The adventures of Monica Lewinsky have chewed up a lot of newsprint lately. Among the latest is the March 26, 1998 edition of the New York Times, which had a news item headed “Lewinsky's bookstore purchases are now subject of a subpoena.”
What interests me about all this is not so much what she did, if she did anything, with President Clinton. What interests me is the way in which behavior ordinarily considered private can become part of the rumor-mongering machinery that passes for political discourse in this country. Here I don’t even mean sex. I don’t mean the conversations taped without her consent by her alleged friend, Linda Tripp. I just mean the books she bought from a bookstore.
To prevent precisely this kind of fishing around for information about people’s reading habits, it happens that there is a Colorado state statute (24-90-119) entitled Privacy of User Records. It’s pretty brief: “Except as set forth in subsection (2) of this section, a publicly-supported library or library system shall not disclose any record or other information which identifies a person as having requested or obtained specific materials or obtained specific materials or service or as otherwise having used the library.”
The circumstances under which records may be disclosed are also brief: “reasonable operation of the library,” upon the written consent of the user, or if we get presented with a subpoena.
Note that the law does not exclude children. They are presumed to have the same rights as adults.
What’s the intent of this statute? To protect patron’s privacy. The premise is that it isn’t anybody’s business but your own what you’re reading (assuming you bring it back when you’re supposed to).
We use three examples when we train our staff on this law: a woman might be checking out a book called How to Throw Your Husband A Surprise Birthday Party. Or it might be How to Divorce Your Abusive Spouse. Or perhaps a 12 year old girl is reading a non-fiction book about incest or alcohol abuse. In any of these cases, our patrons should have the expectation that their transaction with the library is confidential, not subject to peremptory review even by spouses or parents.
Thus we’ll call to tell a family member that a book is on hold for another family member, but not say which book it is. The call is “normal operations of the library.” Not saying what the title is constitutes withholding information about “specific materials,” as specified by law.
On the other hand, most of the time families aren’t snooping into each other’s intellectual investigations. They’re just trying to be helpful. “Is anything in for my husband?” “Did I get all my daughter’s books back in?”
My staff is sometimes extremely frustrated by my refusal to make this black or white. Some would prefer that I tell them, “Under no circumstances should you reveal the information attached to a library card to anybody other than the person who has it in hand.” It would make a lot of our patrons mad, but it would be strictly according to the law, and it would be unambiguous.
Others would prefer me to direct staff to “Tell any family member anything they want to know about another family member’s library card,” arguing that although it certainly undercuts the spirit of the law, this is part of the reasonable operation of a library. And many of our patrons seem to feel this is how it ought to be.
But the truth is, the issue isn't black or white. I believe in the right to privacy. I think it’s important that librarians live up to it. I’m also dedicated to good service. Sometimes they conflict.
So I have to tell our staff to use their best judgment, knowing that no matter how good that judgment is (and it’s plenty good), sometimes there will be goof ups. But I have told them to err on the side of respect for privacy. And I will back them up if they do.
The alternative is to put all of our patrons in the same fish bowl now occupied by Monica Lewinsky.
Wednesday, April 15, 1998
Wednesday, April 8, 1998
April 8, 1998 - Staff Training
My first real library clerk job paid the whopping sum of eighty-five cents an hour. On my first day, I received about half an hour training from one of the nice older ladies who worked there.
This was a small library, with a card catalog, two tiny bookcases of new materials, and an old "Gaylord" checkout system. Every book had a card. To check it out, I put the patron's library card in the Gaylord machine, then ka-chunked in the book card to stamp it with the due date. Then, later that night, I put all the cards in call number order, and filed them under the day.
Over the course of a year or so, largely through filing the cards every night, I also learned to answer patron questions. I knew the call numbers of books on all the subjects. I knew author names and their books. This went on for four years, and I loved every minute of it.
These days, things are different, and in most respects, better. Today's computer card catalog tells you things the old card catalog didn't -- such as whether or not the book was in and when it was due back. The computer also ended three kinds of filing: cards in the catalog, cards in the patron file, and cards in the daily checkouts.
But the same invention that saved time in some areas has cost time in others. Compared to using paper, it is much faster to use a computer to create patron, books, and circulation (checkout) records. But it is also more complex. Using this information isn't quite like walking over to a particular cabinet to flip through cards. It involves a host of strategies for searching and otherwise manipulating the information in a series of interlocking databases.
So over the past several years, we've been working on developing a high quality staff training program. I just reviewed our current catalog of in-house workshops, and our current new employee orientation process.
