Make It New? A dh+lib Mini-Series — the ebook

I am pleased to present Make It New? A dh+lib Mini-Series the ebook. It is available for download in epub and pdf format.

This ebook is an experiment in publishing, demonstrating one way that openly-published works can be built upon and carried forward. It features the posts from Make It New? A dh+lib Mini-Series alongside the original Journal of Library Administration articles. Open access publishing allows us to invite our readers – all of them, regardless of their location relative to paywalls – to respond to the ideas presented in scholarly articles. Here, it has enabled us to repackage the articles and responses in a self-contained and more stable format for distribution. At this particular moment, where the work of publishers, libraries, and other like-minded institutions are overlapping in interesting ways, we need more experimental projects that explore the boundaries of what’s possible and what’s useful.

This work is a product of the collective effort of the authors and editors whose works are included– Barbara Rockenbach, Chris Alen Sula, Jennifer Vinopal, Monica McCormick, Miriam Posner, Bethany Nowviskie, Micah Vandegrift, Stewart Varner, Ben Vershbow, Sarah Potvin, Roxanne Shirazi, Devin Higgins, Kevin Butterfield, Trevor Muñoz, Nathaniel Gustafson-Sundell, Daniel Griffin, and Chella Vaidyanathan.

Special thanks go to Micah Vandegrift for his skillful negotiations with Taylor and Francis, which allowed the authors of the JLA articles to maintain copyright to their work. I am grateful to the JLA authors, all of whom have made peer-reviewed open access versions of their articles publicly available, for allowing us to include these works in this publication under a CC-BY-NC license. The authors of the dh+lib responses, all of which were published under Creative Commons licensing terms, were equally willing to participate in this experiment, and we thank them for making this possible. I particularly appreciate the help of Kevin Smith, Scholarly Communications Officer at Duke University, who helped elucidate the rights issues and claims embedded in this project.

Finally, I would be remiss not to give thanks to my dh+lib co-editors, Roxanne Shirazi and Sarah Potvin, whose consummate editorial work on the mini-series resulted in a delightfully thought-provoking set of work.

I hope you enjoy the works presented here. May you discover many answers, new questions, and find inspiration.

Make It New? A dh+lib Mini-Series

 

Introduction

We launched dh+lib with an eye towards creating community and facilitating the burgeoning conversation that was developing around the library and information professions and the digital humanities. Naturally, we took note when a special issue devoted entirely to libraries and DH was published by the Journal of Library Administration in January 2013. As a means to continue the conversation sparked by this excellent issue, dh+lib issued an open call for proposals for blog posts, virtual roundtables, or other formats responding to the issues raised in these seven articles.

What follows is a snapshot of how librarians are grappling with these concerns at a given moment. Each of the contributions presents one view from the multiplicity of approaches that make up the LIS and digital humanities communities. These posts oscillate between the practical and the theoretical, the radical and the pragmatic; they range from historicist to futurist, from sweeping to granular. Which is to say: they offer a variety of perspectives, much like the JLA articles that provided the original impetus for the series. As Barbara Rockenbach described the special issue: “This diversity of voices illustrates the varied landscape of DH in libraries and the great number of opportunities for supporting this emerging trend in scholarship.”

Despite the variety represented in this dh+lib mini-series, connections persist between the pieces and common threads emerge. All make some claim to the core functions of libraries as they explore where digital humanities methods and implementations fall along that spectrum, while questioning whether DH represents a paradigm shift for libraries or simply an extension of existing services. What is the context for DH in libraries? Should it be considered alongside initiatives such as eScience? Pursued with the support of library-based technologists or in inter- and intra-institutional partnership? Is it a space for disciplinary specializations to deepen or for cross-disciplinary efforts to branch? As the authors tackle these questions, recurring themes are revealed: DH as entrepreneurial v. DH as institutional enterprise, DH as disruptive v. DH as contiguous, libraries and librarians as partners or supporters, collaborators or service-providers. What is new, what is traditional, what is novel, what is constant.

Devin Higgins opens the issue by observing that librarians, faced with uncertainty around what constitutes DH, risk “complacency that stems from the realization that libraries are already doing, and have been doing for quite some time, a great many projects that are easily categorizable as the ‘digital humanities’; or … paralysis brought on by the sheer range of paths one could take to join the field.” He encourages us to embrace the uncertain boundaries and shifting definitions of the digital humanities as a means of furthering experimentation in libraries.

It is this openness that catches the eye of Kevin Butterfield. From his perspective as the University Librarian at the University of Richmond, “The timing is right for a meeting of the ways,” as both libraries and DH seek definition. Warding against the potential for professional timidity referenced in Micah Vandegrift and Stewart Varner’s JLA piece, Butterfield locates an expanded role: “The library must be both a resource for and active participant in the act of scholarly and artistic creation. This requires us to view research both as a process and an end result to be collected.”

This theme of librarians seeking out active and egalitarian participation in DH–previously voiced by Bethany Nowviskie, Miriam Posner, Michelle Dalmau, and Trevor Muñoz, among others–resonates in a new piece by Muñoz. In a historically-rich “provocation,” Muñoz lays out a counternarrative, dissembling what he identifies as a strawman rampant in library literature: that of “traditional library service.” Many authors, including those writing in the JLA special issue and this dh+lib mini-series, have framed library engagement with DH in contrast to “traditional service.” In a series of vignettes, Muñoz locates the historical fallacy at the heart of this framing, felling “the idea of ‘service’ in librarianship as stable or uniform” in an attempt “to improve the profession’s critical self understanding.”

Echoing the notion of DH as contiguous rather than disruptive–and so drawing on skillsets and experience likely already distributed across libraries–Nathaniel Gustafson-Sundell warns librarians not to “let the discussion of Big DH distract us from all of the littler things we can and should be doing right now as librarians” to engage with eResearch. In keeping with Higgins’s embrace of an open DH, Gustafson-Sundell is vigilant against the narrow focus DH seems to place on the humanities. He writes: “some DH methods are not exclusively applicable to the humanities, so some aspects of the discussion needn’t and probably shouldn’t be isolated to the humanities only.” From a library perspective, the focus on the humanities may be unnecessarily bounded, fencing out those in the sciences and social sciences facing analogous challenges and demonstrating related needs.

The constraints of tradition are present in Daniel Griffin’s references to the framework of faculty tenure and promotion, “rooted in a number of traditions that stand in almost direct opposition to the processes and products of digital humanities work.” His piece draws attention to an oft-referenced but little-explored need to position new DH work alongside persistent tenure and promotion expectations, to build “a shared awareness of what work needs to be done and how to best position that work for future benefit for yourself and the scholarly community.”

Chella Vaidyanathan rounds out the mini-series with practical steps aimed at humanities subject librarians interested in DH, building on the “necessary and relevant initiatives” to re-skill humanities librarians highlighted by Miriam Posner in her JLA piece. In addition to undertaking to learn new digital skills and seeking out collaborations across campus, librarians are advised to re-evaluate their current commitments, with the possibility of locating underutilized time “better spent in learning new skills to provide more specialized liaison services to faculty and students.” Vaidyanathan singles out the possibility of partnerships that incorporate special collections materials and the design of new DH courses around particular subject or collection expertise.

We hope you enjoy the six pieces that make up this dh+lib mini-series. Thank you to the authors for their contributions and their graciousness throughout the editorial process. Thank you to our dh+lib co-editor Zach Coble, who has handled big and small tasks related to this mini-series with trademark aplomb.

