The Australian Library Journal

Editorial

John Levett

All new enterprises, like this editorial, start with a blank page. The organizers of this year's Biennial Conference Powering the future began, however long ago (three years?) with a page with nothing on it. From this in due course emerged the four days of conferring, listening, e-mailing, conversing, which took place in late May 2002 in Sydney.

As long ago as 1975 I was predicting the end of the large, whole-of-Association conferences: in a review written for Dietrich Borchardt, the then editor of AARL, entitled, I think, 'The end of the dinosaurs?' I confidently asserted that the field (it was not yet being referred to as an 'industry') was so diverse that it would be impossible to continue the tradition of general biennial conferences. Instead, the many and various interest groups which were emerging would splinter off and hold their own specialised meetings, much reduced in attendance numbers, but with a very precisely focused and specialized agenda. I thought that meetings of perhaps 200 people would be about the norm. Not for the first time, and hopefully not the last, I was proved wrong, at least in part. The whole-of-ALIA conferences continued to flourish. The tightly programmed mini-conferences and large meetings reflecting special interests did indeed emerge: and so did other, major conferences such as those of the health and law librarians, the technicians, and significant themed events like the VALA and Online conferences.

I long ago gave up trying to compute the actual and implied costs of such gatherings including the hours, days, weeks, even years of time given by the organizers, and wittingly or not, whole or in part, underwritten by their employers, but I think it is reasonable to suggest that the fully-costed conference or meeting could not be sustained in the market which is now the dominant metaphor for much of our thinking, and to offer the thought that we still do many things if not for love, then certainly for no evident or tangible reward (which might be close to a definition of the labours of love).

When we offer to participate in the organization of a conference or meeting, we are in fact committing ourselves to give something to our colleagues. It is not as clear as it might once have been whether we, or those colleagues to whom we offer the product of our labours are all members of the Association: I suspect the proportion of both organizers and attendees might be about half and half, that is members and non-members of ALIA. In one sense it doesn't matter, in that it is the profession including, as I said here in August, 'technicians' who have stepped up to the professional plate, especially in the organisation of first-rate conferences, which is giving something to itself. I haven't counted the number of such events in any given year - perhaps twenty major gatherings - which represents an extraordinary and possibly unparalleled investment in belief, commitment, and just plain hard work. The fact that we now employ professional logisticians in the shape of conference organizers in no way diminishes the contribution, and is in fact is consistent with the underlying premise of outsourcing, which whether we like it or not, is now well-established as a contemporary management option.

The question then emerges: why? Why do we take on such workloads? Why do we invest the time and money required to attend? The answers might be highly differentiated: shared information; enhanced learning; the 'conference experience'; the opportunity to see what 'the trade' (there must be a better term?) is currently offering. However diverse the reasons, it is evident that enough of us still believe that the potential benefits of conferring are such as to warrant a significant personal and corporate (in the broadest sense) investment. Not all conferences succeed in their intentions: for all of us there are landmark occasions which stand out in the memory, but it cannot be denied that each presents an opportunity to escape from the frameworks of our everyday life and thinking, a chance to listen to other similarly attuned voices, and to re-energise those convictions without which we cannot, in all conscience, practise our profession. Each brings together, however briefly and transiently, an extraordinary concentration of intellect, emotion and experience. Each is what the navigators call a waypoint, 'a point for determining location, changing direction, on a journey...' . We find out where we are, where we've been, and decide where we are going. Some meetings, like the Aurora institutes, are deliberately aimed at inducing a change of direction: but it would be a rare and insensible delegate who did not gain some insight into the direction of her own career.

Powering the future was a life-changing conference: its organisers took several bold and innovative steps, the most significant of which was to build the programme round a number of very distinguished speakers from outside the profession. As always, these took different directions and spoke from different platforms in addressing their particular concerns and interests. Taken as a whole, the papers which were presented offer an unprecedented opportunity to consider how what we do is perceived by the influential layperson: a selection is offered here. Some of the speakers were perhaps unduly deferential and polite: some offered their perspective without particular regard for their audience. Some, as always, kissed and ran, and left nothing but the summing-up or a Power-Point presentation to record their inspiring passage. All provoked reflection and offered waypoints for the future direction of the Association, an opportunity which was foreseen by the organizers, and which has been seized by ALIA's directors. Watch this space.

In this issue a number of the papers given at the conference by eminent laypersons, leavened by contributions from within the profession. Neil McLean chances his arm with some reflections on the directions that the conference might take, offered before it opened and tying the conference firmly to ALIA's Core values statement; Hugh Mackay, psychologist, social commentator and writer, looks at contemporary Australia and some of its implications for us; Tim Besley, President of the Australian Academy of Technological Science and Engineering, considers the role of information in relation to the essential processes of scientific and technological innovation; Peter Carnley gives us an arch-episcopal but gentle perspective on ourselves; Geoffrey Bolton presents a sardonic view on the consequences of ignorance and federal initiatives in the funding of academic institutions, including libraries; Marianne Broadbent, vice-president and head of Research Executive Programs Worldwide for the Gartner Group offers a succinct perspective on the value nexus between business and information; Malcolm Gillies, Deputy Vice-chancellor at the ANU, climbs the high-dive tower and jumps off with his report of the conference-in-progress Information futures; Neil McLean takes his bearings on the development of an Information agenda for the Association and Joyce Kirk, ALIA's incoming President pulls the threads together with her agenda for action. All of which adds up to some extraordinary reading: comments, in the form of letters or e-mails to the editor are always welcome [jlevett@southcom.com.au].

The conference website is at http://conferences.alia.org.au/.

Our reviews lead off with one by Eugenie Greig on the writings of Seymour Lubetzky, one of cataloguing's rare and refreshing philosophers. This is followed by a score of eclectic and engaging assessments of the recent output of the professional presses.

And another thing Wayne Carey has done the honourable thing by the Roos, chewed up and swallowed the cheque for his story and has gone to Adelaide for the foreseeable future; can't tell if our reviews editor is pleased or not. As long as the reviews keep on coming...

One last word... Quite suddenly it seems, we have reached the end of another year. Looking back over the contributions secured, it seems reasonable to assume that the profession is in good shape: feisty, even. This is remarkable: in many ways it has been a rough year for many Australians, and all the signs are that it is going to get rougher. Be of good cheer. Keep ALIA's Core Values Statement by your bedside for those black moments in the middle of the night. I'm grateful more than words can say to members of the Board of Directors, executive director Jennefer Nicholson, Ivan Trundle and Emma Davis of ALIA's publications wing, and reviews editor Professor Gary Gorman for their moral and practical support. Good wishes to all contributors past and future and thanks to the small but dedicated core of referees whose advice is invaluable.