Remember that my training consisted of half an hour. Today's DPLD employee goes through five whole days of training. For an entire work week, she starts with a trainer and computer in the morning. Then she goes to a live -- and lively! -- circulation desk, where she works with an assigned "mentor" in the afternoon. This is a big commitment of library time and resources.
But you know what? It works. By the time our new staff make it out on their own (week two), they are functioning at the level it took me almost a year to achieve at my first library job. That means more productive and confident employees. It also means better service.
The Douglas Public Library District encourages its employees to try things they wouldn't be permitted to do at other libraries, at least not without getting various educational credentials first. Our approach helps us keep staff interest high. It also brings a continuous freshness to our activities.
Some of our people that do have more formal credentials have developed in-house programs that, for instance, teach our staff reference skills, model high quality story times, give tours of our behind-the-scenes work, and otherwise share information and insight.
These days, our library is not only the People's University -- a place where any member of the public may seek self-education. It is also a Staff University, where any curious employee can explore the library environment, and find their special talents.
Both of these sure make for an interesting place to work.
This was a small library, with a card catalog, two tiny bookcases of new materials, and an old "Gaylord" checkout system. Every book had a card. To check it out, I put the patron's library card in the Gaylord machine, then ka-chunked in the book card to stamp it with the due date. Then, later that night, I put all the cards in call number order, and filed them under the day.
Over the course of a year or so, largely through filing the cards every night, I also learned to answer patron questions. I knew the call numbers of books on all the subjects. I knew author names and their books. This went on for four years, and I loved every minute of it.
These days, things are different, and in most respects, better. Today's computer card catalog tells you things the old card catalog didn't -- such as whether or not the book was in and when it was due back. The computer also ended three kinds of filing: cards in the catalog, cards in the patron file, and cards in the daily checkouts.
But the same invention that saved time in some areas has cost time in others. Compared to using paper, it is much faster to use a computer to create patron, books, and circulation (checkout) records. But it is also more complex. Using this information isn't quite like walking over to a particular cabinet to flip through cards. It involves a host of strategies for searching and otherwise manipulating the information in a series of interlocking databases.
So over the past several years, we've been working on developing a high quality staff training program. I just reviewed our current catalog of in-house workshops, and our current new employee orientation process.
Remember that my training consisted of half an hour. Today's DPLD employee goes through five whole days of training. For an entire work week, she starts with a trainer and computer in the morning. Then she goes to a live -- and lively! -- circulation desk, where she works with an assigned "mentor" in the afternoon. This is a big commitment of library time and resources.
But you know what? It works. By the time our new staff make it out on their own (week two), they are functioning at the level it took me almost a year to achieve at my first library job. That means more productive and confident employees. It also means better service.
The Douglas Public Library District encourages its employees to try things they wouldn't be permitted to do at other libraries, at least not without getting various educational credentials first. Our approach helps us keep staff interest high. It also brings a continuous freshness to our activities.
Some of our people that do have more formal credentials have developed in-house programs that, for instance, teach our staff reference skills, model high quality story times, give tours of our behind-the-scenes work, and otherwise share information and insight.
These days, our library is not only the People's University -- a place where any member of the public may seek self-education. It is also a Staff University, where any curious employee can explore the library environment, and find their special talents.
Both of these sure make for an interesting place to work.
Wednesday, April 1, 1998
April 1, 1998 - Porn Again
Recently a woman walked into one of our libraries and saw a sexually explicit image on one of our Internet workstations. The man who had called it up seemed oblivious to his surroundings.
The image deeply offended her. So she confronted the man. She even filed a complaint with the police.
Well, the police came. They determined that no crime was committed. But the man hasn't been back to the library since.
The next day, the woman called me. What was wrong with me that I hadn't authorized my staff to make the library a safe place for children? (She said a young child -- perhaps 10 or so, was wandering around unattended in the library at the time, and could have been exposed to this image.) Besides, didn't she (the woman) have a right not to be assaulted by such imagery?
Frankly, she was angry and disappointed at my response.
One of my comments was so surprising to her that she stopped to write it down. I said, "The library really doesn't have the right to tell people what they can't look at."
Another comment I didn't make but could have is that actually no one has the right not to be offended. That's the whole point to the First Amendment of the Bill of Rights. Ordinary speech (and related expression) doesn't need special protections.
People have a tendency to think the Internet raises all kinds of new issues for libraries. I'm not so sure. Fifty years ago, if a man walked into a library with a magazine (purchased at an adult book store) full of sexually explicit images, librarians did not tell him to put it away or get out. Then and now, it's legal for adults to buy such materials and legal to read them. What's new is that an Internet terminal is like a patron who holds the magazine up high, so anybody can see it. It's immature and annoying. It's even pathetic. But it's not illegal.