— Sarah Potvin and Roxanne Shirazi

 

Contents

“Openly Certain, Certainly Open,” by Devin Higgins

“The Digital Liberal Arts, Libraries, and Timidity,” by Kevin Butterfield

“In Service? A Further Provocation on Digital Humanities Research in Libraries,” by Trevor Muñoz

“On Remembering There Are Librarians in the Library,” by Nathaniel Gustafson-Sundell

“Evolving in the Face of Tradition,” by Daniel Griffin

“Three Steps for Humanities Subject Librarians Interested in DH,” by Chella Vaidyanathan

 

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On Remembering There Are Librarians in the Library

The 2013 Digital Humanities and Libraries special issue of the Journal of Library Administration largely focused on how libraries might adapt organizationally to the overall problem of Big Digital Humanities initiatives, exemplified by larger-scale projects requiring substantial librarian and staff hours over the longer term, primarily in the context of large research libraries. However, the Digital Humanities (DH) provide a cluster of challenges, many of which can be handled discretely and some of which can be handled fairly simply. After all, many of the challenges of DH have to do with selecting, implementing, developing, and/or supporting computer applications, not all of which need be supported at once for librarians to respond to the needs of digital humanists. There seems to be some risk in too narrowly focusing the discussion on Big DH. Some librarians, unfamiliar at all with DH, might get the impression that DH is too large or too complicated to be addressed without significant investment, or might feel discouraged from investigating DH further for the purpose of trying to understand how their own library services might evolve. In fact, some of the issues posed by DH do not require large-scale administrative intervention or significant investment at all.

[pullquote]Some of the issues posed by DH do not require large-scale administrative intervention or significant investment at all.[/pullquote]

In addition, some DH methods are not exclusively applicable to the humanities, so some aspects of the discussion needn’t and probably shouldn’t be isolated to the humanities only. Text analysis tools have as long a history in the social sciences as in the humanities, and there are numerous examples of text analysis applications in the physical sciences. An expansive discussion of the challenges of DH might lead librarians to think about how they can respond more actively as librarians to the evolving needs of scholars across the whole campus in search of exposure to and help with new tools. In the past several years, many libraries have responded to the needs of DH primarily within technical services departments, largely by focusing on organizational and administrative interventions to develop positions to support digital collections, repository and website development, and/or metadata services. Now is the time for reference and instruction librarians to be invited to join the conversation. Reference librarians might have the flexibility to respond as librarians, without the need for administrative intervention, in the course of offering services at the reference desk or through patron consultations to students from the whole campus (although, really, all kinds of librarians could respond to the challenges of DH directly in a variety of ways, depending on local organizational flexibility).

[pullquote]An expansive discussion of the challenges of DH might lead librarians to think about how they can respond more actively as librarians to the evolving needs of scholars from across the whole campus in search of exposure to and help with new tools.[/pullquote]

In my view, there is a real need for librarians to be talking with each other more directly about what they are doing (and can try to do) “on their own,” without depending on administrative intervention. I would be encouraged if that conversation could take place via dh+lib, or a listserv, or perhaps most practically via a small annual conference in which a sense of community could be fostered. An expanded conversation might empower librarians to experiment with and help students and faculty with some of the easiest tools (Voyant, Topic Modeling Tool, CATMA, brat, etc.), in much the same way they already experiment with and help students with platform functionality and discovery.

Structuring, Skills, and Advocacy around DH (Big and Little)

Micah Vandegrift and Stewart Varner’s article provides a nice overview of recent high-points in the literature of DH most relevant to academic libraries, as well as some excellent advice for librarians just hearing of DH for the first time (Vandegrift & Varner, 2013, pp. 73-74). On the one hand, this article is mindful of impacts on the whole library, pointing out that the various examples of the re-organization “of the institution 
 are ill-informed developments if the librarians, paraprofessionals, and support staff have not re-imagined themselves and their skill-sets.” But, on the other hand, this re-imagination is exemplified in the same paragraph by “the shift toward alternative appointments” (p. 74), which, in largely isolating the impact on the library to one librarian or department, would seem to limit the need for re-imagination by the whole library.

[pullquote]Such specialized appointments too often result in the further compartmentalization (or often literally, the further departmentalization) of the library.[/pullquote]

In my view, such alternative appointments can be very helpful for libraries, insofar as the appointed librarians act as teachers to the whole library, but it seems that such specialized appointments too often result in the further compartmentalization (or often literally, the further departmentalization) of the library. The risk of creating an alternative appointment, whether it is to address emerging technologies or DH, or even electronic resources, to name a few examples, is that some librarians might choose to ignore new developments in the field, thinking that the need for re-imagination and re-tooling has been covered, or is somebody else’s job. The challenge in the creation of such positions is to avoid establishing conditions which will lead to the isolation of the librarian. Instead, the specialized librarian should be expected to share burdens as well as opportunities with colleagues.

Miriam Posner makes a very good point that the library might lean “too hard on individual librarians” who have developed the skills to support DH (Posner, 2013, p. 44).  Her observation that “DH expertise is a specialized, crucial – and frankly, rare – skill” (Posner, 2013, p. 46) might be a bit too general, though. As the survey results summarized in ARL SPEC Kit 326, “Digital Humanities,” showed, library services to support DH projects run an extremely broad gamut, including: application of metadata, scanning and OCR, and selection of resources for digitization (Bryson, Posner, St. Pierre, & Varner, 2011, p. 31), none of which involves skills that are so very rare in libraries. Other kinds of support, such as website development, data conversion, software development, usability testing, text encoding, and AV editing (Bryson et al, 2011, p. 28) might involve skills that are a little more rare in libraries, but these skills (and more along these lines) are pretty commonly offered by library schools and can be found in practice in a variety of librarian jobs.

[pullquote]The depiction of DH expertise as a specialized and rare skill, rather than as a range of skills not too uncommon in the library, leads reasonably to an acknowledgement of the administrative concern that support for DH might not be for all libraries, might even be “a distraction from a given library’s basic mission.”[/pullquote]

Posner’s statement is probably most true of those librarians with “alternative appointments” who might be expected to unite in themselves a mastery of the whole field (and perhaps these librarians are leaned on too hard because they are organizationally isolated). The depiction of DH expertise as a specialized and rare skill, rather than as a range of skills not too uncommon in the library, leads reasonably to an acknowledgement of the administrative concern that support for DH might not be for all libraries, and might even be “a distraction from a given library’s basic mission” (Posner, 2013, p. 51). I would contend, however, that many libraries and librarians are already supporting DH, or could support DH (or, really, eResearch, which is a term that encompasses a broader set of research computing services offered to the entire campus), maybe without even calling it such. If we consider how many librarians perform any amount of the services found in the ARL SPEC Kit across the full spectrum of 4500+ post-secondary educational institutions, as well as more specialized organizations, then we might start to appreciate the breadth of expertise available (survey anyone?).

In any case, library support for eResearch might not be as easy to compartmentalize or to avoid as we’d like to think. Even if a library administrator were to make a sweeping decision that DH is “a distraction from a given library’s basic mission,” probably considering only the costs to support Big DH projects, such as digitization, metadata services, specialized tool development, and so on, student and faculty scholars will still walk into the library to ask reference librarians for help working with electronic documents or platforms that increasingly enable eResearch approaches. As reference librarians well know, the number of online primary and secondary sources grows daily. Scholars are using these sources. These sources are under- or inefficiently utilized, in many cases, if eResearch skills or tools are not applied, so patrons are under-served if their librarians aren’t ready to help them.

