The Controversy over Change* BY ALFRED N. BRANDON, Librarian
New York Academy of Medicine New York, New York ABSTRACT The full impact of twentieth century technology upon medical libraries was first felt in the late 1950s and early 1960s with the introduction of electronic automation into library methodology. During those years, often the aura of technology for the sake of technology prevailed, and medical librarians did little to inform themselves of capabilities, potentialities, and limitations in relation to cost-effective library usage of automation. Likewise, currently microforms and audiovisuals are frequently acquired for their own sake instead of for their capacity to transmit messages in the most effective and comprehensive way possible. Controversy has raged and still rages over the pros and cons of applying modern technology to library procedures and over the coexistence of the printed page with electronic media. New systems and methodologies, machine or manual, must realistically be evaluated in terms of increased service output by the library to its clientele. Regardless of technological sophistication, any machine that does not significantly contribute to that specific aim has no place in a library. The tradition of the medical librarian has always been to collect, organize, store, and disseminate information in the most efficient manner that the media of the times have had to offer.
"BUT in this world nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes and change." This sage observation is not entirely the product of my original thinking. Neither is the rhetoric, for that matter! Nearly two hundred years ago our illustrious forefather, Benjamin Franklin, identified the first two certainties that our world has to offer us-death and taxes. However, I believe that if Franklin were with us today, he would conclude, as I have, that change is as much a certainty in this life as are death and taxes. So, I have been audacious enough to augment Franklin's original fifteen words with two of mine, "and change." For many years we swept death under the rug, and only recently have thanatologists made the subject socially acceptable and at times seemingly fashionable. Politicians are ever-present to remind us continually about the need for higher taxes, apart from election time, when they appear to *Presented June 16, 1977, at the Seventy-seventh Annual Meeting of the Medical Library Association, Seattle, Washington. Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1)January 1978
have forgotten the entire subject except as it relates to their opponents. Human change and the impact of change on humans have long been bedrock issues for psychologists, and they are always willing to tell us how well or how badly we are coping with change. However, it is not my intent to philosophize on the subjects of death, taxes, and change, for I am not a thanatologist, a politician, nor a psychologist. Instead, I would like to talk as medical librarian to medical librarian about only one of these topics-change as it has affected and is affecting our profession and each of us individually in our profession. REACTIONS TO CHANGE Change is not a new phenomenon that has suddenly beset us. For many decades, medical libraries were somehow able to evade the supercharged rate of change that was occurring in our overall maniacal technological society of the twentieth century. Change did occur within the walls of medical libraries, but it took place at a relatively leisurely rate. The printed page, the skills of the librarian, and the sanctity of the library itself could be taken for granted. So, we were able to assimilate leisurely change with resilience, a sense of control, and a minimal amount of emotion. Suddenly, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the computer invaded our libraries en masse, and we were, almost without warning, thrown into the Age of Technology screaming and shouting or blindly embracing its gods. Our resilience and sense of control were replaced by massive emotion as electronic technology penetrated the very gut of our profession. Were we ready to respond rationally to the excessive pace and the complexity of change that confronted us? Hindsight clearly shows us that we were not. Some of us took on the role of the rigid martyr who would save the book and the library from the false gods of technology, thereby saving humanity as well. We viewed all electronic advancements as satan-inspired heresies and fervently hoped they would mysteriously disappear. For us, change was
I
ALFRED N. BRANDON
frightening and the status quo was comfortable, but above all else, libraries were for librarians, books, and book lovers. Even now, many of us who took on that role probably have not completely relinquished it, and in the present-day world of MEDLINE, AVLINE, CATLINE, SERLINE, on-line, and off-line, we consider ourselves helpless victims of technological rape. Our intimate personal relationship with the book has been violated! Others of us became the avant-garde. We immediately metamorphosed from librarians to biomedical communicators, information specialists, subject analysts, and many more. Our libraries became biomedical communication centers and multimedia learning facilities. Books were of little relevance to the technologically hip, and we hoped that they would mysteriously disappear from our lives. We envisioned