I try to steer our libraries by the Principle of Least Interference. It would be insufferably intrusive and arrogant of public library staff to hover over patrons' shoulders and say, "That might offend somebody, so stop it right now!"
But let me be clear about another point. I'm no happier about the importing of pornography to the library than was the woman who complained to me about it.
When the library invested in Internet connections and workstations, it was to provide access to such data as consumer guides, periodical articles, local historical information, parenting tips, and so on. We've spent a great deal of time selecting, linking to, and even creating a host of useful resources appropriate to our youngest patrons. I'm proud of what we offer, and the vast majority of the time, our Internet workstations are used just as we hoped they would be.
But let me offer two reminders. First, as we state in our "appropriate use" policies, if you do anything illegal on the Internet -- try to hack into somebody's computer, lie about your age in order to gain access to a site, view child pornography, and so on -- you can be turned over to the police.
Second, many people may not be aware that we have the ability (if not the inclination) to monitor any session. This is necessary both for internal data security and for computer troubleshooting. If people do break the law, we can provided detailed print-outs of exactly what they did.
Beyond that, I've placed, and the Library Board has approved, a time limit on the use of an Internet workstation. At any time, patron use is limited to 20 minutes. We're not too strict about it if no one appears to be waiting, but if we ask someone to move along after 20 minutes, then they do have to do that. This seems to us a far less heavy-handed way to control the use of a public resource.
Finally, if someone is in fact bothered by something a patron is looking it, and lets our staff know about it, we will indeed request a patron to amend his or her behavior, to be considerate of others.
But as difficult as some patrons may find this to be, any public place is "dangerous" in that we cannot guarantee the mental stability of some of the people who congregate there. Our staff act swiftly to protect the physical well-being of our patrons. But no place is truly "safe." If parents drop off their child at the library unattended, they take the same risk they would take if they abandoned him or her at the Park Meadows Mall. It's a sad truth of modern life.
Given that this column is running near April Fool's Day, I'm tempted to say that our solution will be to just take control of any Internet terminal that brings up naughty bits, and automatically transfer the person to Disney (www.disney.com), or perhaps Focus on the Family (www.fotf.org). Hmm. Maybe that's not so foolish after all.
If it happens to you, don't say you weren't warned.
The image deeply offended her. So she confronted the man. She even filed a complaint with the police.
Well, the police came. They determined that no crime was committed. But the man hasn't been back to the library since.
The next day, the woman called me. What was wrong with me that I hadn't authorized my staff to make the library a safe place for children? (She said a young child -- perhaps 10 or so, was wandering around unattended in the library at the time, and could have been exposed to this image.) Besides, didn't she (the woman) have a right not to be assaulted by such imagery?
Frankly, she was angry and disappointed at my response.
One of my comments was so surprising to her that she stopped to write it down. I said, "The library really doesn't have the right to tell people what they can't look at."
Another comment I didn't make but could have is that actually no one has the right not to be offended. That's the whole point to the First Amendment of the Bill of Rights. Ordinary speech (and related expression) doesn't need special protections.
People have a tendency to think the Internet raises all kinds of new issues for libraries. I'm not so sure. Fifty years ago, if a man walked into a library with a magazine (purchased at an adult book store) full of sexually explicit images, librarians did not tell him to put it away or get out. Then and now, it's legal for adults to buy such materials and legal to read them. What's new is that an Internet terminal is like a patron who holds the magazine up high, so anybody can see it. It's immature and annoying. It's even pathetic. But it's not illegal.
I try to steer our libraries by the Principle of Least Interference. It would be insufferably intrusive and arrogant of public library staff to hover over patrons' shoulders and say, "That might offend somebody, so stop it right now!"
But let me be clear about another point. I'm no happier about the importing of pornography to the library than was the woman who complained to me about it.
When the library invested in Internet connections and workstations, it was to provide access to such data as consumer guides, periodical articles, local historical information, parenting tips, and so on. We've spent a great deal of time selecting, linking to, and even creating a host of useful resources appropriate to our youngest patrons. I'm proud of what we offer, and the vast majority of the time, our Internet workstations are used just as we hoped they would be.
But let me offer two reminders. First, as we state in our "appropriate use" policies, if you do anything illegal on the Internet -- try to hack into somebody's computer, lie about your age in order to gain access to a site, view child pornography, and so on -- you can be turned over to the police.
Second, many people may not be aware that we have the ability (if not the inclination) to monitor any session. This is necessary both for internal data security and for computer troubleshooting. If people do break the law, we can provided detailed print-outs of exactly what they did.