Geoffrey Rockwell pointed out long ago that the use of the “find” function, available in word processing applications, PDF readers, and browsers, is itself a text analysis tool (Rockwell, 2005). Some eResearch tools, perhaps especially Voyant, developed by Rockwell and StĂ©fan Sinclair, are not much harder to use than the “find” function in Word. There will likely come a point when awareness of how to use such tools will become less exotic, if not quite as common as the awareness of how to use the variety of database interfaces.

In my view, this understanding should be encouraged sooner than later, so the insights from using these tools can diffuse across the field, informing a range of decisions at many levels. For example, I attended a mini-conference fairly recently where a thought leader in the library field discussed the need for librarians to communicate to vendors the expectation that text annotation tools should be built into ebook platforms. The truth is, though, that there are great text annotation tools already available, not least brat and CATMA. Instead of calling for the development of proprietary tools, we should be supporting the further development of open tools. What librarians, especially acquisitions and reference librarians, really need to communicate to vendors is that content must be available in open, exportable formats. We don’t need vendors to design redundant tools that are only for use on one platform, applicable only to proprietary content, so that librarians and users must learn (but don’t learn) 57 varieties of the same thing.

Although she doesn’t state it explicitly, Posner mostly focuses on Big DH projects in her article, as do Jennifer Vinopal and Monica McCormick. In their article, Vinopal and McCormick are concerned with how libraries can scale services to meet the needs of scholars seeking collaborations that will require big chunks of librarian-hours, so the discussion of project selection processes, the strategic deployment of staff, and so on, are quite pertinent (Vinopal & McCormick, 2013). Really, all of the articles in the JLA special issue are excellent and useful. But additional attention should be paid to the full range and nuance of approaches to DH in the library, as well as to how DH services might help meet the related needs of scholars in the social sciences and physical sciences.

[pullquote]We shouldn’t let the discussion of Big DH distract us from all of the smaller things we can and should be doing right now as librarians.[/pullquote]

“Digital Humanities” as a label might sooner or later face a backlash as a trend, but it seems certain that eResearch will carry on, if only because the research material and the tools to explore the material continue to proliferate, spurring continued evolution of the practice of research. We might even speculate that eResearch will one of these days just be called research again, will be considered business as usual. In responding to Digital Humanities in Libraries: New Models for Scholarly Engagement,  I do agree that we will need to develop processes for prioritizing and meeting Big DH requests as administrators, but we shouldn’t let the discussion of Big DH distract us from all of the littler things we can and should be doing right now as librarians. And we certainly should be careful to avoid letting the discussion of Big DH scare us away from all of these smaller things, because even a small amount of eResearch exposure for non-specialized librarians might lead to new understanding and new possibilities for the whole library.

I’d Like to Learn More

I’m really curious about what librarians are doing across the spectrum. Have any libraries yet experimented with a broader-based approach to supporting DH? Have any instruction librarians yet integrated DH tools into regular instruction, perhaps for graduate student orientation? Do any reference librarians use DH tools at the desk in the course of taking regular questions? What tools? Have any libraries successfully incentivized non-specialized librarians to learn and offer these skills? What kinds of projects are being worked on across the spectrum, at libraries not covered by the ARL SPEC Kit? (I’ve been struck, looking around me at conferences, that community college and liberal arts college librarians are often the ‘first responders’ to new needs appearing in libraries.) How can we work together as a community to share information about such projects?

As an example, I’ll mention that I programmed a database and interface for a professor as a hobby project, because the professor could find no other means of support through the library or other campus units and because I happened to have the skills and the interest. It was mostly by chance, really, that her request found its way to me, although her project involves several grants supporting several research assistants and although I worked for a very wealthy Association of Research Libraries (ARL) institution with many of the newest bells and whistles when I started the project. I knew other librarians at the same library, not assigned to eResearch or DH by administrative classification, who would have similarly helped out on projects appropriate to their eResearch-ready skills, if only they had been asked, and this despite the fact that they already had “too much” to do (
the prevailing condition of librarians everywhere). How can this “hidden capacity” find a use? It seems to me that eResearch will grow to seem increasingly basic as research. Some libraries are already offering their scholars a research advantage because they have re-organized to offer DH or eResearch centers, but are there any alternative models? How might other libraries start to catch up, even if they don’t have eResearch centers? How might support for eResearch vary across different types of institutions (not just ARL institutions, but also libraries at liberal arts colleges, community colleges, regionally focused state universities, and so on)?

(I’d like to thank Evan Rusch, Reference and Government Documents Librarian at Minnesota State University, for helping me think about how reference librarians have responded to evolving needs in the past, as well as for his larger questions about how the organization can best encourage responsive and responsible librarianship, although he needs to write down his own thoughts about that.)

 REFERENCES

Bryson, T., Posner, M., St. Pierre, A., & Varner, S.  (2011) SPEC Kit 326: Digital humanities. Washington, D.C.: Association of Research Libraries.

Posner, M. (2013). “No Half Measures: Overcoming Common Challenges to Doing Digital Humanities in the Library.” Journal of Library Administration, 53, 43-52.

Rockwell, G.  (2005) “What is text analysis? A very short answer.” Text Analysis Developers Alliance.

Vandegrift, M. & Varner, S.  (2013) “Evolving in Common: Creating Mutually Supportive Relationships Between Libraries and the Digital Humanities.”  Journal of Library Administration, 53, 67-78.

Vinopal, J. & McCormick, M. (2013).  “Supporting Digital Scholarship in Research Libraries: Scalability and Sustainability.” Journal of Library Administration, 53, 27-42.

 

The Digital Liberal Arts, Libraries, and Timidity

Satchel Paige had a saying: “Don’t look back, something might be gaining on you.” When we speak of forming a vision for libraries in the digital now we expend a great deal of energy looking behind, worrying and wringing hands about what might be gaining or surpassing us. It may arise from a professional timidity, as described by Micah Vandegrift and Stewart Varner in, their recent article in JLA, “Evolving in Common: Creating Mutually Supportive Relationships Between Libraries and the Digital Humanities,” or too strong a devotion to dated prime directive of service.  In any case, libraries are working through a process of redefinition at the same time that the digital humanities are seeking definition. The timing is right for a meeting of the ways.

[pullquote]Libraries are working through a process of redefinition at the same time that the digital humanities are seeking definition.[/pullquote]

I am the University Librarian at the University of Richmond. As a library at an undergraduate, liberal arts institution of 3500 students, we find ourselves in a nimble position. We are well funded and have an administration that embraces not only the practice of digital humanities, but also the broader ideal of digital liberal arts.  As William Pannapacker puts it in his article “Stop Calling It ‘Digital Humanities’; And 9 other strategies to help liberal-arts colleges join the movement“: “As an umbrella term for many kinds of technologically enhanced scholarly work, DH has built up a lot of brand visibility, especially at research universities. But in the context in which I work, it seems more inclusive to call it digital liberal arts (DLA) with the assumption that we’ll lose the ‘digital’ within a few years, once practices that seem innovative today become the ordinary methods of scholarship.”

Despite our support and resources, we determined early on that while the library had a leadership role in defining, developing and supporting the digital liberal arts, we could not do it alone. Our work is an active collaboration between the library, our University’s Digital Scholarship Lab, University Communications Office, and Web Services Team. Our ability to succeed is determined by effectively deploying the collective strength of our academic community. Our library has assumed a leading role in the process.