our working environment to be a place of cathode-ray tubes, tape decks, buttons, flashing lights, and maybe even robots pushing buttons. We felt that automation was the panacea for all library ills; microfilm the cure-all for every library space problem; and audiovisual format the answer to all learning enigmas. Even though nearly two decades have passed, are we still grasping for every gimmick on the market so that we can get it before it gets us'? To us, is change a challenge, or a threat that we somehow must conquer'? However, during this time of technological upheaval in our medical libraries, most of us took on the Miltonian philosophy of "They also serve who only stand and wait." We stood and we waited, but I am not sure whom or what we served. We did little to study, inquire, observe, or understand the capabilities, potentialities, costs, and limitations of the electronic wonders that were being presented. Instead, we went ahead too soon or stayed behind too long. For us, the pace of change was simply too fast, resulting in what has been termed "future shock." In essence, the future had arrived too soon for all of us; those who were vehemently opposed, those who were desperately in favor, and those who only stood and waited. We were embroiled in controversy, but most of it bubbled under the surface, and few of us confronted the computer controversy with an open and rational approach. Nevertheless, we have survived the initial onslaught of the computer into our libraries, not without scars, of course, but we are still here, the book is still here, and the computer is unquestionably here to stay. I do not mean to imply that 2
controversy no longer exists; it certainly does. Now tempered with hindsight, the controversy over the place and role of the computer in the medical library is more substantive, realistic, and somewhat less emotional. As we look back, we can see that many of our early decisions were made on inadequate information and that actions were taken merely as reactions to current situations without coherent planning for the future. Could history possibly be repeating itself now'? PROBLEMS OF AUTOMATION A few years ago the avant-garde of our profession capriciously succumbed to any electronic technique simply because it was there, but now, all too often, many of us blithely take on sophisticated, supposedly work-saving automated systems because our neighbors have installed them, and we feel an urgency to keep up with the library around the corner. After several months, when various quirks and idiosyncracies begin to show up and we are working just as hard as ever, we begin to wonder why our neighbors failed to mention these problems. Could it possibly be that they are unique with us because we are incompetent when it comes to dealing with such sophisticated electronic technology'? Our paranoid attitude grows, we refuse to divulge our automated deficiencies, and they become as unmentionable as a social disease. At all cost, we must keep up our image, so to our inquiring colleagues we expound upon the advertised marvels of the system, be it for circulation, serials, cataloging, or information retrieval, and never discuss the shortcomings we have found, because we fear displaying our own inadequacies. So we go on using inept automated systems simply because we prefer to cop out instead of confronting their designers in open, constructive controversy. Maybe there should be more controversy over change. Computers have shown their capabilities and limitations in information retrieval, cataloging, serials control, acquisitions, and circulation. While they have become an integral part of our professional lives, I do not believe that automation is a necessity for every library; in fact, in some cases it could be detrimental and exceedingly expensive. New systems and methodologies, machine or manual, must realistically be evaluated in terms of increased service by the library to its clientele. Regardless of technological sophistication, any machine which does not significantly contribute to that specific aim has no place in a library. Still, old ways have a tremendous adBull. Med.
Lihr. Assoc. 66(1 )Januar 1978
THE CONTROVERSY OVER CHANGE
vantage of being familiar even if they are cumbersome, outmoded, and counterproductive. I wonder in how many of our libraries is efficient automation being bypassed because librarians cannot give up some attitudes or behavioral patterns that have been of paramount importance in the past? On the other hand, I wonder how many librarians are using automation merely for the sake of being automated? M ICROGRAPHICS
