Dangerous Ideas & Killer Questions

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending "Dangerous Ideas & Killer Questions," the final session of the Maryland Five Quarters program, a statewide, collaborative staff development effort. As the only student taking part anywhere in the state, I found myself observing, more than taking part. While I did jump on a few questions when I simply couldn't bite my tongue any harder, I was so aghast at some of the things I was hearing that I was shocked speechless. Rather than a direct reflection on the day and the process, there was a deeper issue that I am compelled to address. 
 
I am earning a degree in Library and Information Science. Nothing makes me want to drop the "Library" from that title and run screaming from the whole institution of libraries more than an afternoon spent rehashing old ideas packaged as innovation in a room full of practicing librarians.

I'm beginning to think that libraries are doomed. Not, as many claim, by market forces and the rise of readily-accessible information on the Internet, but by inexorable librarians who are so busy clinging to the sinking ship that they can't see the lush islands just off the starboard bow. We can reach the archipelago--but only if we start swimming now. And the sharks are hungry.

Any conversation of ideas--"dangerous" or not--in which I've taken part since beginning my relationship with Library-land has had a chorus of people saying "We can't do that; we've never done it that way before." If even half of the energy and innovation used to rephrase and reuse that statement could be applied to invent new ways of doing in libraries, libraries would be wildly exceeding expectations. Instead, library workers are so attached to keeping their safe little jobs in their safe little communities that they're deliberately obstructing progress. When a truly dangerous idea comes up, they get scared and self-censor that idea into oblivion within moments.

Here's a thought:

Life is scary. Suck it up and ACT.

Librarians have done great things, incredibly brave things. They've educated their communities, they've led political change, they've harbored some TRULY dangerous ideas, and they've only grown stronger for it.

Libraries are dealing with problems everywhere, and it hardly seems a secret that while they may win an occasional battle, they aren't yet winning the war. With a truly dynamic change, I am convinced the tide will turn, and that is one of the primary reasons I've chosen to pursue librarianship.

I can already hear the responses--that I'm too young, that I don't know what I'm talking about, that once I get into the "real world" my enthusiasm will tarnish, that I should shut up around my "elders and betters" who have worked in libraries for decades, that I have no leg to stand on before I've earned my MSLIS.

My response to those people is that it's often the newcomers in a field that make breakthroughs, if for no better reason than we don't know what rules we're breaking.

To that end, I'm forced to wonder why "library innovation" sessions are always so closed. We shouldn't be hiding away in a bunker, but instead should be inviting comments from doctors, artists, engineers, academics, and (heaven forbid) the actual communities that our libraries serve! Assuming that "we know better," simply because we work in libraries or hold the degree, is more than incredibly elitist: it's also incredibly short-sighted.

Change is good. Talking about change without doing anything? Not so good.

Try again. Fail early and often, and try something else. Shorten the timeframe of evaluation, and get rid of dead wood to make way for new growth.

Barb Stripling for ALA President!

It's mid-April, and I'm sure that I'm not the only one in the #libraryschool world with piles of homework, final projects, and all of the little things that come with life outside of school. Still, this post needed to be written.

Along with all of the end-of-semester tasks, it's also time for the ALA elections. As a student member of ALA, I have the same right to determine the leadership of the organization that claims to represent my interests as any other member.

I intend to use it.

I'm voting for Barb Stripling. For the full-disclosure portion of our evening, it's important to note that I am a student at Syracuse University, and Dr. Stripling is on the faculty here.

Announcing my vote, though a nice touch of narcissism, isn't the purpose of this post. Explaining my logic, however, may help others with the same decision.

I'm voting for the person who makes a deliberate effort to reach out to library school students. Barb Stripling has done everything possible to be approachable, both here in Syracuse and around the country. I've watched her prepare for webconferences with ALA Student Chapters throughout the US, and I've seen her enthusiasm for student opinions. Barb genuinely cares about libraries, but she also cares about librarians, and as a future librarian I want her leading the charge to revitalize our libraries.

