I’ve been reading a number of interesting posts on the “training-wheels culture” from Dorothea Salo, Nicole Engard, and Emily Clasper. As I’ve been doing a lot of teaching — both online and in-person workshops — it’s an issue I’ve also been thinking a lot about on my own. During the InfoPeople courses (two sections of the same course) I taught in August and September, I had a number of people ask me for things that I really thought they should be able to figure out on their own. Some people tried stuff and were unable to figure it out and then e-mailed me for help. That’s fine; it’s what I’m there for. But to not even try to do the thing you’re e-mailing me about before you e-mail me is just silly. There are a lot of librarians out there who for whatever reason are not willing to just try things out (or look things up) on their own. And what I really find most frustrating about this is that I don’t know why.
Dorothea largely sees this as a cultural issue in our profession:
Librarians are a timorous breed, fearful of ignorance and failure. We believe knowledge is power, which taken to an unhealthy extreme can mean that we do not do anything until we think we understand everything. We do not learn by doing, because learning by doing invariably means failure. So a librarian just won’t sit down with AACR2, Connexions, and the AUTOCAT mailing-list archive and work out how to catalogue a novel item. Nor she won’t sit down at the computer and beat software with rocks until it works.
Maybe she’s right; I’m not really sure. There definitely is a lot of risk aversion in this profession. I think we’re getting better, but a lot of libraries do not create an environment where people feel comfortable failing. I would not be able to do my job were that the case and I have learned much more from my failures than from my successes. That culture can make people feel like they need to put out a perfect product every time, which leads to people not trying at all if they think there’s a chance things won’t be perfect. But I think it’s more than that. Why do some people feel like they can’t learn something unless it’s literally handed to them? Why can’t people look things up or just — as Dorothea says — “beat software with rocks until it works?”
We talk a lot about diverse learning styles and being sensitive to those styles. I’m someone who doesn’t learn well by reading step-by-step instructions. I learn by seeing someone do something or by trying to do it myself. I remember in math class once, I came up with my own way of solving certain problems. While I’d always come to the correct answer, I’d get points taken off (remember, in math class you always had to show your work) because it wasn’t the way we were taught in the book. This is just the way I am. I learn in my own way. And I’ve been wondering if maybe this has something to do with learning styles. Maybe some people just can’t go into a wiki and learn how to use it. Maybe they need a facilitator around to show them how things are done before they feel comfortable doing it themselves. And if that’s the case, then should we really be pushing them to learn in a way that runs counter to their own learning style? Should we be like my math teacher who penalized me for learning in a different way?
Maybe it’s a simple lack of interest. I can understand why a lot of people don’t learn certain things that aren’t important to them. There are plenty of things in this world I know nothing about because they’re not a priority for me. And not every librarian needs to know all that much about technology. So perhaps a lack of interest is to blame in some cases. But what about those who are taking technology classes? Obviously the interest is there, so why are they not willing to go the extra mile and just try to figure something out on their own?
In an average day, I spend a lot of time looking things up for/with students. That’s a big part of what we do as librarians; help people with their research. So when I find a librarian in a class asking me for a glossary of terms that some of the participants don’t recognize from my lecture, I have to shake my head a bit. We are all librarians right? Anything I discussed in my social software class could easily be looked up in Google or the Wikipedia and it would take less time to do that than to e-mail me with the question. I used to read above my grade level as a child, and there were frequently words I’d encounter that I didn’t know. I guess I could have just read on and ignored those words, but instead, I looked them up. I didn’t expect someone to explain it for me. I can understand not looking it up if you’re not interested in knowing what it means. But if you are interested, why would you not just look it up yourself?