Beyond that, I've placed, and the Library Board has approved, a time limit on the use of an Internet workstation. At any time, patron use is limited to 20 minutes. We're not too strict about it if no one appears to be waiting, but if we ask someone to move along after 20 minutes, then they do have to do that. This seems to us a far less heavy-handed way to control the use of a public resource.
Finally, if someone is in fact bothered by something a patron is looking it, and lets our staff know about it, we will indeed request a patron to amend his or her behavior, to be considerate of others.
But as difficult as some patrons may find this to be, any public place is "dangerous" in that we cannot guarantee the mental stability of some of the people who congregate there. Our staff act swiftly to protect the physical well-being of our patrons. But no place is truly "safe." If parents drop off their child at the library unattended, they take the same risk they would take if they abandoned him or her at the Park Meadows Mall. It's a sad truth of modern life.
Given that this column is running near April Fool's Day, I'm tempted to say that our solution will be to just take control of any Internet terminal that brings up naughty bits, and automatically transfer the person to Disney (www.disney.com), or perhaps Focus on the Family (www.fotf.org). Hmm. Maybe that's not so foolish after all.
If it happens to you, don't say you weren't warned.
Wednesday, March 25, 1998
March 25, 1998 - Service to Daycares
I don't get many complaints about the library. But when I do, I'm mostly grateful. Complaints are useful. Sometimes they point up areas of my own ignorance. Sometimes they highlight a shift in public use or attitudes. Sometimes they just give me the opportunity to fix something that went wrong.
This week -- between a full moon on Friday the 13th and the Equinox (which may not mean anything, but does feel inauspicious) -- I got two complaints on the same day. Both of them got to me, bothered me in a way that doesn't usually happen.
The first complaint involved a daycare provider who was very unhappy about our procedures regarding story times. She thought they discriminated against daycares.
She's right.
As we explain in one of our brochures ("Group Visits to the Library") we design our story times for general public visits. Usually, that means moms and a couple of kids apiece. We did not design them for large crowds.
Probably our average story time attendance is 15 pre-school kids, of various ages. When it gets much larger than 15 children, the quality of the program suffers.
Sometimes we reach the point when week after week 30 kids are showing up. Then we try to split it up, offer an additional program. So some week days we just have one children's story time. Some days we have two. Most of our libraries average 5 a week.
This is in sharp contrast, incidentally, to other libraries in the area, who limit the number of their programs to one or two a week. They also require parents to register their children for the programs well in advance, and once a certain number is hit, children are denied admittance.
It used to be that we didn't mind if daycare centers moseyed in, too. They brought another 15 children or so. But then we noticed that the regular moms started keeping their kids away. There was just too much pandemonium.
So our staff had a long talk. Just who were these programs for? The "general public?" -- moms and their children -- or for-profit businesses? Given the number of people on the staff, the number of hours in the day, and the demands on the rest of the library, we couldn't do both.
Part of my job is to determine priorities, to match up public needs with available resources. I chose to support the general public, not companies in the business of childcare.
So we told daycare centers that we would be happy to provide the occasional special program or a library tour. But we would need at least 2 weeks notice for such special programs, and we couldn't offer them weekly. We would also try to recruit a volunteer to go right to the daycare center and read.
What bothered me about this? I heartily approve of children being read to, and the desire of childcare centers to get children to the library. We really don't like to turn anybody down for service. It's particularly difficult to turn down a local constituency.
Yet I believe that in the long run, to pretend that we can serve both our individual and corporate customers, even when those demands conflict, is dishonest. We must choose. I have chosen the individual. Our policies, I believe, are correct.
But I've been wrong before. If you disagree, let me know. My phone number is 668-5742. Or e-mail me at jaslarue@earthlink.net. And let me know if you're an individual, or represent a daycare center.
Next week: a complaint about the Internet, pornography, and the "right" not to be offended.
This week -- between a full moon on Friday the 13th and the Equinox (which may not mean anything, but does feel inauspicious) -- I got two complaints on the same day. Both of them got to me, bothered me in a way that doesn't usually happen.
The first complaint involved a daycare provider who was very unhappy about our procedures regarding story times. She thought they discriminated against daycares.
She's right.
As we explain in one of our brochures ("Group Visits to the Library") we design our story times for general public visits. Usually, that means moms and a couple of kids apiece. We did not design them for large crowds.
Probably our average story time attendance is 15 pre-school kids, of various ages. When it gets much larger than 15 children, the quality of the program suffers.
Sometimes we reach the point when week after week 30 kids are showing up. Then we try to split it up, offer an additional program. So some week days we just have one children's story time. Some days we have two. Most of our libraries average 5 a week.
