I've generally steered clear of much of the debate surrounding Library 2.0. Nevertheless, the catalog work I was involved in at NCSU (somewhat over-hyped as a "2.0 catalog"...as though anything new in libraries must now carry the 2.0 moniker), resulted in several speaking invitations where the invitors assumed I could speak knowledgeably about Library 2.0.
So like a good librarian, I did some research. I read a lot of Tim O'Reilly. I read a lot of Lorcan writing about 2.0 and O-Reilly. I tried to put something together that juxtaposed basic 2.0 principles against the entire workflow of the library. I will admit that what came out was a tiny bit mocking of the 2.0 meme, but I nevertheless kept coming back to O'Reilly.
In April 2007, he gave an interview where he accused much of the 2.0 crowd of missing the point. I've been calling this the "It's the data, stupid" quote:
I think libraries should appreciate this sentiment. I know my colleagues at OCLC do. The conversations that I'm in are invigorating--look at what we can do with all these data! Things like WorldCat.org and Identities. Now the next logical step, and echoing O'Reilly, how do we give the best access to it? The Developers Network is taking shape, and intense internal discussions regarding use and transfer of OCLC-derived records is in full swing. Stay tuned.
I love that the access discussion is happening; and I'm somewhat dismayed about the confusion over 2.0 leading to new discussions of 3.0 and 4.0. Sheesh. Before 3.0 takes hold, I'll be focusing on the use of the data for more and better purposes.
So like a good librarian, I did some research. I read a lot of Tim O'Reilly. I read a lot of Lorcan writing about 2.0 and O-Reilly. I tried to put something together that juxtaposed basic 2.0 principles against the entire workflow of the library. I will admit that what came out was a tiny bit mocking of the 2.0 meme, but I nevertheless kept coming back to O'Reilly.
In April 2007, he gave an interview where he accused much of the 2.0 crowd of missing the point. I've been calling this the "It's the data, stupid" quote:
"[There is] a major theme of web 2.0 that people haven't yet tweaked to. It's really about data and who owns and controls, or gives the best access to, a class of data." (full context)
I think libraries should appreciate this sentiment. I know my colleagues at OCLC do. The conversations that I'm in are invigorating--look at what we can do with all these data! Things like WorldCat.org and Identities. Now the next logical step, and echoing O'Reilly, how do we give the best access to it? The Developers Network is taking shape, and intense internal discussions regarding use and transfer of OCLC-derived records is in full swing. Stay tuned.
I love that the access discussion is happening; and I'm somewhat dismayed about the confusion over 2.0 leading to new discussions of 3.0 and 4.0. Sheesh. Before 3.0 takes hold, I'll be focusing on the use of the data for more and better purposes.
I had the great honor to return to my library school alma mater last week to give 18th Annual Elizabeth Stone lecture at The Catholic University of America. It was an opportunity to talk about myself (which is always easy) and to talk about the future of libraries (which is always hard). I was a bit embarrassed to admit that it was my first time back to CUA, but I was suitably punished by the fact that they recorded the talk.
I was quite graciously received by the CUA faculty (which now only includes one member from my time there from 1994-1996), students, and fellow alumni. It was difficult to see firsthand that the Library and Information Science Library where I worked for two years had been dismantled in preparation for a new information commons space. A plant had taken the spot where my desk once stood...a desk that held the IBM 286 on which I created my very first website in early 1995.
I regret having taken so long to return, but the occasion of the lecture was a great way to come back. Elizabeth Stone was still hanging around as Dean Emerita in old Marist Hall when I was there. She seemed omnipresent, in fact, and she was one of the few faculty to actually use the library (which is probably why it got absorbed into the main library). I'll admit to not ever speaking very highly of my library education, but as I reflected on my time there and the faculty who taught me, I suddenly had a new perspective.
Each of them, including ones I never even had classes with, had some impact on my career and the way I think about librarianship. Dr. Hsieh Yee taught me to love cataloging (something I will blog about another time); J.W. Coffman (my advisor, who I learned passed away recently) taught me that the separation of theory and practice was not as wide as many perceive it; Barry Wheeler taught me to question all technological assumptions; Paul Koda taught me never to take myself or the profession too seriously.
I received kudos for the lecture, which included a lot of stuff I have said in other venues. But frankly, I am grateful to CUA for inviting me back because it made me reflect on the last decade plus in a way that I would not have otherwise.
I was quite graciously received by the CUA faculty (which now only includes one member from my time there from 1994-1996), students, and fellow alumni. It was difficult to see firsthand that the Library and Information Science Library where I worked for two years had been dismantled in preparation for a new information commons space. A plant had taken the spot where my desk once stood...a desk that held the IBM 286 on which I created my very first website in early 1995.
I regret having taken so long to return, but the occasion of the lecture was a great way to come back. Elizabeth Stone was still hanging around as Dean Emerita in old Marist Hall when I was there. She seemed omnipresent, in fact, and she was one of the few faculty to actually use the library (which is probably why it got absorbed into the main library). I'll admit to not ever speaking very highly of my library education, but as I reflected on my time there and the faculty who taught me, I suddenly had a new perspective.
Each of them, including ones I never even had classes with, had some impact on my career and the way I think about librarianship. Dr. Hsieh Yee taught me to love cataloging (something I will blog about another time); J.W. Coffman (my advisor, who I learned passed away recently) taught me that the separation of theory and practice was not as wide as many perceive it; Barry Wheeler taught me to question all technological assumptions; Paul Koda taught me never to take myself or the profession too seriously.