The thing that concerns me most about this learning style or culture or lack of curiosity is what it means for their future in implementing technologies. Whether this is a learning style issue or not, librarians are doing themselves (and their library and their patrons) no favors when they take no responsibility for their own learning. If someone can’t figure out (or be bothered to figure out) how to subscribe to RSS feeds in an aggregator without explicit instructions from their instructor, will they be able to evaluate and implement technologies at their library? Will they be able to keep up on their own as technologies change? Will they be able to learn how to use the new things that come along without a class? I think Dorothea’s right that this external locus of control with respect to technology will get librarians nowhere. If we abdicate all responsibility for understanding and maintaining technologies to IT, do we really have any right to complain when we don’t get things the way we want them? Without curiosity, without a willingness to at least try to make something happen before we ask for help, we are going to be dead in the water once we leave that class. Because we won’t always have a facilitator there to offer instruction and advice.
I really want to understand what is at the root of this training-wheels culture, because we can’t combat it until we understand the cause(s). What do you think it is? Cultural? Laziness? Lack of interest? A difference in learning styles? I’d be curious to see what you all think might be the cause of this, because honestly, I don’t have a clue.
I was one of those kids who never wanted to take off the training-wheels or the water wings. I liked my comfort zone. I was a rather fearful child, and I’m lucky that I had people who pushed me to do things that scared me. That’s why I feel I’m doing people a disservice when I define a term for them or give them explicit instructions on how to do something. Because learning how to find the answer is even more important than what they actually accomplished in the task. Once you know how to tinker with technologies, once you know how to find documentation, once you know how to look something up… you’ve developed skills that will make you a better librarian in the future. If I teach you exactly how to subscribe to an RSS feed in an aggregator or exactly what you need to do to install MediaWiki, all you’ve gained from that is a collection of RSS feeds and a wiki. While there’s nothing wrong with asking for help if you get stuck, for way too many people, their first reaction is to ask for help before they’ve even tried. And that path will never lead to true lasting learning.
As instructors and trainers, I believe we are doing our best work when we can push people to take off their training-wheels, because we are helping them to become better life-long learners. So next time someone asks you for an answer they should probably be finding themselves, think about what you’re really teaching them if you give them the answer.
This post is right on.
I drives me crazy when other librarians ask me when they could easily look up the answer.
In some cases there is a lack of curiosity that I don’t understand.
Maybe this is harsh, but… at some point one’s “learning style” isn’t an excuse any more. I’m an off-the-charts visual and verbal learner. But I can’t learn technical stuff ab initio from books; I wish I could, but I can’t.
Still, I learn technical stuff all the time, because I don’t have the luxury of coddling myself. This means a lot of “argh, why doesn’t this make SENSE?!” frustration. Too bad for me.
Maybe that’s part of it, come to think of it. Librarianship is predicated on saving other people frustration and uncertainty (however badly we sometimes live those values, especially as regards Things Digital), so we don’t learn to tolerate and work past them as much as we perhaps should.
Anyway, to my mind, “learning style” and initiative are at least somewhat orthogonal. One can teach oneself useful skills in any number of learning modalities.
If one learns by listening, there’s no shortage of podcasts. If written tutorials and examples stick, the Web is full of ’em, and O’Reilly’s Cookbook series prods serious buttock — if they have a Cookbook out on a tech I’m using, I buy it sight unseen.
If interaction is what works, then you buy a technical friend lots of pizza in return for being able to hit her up over IM. (I owe Tim Donohue one heck of a lot of pizza, as he is my DSpace backstop.)
But you don’t sit around waiting for “training” before you make a single move. That’s bogus. Frankly, training works better if you’ve poked around a bit first!
As is usually the case there is some truth in these complaints, as regards some people. But Dorothea’s analysis–which I quite like actually–is a serious overgeneralization, as are the others.
The answers–yes, there are many–are all pretty much in your post, Meredith. We all learn differently, and we learn different things in different ways, some of us are timid, some of us just like being told the answer, some need step-by-step, some need demonstration, some need to bang away with rocks by themselves, some of us have different interests and priorities, …, ad nauseum.
Again, while there is some kernel of truth as regards some people in the complaints in those posts, what I would like an answer to is why librarians are having an issue with people asking questions? Seriously, why are librarians questioning other librarians asking questions?
