skip to main |
skip to sidebar
This week the ALA (and many libraries) are celebrating Banned Books Week. But as a recent Wall Street Journal editorial mentioned, "banning" is not the same as challenging, and it is challenging that the ALA seems to be condemning. And most challenges are not successful. The small number of challenges (and the even smaller number of successful ones) tells me that we have won this battle.
Why are we still devoting so much attention to this issue? We have limited resources, and the world has a limited attention span. Why not spend our time on a battle that we are still fighting?
At this year's Access meeting in Canada, author Cory Doctorow suggested librarians use what influence we have to promote rational copyright laws-- you know, the kind that protect the greater good of society (as copyright was originally intended), instead of using copyright to shore up old business models with increasingly draconian penalties.
The "orphan books" being fought over in the Google Book Settlement are mostly the result of continually extending copyright coverage beyond normal commercial viability. Libraries need to be making the case that publishers are not the only party at the table here-- someone has to stand up for the rights of society to it's own cultural legacy.
The old saying was that generals were always preparing to fight the last war over again, rather than adapting strategies and tactics to a changing world. We should not be guilty of the same mistake. The battle for librarians today is over laws that restrict access to information-- not through banning or burning, but through one-sided legislation.
Powered by ScribeFire.
LISNews reports that the University Libraries involved in the Google Books project have established a central repository for the 2 million digital books scanned thus far.
Called the Hathi Trust, and with lead participants the Universities of Michigan and Indiana, the repository will serve as a backup should Google go out of business, or lose interest in the project (as Microsoft did with its Live Books project). "Hathi" is the Hindi word for elephant, who are famously good at remembering things.
A large scale search feature is planned for the repository, as are a number of other intriguing features, including an API to allow partner libraries to integrate the collection into their local systems, access mechanisms for the disabled, the ability to publish virtual collections, the ability to add (or "ingest") non-Google content, and a public discovery interface.
As full-text search looks to replace the traditional library search methods over the next few years, it's great to have a non-corporate source for the search data. Congrats to the HathiTrust team!
Just saw the announcement that after digitizing 750,000 books, Microsoft is pulling the plug on Live Search Books and Live Search Academic, and it says it's leaving the field to libraries and publishers-- but doesn't mention a rather large competitor still in the game (Google).
Whether this is more about Microsoft's faltering Live efforts, or really shows that there's not enough money to be made here for private industry, is hard to say. I expect Google will answer this question for us over the next few years.
On my commute home last night I listened to an Educause podcast from Scott Kirsner's keynote at NERCOMP 2008 entitled "What Innovators Can Learn From Hollywood".
Since there was a lot of traffic, I had plenty of time to think about what he was saying-- basically how the many technical changes in the movie business have succeeded (when they have succeeded) in the face of stiff resistance from people who were comfortable with the established tools (indeed who were often geniuses in their use).
Advocates of new technologies usually underestimated how long change would take (Technicolor was introduced in 1917 and took decades to succeed in the market). On the other hand, sometimes even the imagination of technology boosters falls short. When The Jazz Singer" introduced the concept of talking pictures, it was thought of as a niche technology for musicals. Dramas, comedies, and other films worked fine as silent films-- a whole generation of actors and film makers had created an expressive and often beautiful body of work without muddying up the visual with sounds. Why would anyone need to add a soundtrack?
I'd never thought of it before, but the real revolutionary thing was not so much the invention of the capability of making talking pictures as it was that the market quickly decided it only wanted talking films. And in a year or two, that's all that was being produced.
Which leads me to consider the library business today. We're on the verge of an age of pervasive, free access to the digitized contents of the million books being processed by Google, the Open Content Alliance, and others. In this kind of world, how many libraries need to duplicate this access in print? Will electronic access be enough? Will print become the niche market? This "Million Books Problem" is getting a lot of attention in library circles today.
The key question is will this technology take decades to become the norm, or just a few years? I've been thinking we'd have a comfortable number of years to adapt to changing demands, but what if we don't?
In a recent article in Newsweek, Steven Levy writes about the BookSnap personal book digitizer (or ripper). It aims to be a consumer-ready product to allow people to digitize their collections of printed books. Make that rich people-- it comes with a $1600 price tag.
But it seems well thought out, with a cradle to rest the book in that minimizes pressure on the book's binding, as well as software that can snap the pictures automatically as the pages are turned. The end result can be output as a pdf for viewing in an ebook reader.
Levy doesn't quite see this first model as ready for prime time, and it is easy to see that the segment of the market who might be willing to buy a $1600 BookSnap over a $100 flatbed scanner would be vanishingly small, in spite of the added features and ease of use.
But I looked at this and saw a class of device that might someday replace the venerable library photocopier, were it suitably hardened to survive in the hand-to-hand combat of self-serve library machinery. Do that, and one more link in the research food chain can switch from analog to digital.