This is in sharp contrast, incidentally, to other libraries in the area, who limit the number of their programs to one or two a week. They also require parents to register their children for the programs well in advance, and once a certain number is hit, children are denied admittance.
It used to be that we didn't mind if daycare centers moseyed in, too. They brought another 15 children or so. But then we noticed that the regular moms started keeping their kids away. There was just too much pandemonium.
So our staff had a long talk. Just who were these programs for? The "general public?" -- moms and their children -- or for-profit businesses? Given the number of people on the staff, the number of hours in the day, and the demands on the rest of the library, we couldn't do both.
Part of my job is to determine priorities, to match up public needs with available resources. I chose to support the general public, not companies in the business of childcare.
So we told daycare centers that we would be happy to provide the occasional special program or a library tour. But we would need at least 2 weeks notice for such special programs, and we couldn't offer them weekly. We would also try to recruit a volunteer to go right to the daycare center and read.
What bothered me about this? I heartily approve of children being read to, and the desire of childcare centers to get children to the library. We really don't like to turn anybody down for service. It's particularly difficult to turn down a local constituency.
Yet I believe that in the long run, to pretend that we can serve both our individual and corporate customers, even when those demands conflict, is dishonest. We must choose. I have chosen the individual. Our policies, I believe, are correct.
But I've been wrong before. If you disagree, let me know. My phone number is 668-5742. Or e-mail me at jaslarue@earthlink.net. And let me know if you're an individual, or represent a daycare center.
Next week: a complaint about the Internet, pornography, and the "right" not to be offended.
Wednesday, March 18, 1998
March 18, 1998 - Family Literacy
I get irritated by the assertion of some schools that their job is to teach kids how to think. I'm quite certain that I was thinking before I attended school. The real surprise is that even after almost 2 decades of schooling, I can STILL muster a thought, if I work at it.
But the purpose of this week's column isn't to say what America's schools should or should not be doing. It's to focus on just four things YOU can do to help your kids grow up literate.
1. Read. The most powerful contribution you can make to your children's literacy is to model literate behavior. Subscribe to, and read, at least a couple of newspapers. Take a magazine or two, and make a big deal about looking forward to it. Join a book club.
Or, if you don't want the hassle of renewal notices and their consequent financial burden, make a big deal of going to the library. Regularly. You've already paid your membership, you get to take all the books and magazines you want, and you don't have to find a permanent place for them at home.
If you want to put even more time into this, consider joining or running a book club. You might even sign up to be an adult literacy tutor (841-4257).
2. Read to your kids. This is particularly important when they are young, but can continue (to great mutual satisfaction) well into the teens.
Many years ago, I did a "read-a-thon" at a suburban mall. A labyrinth of librarians camped out in the mall and pretty much kidnapped small children as they passed by. Then we read them some short classics ("Cat in the Hat," etc.). Without really thinking about it, I hoisted one young boy, about the age of my daughter at the time (2), and plunked him in my lap.
Then I opened the book in front of him. Immediately, I realized that something was strange. This boy didn't know where to look! It took him almost half a book to figure it out. You turn the page and start on the left, follow it down to the bottom, then go to the right. His mother watched from the sidelines with total amazement. I got through two books, and the boy was not especially eager to leave. The mother said to me, "I had no idea he was ready!"
"Was he ready to go to the mall?" I wondered.
Think about how you define yourself to your children. Shopper? Or reader?
Here's another observation. Many, many books, when read feelingly by parents, communicate through simple stories the powerful lesson of empathy, of putting yourself in somebody's else's shoes. These lessons "take" best when children are very young. There is no better preventive strategy against sociopathy, and in favor of civility. Reading aloud is also a terrific alternative to TV. Try it. And get your kids to read their favorite books aloud to you.
3. For older kids, ask about their homework. And pursue it, because most kids seem not able to talk about their day without some patient prodding. Ask to see their textbooks. Ask to read their papers. Ask them to talk about the things they're supposed to be learning. Genuine interest in what your kids are up to sends at least three messages: (a) I love to talk to you about your life, (b) I love to learn myself, and (c) education is important.
4. Show your kids what to do when you don't know what to do. Do you call other members of your family? Consult friends or business acquaintances? Do you pay for an expert opinion? Or do you give your library a call or visit?
Your local public library has assembled some quarter of a million volumes, just to answer your questions. We have quick access to many millions more, and countless databases.
Ignorance is almost the defining characteristic of humanity. The question is, what happens next?