Our recent project, Virginia and the Crisis of the Union, illustrates the library’s engagement with digital liberal arts. Taking as its focus Virginia’s vote to secede from the Union and the debates leading up to this vote, the project “links the fully transcribed text of these debates with a wealth of contextual information, giving users the tools to ask why the men who brought the war into their own counties and neighborhoods did so.” The project site includes a detailed description of the collaboration and the roles of each contributing department.

These collaborations have required a shift not only in how the library was organized — what we collected, our service model, etc. — the basics of library work, but a perceptual shift, as well. While we embrace the roles of organizing and preserving collective memory, as described by Vandegrift and Varner, we can no longer wait patiently at the end of the scholarly assembly line and collect products dropping off the belt.  We can no longer watch our faculty work to publish their research only to wait to pay a publisher for the privilege to share their work. The library must be both a resource for and active participant in the act of scholarly and artistic creation. This requires us to view research both as a process and an end result to be collected.

[pullquote]While we embrace the roles of organizing and preserving collective memory, as described by Vandegrift and Varner, we can no longer wait patiently at the end of the scholarly assembly line and collect products dropping off the belt.[/pullquote]

Libraries’ roles are expanding to encompass this broadening scope of scholarship. The same can be said for the digital liberal arts. As Vandegrift and Varner attest, technology allows humanities work to be more engaging and more accessible. The research process can be highly individual, messy, and unique. It can also be innovative, creative, and liberating. Academic and research libraries provide the raw material needed by researchers and, in their reframing as a productive and creative space, libraries engage in invigorating areas of inquiry. Like libraries, digital humanities provides a set of tools for new research. Libraries and the digital liberal arts overlap in their desires to transform teaching, create accessibility, and find new ways of forming and asking questions.

At the end of the day I am siding with Satchel Paige. As a library administrator, I am less inclined to worry about what is coming up behind me. What’s done is done. We must move forward.

The concept that has stuck with me through my multiple readings of Vandegrift and Varner’s “Evolving in Common” has been this: “The problem is not browsing or access; it is timidity.” In the end, it comes down to how willing we are to not just embrace new ideas, but to run with them. How willing are we to roll up our sleeves and stand with our faculty and students throughout their research process, admit that we do not understand all that we see and hear, and learn? How willing are we, as administrators and leaders, to determine a path for our organizations and lead the way down it, clearing obstacles that stand in the way of our staff’s success, getting our hands dirty and bruised in the process, so that they have the room to grow, take chances, fail, and succeed? As Bethany Nowviskie writes in “Skunks in the Library: A Path to Production for Scholarly R&D,” “if you want unusual results, you can’t expect that they will come from playing by the usual rules.”

The library is not an end in itself; it is a means to an end. Libraries and the digital liberal arts have much to gain and lessons to learn by evolving in common, but only if we leave our timidity behind.

In Service? A Further Provocation on Digital Humanities Research in Libraries

Editor Barbara Rockenbach has assembled an insightful collection of perspectives on the current “digital humanities moment” in librarianship. There is, however, one crucial perspective missing: a historical one. In her introduction to a special issue of the Journal of Library Administration (JLA) devoted to the topic of digital humanities in libraries, Rockenbach highlights several themes she considers significant for her intended audience of “library leaders involved in, or considering support for, [digital humanities] or digital scholarship.” One of these themes is what Rockenbach characterizes as “tension between traditional notions of library service and new models of user engagement.” Her choice of heading for the discussion of this theme—”Service as Disservice?”—perhaps hints at her own feelings. The choice of how to frame the issue, with “traditional notions of library service” on one side and “new models of user engagement on the other,” is more consequential and more problematic. One side of this opposition is merely a stand-in. There is no such thing as “traditional library service.” Deploying this term as though it had some stable meaning obscures rather than illuminates a long and complex history of information work relevant to this new moment.

[pullquote]There is no such thing as “traditional library service.”[/pullquote]

To impute this problematic move solely to Rockenbach would be to blame her unfairly for what seems to be a common reflex in the library literature. In the same issue of the JLA, Stewart Varner and Micah Vandegrift refer to “traditional library work” as they attempt to make an affirmative case for librarians to expand beyond such work. Even a cursory search of the wider library literature will uncover numerous examples of some notion of “traditional service” being deployed in contrast with new endeavors (audiovisual librarianship, distance services, preprint servers, open access, etc.). A particularly interesting reflection on the “traditional library” appeared on the In the Library  with the Lead Pipe blog while this post was in preparation. Unfortunately, accepting such a framing device will likely limit the possibilities for fully exploring digital humanities in libraries. A richer library history offers a less problematically normative account of how librarians might interact with such new methodological and conceptual endeavors.

This post is offered as a contribution to a broader framing of the issues around “service” that Rockenbach treats in her introduction and about which Miriam Posner has many incisive things to say in her contributed paper. There are sure to be different approaches to a subject as broad as “digital humanities or digital scholarship,” but to consider what these might be and weigh their relative merits will require clearing away assumptions that have accreted in the terms of the debate. In her paper, “Skunks in the Library: A Path to Production for Scholarly R&D,” Bethany Nowviskie articulates what is at stake for librarians in embracing the digital humanities “as true intellectual partners.” She argues that “naturalized assumptions about how libraries best serve scholars” can inhibit full participation in “collaborative R&D [research and development].” Building up an alternative vision of library engagement with the digital humanities through R&D work, Nowviskie suggests that the true onus on librarians is “to experiment; to iterate; to assert our own intellectual agendas as part of the DH research landscape,” and perhaps even, as she wonders, “[T]o play? To play in public? To make the things we want to see made? To collaborate like mad, with local scholars, other librarians, and the wider, public open source and open access community that encompasses them both?” As I have also argued (in an earlier post that several authors of the JLA special issue generously cite), librarians have much to gain by embracing roles not only as active collaborators in digital humanities work, as both Posner and Bethany Nowviskie advocate, but also as project directors and leaders. The appeal to “traditional library service” as a unitary concept blunts the generative potential of alternative proposals like Nowviskie’s, mine, and others (such as Jefferson Bailey’s here on the dh+lib blog) through a suspect history that collapses into claims about identity.

A Unitary Concept of Service is a Disservice

After summarizing some of the arguments against framing digital humanities work as service to faculty, students, and other campus constituencies, Rockenbach counters that “moving wholesale away from the notion of service in a library would be a mistake. The service ethic in librarianship is one of its defining features.” There are several problems with this claim and the line of argument that follows from it. First, among the included contributions, there is no evidence of any suggestion to move wholesale away from “service.” The real ground of debate is narrower—no one suggests that digital humanities work will be the sum total of library activity—rather, the vital question seems to be: when libraries do engage in digital humanities work, how should they best go about doing so? Second, even setting aside this creation of a straw man, the second half of Rockenbach’s formulation—her suggestion that “the service ethic in librarianship is one of its defining features”—introduces a strain of discourse about library identity into a discussion that is, for the most part, about library practice. The deployment of the empty, ahistorical construct of “traditional library service” seems to act as a cover for advancing unacknowledged arguments about identity. That is, the move to stabilize the notion of service can be read as an attempt to stabilize a particular vision of what libraries are or “what librarians do” (or don’t do). The identity argument lurks in the discussions around “the service ethic” but needs to be directly addressed. Third, the discussion that follows this claim about “defining features” conflates terms that need to be understood distinctly: namely, a “service ethic” and a “user-focused set of services.” In both cases, to treat the idea of “service” in librarianship as stable or uniform across even so short a period as the modern era of American librarianship (less than 150 years) is a historical fallacy that must be addressed in order to work productively on “the role libraries are playing or could play” in digital humanities.