Some people will never learn much if they are spoon fed, this is true. But most human babies are spoon fed and the vast majority of those grow up to feed themselves. Perhaps a bit of hand holding at the beginning–so they have a few early successes–might encourage some of these folks to strike out on a little self-learning.
My other question centers around why in the heck do some of these librarians assume that everyone has the same priorities and interests that they do? Even someone who needs to know something may not be so interested. We can discuss ethical and professional responsibility in some of those cases, but that is (somewhat) tangential.
I am taking a Python class this semester because as much as I detest programming (I was an applied computer science major become minor in undergrad) I realize that I need to know some of this stuff. This doesn’t imply that I am doing every exercise at the end of each chapter like some of my classmates (it is not homework). In fact, I am doing pretty much the minimal required because I have other priorities in my life that are far more important to me at the moment. I regret somewhat not working harder at Python and perhaps writing some far more complex programs than I am, but I am meeting the requirements.
Others can judge me harshly if they want. I could care less actually. But perhaps some day one of these folks or someone else will need/want to ask me about the impact of theories of linguistics and semantics on KO and IR. You can bet I won’t be grumbling about how they ought to go read the several dozen books and scores of articles I have. I will try and answer their questions and if they are truly interested I will gladly point them to some incredible resources.
Again, I admit that there are some librarians who definitely have problems with their approaches (or non-approaches, if you will) to learning. But there is an awful lot of “preaching” in the biblioblogosphere lately about those “others.” Certainly not a good way to bring anyone on board. As I said at the end of one of my recent posts: Veiled name-calling, belittling, “just get on board,” and “my way is the right way” are not disagreement and they are certainly not discussion. They are condescending, they are threatening, and they are wrong.
A little nuance goes a long way.
One thing I am learning from these posts is that there are some subject matter experts out there who I most likely won’t be asking questions of should I ever have the need.
Now I’m off to happily answer some questions from a librarian….
think of all the people you know that buy into the “training-wheels culture”
Picture them in your head
How old are they? How close are they to retirement? How many times have they told you they can’t wait to retire.
2 words – BABY BOOMERS. They’ll all be gone soon and we won’t need to worry about this any longer.
Well, I certainly was never one of those people who has passed judgment on “others”. I never assume that I know better, which is why I wrote this as a question more than an answer.
I frequently get e-mails from students asking me to find them the 8 resources they need on their topic for their paper. Well, that’s part of their assignment; I’m not going to do their research for them. So instead of sending them resources, I offer them instruction. I suggest the best databases to search, I offer tips on coming up with keywords to use in their search queries, etc. I don’t write to them and say “I won’t do your work for you” or “do it yourself” but I offer instruction that will allow them to do it themselves. If I simply gave them the resources, what would they do for their next paper, or their next? I feel I would be doing the student a disservice.
I take very much the same tack with helping librarians. I get lots of e-mails from librarians asking me to help them with things. And I approach each person differently. When I can see someone tried to find the answer and couldn’t, I usually offer the answer or a link to it. When it seems like perhaps the person is coming to me instead of looking something up themselves, I usually will tell them where to find documentation that will lead to their answer. I try to turn it into a teaching moment. What good will it do for me to give them the answer? What will they do next time they have a question if they don’t know where to find the documentation? When I get asked to put something on the Library Success Wiki for them, I tell them how to do it themselves and provide a link to an editing guide for MediaWiki. Sure, it’s easier to just give an answer or put the info in myself, but it doesn’t do anyone (me, them, their library) any favors in the long-run. Advice obviously is a different story than a factual question, and that’s something I’m always happy to give.
So I don’t see personally as having problems with librarians having questions (though others might). I see it as an issue of how to deal with those questions. How can we make people feel more of a sense of self-efficacy so that they can experiment, so that they can look for documentation, so that they can try things before coming to someone else? I don’t think we should tell someone asking us something “well look it up yourself!” because it likely will sour them on the subject altogether. But I do think there is a way to give someone an answer that requires them to do work that will lead to learning. And once they realize they can find this stuff, they will likely feel much more comfortable finding it the next time.