Again, none of the above will guarantee that your child fulfills whatever academic ambitions you're nursing. But it will guarantee that a book is not utterly foreign, and that your children have a clue about how to find out about things they don't know now.
Altogether, that adds up -- or can -- to a pretty good education.
Incidentally, that decision, ultimately, doesn't belong to the parent or to the school. It belongs to the child.
But the purpose of this week's column isn't to say what America's schools should or should not be doing. It's to focus on just four things YOU can do to help your kids grow up literate.
1. Read. The most powerful contribution you can make to your children's literacy is to model literate behavior. Subscribe to, and read, at least a couple of newspapers. Take a magazine or two, and make a big deal about looking forward to it. Join a book club.
Or, if you don't want the hassle of renewal notices and their consequent financial burden, make a big deal of going to the library. Regularly. You've already paid your membership, you get to take all the books and magazines you want, and you don't have to find a permanent place for them at home.
If you want to put even more time into this, consider joining or running a book club. You might even sign up to be an adult literacy tutor (841-4257).
2. Read to your kids. This is particularly important when they are young, but can continue (to great mutual satisfaction) well into the teens.
Many years ago, I did a "read-a-thon" at a suburban mall. A labyrinth of librarians camped out in the mall and pretty much kidnapped small children as they passed by. Then we read them some short classics ("Cat in the Hat," etc.). Without really thinking about it, I hoisted one young boy, about the age of my daughter at the time (2), and plunked him in my lap.
Then I opened the book in front of him. Immediately, I realized that something was strange. This boy didn't know where to look! It took him almost half a book to figure it out. You turn the page and start on the left, follow it down to the bottom, then go to the right. His mother watched from the sidelines with total amazement. I got through two books, and the boy was not especially eager to leave. The mother said to me, "I had no idea he was ready!"
"Was he ready to go to the mall?" I wondered.
Think about how you define yourself to your children. Shopper? Or reader?
Here's another observation. Many, many books, when read feelingly by parents, communicate through simple stories the powerful lesson of empathy, of putting yourself in somebody's else's shoes. These lessons "take" best when children are very young. There is no better preventive strategy against sociopathy, and in favor of civility. Reading aloud is also a terrific alternative to TV. Try it. And get your kids to read their favorite books aloud to you.
3. For older kids, ask about their homework. And pursue it, because most kids seem not able to talk about their day without some patient prodding. Ask to see their textbooks. Ask to read their papers. Ask them to talk about the things they're supposed to be learning. Genuine interest in what your kids are up to sends at least three messages: (a) I love to talk to you about your life, (b) I love to learn myself, and (c) education is important.
4. Show your kids what to do when you don't know what to do. Do you call other members of your family? Consult friends or business acquaintances? Do you pay for an expert opinion? Or do you give your library a call or visit?
Your local public library has assembled some quarter of a million volumes, just to answer your questions. We have quick access to many millions more, and countless databases.
Ignorance is almost the defining characteristic of humanity. The question is, what happens next?
Again, none of the above will guarantee that your child fulfills whatever academic ambitions you're nursing. But it will guarantee that a book is not utterly foreign, and that your children have a clue about how to find out about things they don't know now.
Altogether, that adds up -- or can -- to a pretty good education.
Incidentally, that decision, ultimately, doesn't belong to the parent or to the school. It belongs to the child.
Wednesday, March 11, 1998
March 11, 1998 - Testifying at the Legislature
Recently I spent most of an afternoon sitting in a Colorado House Committee hearing.
Under consideration was a bill concerning the Internet (Senate Bill 49). The bill’s intent -- at one point, anyhow -- was to forbid any kind of Colorado government from taxing or placing any other fees or charges on business conducted over the World Wide Web. Denver is one of the “hot spots” right now for Internet providers. The bill’s sponsor believes that if we don’t hold off on taxes and charges, we’ll stifle this fledgling industry. Some industry observers predict that by the year 2000, as much as $372 billion dollars of sales will be conducted over the ’net. It’s in Colorado’s interest to encourage such growth in the state.
Librarians got interested in this because some of us use a service called Uncover. Uncover allows library patrons to search for various magazine and newspapers articles. That part of the service is free. But if the patron requests delivery of the text of the article -- either to a computer screen, to a fax, or to a regular mailbox -- Uncover charges a fee, part of which covers copyrights costs, part of which keeps Uncover in business.
What some libraries do is pay for the delivery, then recover the cost from the patron. If the bill had passed in its original form, most libraries would simply have stopped providing the service. They couldn’t afford it. I went to the hearing to explain all that.
The day before the hearing, I heard that an amended version of the bill exempted publicly-funded libraries, expressly permitting such “pass through” charges. But such things change.