[pullquote]to treat the idea of “service” in librarianship as stable or uniform across even so short a period as the modern era of American librarianship (less than 150 years) is a historical fallacy that must be addressed in order to work productively on “the role libraries are playing or could play” in digital humanities.[/pullquote]

Rockenbach’s own summary of the argument for “service” suggests the instability of the notion. After beginning with “the service ethic,” Rockenbach describes “the user-focused set of services that have traditionally been offered in a library 
 [s]ervices such as one-on-one research consultation, research education, and technology support services.” A reading of this list should prompt the conclusion that these things are not all alike. In fact, it would seem difficult to generate a single, coherent definition of “service” from this list. These examples echo an earlier catalog of “service-oriented activities,” which included: “training, software and hardware support, search and discovery assistance, the creation of disciplinary portals, and collection building.” Certainly “technology support services” (hardware and software) requires parsing the term “traditional” in a non-traditional way. The argument here is not that libraries and librarians cannot do any of these things. Rather, it would seem that a category of activities (with different origins and histories) is being assumed as a unitary, stable, and definite concept.

The space of a blog post only allows for a brief sketch of the history of libraries and librarianship that complicates any notion of “traditional library service.” The following three vignettes will have to suggest possibilities that may be developed at greater length elsewhere: the history of reference work, the fortunes and influences of the “documentation” movement, and recent history from the last decade related to the idea of “information commons.” Even in miniature, the opportunity to unpack the meaning(s) of “service” in a library context is an invitation to improve the profession’s critical self understanding.

[pullquote]Even in miniature, the opportunity to unpack the meaning(s) of “service” in a library context is an invitation to improve the profession’s critical self understanding.[/pullquote]

On Reference

In an article for Library Quarterly and in a doctoral dissertation later published in the Association of College and Research Libraries (ACRL) monograph series, Samuel Rothstein offers an extensive history of “the development of the concept of reference service.” In his history, Rothstein recounts how, until the emergence of a public library movement allied to progressive social movements in the second half of the 19th century, the constitutive activity of librarianship (certainly in “academic” libraries) was custodianship and preservation of book collections. Rothstein identifies the paper given by Samuel Swett Green at the epochal 1876 conference of librarians as the first proposal for a programmatic “service” to users of the library. In its first incarnation as “assistance to readers,” the concept of “service” in libraries refers to a campaign of moral improvement. Green writes “It is a common practice 
 for users of a library to ask the librarian or his assistants to select stories for them. I would have great use made of this disposition.” He counsels libraries to place an “accomplished” employee (read: an educated woman) “in the circulating department” and thereby “a great influence can be exerted in the direction of causing good books to be used.” The benefit of Rothstein’s detailed history is the way it illuminates the changing referent behind the term “service.” In American librarianship, “reference” is the original service and reference evolved from first a progressive moral campaign, next to the provision of different varieties of catalogues and published aides, then to the staffing of “information desks” and other activities that users of present libraries might recognize.

[pullquote]the idea of what is meant by “service” evolved and changed over time; there is no stable set of practices here to be set as a norm against the new activities that Posner, Nowviskie, and other authors from the special issue propose that librarians take on in “doing digital humanities.”[/pullquote]

The particular evolution of reference service is worth understanding in more depth, but the salient point for the discussion of digital humanities and libraries is the fluidity of the concept. If there were a true candidate for “traditional library service,” in the sense of programmatic activity on the part of libraries, reference work might be it. Yet, even in this context, the idea of what is meant by “service” evolved and changed over time; there is no stable set of practices here to be set as a norm against the new activities that Posner, Nowviskie, and other authors from the special issue propose that librarians take on in “doing digital humanities.” Studies about perceptions of (academic) libraries, like the triennial faculty survey conducted by Ithaka S+R, suggest that norming can become a trap—“if x is what the library is, do we need that anymore?”

Even taken together, the two parts of the original argument (service ethic and service activities) do not find support in the available history of libraries and librarianship. To the extent there is a “service ethic” in librarianship it is too complex to expect that it could be expressed in and thus, reliably mapped to, any particular set of “user-focused services” (even one as miscellaneous as that offered). This is not to say that the profession does not have values; a service ethic is as much of a contingent, historically-constructed multiplicity as service practice. In the case of reference, the ethic behind the first reference service—the suggestion of “good” books to readers—was, as library historian Kenneth E. Carpenter writes “a means of elevating the lower classes … help[ing] the working man in his trade, … keeping peace between the classes, [and] inculcating democratic values in immigrants.” Later appeals to a service ethic referred to a librarian who “serves as an efficient mediator between men [read: upper-class, scholars] and books.” This version has persisted though it is no longer so specific to either “men” or “books.”

Recourse to sociological definitions of the idea of a “profession,” which are often invoked in debates about the status of librarians relative to other academic professionals and include notions of a service (versus a self-interested) orientation, does not help very much. This is because, there too, “service” is glossed several different ways, and also because, as Michael F. Winter points out, professional librarianship managed to get on for 60 years without a code of ethics; this basic chronological problem should cast doubt on a strong definitional claim. As the next section, on the “documentation” movement, will suggest, in the case of libraries after the period of early reference service there were yet more formulations of a definitive “service ethic,” with different accompanying programmatic services. For the “documentalists,” the service ethic was service to goals such as “the advancement of science.”

On Documentation

The history of the “documentation” movement and, to an extent, special libraries also argues that the concept of a “service ethic as one of [librarianship’s] defining features” needs to be expanded, and that, once expanded, “service” does not stand in contrast with research or related modes of engagement with endeavors like digital humanities. Documentalists and special librarians concerned themselves with topics like document formats, reproduction, data processing, and retrieval—taking “service” to the (expanding) information needs of science and industry as invitations to explore new technologies and engage in research and development. The work of federal librarians working in institutions such as the Library and Reports Division of the Office of Technical Services at the Department of Commerce after World War II, evaluating, organizing, indexing, and disseminating technical reports from classified military programs as well as from Nazi Germany exemplify how the documentation movement can be read as an alternate history of “library service.” That is, documentalists’ commitments to a librarian “service ethic” manifested in a quite different set of “service activities” from those pursued by early academic reference or public librarians. W. Boyd Rayward has framed the history of this kind of work within libraries and other information organizations as “a series of disciplinary incorporations, transformations, and continuities 
 that has created a rich tapestry of speculation, systems development, and institutional expression that has led to what we now call library and information science [LIS].”

[pullquote]Documentalists and special librarians concerned themselves with topics like document formats, reproduction, data processing, and retrieval—taking “service” to the (expanding) information needs of science and industry as invitations to explore new technologies and engage in research and development.[/pullquote]

The genesis of the documentation movement, one of the forerunners of modern LIS, is usually credited to Paul Otlet, whose career spanned from the last years of the 19th century to the 1930s. In chronological terms, the notions of “service” from this tradition are only twenty years more recent than those from the public librarianship tradition described by Rothstein. They are nearly contemporaneous. In historiographical terms, what is significant about Rayward’s narrative of this history is the claim for its continuity and coherence. In his account, documentation, and later information science, is also part of the history of librarianship, not something separate. Some introduction to information-service-specific data processing and document retrieval is still part of the training of most librarians. (This is particularly true for those who come through Masters of Library Science programs.) Rockenbach’s opposition of traditional service against “new modes,” including more direct collaboration in digital humanities work, threatens to disappear the present work and the history of many systems librarians and other library technologists descended from the documentation paradigm. Shouldn’t work practices and concepts from documentation/information science count in a truer understanding of “traditional library service”?