For me, it’s all about helping people and I don’t know how much I’m helping sometimes if I don’t teach someone to find the answers themselves.
Ummm… Afraid of Retribution, I couldn’t disagree more. I see just as many young people with that attitude as baby boomers. The idea that only young people are open to change and new technologies is a baseless stereotype.
Meredith, I fully agree with you and my comments were not directed at your post. Your’s is certainly the most questioning of all of the ones I have seen over the past several weeks. And I know your style so I know you are honestly trying to get answers to these questions so “we make people feel more of a sense of self-efficacy so that they can experiment, so that they can look for documentation, so that they can try things before coming to someone else?”
The tone in my comment comes more from some of the other posts, in which I really have no doubt they are asking the same question as to how to deal with the questions and attitudes to affect the same end, which seem to me to be more like finger pointing than real questions about how to effectively handle the issues.
Not sure how much of your comment is in response to mine, but we’re pretty much on the same wavelength here I think. I certainly don’t want you doing students’ work for them, I don’t think you are judgemental, and the teaching moment is key.
As to Afraid of Retribution, well, you ought to be! Talk about a ridiculous overgeneralization if there ever was one. I go to school with students as young and younger than my own children and many of them are clearly addicted to their “training wheels.”
In fact, if I even began to believe in gen-gens I’d point you to the research on the younger generations and the bike helmeted, chaperoned to every activity, nanny culture in which they grew up; but I discount almost all of it.
All I can say is that there are some very talented Baby Boomers who are just entering this profession and are going to be around for most, if not all, of your career. Best have your ducks in order because many of us are highly motivated, not averse to change, and are HIGHLY qualified.
Allow me to disagree entirely with the premise of this post and some of the comments. Unwillingness to try? Fear of failure? Lack of curiosity? Idiosyncratic learning styles? I fail to see how these characteristics are in any way peculiar to librarians. If any generalization can be leveled, it is that they are part and parcel of American corporate enterprise, which is profoundly timorous and risk averse, focused on one affirming outcome, absent which it serves no purpose whatsoever. Indeed, some librarians are lazy, some are preoccupied, distracted, fretful…they’re people. But the ethos of librarianship has nothing to do with a cultivation of ordinary human lapses.
In another forum, I have written about what I perceive to be a definitive characteristic of libraries and their workers: “Libraries have acquired [a] refined skill of ad hoc making do because they have been forced to adapt, not only since the advent of widespread digital computing, but from the very beginning.” This is an adaptive, improvisational profession, nimbly responsive to material constraints and vicissitudes of public tastes and needs. We have used and abused technology in ways well outside of their mainstream (corporate or Millennial) applications.
“Training wheels culture”: the phrase is condescending and–no little irony–itself a fitting instance of the behavior it seeks to condemn, a facile, sweeping diagnosis that gets to the heart of nothing. It’s also completely counterproductive. I thought libraries (not to mention schools, apprenticeships, mentors…) were poised to welcome all manner of queries and requests for assistance before judging the motives or lack of incentive of the inquirers. It does no good to denounce the very groups we seek to assist as lazy or uninterested.
I’ve been in work environments where looking up an answer yourself is hands-down the preferred method of resolving a problem, and I’ve also been in places where the easiest way to create a sort of social capital with your colleagues is to ask them questions and allow them to give you answers. Often you find out things you didn’t even know you would want to know, and they like feeling capable of instructing others, not to mention the benefits of reinforcing their own knowledge.
(There’s also the very valid “It’ll take me 5 minutes to look up what you probably already know, so I’ll ask you” instance, but I’m leaving that aside for now.)
So, I do hear the training wheels complaints, and they’re often fair and reasonable. But these situations at times cut other ways, and my fear is that the inclination to read all of them as a moment to get people off the wheels (the statement “for way too many people, their first reaction is to ask for help before they’ve even tried. And that path will never lead to true lasting learning” comes to mind), it can be counterproductive for everyone. You might be missing out on learning something as well, or forming a stronger personal/work connection with someone. Fear of trying things out on one’s own is unfortunate, but deciding you certainly have nothing to learn by engaging with others’ questions…seems worse to me.