Being automated with its accompanying thrills and threats is a relatively new experience to us medical librarians, but the possibilities of miniaturization have been rattling around in our dingy, dusty corners for many years in the form of what we now call micrographics. Although microphotography was invented before the middle of the nineteenth century, libraries did not take the whole matter very seriously until the 1940s, when predictions were being made that the libraries of the future would have no bookstacks because the contents of the entire collection would be neatly tucked away in the card catalog as microcards. That would have been a profound change of revolutionary proportions had it occurred, but the book prevailed. Even now, with the introduction of microfiche and ultramicrofiche, I believe few librarians fear the reality of a microanything totally devouring the printed page. In the medical library field, we have had a sort of on-again, off-again love affair with microform. We certainly have not been its biggest fans, primarily because the majority of our clientele over the years has been microform-resistant. To many of our scientists in biomedicine and related health care fields, microfilm has been a general nuisance. Perhaps when our electronically oriented new generation takes over, this will not be the case. Viewing microfilm may become as natural as turning the pages of a book. But until that time arrives, what do we as medical librarians do about microform? The micropublishers and the micrographic producers assure us that micrographics is truly an idea whose time has come. Simultaneous publication on paper and on microfiche is in vogue, and we can, so to speak, have the best of two worlds; the hard sell is on. The potential of microform cannot be underestimated, but neither should it be overestimated as it was thirty years ago. Within our own group there are those of us who unthinkingly say yes, those of us who unthinkingly say no, and those of us who stand and wait, and while we Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1)January 1978
wait apply some good old common sense to the whole controversy, thereby avoiding "microfollies" reminiscent of our "automated follies" of past years. To have or not to have micrographics in our libraries is a fruitless dispute that at best leads to nothing more than the stress of a double bind, for there is no definitive position. Primarily, we have tended to consider acquiring microform in relation to cost or space factors, or purely for its own sake. All too frequently, we have overlooked the nature and probable use of the material and the convenience of the user as well. "Is microform an effective medium for transmitting a specific type of information in my library to my clientele?" is the fundamental question that each of us must ask himself, and obviously, the answer will vary frorn library to library and from librarian to librarian. While micrographic vendors tell us that the age of their product has come, I feel that actually it has been with us for quite some time, but that perhaps we have concentrated too heavily upon the form of micrographics instead of upon what we are trying to accomplish by using them. The producers have concentrated too little upon standardization and upon production of a first-class, low-cost microtext reader-printer. BOOKS OR AUDIOVISUALS? It is not only with microform that we encounter the medium versus message controversy. We all know that the message is predominant and that the medium merely serves a utilitarian function. But time and again in our moments of passionate, unbridled enthusiasm, this whole concept gets mixed up. The message becomes the handmaiden to the glorious medium transmitting it, and as media specialists, audiovisualists, change agents, learning facilitators, and sometimes as medical librarians we cry out, "Not by books alone!" To alter our book-oriented situation, we wade out into a sea of audiovisuals and randomly gather in whatever we can find floating along in a price range that we can afford. And so we acquire audiovisuals, hoping to free ourselves from our traditional image as keepers of books. Naturally, not all of us want to lose our traditional image. We like books, and we want to continue to keep them. In fact, we want nothing else in our libraries. We are unfamiliar with audiovisual equipment, and new-fangled electronic technology in general makes us uncomfortable; consequently we are justifiably down on what we are not up on! Again we are in a life-and-death
3
ALFRED N. BRANDON
struggle to save the book from extinction. It seems that our lives are meshed into one heroic struggle to save the book but what are we really trying to save it from? The book-the printed page-is without question the single most powerful conMmunication medium today. It is not in danger of being overwhelmed by contemporary electronic media, and it is certainly not outdated. If this is true, do we really need audiovisuals in our libraries? Ironically, in many instances we do need them because certain kinds of information can be more effectively conveyed by nonprint media. Heart or respiratory sounds can never be accurately reproduced on the printed page; for this purpose the audiotape is clearly the medium of choice. Each medium has its own unique advantages and disadvantages. For years we have been aware that learning styles differ widely; some of us are visually oriented while others are verbally oriented. A diverse media collection, books and audiovisuals, provides leeway for such learning differences. Audiovisuals should be carefully chosen for the jobs they can do and not for their dazzling technology and paraphernalia. The book is by far the best standard of comparison whenever we consider the advantages and disadvantages of audiovisuals in the transfer of information. By using the book as the criterion, we are more likely to approach the whole audiovisual controversy with a discerning eye and a level head. MANAGERS OR LIBRARIANS? It is easy to talk about levelheadedness and common sense as our best defenses against the ravages of the future-shock syndrome. It is just as easy to ignore the fact that