Abstract
What is immediately striking about The Atlas of New Librarianship before you even open it are the production values. It is a beautifully produced work, reminiscent in size of a coffee table book, and with colour plates throughout. The bulkiness means this is not a book that would be kept in your briefcase or bag every day to pull out, but that is not the point of it. The metaphor is navigation, and the choice of the atlas as a way of navigating the future of the profession is clever and tempts the reader on the journey.
Lankes’ aim with the book is an ambitious one. He states in the early sections that it is about nothing less than trying to define the field of librarianship for the future. He emphasizes that the nobility of the library profession is about what we do in our jobs, not about specific collections, or buildings, or history, but in how our interactions with people help them in their daily lives: ‘The Atlas is about reaffirming the roots of librarianship not in buildings and collections, but in knowledge, community, and advancing the human condition (not human documents)’ (p. 3).
The discussions in the book centre on the map that makes up the atlas. It is structured in three components: the map, threads and agreement supplements. Utilizing a coursework analogy, Lankes describes the map as a syllabus, the threads as lectures and the agreement supplements as accompanying readings and discussions. Once the reader familiarizes him/herself with this structure, the atlas can then be navigated. There is simply not the space in this review to cover every topic addressed in the work, therefore I will focus on highlighting a couple to give an idea of how the atlas works.
At the root of the map is the mission of librarians, which Lankes argues is to improve society through facilitating knowledge creation in their communities. Within the map this starting point leads to sub-nodes, beginning with the ‘importance of a worldview’ which in Lankes’ opinion has become too fixated on artefacts. The strong opinion is often found within the book, but Lankes justifies each and every one in a compelling narrative, citing up-to-date examples to make his points. He persuasively argues that the right worldview has defined many of the successful modern information companies, such as Wikipedia, and seen off their rivals, such as Wikpedia. He moves on to argue, correctly in my opinion, that librarianship lacks theory over and above mere functions, and that this is a problem for us. For his atlas he centres on theories related to conversation and learning rather than pre-existing library theories, justifying this by arguing that they fit well into both the historical and contemporaneous aspects of librarianship.
Another node I was impressed with was ‘importance of action and activism’. As an arguably passive profession, this is one area we are often charged with being weak in, and it is reassuring to see it take a central place in Lankes’ vision. Action and activism is built around the core mission the profession has to improve society, to not ‘simply do whatever the community wants but to ensure that our actions are for the betterment of the whole’ (p. 117). As he also rightly suggests, ‘values without deeds and action are nothing more than posturing’ (p. 117). This absorbing section of the book discusses issues of bias, social justice and policy, and provides an excellent grounding in professional values.
Being a faculty member teaching a Masters course, I was also especially interested in how Lankes defined core skills for the profession. As he wisely observes, ‘values endure, whereas skills come and go’ (p. 137). He continues that while we should fight for our values, we should see skills as a contemporaneous feature of the profession, ‘as a means to an end’ (p. 137) – again, a rather radical argument, but persuasive nonetheless. What matters to Lankes is our worldview, not necessarily our function, in other words why we do things, and the impact those things have on the people we serve. The functions performed in reaching this point are arguably irrelevant. To illustrate this, I would point out Lankes’ discussions around information organization, which he argues developed from an ‘artifact-centric, information scarce world’ (p. 143). This is not the modern world we now live in, and Lankes suggests the profession needs to radically change to keep up. For instance, in terms of integrated library systems he posits that we are often too keen on cosmetic changes and tweaks, when instead we need to rip it up and ‘start from scratch’ (p. 145) – controversial, and an opinion that many in the profession may disagree with, but characteristic of the work and its polemic style.
The other sub-nodes are ‘knowledge is created through conversation’, ‘pressure for participation’, and ‘means of facilitation’. How all of these concepts fit together is graphically illustrated by a free foldout map at the back of the book which, if the reader becomes confused while reading, can quickly visualize all of the concepts and where they interlink.
Overall then, this is a book that is highly recommended. The depth of coverage, the sheer ambition shown in the concept itself, and the articulation of the entire breadth of librarianship can only be admired. It was a genuine pleasure to delve into this ground-breaking work, and I will use it again and again. It is thoughtful, courageous, controversial, and is a credit to the author and the profession. Seek it out for your coffee table, either your own or your workplace’s!