So I think there are a lot of different motivations for a question that seems easy to look up on one’s own (many of which are already here in the post and comments). Figuring out how to respond positively (internally and externally)…that looks harder.
FWIW, when I can’t tell if someone is being sociable or overly cautious, I usually say, “Try doing X and let me know how it works out for you!”
Oops. By “lack of incentive” in that final sentence, I meant “lack of initiative.” Context probably did the work for me, but there you are.
Natalie, you are so right that sometimes people can benefit so much from those interactions on a social level. I have had many positive relationships come from what was initially an e-mailed question (from them or from me). I also agree that the attitude that the person answering is the only one who has something to learn is a limited one. I had a participant in my InfoPeople class in August who is now teaching me how to use the teaching technologies at San Jose State. You can be the teacher one moment and the pupil the next. 🙂
However, I don’t see making something a teachable moment as not engaging with someone’s questions. I would never leave someone high and dry, but I’d rather teach them how to find the answer themselves. People have done the same for me in the past and it’s helped me to discover plenty of resources I wouldn’t have known about had they just given me an answer.
I guess my concern is more for those who do not have anyone at their workplace who can answer their questions. It’s an important skill to develop to know where to look for those times when there will be no one who has the answer and we have to find the answers ourselves.
Dean, I don’t think I ever denounced anyone as lazy or uninterested. I simply asked a question to see what people thought. I don’t believe in judging people as being “change-averse” or “lazy” or whatever, because there is almost always a much more complex reason for their choices. I’m just curious about what it is and what is the best thing I can do for a person looking for assistance. We talk about these same things with regards to our students and struggle with the whole teachable moment vs. giving them what they want issue. It’s no different.
Meredith, My comments weren’t entirely leveled at your remarks, although I wasn’t clear about that. But I’m not sure you’re off the hook by claiming merely to be asking questions. (Larry Summers, you may recall, was merely proposing a hypothesis about gender distinctions in academia.) In your first paragraph, you wrote, “But to not even try to do the thing you’re e-mailing me about before you e-mail me is just silly.” That “silly” reads like outright denunciation to me. And after you speculate that it may be “a simple lack of interest,” you wonder why nominally interested people are “not willing to go the extra mile and just try to figure something out on their own.” A “simple” lack of interest doesn’t fairly characterize a “complex reason” for somebody’s behavior, and imputing an absence of will doesn’t leave the question of real motivation open for further discussion.
To be clear: I am not imputing a particular intention to your remarks, and I really do get the point you make in your comment to my comment, namely, there are evident hurdles to overcome in making sure everybody has an opportunity to learn about new technologies (or procedures or rules or what have you), and these hurdles are worth investigating. Nevertheless, what you and some of the others who commented wrote has a decidedly condescending tone (not to your intentions, per se, but to the gist of the words). To characterize the complex reasons for people’s choices not to exercise initiative as a function of their participation in a “training-wheels culture” is an unfortunate linguistic choice. It suggests the problem boils down to juvenile behavior.
Dean, I certainly never meant for my post to seem condescending or offensive or to come to any particular conclusion. The reason I said “silly” was because usually someone has to wait a while to get an answer to an e-mail versus looking something up which (for a simple question) takes minutes. If you’re in the middle of doing something, it is kind of silly not to try to find the answer and instead stop what you’re doing and e-mail someone to get the answer, not knowing how long it might take them to get back to you. During my course, I’ve received a bunch of e-mails from people and when I answer them hours later, I usually find that they’d already found the answer themselves. I always wonder what makes them e-mail me first, when clearly they are capable of finding the answer themselves. And maybe if I understood it all, I could do a better job of teaching so that they feel more comfortable trying to find the answer.
Good heavens, people, I do have a name and you’re all welcome to use it! Don’t attack Meredith as a proxy for me, please.