In fact, the whole bill changed. The version considered by the committee just prohibited state, county, municipal or other districts from taxing Internet access subscriptions -- such as an America Online account.
After testimony (AGAINST by the Colorado Municipal League, and FOR by US West), the bill was approved by the committee. Having already passed the Senate, the bill now goes to the House. Because the law really didn’t affect libraries at all anymore, I never did have to speak.
So on the one hand, I wasted a whole afternoon. On the other hand, I got a closer look at just how laws come into being.
It’s sobering. One line in one bill can have sweeping and often wholly unsuspected consequences. Based on my observations to date, most legislators really do want to pass good laws, hence the whole elaborate process for allowing interested parties to speak about how a particular law might affect them. Legislators need such information.
But what’s most impressive about the process is how open it all is. You want a copy of a bill? It’s free, on paper across the street from the Capitol, or electronically from the State (http://www.state.co.us/gov_dir/stateleg.html). You want to know the status of a bill (which committee it’s in, when it’s scheduled for the next action)? That’s all freely available in several formats, too.
You want to sit in on the deliberations? Pull up a chair!
You have something to say about a bill? Sign up for some time, and all you have to do is speak concisely and politely. Most people do, too.
This openness, of course, carries over to public libraries. Perhaps the defining characteristic of our county is the average citizen’s extraordinary access to information about almost everything.
But just as a book does no good if no one reads it, government does no good if real citizens never get involved.
If you’re interested in knowing more about what YOUR representatives are doing, a good place to start is the Douglas Public Library District’s web site, “Making Democracy Work". Developed in cooperation with the Douglas County League of Women Voters, the web pages link to remarkably comprehensive and current information.
The framers of our Constitution envisioned an “informed electorate.” It takes some work -- but it’s worth it.
Under consideration was a bill concerning the Internet (Senate Bill 49). The bill’s intent -- at one point, anyhow -- was to forbid any kind of Colorado government from taxing or placing any other fees or charges on business conducted over the World Wide Web. Denver is one of the “hot spots” right now for Internet providers. The bill’s sponsor believes that if we don’t hold off on taxes and charges, we’ll stifle this fledgling industry. Some industry observers predict that by the year 2000, as much as $372 billion dollars of sales will be conducted over the ’net. It’s in Colorado’s interest to encourage such growth in the state.
Librarians got interested in this because some of us use a service called Uncover. Uncover allows library patrons to search for various magazine and newspapers articles. That part of the service is free. But if the patron requests delivery of the text of the article -- either to a computer screen, to a fax, or to a regular mailbox -- Uncover charges a fee, part of which covers copyrights costs, part of which keeps Uncover in business.
What some libraries do is pay for the delivery, then recover the cost from the patron. If the bill had passed in its original form, most libraries would simply have stopped providing the service. They couldn’t afford it. I went to the hearing to explain all that.
The day before the hearing, I heard that an amended version of the bill exempted publicly-funded libraries, expressly permitting such “pass through” charges. But such things change.
In fact, the whole bill changed. The version considered by the committee just prohibited state, county, municipal or other districts from taxing Internet access subscriptions -- such as an America Online account.
After testimony (AGAINST by the Colorado Municipal League, and FOR by US West), the bill was approved by the committee. Having already passed the Senate, the bill now goes to the House. Because the law really didn’t affect libraries at all anymore, I never did have to speak.
So on the one hand, I wasted a whole afternoon. On the other hand, I got a closer look at just how laws come into being.
It’s sobering. One line in one bill can have sweeping and often wholly unsuspected consequences. Based on my observations to date, most legislators really do want to pass good laws, hence the whole elaborate process for allowing interested parties to speak about how a particular law might affect them. Legislators need such information.
But what’s most impressive about the process is how open it all is. You want a copy of a bill? It’s free, on paper across the street from the Capitol, or electronically from the State (http://www.state.co.us/gov_dir/stateleg.html). You want to know the status of a bill (which committee it’s in, when it’s scheduled for the next action)? That’s all freely available in several formats, too.
You want to sit in on the deliberations? Pull up a chair!
You have something to say about a bill? Sign up for some time, and all you have to do is speak concisely and politely. Most people do, too.
This openness, of course, carries over to public libraries. Perhaps the defining characteristic of our county is the average citizen’s extraordinary access to information about almost everything.
But just as a book does no good if no one reads it, government does no good if real citizens never get involved.
If you’re interested in knowing more about what YOUR representatives are doing, a good place to start is the Douglas Public Library District’s web site, “Making Democracy Work". Developed in cooperation with the Douglas County League of Women Voters, the web pages link to remarkably comprehensive and current information.