I'm voting for the librarian who is directly involved in Library & Information Science education. Barb stripling is actively engaged in the practice of teaching--more than that, she loves it. Her passion for educating us, the next generation of librarians, is obvious. Barb is infinitely patient, and I know I will become a better librarian on her watch. Her drive for teaching is also reflected in her commitment to conversations. As one of her students, I truly feel that Barb listens to me, that she considers my views, and that she can help me refine my thinking on the tough issues. I believe that ALA is most effective when ALA members can guide the organization, and so I want my president to listen to me, my fellow students, and all of our colleagues in the field.


I voted for Barb Stripling because she is the candidate who follows the style of librarianship I want to practice. She cares deeply about the conversations happening in libraries and out of them, and can lead ALA into the next generation of librarianship. As a future librarian, I know that with Barb at the helm, libraries will be places I want to work.

Library students, the decision is yours. Join me in voting Stripling for ALA President!

On Honors

While visiting my alma mater these past few days, I was asked to step into a class and speak briefly to some of the Franklin Pierce Honors Program students. Reflecting on that experience, I realized there was more to say, and surely there were more coherent ways to say it. Here's take two:

To the Students in the Franklin Pierce Honors Program,

Congratulations are in order--you've embarked on a challenging program, and by making that decision have altered the course of your education. Honors education at the undergraduate level is designed as a launchpad for impressive work, and also as a training ground for the people who will take leadership roles in society.

Dream Big. The Honors Program is one of many experiences at Pierce that can make you stand apart from the multitude. Each of you can leverage Honors education (and the concomitant feather-in-your-cap) into graduate school or jobs as you wish. Expect great things, and Honors will help you make them happen.

Collaborate. Though Honors may seem like a personal journey--especially if you choose to Honor-ize classes in your major instead of taking the core with Honors--never forget that you have a cohort. Speaking from personal experience, the other Honors students are a phenomenal asset to your education; take advantage of the opportunity to work with students outside of your field(s) of study, as they provide perspective that you can't find elsewhere. Also, faculty may make time for you because of your Honors designation. See what projects of theirs you can join, explore mutual interests with them, or even just stop by their offices--they may have ideas for you, so don't be shy.

Similarly, don't hesitate to get in touch with the Honors alums--we're a small-enough group, still, that finding virtually all of us is fairly easy. We're all happy to network with Honors Program students, and having been through it, we know what it means. If you need advice, or have a project you'd like to share, or want some support for the Honors Program or another proposal, reach out.

Work Publicly. Academe is not a vacuum. Find ways to share what you're working on, whether that's a blog, a newsletter, a website for the Honors Program (which has been sorely needed for years now), the Academic Showcase, or conference presentations. Start building your public face now, and you'll be well on your way to getting the support you need for future endeavors.

Lead. Franklin Pierce is to this day a grand environment to work in--it's possible to know all of the faculty and most of the students on sight. Honors students can easily position themselves to make a difference in this environment, and can see concrete changes happen. Be clear on what differences you want to see, and lead the way to make it happen. Talk to your administration, your faculty, your staff, and your fellow students--be vocal, and don't give up easily. The Honors Program can be an incubator for great ideas, so use it as one.

Finally, don't be afraid to take risks. Your education will be radically different from a non-Honors-Program degree, and you should take advantage of that. Explore classes that take you out of your comfort zone, design workshops and lectures you want to take, and (respectfully) fight for what you believe in. A former provost at Franklin Pierce once exhorted that, "Honors students should be able to write their own syllabi, for life!" and it's fantastic advice. Know where you're going, know who to ask for help along the way, and make the journey your own.

They Know What We Want Before We Do.

There's a fantastic New York Times article by Charles Duhigg out now, focusing on the intersection between data, marketing, the habits of shoppers, and the science of habit-forming. It's all over twitter today, with a great deal of focus on a relatively small portion of the article--namely, that Target is able to use statistics on shopping habits to determine when someone is pregnant, and even get a ballpark due date. I can understand why that might have been the section that was pulled out (after all, what could be a better tagline than TARGET KNOWS A BABY IS COMING BEFORE THE FAMILY DOES) but it's a relatively minor anecdote in the article (People tend to change habits during major life events; pregnancy, marriage, divorce, etc).

