 362s, 646s, 100s, and even the 700s, depending on which aspect of health and medicine is emphasized. The library user wants a book, not a tour of the stacks!
Logic, consistency, and precision are highly valued by library catalogers who want to place materials in just the right spot. These qualities become ludicrous when overdone. Try searching for a book with a call number like 341.0097623941 Ab76. Believe me; this little old librarian lady with bifocals is going to have a hard time finding that book especially if it is on the bottom shelf! What of the casual library visitor?
[The Cutter letters and numbers that follow a call number like Ab76 usually refer to authors, but can refer to subjects and titles. Cutters reflect the holdings of a particular library—but we are not going there.]
Unfortunately the average library user does not visit their public library to admire the classification system. What they come for is to find something to read. Why do libraries have to make it so hard? Would Melville Dewey turn in his grave if libraries gave their users a break? Libraries need to take a page from the book store. KISS!*
Today’s information seeker is more accustomed to using keywords that are inclusive and straightforward. Surely subtlety can meld with simplicity to create a system both user-friendly and logical. Libraries should rethink classification and adapt organization of knowledge to the end user. The following example, which I’ll call the Direct Classification System, may not be the best solution but it’s a place to begin. New paradigms must be established to keep libraries relevant to the community’s needs.
First I would propose the creation of straightforward, commonsense keywords, not “official subject headings.” Primary keywords should take precedence over Dewey classification definitions. Keywords should be user-friendly and universally accessible to the public; inclusive without nit-picking. Sub-topic divisions—or secondary keywords—would reflect the topic’s most important aspects. More detailed classification using a modified Dewey could be used to reflect the cataloger’s art and logic within sub-divisions. Online catalogs would indicate placement by Primary and Secondary Keyword Areas before any number designations. This Direct Classification System might get the user to the target area faster.
Next, I would organize keyword areas broadly. Sub-divisions should intelligently incorporate the complete spectrum of materials that come under the commonsense main heading. If books deal with health put them all together. Mental illness and psychology/self help are currently in separate Dewey 100s sections. Books on family and children’s health are in the “domestic science” section but childhood diseases and autism are in “medical sciences” although both fall into the “600s” designated for “Technology.” Additionally, many libraries remain ambivalent about Audio/Visual materials. These need to be located on the same shelf as books that deal with the same topic. Why not place exercise DVDs next to the exercise books?
Finally keep the end user in mind at all times. Be flexible and open ended. Signage must be attractive, clear, and plentiful. Sections should be situated according to some recognizable plan, most commonly alphabetically, or a combination of alphabetical and related topics. If the user does not want to use the online catalog, the logic of this classification system will lead the user directly to the correct area and its sub-divisions. A simple and attractive explanation of each section and its sub-sections can be placed on the stack ends.
Direct Classification reflects a 21st century mind set that utilizes familiar keyword retrieval terms and graphics. As an example I will use Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, Sixteenth Edition. Using the Library of Congress system it will be located at PN 6081. B27 (date), just before all the fiction in the “PRs.” Most public libraries will place it at 808.882 Bar. There are a lot of 808s. A “Dewey Free Zone” public library using the Direct Classification System would place it in “Writer’s Resources” (with nice graphic), followed by alphabetic subdivisions like “Grammar,” “Publishers,” and “Quotations.”
Which would you prefer?
*Keep It Simple,Stupid—in this case it’s the complex library classification system that qualifies most ironically as “stupid.”
Friday, April 18, 2008
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
A Midwesterner Ponders Change
I’ve lived in the Midwest all my life. Midwesterners are hard-working, no-nonsense, and sensible people. We generally act only after careful deliberation, eschewing the flashy and trendy. We have deep roots. When I am faced with the possibility of relocating to southern California, my deliberations must proceed slowly in order to evaluate the consequences of that move. I’m no stranger to southern California. Long before part of our family moved there we found it a good place to visit. We have just returned from an extended visit. The question I must consider now is whether or not I want to live there.
Hands down, southern California has great weather—boring, but great. Most Midwesterners think it is uniformly warm, but it is not. Near the ocean, temperatures range between the 60s and low 70s during the day. Evenings require a light sweater. The water is very cool. Surfer movies lead one to assume a skimpy bathing suit and surfboard are all you need for the sport. Real life surfers wear wet suits to keep warm. (Incidentally, the Midwesterner wants to know when these surfers work and go to school.)
The desert—and southern California really is desert—can be very hot. Rainfall is quite modest. The green of late winter too quickly becomes brown and sere. There are deciduous trees, but the stunning colors of the upper Midwest never appear. Palm trees are messy and ugly. The flowers of California are multitudinous and magnificent. Californians just take their nice weather for granted; no Midwesterner would. I’m sure I would miss the variety and persistence of green trees and fields that is our reward for enduring winter.