The framers of our Constitution envisioned an “informed electorate.” It takes some work -- but it’s worth it.
Wednesday, March 4, 1998
March 4, 1998 - Lying on Surveys
I hate to admit this so soon after Washington’s birthday, but I’ve decided that I cannot tell the truth.
It started when I got three “survey” phone calls in two days. The first was at work. Someone was calling to ask for the name of the person who orders our computer supplies. It wasn’t a sales call, he explained. He was just updating his company’s database.
My second call was at home. This person wanted to know about some consumer and marketing issues. Did I drive a foreign or domestic car? What year was it? What was my most recent major appliance purchase? Computer purchase?
The final call, also at home, was allegedly a political survey. Did I think it should be a crime to commit an abortion unless the mother’s life was in danger? Was I opposed to any tax increase, particularly if it had anything to do with education? And so on.
Call me paranoid, but let me cycle through those calls again.
* Updating the database. Exactly this sort of thing was how several libraries got caught in a photocopier toner scam. The first call, giving a fictitious company name, gets the name of the person who has authority to make purchases. Then a box of toner (cost: $612) shows up, with that authorized person’s name on the invoice. Accept the box, you accept the purchase.
* Consumer calls. We have two players here: the owner, and the thief. Thief: “Got anything worth stealing?” Owner: “Let me run through the list for you!”
* Political survey. Take your pick. Call up, at home, all the public officials you have suspicions about, and grill them on whatever your issues might be.
It’s all perfectly legal. Ask people a question on the phone, and they are often so flattered that anybody even cares about their opinion, they’re liable to give it. They don’t even ask who you are, or what purpose you intend to put the knowledge to. Nor do you have any idea, as recent national news sources have hammered home, if the call is being recorded, or with whom it may be shared.
On the one hand, it’s kind of nice that most of us are trusting enough, believe in the benevolence of the universe enough, that we’ll bare our souls to total strangers.
But anymore, I’m not one of them. If somebody I don’t know calls me on the phone and launches into an inquisition of my private possessions or values, I ... lie.
What’s the name of our order person? Hieronymous Jones. Let me spell that for you.
What’s my latest appliance purchase? A toaster. I got it a garage sale in 1976, I think. It doesn’t work very well.
My political perspective? I believe in the right to privacy, in the inalienable right to keep my opinions to myself when I don’t know anything about who’s asking for them.
Oops! Told the truth that time! Working at a public library, you get into the habit.
It started when I got three “survey” phone calls in two days. The first was at work. Someone was calling to ask for the name of the person who orders our computer supplies. It wasn’t a sales call, he explained. He was just updating his company’s database.
My second call was at home. This person wanted to know about some consumer and marketing issues. Did I drive a foreign or domestic car? What year was it? What was my most recent major appliance purchase? Computer purchase?
The final call, also at home, was allegedly a political survey. Did I think it should be a crime to commit an abortion unless the mother’s life was in danger? Was I opposed to any tax increase, particularly if it had anything to do with education? And so on.
Call me paranoid, but let me cycle through those calls again.
* Updating the database. Exactly this sort of thing was how several libraries got caught in a photocopier toner scam. The first call, giving a fictitious company name, gets the name of the person who has authority to make purchases. Then a box of toner (cost: $612) shows up, with that authorized person’s name on the invoice. Accept the box, you accept the purchase.
* Consumer calls. We have two players here: the owner, and the thief. Thief: “Got anything worth stealing?” Owner: “Let me run through the list for you!”
* Political survey. Take your pick. Call up, at home, all the public officials you have suspicions about, and grill them on whatever your issues might be.
It’s all perfectly legal. Ask people a question on the phone, and they are often so flattered that anybody even cares about their opinion, they’re liable to give it. They don’t even ask who you are, or what purpose you intend to put the knowledge to. Nor do you have any idea, as recent national news sources have hammered home, if the call is being recorded, or with whom it may be shared.
On the one hand, it’s kind of nice that most of us are trusting enough, believe in the benevolence of the universe enough, that we’ll bare our souls to total strangers.
But anymore, I’m not one of them. If somebody I don’t know calls me on the phone and launches into an inquisition of my private possessions or values, I ... lie.
What’s the name of our order person? Hieronymous Jones. Let me spell that for you.
What’s my latest appliance purchase? A toaster. I got it a garage sale in 1976, I think. It doesn’t work very well.
My political perspective? I believe in the right to privacy, in the inalienable right to keep my opinions to myself when I don’t know anything about who’s asking for them.
Oops! Told the truth that time! Working at a public library, you get into the habit.
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