An account that includes the history of the documentation movement breaks down the opposition from Rockenbach’s introduction as a way of marking “librarian” work against other kinds of digital humanities work—such as programming, data development and design, or project leadership. Work on microphotography, early networking, indexing, and information retrieval were legible as librarian activities (though not uncontested or undebated), and cognates in digital humanities research and development should be likewise.

On Management

Recent history—from the first decade of the 21st century, a hundred years after the work of Samuel Green, Melvil Dewey, and Paul Otlet—also needs to figure in framing the discussion around libraries’ engagement with digital humanities. Specifically, the history of the idea of “information commons” as part of an interest in revitalizing “the library as a place” is relevant to this discussion. The history of “information commons” is part of a history of “administration” as an activity and then a specialization within library work. This history of administration of libraries intersects with the history of (American) business and business management. The purpose of acknowledging the history of “information commons” in the debate over digital humanities and libraries is to attend critically to the context of accounts like Rockenbach’s rather than, as with the other historical accounts, to disrupt and expand a too-neat definition of “service” in libraries.

[pullquote]To varying degrees in different eras, borrowings of business terminology into the discourse of library administration have shaded into borrowing of business concepts and perhaps also business values (to good and ill).[/pullquote]

Attending critically to this context means noting that this very welcome special issue on digital humanities and libraries was published in journal devoted to library administration. Over the 20th century, as libraries grew both in number of volumes held and also in number of departments and branches, management and administration became important specializations of library work, even library “service.” American libraries before the late 19th century did not have complex management structures or the need to worry much about organizational charts and efficient work practices. Perhaps because librarianship was a professional rather than scholarly endeavor, there is a history of influence and borrowing between business management and library administration. The career of Frederick Winslow Taylor and “scientific management” overlaps with the early era of professional American librarianship. Papers were given on “Time and Motion Studies in Libraries.” The plans of prominent library leaders like Melvil Dewey echoed “scientific management” ideas. To varying degrees in different eras, borrowings of business terminology into the discourse of library administration have shaded into borrowing of business concepts and perhaps also business values (to good and ill).

The enthusiasm for “information commons” is but a more recent example of the influence of business management ideas on library administration, and because it involves management of “information technology” it is specifically germane to the discussion of digital humanities in libraries. Donald Beagle’s seminal article on the “information commons” model in academic libraries explicitly credits business management theories, specifically information technology management, as inspiration. In the original paper, the information commons “denote[s] a new type of physical facility specifically designed to organize workspace and service delivery around [an] integrated digital environment [consisting of many databases accessible through a single interface].” Beagle cites a strand of management theory from the 1980s known as “strategic alignment” in explaining the shape and genesis of the information commons idea. Strategic alignment, according to Beagle, “was developed in response to the unique management challenges and demands of information technology (IT) and relates the articulation of vision in strategic technology planning to the actualization of vision in infrastructure, process, and implementation.” (Of course, this framing was not universal—a contemporaneous position paper by Martin Halbert, then at Emory, does not explicitly align itself with the same management theory.) However, the approach that Rockenbach singles out for praise in concluding her discussion of “service” is the “four-tier service model” at New York University. The NYU model, as described in the contributed paper by Jennifer Vinopal and Monica McCormick, seems to be a very close translation of the “information commons” idea to the realm of digital humanities.

Vinopal and McCormick speak of “enterprise-level” and “commodity tools,” of “infrastructure” and “scalability.” These terms could come from the annual report of the Chief Technology Officer (CTO) or Chief Information Officer (CIO) of a major corporation. In light of Beagle’s vision described above, it seems plausible to suggest that the development and promotion of “information commons” is an intellectual forerunner to digital humanities initiatives shaped like NYU’s, and that these approaches reflect values from business, and specifically IT management.  Again, Vinopal, McCormick, and Rockenbach cannot be uniquely identified with this trend. Among the other JLA contributors, Nowviskie’s “skunk works” comes from the corporate culture of Lockheed Martin, the giant aerospace and defense contractor, and Ben Vershbow describes the work of the New York Public Library (NYPL) Labs as “a kind of in-house technology startup.” At the least, this attests to the growing prominence of “the corporation” as a powerful shaping metaphor in American life and suggests that further investigation of recent business management history might be a fruitful avenue for understanding the frames (in a neo-institutionalist sense) that libraries may bring to the digital humanities.

Conclusion

The narratives that librarianship tells itself about its history and mission are important in determining how the profession engages new opportunities such as digital humanities. To find a place for research and development in libraries relies on critically examining framing assumptions. Three small contributions from library history—reference service, the documentation movement, and the information commons—open up the narrative of librarian roles, practices, and competencies in ways that may allow fuller consideration of the place of digital humanities work in libraries. The goal of offering these quickly sketched histories is to question the idea of “traditional library service” as a coherent, meaningful concept that can be set against new activities, such as those identified with digital humanities. Rather than being a definitive concept, library “service” is an unstable category that contains diverse and complex histories. The connotations of “traditional” suggest that a historical argument is being advanced, but in fact “traditional library service” is a purely rhetorical gesture. Without careful attention to the actual histories of library work, “traditional library service” can be used to subtly cast new activities as “other” in ways that foreclose real consideration of how libraries and librarianship might productively adapt.

[pullquote]I would like librarians to take up the intellectual provocations and new tools of digital humanities in service to the profession.[/pullquote]

Part of the project of digital humanities in libraries can be to derive energy for more and better work from abandoning the false security of “traditional library service” and embracing the unstable, multiple meanings that lie behind that phrase. Can the playful R&D of Nowviskie’s “skunk works,” the “startup”-inspired approach of the NYPL Labs and Maryland’s own Digital Humanities Incubator, as well as the well-planned and deeply fair-minded organizational approach of NYU all catalyze each other? I would like librarians to take up the intellectual provocations and new tools of digital humanities in service to the profession.

Acknowledgements

This essay has benefited enormously from conversations with Jennifer Guiliano who read several earlier draft of the piece, and from the perceptive and probing comments of dh+lib editors Roxanne Shirazi and Sarah Potvin. I am grateful to all of them. All remaining shortcomings are solely my own.

Selected References

Beagle, Donald. “Conceptualizing an information commons.” The Journal of Academic Librarianship 25, no. 2 (1999): 82-89.

Carpenter, Kenneth E. “A library historian looks at librarianship.” Daedalus 125, no. 4 (1996): 77-102.

Casey, Marion. “Efficiency, Taylorism, and Libraries in Progressive America.” The Journal of Library History (1974-1987) 16, no. 2 (1981): 265-279.

Goode, William J. “The librarian: from occupation to profession?” The Library Quarterly 31, no. 4 (1961): 306-320.

Rayward, W. Boyd. “The history and historiography of information science: some reflections.” Information processing & management 32, no. 1 (1996): 3-17.

Rayward, W Boyd. “Library and Information Science: An Historical Perspective.” Journal of Library History 20, no. 2 (1985): 120–136.

Rothstein, Samuel. “The development of the concept of reference service in American libraries, 1850-1900.” The Library Quarterly 23, no. 1 (1953): 1-15.

Wilensky, Harold L. “The professionalization of everyone?” American journal of sociology (1964): 137-158

Winter, Michael F. The professionalization of librarianship. No. 160. University of Illinois Graduate School of Library and Information Science, 1983.