Here's what I think people should really be talking about:

• Humans are creatures of habit, just like all other living things.
• The habit cycle is predictable, and can be harnessed.

As an information scientist, I'm certainly drawn to the predictive aspects of big data and statistics. As a mind- and program-hacking student, however, I'm especially interested in the analysis of the "habit loop." It goes something like this:

The process within our brains that creates habits is a three-step loop. First, there is a cue, a trigger that tells your brain to go into automatic mode and which habit to use. Then there is the routine, which can be physical or mental or emotional. Finally, there is a reward, which helps your brain figure out if this particular loop is worth remembering for the future. Over time, this loop — cue, routine, reward; cue, routine, reward — becomes more and more automatic (Duhigg).

Duhigg goes on to say that as habits form, we become less conscious of them, making them harder to break. Still, it's possible, especially if you're familiar with the various cues and rewards in your life.

If not, start experimenting! Rewards are easier to pinpoint--just ask yourself "What am I getting out of this?" When you think you have an answer, try an alternate reward that would provide the same benefit. Cues, on the other hand, can be tricky, but tend to fall into a few major categories: Location (Where are you?), Time (When is it?), Emotional State (How do you feel?), Other People (Who's around?), or the 'immediately preceding action' (What did you just do?). If you see yourself starting your habit, ask those five questions, and you might gain some insight into your habit loops.

Science is cool - Go use it!

On Hats

Last week in IST613 (Planning, Marketing, and Assessing Library Activities), I was introduced to de Bono's "Six-Hats" system of collaboration and brainstorming. In a nutshell, each participant in a group "wears" a figurative hat. The hats are referred to by color, and each hat carries with it a role in the group:

White Hats--Responsible for bringing factual information to the table, white hats map out the pathways to required information.

Yellow Hats--Responsible for a deliberate approach to positive thinking, yellow hats strive to find the good points in each idea discussed.

Red Hats--Responsible for opinion-based thinking, red hats analyze ideas that may have no grounding in reality by a purely visceral approach.

Green Hats--Responsible for wild and crazy ideas, green hats take the creative angle in a discussion.

Black Hats--Responsible for constructive criticism, black hats focus on the bad points of any idea.

Blue Hats--The facilitators in a conversation, blue hats take the meta-conversation angle, serving as referees and making sure the other perspectives are balanced.

Any one of these roles can be a challenge, but I particularly want to focus attention on two of them. For me, good librarianship is about wearing the blue hat--certainly, we're encouraged to make our own decisions and contribute our own thoughts, but I see our position as being uniquely suited to facilitation. Good librarians bring resources and a multi-disciplinary background to bear on any problem, and have training to help disseminate ideas and solutions among disparate groups.

In tonight's exercise, however, I played the black hat of my group. I expected it to be easy--finding a negative position is often easier than backing up a positive one. However, it soon became astoundingly clear that if I was sniping at my teammates and tearing down our ideas, we wouldn't get anywhere as a group. From that realization, I reinterpreted the role of the black hat--though, certainly, black hats are meant to take the pessimistic side of a discussion, it's more about pointing out flaws as problems to solve. There's a distinct skill set involved in breaking problems into solvable chunks, and black hats - productive ones, anyway - need to focus their energy that way.

As more of a personal note, I tend toward blue-hat thinking and positioning within a group. I'm glad we explored this idea in class, because the other perspectives offered within the six-hats framework will likely prove useful, especially knowing that they might not be my instinct. (Also interesting--two of the other students in my project-group also identified with the blue-hat approach. I wonder to what extent we self-selected because of it?)

It's another concept to add to my toolkit. If only all of my classes had such concrete additions!

"Difference that Makes a Difference" [ID Part I]

This semester, I'm taking Information Design, a studio class led by the inimitable Jaime Snyder. As part of an experiment in radical information sharing, I'll be making my notes available publicly, in blog form. Please add your own thoughts to my synthesis of material in the comments.