Mark and Dean, I don’t think I pretended to have all the answers to the problem (and it is not a question, it is a PROBLEM) I posed. Nor am I quite the ogre I’ve been painted. I answer questions. I offer training, both inside and outside my workplace, and I value the training I’ve been privileged to undertake. Straight-up training can save unbelievable amounts of messing-around time, and I’m certainly all for saving time!
Nobody’s born knowing this stuff. I tell people that all the time, and I behave accordingly. Moreover, I’m pleased with my own success at instilling a can-do attitude in some of my less-techie-to-begin-with students. They’re really making strides, and I couldn’t be more pleased — especially since their success hints at the root problem here being attitudinal rather than something intrinsic such as learning style.
My own frustrations aside — and they are many — my chief concerns are two. One, and it is a hypothesis rather than something I am willing to assert as fact, that remedial technology training for the timid turns out to be darn near a waste, analogous to pushing buttons for students rather than offering bibliographic instruction. Discrete technology “skills” atrophy almost at once, and the same willingness to experiment and fail that I prefer to see in my colleagues is what turns discrete skills into a toolbox of learning and troubleshooting techniques that does not stale even when technologies change.
Two, that timidity around computer technologies instills an unhealthy over-veneration of and dependence upon programmers, sysadmins, systems librarians, and other IT folks, even when what they know and can do is quite within reach of an enterprising librarian. Discussing this with other systems librarians, I have seen a remarkable consensus that some of the problem we have getting decent product out of library-software vendors can be chalked up to librarian timidity faced with technology and technologists. I’m also willing to go out on a limb and say that while the arrogance of some in the DSpace developer pool has been a serious problem as development progresses, I’ve felt far more alone than I wanted to, often, as a librarian willing to step up and say “This is broken. Fix it.”
Three (yes, I know I said two), that the considerable resources spent on training that is frankly remedial might have better uses.
Hey Dorothea, I didn’t realize I was attacking Meredith at all. For giving that impression to anyone I sincerely apologize. I really think she knows better, though, as she has a good grip on my style, which unfortunately doesn’t translate well.
I also do not mean to attack you. I used your name in the one direct comment I had for you. I guess at worst, I could say your original post was, in my opinion, not worded as well as I know you can write. It seemed that your frustration level was doing more driving than your exceptional writing skills were.
I realize that this is a problem. And I fully concur with your analysis in the above comment (16). I also want to apologize if I have seemingly painted Dorothea as an ogre. She is anything but! Perhaps my earlier comment that “One thing I am learning from these posts is that there are some subject matter experts out there who I most likely won’t be asking questions of should I ever have the need” may seem directed at you, but it isn’t. I know you well enough to know that you are willing to help. I also can’t foresee needing to ask you something where I haven’t already tried a few things first. My point was that the attitude–as I perceive it–coming from these posts is such that someone may well think twice before asking questions of the authors.
As I said, I definitely agree with your 3 points above. I guess my main point was that I didn’t see your initial post as addressing the issues that it raised.
And, yes, I fully realize that in many ways I am a pot calling the kettle black. I often fail in my writings, and often due to frustration. This case may be the first, or it may also be the second.
There have lately (past month or so) been several posts such as Meredith linked to above and there have also been several posts claiming that trying to find some middle ground between assorted positions is always just lazy, fearful, etc. Sometimes it is, just as sometimes the issues you and the others addressed in your posts are accurate. But sometimes they are not.
But these discussions are clearly not where I do so well in explaining myself so I will dismiss myself from them.
I do truly apologize for giving the perception that I was attacking anyone or making anyone out to be an ogre. I did not intend to do either. I did directly address you by name in the only specific point I had regarding your post. Everything else was merely targeted at the attitudinal gist of all the posts prior to Meredith’s. I say prior to Meredith’s as although I can see Dean’s points regarding Meredith’s choice of words I am better at “translating” her I guess.
Looking forward to seeing you in Milwaukee and perhaps even “buying you pizza” just in case I need to ask you for help in the future. 😉
Mark, I definitely did not think you were attacking me. I definitely know you well enough at this point to understand your tone. I frequently have a difficult time getting my point across online too (like with this post) so I can definitely empathize.