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Evolving in the Face of Tradition

Micah Vandegrift and Stewart Varner’s contribution to the Journal of Library Administration special issue on digital humanities in libraries offers readers a wonderful exploration of some key texts for digital humanities scholars as well as connections to how those works can inform the work of librarians (Vandegrift and Varner 2013). The article is full of suggestions on how to build up resources and make yourself visible to potentially interested colleagues. They close with a charge to all of us to remember to take our work beyond the walls of the library in order to foster collaborative practices.

Their article is a welcome addition to the discussions on how to work alongside rather than work for researchers, and I thank them both for writing it. I want to take a moment to address one factor that is implicitly present yet never directly addressed in all of the authors’ suggestions: the promotion and tenure requirements for faculty, particularly faculty outside the library.

Many junior faculty and graduate students are taking up digital humanities projects both to explore intellectual interests and to help define their professional persona. But the tenure and promotion framework through which these emerging scholars will be evaluated is firmly rooted in a number of traditions that stand in almost direct opposition to the processes and products of digital humanities work.

Take the outside reviewer component of the tenure review process. Oftentimes faculty going up for review are required to compile a list of full professors in their field of study; in some cases this list is further restricted to full professors at American institutions. This can present certain challenges to scholars who are in emerging fields, to those whose work has been more fully supported in other parts of the world, or to those whose projects are interdisciplinary in nature and not easily assigned to one field of thought over another. To further complicate the process, scholars will routinely find that whomever they have worked with before as advisor or co-creator cannot serve. The attempt to ensure some measure of objectivity is understandable here, but it also serves to discourage academic partnerships by emphasizing the more traditional “conversation” of single author articles and monographs.

[pullquote]Many of the potential collaborators with which we interact are facing outside pressure to do the opposite of what Mr. Vandegrift and Mr. Varner’s piece requests.[/pullquote]

Along with this, faculty also have the frequent pressure to produce a scholarly monograph from an appropriately prestigious academic press. We in the humanities, broadly speaking, still place a great deal of value in the scholarly monograph, certainly more than some other fields. While there is plenty to be said for altering promotion and tenure requirements, that is a conversation to be had elsewhere. Here, I would simply like to point out that many of the potential collaborators with which we interact are facing outside pressure to do the opposite of what Mr. Vandegrift and Mr. Varner’s piece requests. Faculty members are tacitly or explicitly encouraged to work alone and publish in traditional channels in formats that are easily recognizable and associated with a major field of study.

That is not to say that they have to listen or that we have to work in service of those goals. Scholars in the sciences have explored how to build up a career founded on collaborative projects (Zucker, 2012) and have reminded us to ensure that any data from collaborative work is freely and openly available (Koepsell, 2010). Education scholars have written on how distance education work is viewed for promotion (Simpson, 2010) and the ways that service projects combine with research tasks for tenure (Reybold and Corda, 2011; Demb and Wade, 2012). What connects these disparate scholars is a charge to investigate the factors that shape one’s professional scholarly life, and it is the continuation of that investigation and discussion that best serves scholars as they continue to engage in digital humanities work.

[pullquote]It is important to talk with graduate students and faculty members and any potential collaborator about how the work will fit into their larger research agenda and how that agenda will be positioned when they go on the market or when they come up for review.[/pullquote]

Websites like dh+lib allow us a space to push against a suggestion of solitude and tradition because people have pushed for more expansive understandings of the processes and products of scholarship. But in the midst of that pushback, I think it is important to talk with graduate students and faculty members and any potential collaborator about how the work will fit into their larger research agenda and how that agenda will be positioned when they go on the market or when they come up for review. These conversations need not serve as a warning against taking on innovative projects. Instead, they can provide a way to build a partnership through a shared awareness of what work needs to be done and how to best position that work for future benefit for yourself and the scholarly community. Your home institution will of course have unique factors to consider in regards both to resources for digital humanities work and to promotion and tenure. The more that you can understand about both, the more informed your discussions with collaborators can be.

 

Works Cited

 

Demb, Ada, and Amy Wade. “Reality Check: Faculty Involvement in Outreach & Engagement.” The Journal of Higher Education 83.3 (2012): 337-66.

 

Koepsell, David. “Back to Basics: How Technology and the Open Source Movement Can Save Science.” Social Epistemology 24.3 (2010): 181-90.

 

Reybold, L. Earle, and Kirsten W. Corda. “Faculty Identity and the ‘Lesser Role’: Service to the Academy.” The Journal of the Professoriate 5.1 (2011): 121-48.

 

Simpson, Cheryl M. “Examining the Relationship Between Institutional Mission and Faculty Reward for Teaching Via Distance.” Online Journal of Distance Learning Administration XIII.1 (2010): n. pag.

 

Vandegrift, Micah, and Stewart Varner. “Evolving in Common: Creating Mutually Supportive Relationships Between Libraries and the Digital Humanities.” Journal of Library Administration 53:1 (2013): 67-78.

 

Zucker, Deborah. “Developing Your Career in an Age of Team Science.” Journal of Investigative Medicine 60.5 (2012): 779-84.

 

Three Steps for Humanities Subject Librarians Interested in DH

Subject librarians’ responsibilities may involve providing virtual and in-person reference services, advanced research consultations, bibliographic instruction sessions, collection development duties, and liaison services. Given the burgeoning interest in DH and the high likelihood that they will be required to possess a certain degree of familiarity with it, how might subject librarians, already overburdened as they are, balance existing responsibilities with this new demand?

[pullquote]Giving humanities subject librarians opportunities to learn new skills would be a step in the right direction.[/pullquote]

Miriam Posner’s article in the January 2013 issue of the Journal of Library Administration, “No Half Measures: Overcoming Challenges to Doing Digital Humanities in the Library,” offers success stories that deal with training opportunities and library-centered DH projects. One approach is to offer training for librarians, and she provides the example of the workshops conducted by the Maryland Institute for Technology in the Humanities and Columbia University’s “librarian re-skilling project.” Giving humanities subject librarians opportunities to learn new skills would be a step in the right direction. She also mentions the Library Lab at Harvard University and the Scholar’s Lab at the University of Virginia as spaces for library staff to experiment with new digital humanities projects. She argues that “a library 
 must provide room support, funding for library professionals, to experiment (and maybe fail).” All of these are necessary and relevant initiatives to help humanities subject librarians develop new skills. Posner also quotes Trevor Muñoz, who underscores that it is important for “librarians to lead their own DH initiatives and projects.”

This JLA issue has prompted me to think about how humanities subject librarians can be more proactive than reactive, taking advantage of this changing landscape to reshape their own roles. In this post, I would like to mainly focus on three steps that humanities subject librarians can take as entrepreneurs looking to engage with and collaborate around digital scholarship, teaching, and research.

Gain Familiarity with Digital Tools and Keep Abreast of DH as it Evolves

  • While there are a number of humanities faculty already involved in DH work, still others are not familiar with digital tools. Subject librarians can take the first step by approaching the departments for which they serve as liaisons and finding out if there is a chance to co-host a series of workshops targeted both at humanities faculty and librarians, to learn the basics of DH work together.
  • Learning partnerships may be possible with technology or educational centers hosted by many libraries, which offer workshops for faculty and encourage them to use digital tools or GIS in their courses. In addition to offering traditional services such as providing collection-related information, teaching a bibliographic instruction session, and offering research consultations for students, subject librarians could work with faculty members in designing courses that take advantage of these centers’ offerings.
  • As mentioned in some of the JLA articles, librarians may want to attend regional THATCamps to familiarize themselves with the tools and methods used by digital humanists, as well as to meet others interested in DH in their region.