Although the Great Madrid fault that produced the largest magnitude earthquake in the continental U. S. is located in the Midwest, it is generally benign. In California the threat of severe earthquake is taken for granted in much the same way as the nice weather. Personally, I prefer solid, un-shifting ground beneath my feet.
Other cataclysms Californians expect include wild fires. These are a serious, recurring, and potentially expensive threat. Dangerous winds from the desert feed the fires. In a few hours all that you posses can be destroyed. Life is precarious and one must be prepared to evacuate homes on very short notice. In the Midwest the most persistent threats are tornado and flood. These are every bit as destructive as wild fires and earthquake. Neither the west coast nor the Midwest has an advantage in this area.
What are some of the now and future problems each area needs to address? In southern California water and fuel are critical natural resources to consider. Southern California is vastly overbuilt. Drought conditions along the Colorado River and in the Southwest will require the rationing of water in southern California very soon. Water rights will take a commanding position as scarcity and agribusiness tighten the clamps on southern California’s water supply. Californians seem to be in a state of denial about a looming water crisis. It is real and needs to be addressed. Resolutions will be very costly.
Californians love their automobiles. Distance is measured in minutes, not miles. Californians spend a lot of time in their cars. Freeways are super sized and almost always at capacity. (Some of the nastiest drivers I’ve ever seen drive on those roads.) Gasoline prices were running about $3.65 as a minimum at Easter. Smog persists in the valleys despite emission regulations that are the toughest in the country. One will see some alternate fuel cars and many bio-fuel buses. One cannot fail to notice a plethora of very expensive cars that most Midwesterners would only view in a film. These status symbol cars require expensive fuels. Just how much will the Californian be willing to pay? The conspicuous consumption of their automobiles belies their vocal “save the planet” mantra. There is a disingenuous attitude most Midwesterners would spot a mile off, but that Californians fail to acknowledge.
The Midwest is not without its problems. There persists the feeling that the middle of America has past its heyday. Our population is aging; youngsters seek more exciting venues. Midwesterners have experienced a loss of manufacturing jobs, jobs that will never return. Transportation infrastructure desperately needs attention. Highways are insufficient; bridges and roads in disrepair. Travelers are advised to avoid Chicago’s O’Hare airport. Its problems are far beyond the need for new runways.
There emerges an undercurrent of sentiment that the Midwest is peripheral in today’s economy and culture. We have been passed over; we’re out of the loop. New Year’s Eve TV celebration coverage views its major cities as irrelevant. We are part of the rust belt and suffer psychologically from the loss of manufacturing, and meaning.
I am, of course, still skirting the real issues involved in a decision to move from my lifelong Midwestern home. Can I become a Californian? My views on southern California are entirely personal, idiosyncratic, and possibly unfair. However my perception of the southern California persona is critical to the decision making process. How much is vincible ignorance? Am I too old to change these opinions? Do I want to change them? Should I want to change them?
How do I perceive the average Californian? There is a superficiality I find discomforting. One of the first things I noticed is reinforced by watching the ads on TV. Image is all. Californians are conspicuous consumers. They are lean, and intolerant. There is nothing about the image that can’t be improved with a nip & tuck, a lift, a peel, fancy car, expensive—read, overpriced—home. TV ads show a populous obsessed with image. (One might expect that every Californian is just waiting to be discovered at the local Starbucks.) The appearance of prosperity and success passes for the real thing, but not all live the good life as you soon understand by perusing the re-sale and consignment stores that proliferate on the Pacific Coast Highway.
A Midwesterner’s expectations are more modest. Many of us may care more about the appearance of our lawns than our physiques. Maybe we’re genetically incapable of the hedonism of the southern Californian. Everything in California seems fast and shiny new. Cutting edge technology, bio-tech, impressive corporate headquarters abound. At the back of the Midwestern mind-set, is the fear that these, too, will pass away. The young may well embrace the edginess, but older Midwesterners proceed with caution. Somehow I can’t get past a discomforting sense that this “chic, tomorrow, and global” milieu might really be part of Disneyland. Something about California whispers ephemera.
Before I make the decision to uproot my life, these perceptions must be resolved through the lens of objectivity. It may be that it is too late for me to change so radically. There are private, family reasons in favor of such a move that I have not addressed herein. However I feel that it is important to determine whether or not I want to become a southern Californian apart from those reasons. How do I weigh family influences against personal prejudice? If family reasons for re-location ultimately prove transitory I might find myself stuck in a place I hate, financially poorer, and spiritually bereft. Resolution will take some time.
Hands down, southern California has great weather—boring, but great. Most Midwesterners think it is uniformly warm, but it is not. Near the ocean, temperatures range between the 60s and low 70s during the day. Evenings require a light sweater. The water is very cool. Surfer movies lead one to assume a skimpy bathing suit and surfboard are all you need for the sport. Real life surfers wear wet suits to keep warm. (Incidentally, the Midwesterner wants to know when these surfers work and go to school.)