I have no idea whether it is a cultural thing, but damn do I hate it when people assume I have the answer to their question just because it is remotely related to technology.
Someone once asked me what “child porn” was from a Canadian legal context. Wow.
That said, my mantra — stated politely — is “Google is your friend.” Especially for technology related things.
Learners should be able to learn in all learning styles regardless what their dominant learning style is. Therefore, if a Library student does not have a dominant learning style that incorporates ‘trial and error” or exploration, or playing or beating software with rocks, then they need to compensate because to stay current in a field we must try things before the “Dummies” manual comes out. Great post!
Thanks
Barry
I share Dorothea’s frustrations with users who feel they need training in what appear to be the most obvious things, but I realize, when reflecting on this, that as a librarian who has spent the last 17 years of my career in an IT organization that my perspective is much more shaped by the culture of IT than that of libraries. In our world beating software with rocks is the norm, and manuals exist so we can have something to put on the bookshelves in our offices. Sitting down and figuring out how things work by trying them out is the norm. So maybe it’s not surprising that those of us who are more in tune with that culture have difficulty understanding requests for training in the use of what appear to be simple web forms, or the like. (Naturally this can be taken to extremes and many IT shops are notorious for doing so, which is inexcusable.)
I do believe, however, that it’s important for librarians to take a more proactive approach to developing IT skills, and to take more ownership of IT generally. In this day and age there is very little we do that is not done through information technology, and the continued view of IT as some discipline having nothing to do with librarianship is in effect ceding responsibility for the basic tools with which we do our work to others.
Apropos of the “culture of IT” versus “training-wheels culture” debate, see this recent random Slashdot post:
Adobe Confirms Unpatched PDF Backdoor
These sorts of stories are legion, some are myths or exaggerations, some aren’t. I offer this as an example of ordinary, ubiquitous software, Adobe Acrobat, used by librarians and non-librarians alike. Out of the box it runs fairly miserably, in my opinion, thanks perhaps to its developers operating under a “beating software with rocks” norm. Now it appears to pose a vulnerability for some users.
This might help to explain why users outside the culture of IT are leery of tinkering. The most innocuous, routine applications–Acrobat, IE7, and the like–continue to pose unpredictable problems in operation and for security.
“Simple web forms”? Just today, I tried in vain to order a replacement part for a faucet from a major producer. Their simple web form included a pull-down menu. It was perfectly empty, no options whatsoever. I resorted to the bland, uninformative “Contact us” form, from which I don’t seriously expect a response.
To repeat my earlier points, which do indeed resist–while I really hope they aren’t viewed as attacking anybody at all–the notion that a significant number of librarians are in some way seriously lacking initiative or reason, my take is that we’re putting this all in context, thinking outside the culture, if you will. Since I don’t understand “how Adobe works,” but only “how to work Adobe,” I worry when it yet again brings down the system for no obvious reason. This worry can (and should) be generalized to much of the technology we use. It’s a sensible skepticism, sometimes best addressed by asking for help.
Dean, I can see we have a fundamental disagreement on a basic point here. “This worry can (and should) be generalized to much of the technology we use.”
No, I don’t think that’s the case. As I pointed out im my earlier comment, we are entirely dependent on technology for almost everything we do in libraries, from searching our catalogs to writing reports. If information technology was generally so bad that it routinely caused systems to crash, we wouldn’t be getting much done. If web forms were all like your plumbing supply site, Amazon.com would be out of business by now. We are getting plenty done, and Amazon’s doing quite well, because in aggregate information technology serves us pretty well.
Though I do have to note that one of the fears I’ve often encountered in training staff to use technology is the fear that they’ll “break” something if they actually press the enter key. The fear is real enough, whether or not we agree on its validty.