I received kudos for the lecture, which included a lot of stuff I have said in other venues. But frankly, I am grateful to CUA for inviting me back because it made me reflect on the last decade plus in a way that I would not have otherwise.
MetaBlog calls itself the blog of blogs, but since I am a librarian, I will refer to metablog as a blog about blogs. I've come across two new ones from colleagues whom I respect and admire and since they might not be known to the library world, I thought they were worth pointing out.
Abe Lederman, founder of Deep Web Technologies, has launched Federated Search Blog. Sol Lederman (Abe's brother, who has held various positions at DWT) will be doing most of the posting. This is the kind of blog that I wished had existed a couple of years ago when I was working on the NISO Metasearch Inititive. The blog also includes information on various vendors in the federated search space.
Daniel Tunkelang is chief scientist and co-founder of Endeca, a company with which I have obvious familiarity. Daniel has launched The Noisy Channel to "explore the implications of asserting that the main goal of information access is to optimize communication across the noisy channel of human-computer interaction." That is a noisy channel, isn't it?
Good luck, Abe, Sol, and Daniel, I look forward to reading and hope others do as well.
Abe Lederman, founder of Deep Web Technologies, has launched Federated Search Blog. Sol Lederman (Abe's brother, who has held various positions at DWT) will be doing most of the posting. This is the kind of blog that I wished had existed a couple of years ago when I was working on the NISO Metasearch Inititive. The blog also includes information on various vendors in the federated search space.
Daniel Tunkelang is chief scientist and co-founder of Endeca, a company with which I have obvious familiarity. Daniel has launched The Noisy Channel to "explore the implications of asserting that the main goal of information access is to optimize communication across the noisy channel of human-computer interaction." That is a noisy channel, isn't it?
Good luck, Abe, Sol, and Daniel, I look forward to reading and hope others do as well.
I'm in Minnesota this week for CNI. Though I proudly wear the "OCLC" label now, I'm actually here representing LITA as part of my vice presidential stint. OCLC is ably represented by my friends and colleagues--Marilee Proffitt, Mindy Pozenel, Constance Malpas, and Jim Michalko.
After a (finally) warm weekend in Columbus, I arrived to a snowy morning in Minneapolis. Someone told me that you can tell it's spring in Minnesota when the smaller lakes begin to thaw. It reminded me of an image that I encountered when I first got to OCLC. Outside my window is one of the large ponds that dot the OCLC campus in Dublin. Slightly frozen, I saw several members of Dublin's rather robust goose population crossing the thin ice covering the pond. Mind you, it wasn't quite comical--it was actually done with as much grace as a goose can muster in such an exercise. (I've actually encountered a scared goose--a long story involving college, alcohol, and the near imprisonment of my college roommate--I was but an innocent bystander).
Image care of eniko at wunderground.com
It dawned on me that these geese were not afraid because if the ice breaks, they can swim; and if the water is too cold, they can fly. Well, the metaphor for librarianship is almost too easy here. I would argue that sometimes fear of the cold water makes people forget they can fly.
Back to CNI...in the opening plenary, Daniel Atkins, recipient of the Paul Evan Peters Award, noted that he viewed tenure as an obligation to take chances--an interesting, if not somewhat rare belief. But he also noticed (comically) that it took 20 years for the overhead projector to make it from the bowling alley to the classroom.
What chances are libraries going to take in the next five years? Will it be migrating away from a telnet-based ILS module to a ten-year-old windows or web client? Will it be using open source applications? Is that the thinnest ice on which we are willing to venture?
I say take some chances. Don't worry if the ice breaks--you can always swim. Don't worry if the water's cold--maybe you can fly.
After a (finally) warm weekend in Columbus, I arrived to a snowy morning in Minneapolis. Someone told me that you can tell it's spring in Minnesota when the smaller lakes begin to thaw. It reminded me of an image that I encountered when I first got to OCLC. Outside my window is one of the large ponds that dot the OCLC campus in Dublin. Slightly frozen, I saw several members of Dublin's rather robust goose population crossing the thin ice covering the pond. Mind you, it wasn't quite comical--it was actually done with as much grace as a goose can muster in such an exercise. (I've actually encountered a scared goose--a long story involving college, alcohol, and the near imprisonment of my college roommate--I was but an innocent bystander).
Image care of eniko at wunderground.com It dawned on me that these geese were not afraid because if the ice breaks, they can swim; and if the water is too cold, they can fly. Well, the metaphor for librarianship is almost too easy here. I would argue that sometimes fear of the cold water makes people forget they can fly.
Back to CNI...in the opening plenary, Daniel Atkins, recipient of the Paul Evan Peters Award, noted that he viewed tenure as an obligation to take chances--an interesting, if not somewhat rare belief. But he also noticed (comically) that it took 20 years for the overhead projector to make it from the bowling alley to the classroom.
What chances are libraries going to take in the next five years? Will it be migrating away from a telnet-based ILS module to a ten-year-old windows or web client? Will it be using open source applications? Is that the thinnest ice on which we are willing to venture?
I say take some chances. Don't worry if the ice breaks--you can always swim. Don't worry if the water's cold--maybe you can fly.