 

Seek Partnership, Collaboration, and Leadership

  • DH projects vary widely in scope and nature across different disciplines. Subject librarians would be able to play a critical role in such projects if they can use both/either their subject expertise and/or knowledge of digital tools to shape the project as an equal partner with their faculty and their colleagues.
  • Subject librarians may want to approach the director of undergraduate studies in the humanities departments and discuss the possibility of integrating digital methods into mandatory research methods courses offered in many humanities departments.
  • Another alternative would be for a few aspiring tech savvy subject experts to join forces with librarians in special collections. Both the subject librarians and archivists or curators in special collections can identity a set of rare materials or a collection to co-teach a series of digital workshops with a thematic focus targeted at undergraduate students.
  • If there are certain rare materials or collections in the institution’s archives’ or special collections that may pique the interests of faculty, this would be good opportunity for subject librarians to approach the faculty about the possibility of co-teaching a DH course in relevant humanities departments.
  • Those who are more comfortable designing and teaching their own courses can experiment using digital tools on their own and teach a new DH course.These may be offered as credit-based courses by the humanities departments. They could also be offered by museum studies programs or summer and intersession programs on campus. Successful completion of such projects can be used a spring-board to start a conversation about collaborative DH projects or courses with a faculty member. Yet, it also requires a high degree of specialization in the disciplines on the part of subject librarians.

 

Evaluate Current Work/Commitments

  • All this new work requires time. Therefore, subject librarians could investigate whether they can let go of some traditional duties such as offering general reference services through multiple venues like the reference desk, chat, e-mail, and SMS. It may be necessary to look at the number of reference transactions and determine whether there is a decrease in the number of questions received every semester. If so, then the time may be better spent in learning new skills to provide more specialized liaison services to faculty and students.
  • Another option is to cancel general library workshops with low attendance. It may be worthwhile spending the time in learning new skills instead of planning workshops that draw very few attendees.
  • It might also be helpful to balance the time between collection development and outreach efforts. Therefore, they might need to think of re-examining the services that they offer and prioritize their goals so that they are in better position to take on new roles and responsibilities. Hence, it is crucial to let go off of the “just-in-case” approach when it comes to traditional services and redeploy our energies to engage more actively in outreach and educational programs.

 

Openly Uncertain, Certainly Open

The often noted (and equally often lamented) “vagueness” of the overall digital humanities endeavor points to one of its greatest strengths. Though the boundaries of the field, community, or set of practices known by the name “digital humanities” are difficult to establish (as Barbara Rockenbach points out in her introductory piece to the recent issue of JLA that occasions this post), the need for a clear and uncontroversial delineation of them is questionable.  At some level, even the term “humanities” is needlessly confining when discussing the issues surrounding DH, since the rise of computational methods and the increasing availability of well-organized data that stand to revolutionize humanities scholarship have been equally game-changing in the sciences. In fact, many of the theories and methods associated with the “computational turn” in scholarship are in play regardless of disciplinary focus.

Yet the persistent uncertainty that surrounds the definition of DH can be particularly harrowing for libraries and librarians. The means of entry to the field are so numerous, the points of overlap between DH and the goals of libraries so varied (as Chris Sula along with Micah Vandegrift and Stewart Varner point out with illuminating clarity), a librarian could easily fall back to one of two unhelpful positions: one of complacency that stems from the realization that libraries are already doing, and have been doing for quite some time, a great many projects that are easily categorizable as the “digital humanities”; or one of paralysis brought on by the sheer range of paths one could take to join the field.

[pullquote]DH isn’t monolithic or prescriptive. It’s a term that suggests the momentum of new projects extending the library’s reach into new and potentially innovative directions, whatever form those may take.[/pullquote]

It’s here that that notable vagueness can inspire a change in mindset: no matter how deeply engaged your library is with digital humanities projects, the motivating forces behind DH push you to go just beyond. The “vagueness” of DH gives libraries the opportunity to channel these forces in productive directions, building on current strengths and promoting the digital humanities by pushing locally established humanities offerings into digital directions at the level of research, pedagogy, collections, or elsewhere. DH isn’t monolithic or prescriptive. It’s a term that suggests the momentum of new projects extending the library’s reach into new and potentially innovative directions, whatever form those may take. In this sense, the digital humanities is less a field, community, or set of practices than an approach guided by inspiration and, of course, technology. The digital horizon is constantly receding, not simply through the creation of new technologies, which themselves can as easily distract as inspire, but through the possibilities for improved research and access these technologies have pointed toward and eventually made commonplace. Digital means of research and access have continually expanded our notion of what is possible, while leaving behind a trail of previous techniques that have become established and familiar tools we can’t live without.

From a pre-digital perspective, for example, it’s easy to see how the advent of digitized books available to full-text searching would bring about enormous change in how we engage with written material. Content which was previously hidden in layers of pages, with perhaps only an index or less as a guide, could now be scanned quickly and effectively, and displayed with just a few keystrokes. Finding that elusive quote you couldn’t quite place inside an 800-page novel no longer involved copious amounts of (often frenzied) rereading. Instead, typing a word might summon forth every instance of it, a huge advance in efficiency, but also the foundation for new forms of scholarship. Yet in many cases today we take full-text search for granted as a foundational capacity of digital culture, and the technological capabilities we stagger at now are characterized by far more advanced means of engagement with the text. If searching is a tool that takes us immediately to what we want to read (again, a revolutionary function in itself), today we are not required to think of the text as something just to be read, but as the site of potentially far more sophisticated computational analysis, as a multi-layered object to be reconfigured and recombined with other texts to form new ones. In his “Conjectures on World Literature,” Franco Moretti coins the term “distant reading” to describe the new method of scholarly attention text mining allows us to pay to previously insurmountably large bodies of text, such as the canon of a wide-reaching field like “world literature.” Though surely these modes of engagement are not purely new, the speed and scale at which creators and scholars can work in these modes today encourages ambitious projects and copious experimentation.

[pullquote]The form our collections take and the ways we instruct users to access them can inspire creative methods of research to produce new forms of inquiry.[/pullquote]

The digital humanities approach, in fact, has encouraged a redefinition of the text, and more broadly, of content, and libraries are strongly encouraged to do the same to keep up. Micah Vandegrift and Steward Varner’s piece offers a persuasive appeal to the library to “function as a place where scholars can try new things, explore new methodologies and generally experiment with new ways of doing scholarship.” Libraries have always endeavored to make resources accessible to their users, and the growing appeal of the digital humanities should remind us that making text as available as possible is only one component of making it usable. In “New Age Scholarship: The Work of Criticism in the Age of Digital Reproduction,” Sean Latham stresses that the digital archive has been crucial in producing new critical attitudes toward history and culture, and goes so far as to claim that the “digital archive” is “the condition of possibility for cultural studies itself.” It’s not the resources themselves that have “activated…a transformative method of scholarly inquiry,” but the ways in which users are able to access them. The library in its core mission of connecting users to information can initiate this type of transformation. The form our collections take and the ways we instruct users to access them can inspire creative methods of research to produce new forms of inquiry–see for instance the relatively recent rise of prosopography, or “collective biography.”

Vandegrift and Varner affirm that the role of the library is to “support the journey of research as a means in itself, and encourage imaginative, new, transformative uses of the products of research.” If the methods of digital scholarship can be off-puttingly dry or technical to some, involving the obscure languages of computer code and databases, here is a reminder that the process and results can also be characterized in terms of play and experimentation. It’s an effort that reminds us that the wide horizons of the digital humanities can find their match in libraries open to new forms of service and collaboration.