Bruce, A disagreement, yes, but perhaps not a fundamental one. Your depiction of aggregate economic contours may be correct, but I read your conclusion as analogous to: “Since most people don’t get in serious car accidents, I shouldn’t worry.” (Granted, I’m skewing the scenario to make a point.) In urging skepticism I’m echoing Dorothea’s earlier comment “that timidity around computer technologies instills an unhealthy over-veneration of and dependence upon programmers, sysadmins, systems librarians, and other IT folks, even when what they know and can do is quite within reach of an enterprising librarian,” although I would say the over-veneration instills the timidity, not vice versa. I’m also sympathetic to your comment about users’ fears of breaking something. I ran an ILS and network for over a decade and observed the fear factor quite a bit. My Adobe example indicates another source of fear, namely, the fear of an application wreaking havoc with the users’ otherwise relatively happy systems. In any case, our being dependent on the technology isn’t necessarily an argument for its assured excellence. We are dependent on it, but it often works precisely because we maintain it, tinker with it, work around its limitations, etc. These can be frustrating, time-consuming processes.
Our disagreement isn’t fundamental, then. You (and Meredith and others contributing to the discussion) see a generally healthy state of technology, full of promise, inviting us to take the plunge (and, according to you, doing so without even RTFM). I see a more tenuous fledgling technology, well worth wondering about with some caution before we dive in headlong.
Not a direct response to the original post (a bit late for that), but a couple points:
-Speaking from way too many years actually creating library “IT” and seeing it as others have created it, I can suggest that “shelving the manuals and beating it with a rock” isn’t always ideal. Many early MARC implementations, for example, were pretty clearly done without actually learning MARC, and showed it, making a number of false assumptions that limited their generality (and usually resulted in the applications rejecting perfectly valid records). That’s one reason I wrote my first book…and I’m still not sure how much good it did. You know, sometimes the documentation (standards, manuals) is there for a reason, not just to fill bookshelves.
-Specifically *not* aimed at Meredith, but maybe a little at Dorothea, I’m with Mark in being a little discouraged at the apparent sense that arguing for balance or any sort of middle ground is being viewed so negatively. Do we really need more “My way or the highway” thinking?
And maybe that does speak to the cluster of posts. I’m certainly willing to look things up and try them out (and do so all the time)–but there are some questions where I’d trust a quick email answer from someone who I know ***has the right information*** a whole lot more than I’d trust Google, or Wikipedia, or an “expert” I don’t really know.
OK, Walt, I’ll bite: I don’t read Dorothea as saying “shelve the manuals and get out the rocks” is always ideal, and neither do I read her (or Meredith for that matter) as saying it is a bad idea or shameful to ask a question of a colleague.
I read Dorothea’s post as a critique of a fairly specific behavior or attitude–the person who says “I can’t do anything until someone has trained me on this, and I am afraid to do something unless I know in advance it is the right thing to do.” These are the folks who ask “how did you learn to set up that blog?” You jump in and try it, that’s how.
To my mind, asking questions, reading books, etc. is still part of a “beat stuff with rocks” mentality. It’s not about being gleefully ignorant. It is about having the courage to do something without knowing exactly what will happen, and the determination and tenacity to stick with a problem until you figure it out.
As someone who admittedly has harbored a “training wheels” approach to technology at times, I appreciate the reminder to get in there and bang some rocks. To offer my 2 cents on the questions posed, I think the fear of failure is absolutely the culprit, regardless of age or profession. For those who wish to understand the training-wheels mentality, I urge you to keep on with the gentle-but-firm pushing.
Steve, I think you’re right, and I owe Dorothea an apology. I was conflating several different things in that comment. So, let’s say, “specifically not aimed at anyone here.”
Dorothea’s right to criticize that notion. Jumping in isn’t always appropriate, but it’s frequently the only way to get a feel for something.
Apparently my previous response to Steve was blocked. Briefly: Steve’s right. I apologize to Dorothea. I was conflating several different things inappropriately. There are people who refuse to accept a middle ground; I should not have accused Dorothea of being one of them. My bad.
And yes, in many (not all) cases we MUST be willing to do some experimentation and self-learning. Otherwise, stagnation sets in.