these are two of the virtues that are most likely to disappear when we are in a sweeping cycle of technological change that is both self-perpetuating and self-accelerating. While I did not intend to philosophize, perhaps that is what I have unintentionally been doing in a somewhat facetious way. Reacting constructively to change is not easy, especially to the rapid pace of change that has beset the medical library world. There just has not been enough time to assimilate it in terms of one's own individuality. The resulting confusion and uncertainty have caused us to look outward and see how others are facing up to the challenge. Many times we then try to imitate as best we can. For this we are paying and will continue to pay the price of copied behavior. It is a very high price to pay when we as individuals become less able to
4
respond autonomously to new changes and are ready to accept uncritically solutions that others offer. Ten or fifteen years ago we thought that information scientists had all the answers we would ever need to solve the problems encountered in our profession. This was not so. We pulled back our allegiance, and now we turn our wide-eyed gaze to management scientists to give us the answers that we apparently cannot find for ourselves. We are in another of our identity crises-managers or librarians-what do we want to be? Do we really believe that if we cannot cope in our own libraries with the changing times and technologies, nonlibrarians can do the job for us? In this modern world are we not as able as any other professional group to learn, unlearn, and relearn constantly while adapting and readapting at an ever-increasing tempo? This is the challenge of change. Certainly we are competent to take on the challenge once we realize that change per se need not cause difficulty. The solution to the problem of change cannot be found in trying to turn back the clock or in trying to prevent it. Instead, we must acquire the competencies that such change demands. SPECIALIZATION One of these competencies is specialization, the offspring of scientific and technological advancement. Controversy over it has already penetrated our own profession, but specialization itself is not the controversial issue. Instead, the question is, how much specialization? Must every medical librarian be a specialist? Is the era of generalization passe? Will we follow the example of our colleagues in medicine who all but exterminated the generalist and avidly championed the superspecialist until medicine as a discipline became so badly fragmented that the human body as an entity was almost unknown? Now the cry is for the return of the general practitioner in the form of the family practice physician. We have not reached the superspecialty stage of our existence yet, and I hope we never will. However, unless we have a clear understanding of the scope of our profession as it relates to anticipated change in terms of what to expect and what to do, the emergence of a generation of medical librarians who are unable to comprehend the medical library as anything except a fragmented sum of its parts is a distinct possibility. In spite of change, we must determine early on that generalization and specialization will coexist in our profession in a middle-of-the-road pattern. There is and always will Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1 )January 1978
THE CONTROVERSY OVER CHANGE
be need for both concepts if we do not want to remain static. How do we cope.with all this change? Using tradition! Our tradition has always been to collect, organize, store, and disseminate information in the most efficient manner that the media of the times have had to offer. Some of us have carried
Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1 )January 1978
out this tradition as keepers of books while others have done it as information scientists, but the results have been the same. Today our professional lives are shaking from change, but we still have a tradition which technology cannot change-unless we let it.
5
New York Academy of Medicine New York, New York ABSTRACT The full impact of twentieth century technology upon medical libraries was first felt in the late 1950s and early 1960s with the introduction of electronic automation into library methodology. During those years, often the aura of technology for the sake of technology prevailed, and medical librarians did little to inform themselves of capabilities, potentialities, and limitations in relation to cost-effective library usage of automation. Likewise, currently microforms and audiovisuals are frequently acquired for their own sake instead of for their capacity to transmit messages in the most effective and comprehensive way possible. Controversy has raged and still rages over the pros and cons of applying modern technology to library procedures and over the coexistence of the printed page with electronic media. New systems and methodologies, machine or manual, must realistically be evaluated in terms of increased service output by the library to its clientele. Regardless of technological sophistication, any machine that does not significantly contribute to that specific aim has no place in a library. The tradition of the medical librarian has always been to collect, organize, store, and disseminate information in the most efficient manner that the media of the times have had to offer.