The desert—and southern California really is desert—can be very hot. Rainfall is quite modest. The green of late winter too quickly becomes brown and sere. There are deciduous trees, but the stunning colors of the upper Midwest never appear. Palm trees are messy and ugly. The flowers of California are multitudinous and magnificent. Californians just take their nice weather for granted; no Midwesterner would. I’m sure I would miss the variety and persistence of green trees and fields that is our reward for enduring winter.
Although the Great Madrid fault that produced the largest magnitude earthquake in the continental U. S. is located in the Midwest, it is generally benign. In California the threat of severe earthquake is taken for granted in much the same way as the nice weather. Personally, I prefer solid, un-shifting ground beneath my feet.
Other cataclysms Californians expect include wild fires. These are a serious, recurring, and potentially expensive threat. Dangerous winds from the desert feed the fires. In a few hours all that you posses can be destroyed. Life is precarious and one must be prepared to evacuate homes on very short notice. In the Midwest the most persistent threats are tornado and flood. These are every bit as destructive as wild fires and earthquake. Neither the west coast nor the Midwest has an advantage in this area.
What are some of the now and future problems each area needs to address? In southern California water and fuel are critical natural resources to consider. Southern California is vastly overbuilt. Drought conditions along the Colorado River and in the Southwest will require the rationing of water in southern California very soon. Water rights will take a commanding position as scarcity and agribusiness tighten the clamps on southern California’s water supply. Californians seem to be in a state of denial about a looming water crisis. It is real and needs to be addressed. Resolutions will be very costly.
Californians love their automobiles. Distance is measured in minutes, not miles. Californians spend a lot of time in their cars. Freeways are super sized and almost always at capacity. (Some of the nastiest drivers I’ve ever seen drive on those roads.) Gasoline prices were running about $3.65 as a minimum at Easter. Smog persists in the valleys despite emission regulations that are the toughest in the country. One will see some alternate fuel cars and many bio-fuel buses. One cannot fail to notice a plethora of very expensive cars that most Midwesterners would only view in a film. These status symbol cars require expensive fuels. Just how much will the Californian be willing to pay? The conspicuous consumption of their automobiles belies their vocal “save the planet” mantra. There is a disingenuous attitude most Midwesterners would spot a mile off, but that Californians fail to acknowledge.
The Midwest is not without its problems. There persists the feeling that the middle of America has past its heyday. Our population is aging; youngsters seek more exciting venues. Midwesterners have experienced a loss of manufacturing jobs, jobs that will never return. Transportation infrastructure desperately needs attention. Highways are insufficient; bridges and roads in disrepair. Travelers are advised to avoid Chicago’s O’Hare airport. Its problems are far beyond the need for new runways.
There emerges an undercurrent of sentiment that the Midwest is peripheral in today’s economy and culture. We have been passed over; we’re out of the loop. New Year’s Eve TV celebration coverage views its major cities as irrelevant. We are part of the rust belt and suffer psychologically from the loss of manufacturing, and meaning.
I am, of course, still skirting the real issues involved in a decision to move from my lifelong Midwestern home. Can I become a Californian? My views on southern California are entirely personal, idiosyncratic, and possibly unfair. However my perception of the southern California persona is critical to the decision making process. How much is vincible ignorance? Am I too old to change these opinions? Do I want to change them? Should I want to change them?
How do I perceive the average Californian? There is a superficiality I find discomforting. One of the first things I noticed is reinforced by watching the ads on TV. Image is all. Californians are conspicuous consumers. They are lean, and intolerant. There is nothing about the image that can’t be improved with a nip & tuck, a lift, a peel, fancy car, expensive—read, overpriced—home. TV ads show a populous obsessed with image. (One might expect that every Californian is just waiting to be discovered at the local Starbucks.) The appearance of prosperity and success passes for the real thing, but not all live the good life as you soon understand by perusing the re-sale and consignment stores that proliferate on the Pacific Coast Highway.
A Midwesterner’s expectations are more modest. Many of us may care more about the appearance of our lawns than our physiques. Maybe we’re genetically incapable of the hedonism of the southern Californian. Everything in California seems fast and shiny new. Cutting edge technology, bio-tech, impressive corporate headquarters abound. At the back of the Midwestern mind-set, is the fear that these, too, will pass away. The young may well embrace the edginess, but older Midwesterners proceed with caution. Somehow I can’t get past a discomforting sense that this “chic, tomorrow, and global” milieu might really be part of Disneyland. Something about California whispers ephemera.
Before I make the decision to uproot my life, these perceptions must be resolved through the lens of objectivity. It may be that it is too late for me to change so radically. There are private, family reasons in favor of such a move that I have not addressed herein. However I feel that it is important to determine whether or not I want to become a southern Californian apart from those reasons. How do I weigh family influences against personal prejudice? If family reasons for re-location ultimately prove transitory I might find myself stuck in a place I hate, financially poorer, and spiritually bereft. Resolution will take some time.
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