Week One, 1/18 "Designing with Information"

We dove right in, exploring the possible definitions of information (something that will doubtless be a semester-long task). The mutability of useful information is best illustrated by this YouTube video, and it helps to show that one key definition of information is "difference that makes a difference" (Gregory Bateson, in Steps to an Ecology of Mind, 1972).

The class looks like it'll be quite an exploration. There aren't "right" answers, and the approach will vary from week to week as we look at different applications of information design. (Hint: Everyone designs their information. Yup. Everyone.) There is a class blog, which will start to shed some definite information on the course as posts accumulate there. I should warn you that the studio environment is something that can't translate easily to written notes, and seems to be the primary focus of the coursework. I'll do what I can to share that with you.

As an example of the studio work, we tackled a seemingly-basic problem:
Say you have a jar of jellybeans, in five colors. You want to pick out the blue ones. The problem has two facets--One, to isolate EVERY blue jellybean; Two, to isolate ONLY blue beans. We split into groups of five or six people, and thought of a few solutions, but the real illustration came during the debriefing. It turns out we'd just solved a classic problem in information retrieval--Precision vs. Recall. In essence, the need for fidelity (only blue jellybeans) and completeness (every blue jellybean) thread themselves throughout the information field, but in this particular example of information design, we found an easy, metaphorical way of approaching the problem, without the seemingly-overwhelming "Go build a search engine."

I get the feeling that most good information design will feel like that--in fact, one of the best quotes from David McCandless (Who gave this TED talk, another thing we watched in class) is that "Design is about solving problems, and providing elegant solutions." Elegance is something that's hard to find in poorly-designed information, but it's completely vital. Well-designed information experiences can convey concepts that would be otherwise hard to grasp, as in Charles & Ray Eames' classic Powers of Ten. Even though the video was made back in 1977, it's still one of the clearest examples of scientific orders of magnitude available.

Powers of Ten is noteworthy for another reason. Information changes, of course, and viewing Powers of Ten quickly led us to a discussion about the expansion of scientific knowledge since it was made. Though it's a digression, it's important to note that even "false" information can provide a window into the past. I'm reminded of an incident when I was working for the Boston Early Music Festival on L'Incoronazione di Poppea. The translator had been struggling with the word "Fiaccole," which in modern Italian simply means "torch"--not exactly the most evocative language. However, the breakthrough came when she found an Italian-English dictionary dating from the early 17th century, "little falling stars" being a significantly more elegant translation, and a fitting description of Poppea's eyes. Though it wouldn't be a correct translation of modern Italian, it was perfect for Monteverdi's use of the language in 1643.

Once again, it all comes down to "Difference that makes a Difference." The next few months should be fun--Keep an eye out here, and I'll keep posting each week.

What differences have made a difference in your information design and usage? Let us know in the comments.

Aaaand we're back!

Well now. I'm back in Syracuse, two-thirds done with my first week of classes at the iSchool. I know things will be busy, but I've every intention of keeping on with the blogging. Here's your roster:

I'm taking three classes: Database Administration Concepts & Database Management; Information Design; and Planning, Marketing, & Assessing Library Activities. They're all going to be a stretch, for various reasons (I don't have the tech background for DB-Admin/Mgmt; PMA is project-based, which is fairly new for me within non-science courses; and Info Design is going to be a mental stretch in awesome ways, I can already tell).

My writing will be appearing in four places. Here, of course, but also on the class blog for Information Design, on a weekly basis. Less often, but still on a regular schedule, look for my writing on Information Space, the official blog of the School of Information Studies here at Syr. Finally, I've just joined the team over at Hack Library School, an opportunity for which I'm incredibly excited.

Apparently, I'm starting to be real on the internet as well as in person. Last semester, I was one among a number of current iSchool LIS students who took part in interviews to show what New Librarians are doing. If you're curious, check us out!

Posts here, this semester, will mostly be personal reflections, notes on classes, commentary on pedagogy, and anything else that doesn't quite fit with other places. It'll be a journey--come with me! As always, you can also follow me on Twitter @HieAnon.