"BUT in this world nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes and change." This sage observation is not entirely the product of my original thinking. Neither is the rhetoric, for that matter! Nearly two hundred years ago our illustrious forefather, Benjamin Franklin, identified the first two certainties that our world has to offer us-death and taxes. However, I believe that if Franklin were with us today, he would conclude, as I have, that change is as much a certainty in this life as are death and taxes. So, I have been audacious enough to augment Franklin's original fifteen words with two of mine, "and change." For many years we swept death under the rug, and only recently have thanatologists made the subject socially acceptable and at times seemingly fashionable. Politicians are ever-present to remind us continually about the need for higher taxes, apart from election time, when they appear to *Presented June 16, 1977, at the Seventy-seventh Annual Meeting of the Medical Library Association, Seattle, Washington. Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1)January 1978
have forgotten the entire subject except as it relates to their opponents. Human change and the impact of change on humans have long been bedrock issues for psychologists, and they are always willing to tell us how well or how badly we are coping with change. However, it is not my intent to philosophize on the subjects of death, taxes, and change, for I am not a thanatologist, a politician, nor a psychologist. Instead, I would like to talk as medical librarian to medical librarian about only one of these topics-change as it has affected and is affecting our profession and each of us individually in our profession. REACTIONS TO CHANGE Change is not a new phenomenon that has suddenly beset us. For many decades, medical libraries were somehow able to evade the supercharged rate of change that was occurring in our overall maniacal technological society of the twentieth century. Change did occur within the walls of medical libraries, but it took place at a relatively leisurely rate. The printed page, the skills of the librarian, and the sanctity of the library itself could be taken for granted. So, we were able to assimilate leisurely change with resilience, a sense of control, and a minimal amount of emotion. Suddenly, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the computer invaded our libraries en masse, and we were, almost without warning, thrown into the Age of Technology screaming and shouting or blindly embracing its gods. Our resilience and sense of control were replaced by massive emotion as electronic technology penetrated the very gut of our profession. Were we ready to respond rationally to the excessive pace and the complexity of change that confronted us? Hindsight clearly shows us that we were not. Some of us took on the role of the rigid martyr who would save the book and the library from the false gods of technology, thereby saving humanity as well. We viewed all electronic advancements as satan-inspired heresies and fervently hoped they would mysteriously disappear. For us, change was
I
ALFRED N. BRANDON
frightening and the status quo was comfortable, but above all else, libraries were for librarians, books, and book lovers. Even now, many of us who took on that role probably have not completely relinquished it, and in the present-day world of MEDLINE, AVLINE, CATLINE, SERLINE, on-line, and off-line, we consider ourselves helpless victims of technological rape. Our intimate personal relationship with the book has been violated! Others of us became the avant-garde. We immediately metamorphosed from librarians to biomedical communicators, information specialists, subject analysts, and many more. Our libraries became biomedical communication centers and multimedia learning facilities. Books were of little relevance to the technologically hip, and we hoped that they would mysteriously disappear from our lives. We envisioned our working environment to be a place of cathode-ray tubes, tape decks, buttons, flashing lights, and maybe even robots pushing buttons. We felt that automation was the panacea for all library ills; microfilm the cure-all for every library space problem; and audiovisual format the answer to all learning enigmas. Even though nearly two decades have passed, are we still grasping for every gimmick on the market so that we can get it before it gets us'? To us, is change a challenge, or a threat that we somehow must conquer'? However, during this time of technological upheaval in our medical libraries, most of us took on the Miltonian philosophy of "They also serve who only stand and wait." We stood and we waited, but I am not sure whom or what we served. We did little to study, inquire, observe, or understand the capabilities, potentialities, costs, and limitations of the electronic wonders that were being presented. Instead, we went ahead too soon or stayed behind too long. For us, the pace of change was simply too fast, resulting in what has been termed "future shock." In essence, the future had arrived too soon for all of us; those who were vehemently opposed, those who were desperately in favor, and those who only stood and waited. We were embroiled in controversy, but most of it bubbled under the surface, and few of us confronted the computer controversy with an open and rational approach. Nevertheless, we have survived the initial onslaught of the computer into our libraries, not without scars, of course, but we are still here, the book is still here, and the computer is unquestionably here to stay. I do not mean to imply that 2
controversy no longer exists; it certainly does. Now tempered with hindsight, the controversy over the place and role of the computer in the medical library is more substantive, realistic, and somewhat less emotional. As we look back, we can see that many of our early decisions were made on inadequate information and that actions were taken merely as reactions to current situations without coherent planning for the future. Could history possibly be repeating itself now'? PROBLEMS OF AUTOMATION A few years ago the avant-garde of our profession capriciously succumbed to any electronic technique simply because it was there, but now, all too often, many of us blithely take on sophisticated, supposedly work-saving automated systems because our neighbors have installed them, and we feel an urgency to keep up with the library around the corner. After several months, when various quirks and idiosyncracies begin to show up and we are working just as hard as ever, we begin to wonder why our neighbors failed to mention these problems. Could it possibly be that they are unique with us because we are incompetent when it comes to dealing with such sophisticated electronic technology'? Our paranoid attitude grows, we refuse to divulge our automated deficiencies, and they become as unmentionable as a social disease. At all cost, we must keep up our image, so to our inquiring colleagues we expound upon the advertised marvels of the system, be it for circulation, serials, cataloging, or information retrieval, and never discuss the shortcomings we have found, because we fear displaying our own inadequacies. So we go on using inept automated systems simply because we prefer to cop out instead of confronting their designers in open, constructive controversy. Maybe there should be more controversy over change. Computers have shown their capabilities and limitations in information retrieval, cataloging, serials control, acquisitions, and circulation. While they have become an integral part of our professional lives, I do not believe that automation is a necessity for every library; in fact, in some cases it could be detrimental and exceedingly expensive. New systems and methodologies, machine or manual, must realistically be evaluated in terms of increased service by the library to its clientele. Regardless of technological sophistication, any machine which does not significantly contribute to that specific aim has no place in a library. Still, old ways have a tremendous adBull. Med.
