The Australian Library Journal

The Horton era

[Editorial] John Levett
Warren Horton has retired from the director-generalship of the National Library of Australia, and we expect at a later date to offer a comprehensive account of the many different aspects of his career. His was an eventful tenure as the National Library encountered fiscal and electronic turbulence, and his ride turned out to be if not rougher, then rough in a different way from that of most of his predecessors. The period of his tenure has seen major 'restructuring', a relative downsizing of the National Library workforce, a contraction of the national horizons, a shift from social to economic preoccupations as the driving force of the Australian polity, and a major shift in the status of the public service and its relations with the body politic. Washing across this tide have been a number of other currents: 'globalisation' a highly elastic and fugitive expression and perhaps condition, which seems like the now beginning to be unfashionable or at least disowned 'economic rationalism' to mean what ever its pro tem adherents want it to; the beginning and end of 'political correctness', another rubbery expression; the erosion of the dominant Anglo-Celtic ethos in Australia, with all its strengths and shortcomings as the major cultural dialect, and the developing ideological tendency to anathematise government intervention in social, economic or cultural matters. Elevating all of these tensions to another level of political significance were the extraordinary advances in communications and information technology, the pervasiveness and utility of which was recently demonstrated when Kosovar refugees lately arrived in Australia used the internet to compare (unfavourably) the allowances granted to them by the Australian government with those offered to their fellows elsewhere in the western world.

Horton also played his part in drawing Australian librarianship onto the international stage, primarily, but by no means only, through his work with and on IFLA. During his term there can hardly have been a week when a delegation of overseas, particularly south-east Asian, librarians was not at large in the National Library, with a broad sub-strata of students and interns. It is unlikely that he could walk the streets of any Asian capital for an hour without being recognised and welcomed. These were, as we understatedly say, interesting times, and Horton was very much a part of them. He has his detractors, as all strong personalities do; these are outnumbered by those who genuinely admire his achievements, considerable in themselves, but the impact of recent personal factors elevates these to an extraordinary level. He is the most political animal to have directed the National Library, but not perhaps, the most self-effacing: his skills served him well when government was genuinely interested in the fate of Australia's major cultural institutions, and even better in a period when the tide was flowing less favourably. He has almost single-handedly educated and inspired a generation of Australian librarians to engage with the political process, and his presence in the national capital when the Association's national office relocated there was a fortunate coincidence indeed. The growing presence of the Association in Canberra, and the success with which it now regularly engages with the processes of government underline his persistent indoctrination of its executive directors and General Council.

ACLIS, which for a decade seemed likely to challenge the Association as the primary voice for libraries, had its origins in the National Library under Horton's encouragement and unobtrusive direction: that the opportunities which it offered were not more widely taken up and endorsed by Australia's major libraries had to do with ambitions and agendas other than Horton's. He has been the most visible of Australia's national librarians, and perhaps the one most closely engaged with its professional body: he is fond of saying that his accomplishments are merely a return to the profession for the opportunities which it has offered to him, but in fact the balance is very much in the profession's favour, for he has given unstintingly, and some would say, in terms of his personal life, unwisely, to his trade. His engagement has not only been at the institutional level: there is hardly a significant appointment over the last decade that he has not had a hand in shaping, and at the personal level he has been a friend and mentor to many. His sponsorship, in the broadest senses of the word, of the Aurora Institutes ensured that they flourished, and that the graduates of those institutes would over time, become a significant and influential cohort in the ranks of the profession.

At the time of writing, the name of Horton's successor was still unknown but whoever steps into his shoes, the office of director-general will once more be reshaped; if this results in a comparable contribution to the profession's interests, (as distinct from those of the National Library) we will be fortunate indeed. However it is difficult to see amongst the ranks of possible contenders any who would be prepared or able or willing to make such a contribution, and much will therefore depend on the leaders whom we in ALIA elect or appoint. With an unsympathetic or disinterested director-general, or one from outside the profession, ALIA would once again have to make the running in ways which it perhaps did not need to during Horton's era. In addition, the coincidental vacation of the office of executive-director of ALIA makes that appointment somewhat more problematic.

By now it will be clear that I am an unashamed admirer of Warren Horton; it was not always thus, but the fault, if any, was my own. I have watched him closely now for over ten years, and hold his friendship dear, as do many others of my acquaintance and generation. Like them, I am grateful for his presence, his advice, his initiatives and his friendship: like them, I wish him well in the next phase of his life.

In this issue Russell Cope warns of the dangers inherent in the cupidity of the presiding officers of parliaments as they take stock of the riches inherent in their libraries with one eye on Sotheby's and Christie's: and underlines the regression in access to and control of government publications since the now all-but-forgotten Erwin Report. Cameron Barrie looks at the symbiosis between libraries and the work of writers. Carolyn McSwiney and two colleagues continue to address the little-understood problems which overseas students encounter in Australian academic libraries. Ian Morrison takes us through the State Library of Victoria's engagement with the national electronic archiving project PANDORA. Phil Teece takes an assayer's look at the 'fool's gold' of unconsidered downsizing. Gary Gorman takes time off from barracking for the highly-fancied 'Roos to bring us another twenty or so book reviews: how does he do it?