Lihr. Assoc. 66(1 )Januar 1978
THE CONTROVERSY OVER CHANGE
vantage of being familiar even if they are cumbersome, outmoded, and counterproductive. I wonder in how many of our libraries is efficient automation being bypassed because librarians cannot give up some attitudes or behavioral patterns that have been of paramount importance in the past? On the other hand, I wonder how many librarians are using automation merely for the sake of being automated? M ICROGRAPHICS
Being automated with its accompanying thrills and threats is a relatively new experience to us medical librarians, but the possibilities of miniaturization have been rattling around in our dingy, dusty corners for many years in the form of what we now call micrographics. Although microphotography was invented before the middle of the nineteenth century, libraries did not take the whole matter very seriously until the 1940s, when predictions were being made that the libraries of the future would have no bookstacks because the contents of the entire collection would be neatly tucked away in the card catalog as microcards. That would have been a profound change of revolutionary proportions had it occurred, but the book prevailed. Even now, with the introduction of microfiche and ultramicrofiche, I believe few librarians fear the reality of a microanything totally devouring the printed page. In the medical library field, we have had a sort of on-again, off-again love affair with microform. We certainly have not been its biggest fans, primarily because the majority of our clientele over the years has been microform-resistant. To many of our scientists in biomedicine and related health care fields, microfilm has been a general nuisance. Perhaps when our electronically oriented new generation takes over, this will not be the case. Viewing microfilm may become as natural as turning the pages of a book. But until that time arrives, what do we as medical librarians do about microform? The micropublishers and the micrographic producers assure us that micrographics is truly an idea whose time has come. Simultaneous publication on paper and on microfiche is in vogue, and we can, so to speak, have the best of two worlds; the hard sell is on. The potential of microform cannot be underestimated, but neither should it be overestimated as it was thirty years ago. Within our own group there are those of us who unthinkingly say yes, those of us who unthinkingly say no, and those of us who stand and wait, and while we Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1)January 1978
wait apply some good old common sense to the whole controversy, thereby avoiding "microfollies" reminiscent of our "automated follies" of past years. To have or not to have micrographics in our libraries is a fruitless dispute that at best leads to nothing more than the stress of a double bind, for there is no definitive position. Primarily, we have tended to consider acquiring microform in relation to cost or space factors, or purely for its own sake. All too frequently, we have overlooked the nature and probable use of the material and the convenience of the user as well. "Is microform an effective medium for transmitting a specific type of information in my library to my clientele?" is the fundamental question that each of us must ask himself, and obviously, the answer will vary frorn library to library and from librarian to librarian. While micrographic vendors tell us that the age of their product has come, I feel that actually it has been with us for quite some time, but that perhaps we have concentrated too heavily upon the form of micrographics instead of upon what we are trying to accomplish by using them. The producers have concentrated too little upon standardization and upon production of a first-class, low-cost microtext reader-printer. BOOKS OR AUDIOVISUALS? It is not only with microform that we encounter the medium versus message controversy. We all know that the message is predominant and that the medium merely serves a utilitarian function. But time and again in our moments of passionate, unbridled enthusiasm, this whole concept gets mixed up. The message becomes the handmaiden to the glorious medium transmitting it, and as media specialists, audiovisualists, change agents, learning facilitators, and sometimes as medical librarians we cry out, "Not by books alone!" To alter our book-oriented situation, we wade out into a sea of audiovisuals and randomly gather in whatever we can find floating along in a price range that we can afford. And so we acquire audiovisuals, hoping to free ourselves from our traditional image as keepers of books. Naturally, not all of us want to lose our traditional image. We like books, and we want to continue to keep them. In fact, we want nothing else in our libraries. We are unfamiliar with audiovisual equipment, and new-fangled electronic technology in general makes us uncomfortable; consequently we are justifiably down on what we are not up on! Again we are in a life-and-death
3
ALFRED N. BRANDON
struggle to save the book from extinction. It seems that our lives are meshed into one heroic struggle to save the book but what are we really trying to save it from? The book-the printed page-is without question the single most powerful conMmunication medium today. It is not in danger of being overwhelmed by contemporary electronic media, and it is certainly not outdated. If this is true, do we really need audiovisuals in our libraries? Ironically, in many instances we do need them because certain kinds of information can be more effectively conveyed by nonprint media. Heart or respiratory sounds can never be accurately reproduced on the printed page; for this purpose the audiotape is clearly the medium of choice. Each medium has its own unique advantages and disadvantages. For years we have been aware that learning styles differ widely; some of us are visually oriented while others are verbally oriented. A diverse media collection, books and audiovisuals, provides leeway for such learning differences. Audiovisuals should be carefully chosen for the jobs they can do and not for their dazzling technology and paraphernalia. The book is by far the best standard of comparison whenever we consider the advantages and disadvantages of audiovisuals in the transfer of information. By using the book as the criterion, we are more likely to approach the whole audiovisual controversy with a discerning eye and a level head. MANAGERS OR LIBRARIANS? It is easy to talk about levelheadedness and common sense as our best defenses against the ravages of the future-shock syndrome. It is just as easy to ignore the fact that these are two of the virtues that are most likely to disappear when we are in a sweeping cycle of technological change that is both self-perpetuating and self-accelerating. While I did not intend to philosophize, perhaps that is what I have unintentionally been doing in a somewhat facetious way. Reacting constructively to change is not easy, especially to the rapid pace of change that has beset the medical library world. There just has not been enough time to assimilate it in terms of one's own individuality. The resulting confusion and uncertainty have caused us to look outward and see how others are facing up to the challenge. Many times we then try to imitate as best we can. For this we are paying and will continue to pay the price of copied behavior. It is a very high price to pay when we as individuals become less able to
4
respond autonomously to new changes and are ready to accept uncritically solutions that others offer. Ten or fifteen years ago we thought that information scientists had all the answers we would ever need to solve the problems encountered in our profession. This was not so. We pulled back our allegiance, and now we turn our wide-eyed gaze to management scientists to give us the answers that we apparently cannot find for ourselves. We are in another of our identity crises-managers or librarians-what do we want to be? Do we really believe that if we cannot cope in our own libraries with the changing times and technologies, nonlibrarians can do the job for us? In this modern world are we not as able as any other professional group to learn, unlearn, and relearn constantly while adapting and readapting at an ever-increasing tempo? This is the challenge of change. Certainly we are competent to take on the challenge once we realize that change per se need not cause difficulty. The solution to the problem of change cannot be found in trying to turn back the clock or in trying to prevent it. Instead, we must acquire the competencies that such change demands. SPECIALIZATION One of these competencies is specialization, the offspring of scientific and technological advancement. Controversy over it has already penetrated our own profession, but specialization itself is not the controversial issue. Instead, the question is, how much specialization? Must every medical librarian be a specialist? Is the era of generalization passe? Will we follow the example of our colleagues in medicine who all but exterminated the generalist and avidly championed the superspecialist until medicine as a discipline became so badly fragmented that the human body as an entity was almost unknown? Now the cry is for the return of the general practitioner in the form of the family practice physician. We have not reached the superspecialty stage of our existence yet, and I hope we never will. However, unless we have a clear understanding of the scope of our profession as it relates to anticipated change in terms of what to expect and what to do, the emergence of a generation of medical librarians who are unable to comprehend the medical library as anything except a fragmented sum of its parts is a distinct possibility. In spite of change, we must determine early on that generalization and specialization will coexist in our profession in a middle-of-the-road pattern. There is and always will Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1 )January 1978
THE CONTROVERSY OVER CHANGE
be need for both concepts if we do not want to remain static. How do we cope.with all this change? Using tradition! Our tradition has always been to collect, organize, store, and disseminate information in the most efficient manner that the media of the times have had to offer. Some of us have carried
Bull. Med. Libr. Assoc. 66(1 )January 1978
out this tradition as keepers of books while others have done it as information scientists, but the results have been the same. Today our professional lives are shaking from change, but we still have a tradition which technology cannot change-unless we let it.
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