The professional duet: ALJ and inCite

John Levett

ALJ and inCite are halves of a whole: the vehicle by which the objectives and business of the Australian Library and Information Association are recorded, carried forward and made known to members and the wider environment.

The Australian Library Journal has now survived over fifty years, during which it generally flourished: the founders of the Library Association of Australia rightly saw that a mature journal was one of the essential attributes of a profession. Since that time it has gone through several metamorphoses, not all of which could claim to be 'scholarly' or 'scholastic' as the Association presently describes it. Indeed there was a brief episode, in the seventies, of course, which Harrison Bryan once described as 'the tabloid period'. In an effort to make the journal more popular, its production was given over to a journalist, and a curious hybrid emerged. Inside was library-speak: outside was pop-mag, replete with splendidly-endowed members of the profession emerging from the surf with wet t-shirts and stirring slogans. That version lasted for about two years, although at the time it seemed to go on much longer. It still makes interesting reading: free love, if not actually endorsed in its pages, certainly hovered in the background and professional conferences were much less decorous then than they are now. Legend has it that at one conference in this era an Association treasurer [not a librarian] discovered a healthy surplus on the books [General Council meeting then on the occasion of the biennial conferences] and proceeded to shout the bar with it. All night. To my eternal regret, I missed the occasion. The tabloid version had a certain style, and individual issues are now collectable; but all good things come to an end, and ALJ resumed its more serious, 'scholastic' form at the end of that rambunctious decade.

1981 marked the beginning of my first stint as Editor: in deference to popular sentiment, inCite was brought into being around that time as a younger, brasher sibling of ALJ; its task was to deliver information, job vacancies and news to members in a more timely fashion than the quarterly frequency of ALJ allowed. It is not unfair to say that inCite has grown in stature and quality to a level far beyond that envisaged by its progenitors. It now contains far more than 'news'. It offers, eleven times a year, a wide selection of material ranging from accounts of events such as the launching of ALIAnet v5 to such important and timely items such as regular analyses of critical policy documents such as the Federal Budget. It is now much more than a news magazine and compares very favourably with its overseas counterparts which often enjoy much more lavish budgets. Regular columns such as Frontline put the Association's office-bearers and staff in frequent and informative contact with members: feedback is invariably reflected in the 'Letters' column, not always favourable, but usually constructive. Guest contributions on such problematic issues as copyright in the paintings of Albert Namatjira and the very much wider debate about the rights of indigenous contributors to the national culture are frequent. The format and frequency of inCite and its overall quality ensures that it draws a healthy range of advertising, and overall it is a very worthy and fully professional companion to ALJ [or vice-versa].

Does it compete with ALJ? My view is that it does not: its very competent editor, Emma Davis, who also oversees the physical production and typographical aspects of the publication of ALJ is an esteemed and valued colleague, whose judgment, competence and co-operation are to be highly relied on. It could not be otherwise, and the result is a strengthening complementarity between it and ALJ. This is not to say that I do not admire, and occasionally envy its colour, dash and brio, but the Journal's mission is different. It reaches a narrower, possible more reflective audience, and its format is consistent with its mission; but to describe its role as exclusively scholarly is too limiting. Its task is much broader, but so strong is the impression that its mission is primarily academic that it is sometimes necessary to offer a disclaimer.

In the second issue [my first] for 1981, I declared my position, so that readers [who were not then subscribers] would know what they were in for: in the relaxed mood of the era, the job had not been advertised, there were no obvious selection criteria [and few takers, I might say: some things don't change] no interview, and no formal handover. So I was something of an unknown quantity as far as the Journal was concerned. I took over from Harrison Bryan and I think it is fair to say his was a holding position which he had to relinquish on becoming Director-General of the National Library of Australia. He brought out the first issue for 1981, and it reflected his scholarship: in my turn, I acknowledged the need for intellectual rigour, but there was not then a great surplus of it. We had only a handful of PhDs in the profession, and people were not so accustomed to writing and delivering papers and articles as they are now, nor at the same academic level.

This marks perhaps one of the greatest changes in the profession over the intervening two decades: we are now much more articulate and confident. If evidence of this were needed, one need go no further than the conference papers given by, for example, library technicians: intelligent, articulate, persuasive, committed. Indeed ALIA's refurbished and astonishingly comprehensive and effective website, ALIAnet v5, is redolent with writing which would grace the pages of any professional journal. This is not to say that there is a large backlog of contributions awaiting publication in ALJ: and my colleague Dr Peter Clayton, editor of Australian Academic and Research Libraries and I agree that a major part of our job as editors is to seek out and secure for publication a representative range of the excellent writing which now flourishes.

The introduction of a refereeing process for some (not all) articles in ALJ has made some potential contributors hesitate, but the process, although rigorous, is not inhumane, and is as transparent as it can be: where referees make extensive comment regarding an article, these comments are made available to the author, sometimes anonymously and sometimes (with of course the referee's concurrence) her/his identity revealed. Along with these rigorous, refereed contributions there is room for other copy: accounts of current practices, problems and solutions have a very important place, and it is not necessary that all of these be refereed. There is also a need, nearly as great as the dearth, for philosophical, speculative contributions which challenge the status quo: in so volatile an environment, we need to constantly review why as well as what. In addition, many papers are presented at conferences which deserve a place in the journal of record: which brings me to my conclusion.

The primary function of ALJ is to record, within the limits of available space, what it was that engaged the attention of the profession, when. To reflect to the profession now and in the future some indication of the key issues that engaged it at various points in its evolution. It can only do this if it has access to a range of contributions which reflect the extraordinary breadth of the profession, and increasingly, its associated disciplines. In so doing it has a responsibility to encourage and support contribution from all levels and interests, from the technician to the doctoral candidate, from the inexperienced to the seasoned veteran, from within the profession, and where appropriate from outside it. It is a privilege to be its editor.

In this issue we open with another contribution on the continuing debate about the education and preparation of 'new information professionals' in which the articulate Sue Myburgh argues for a fresh approach. Items from her bibliography also appear in that for an article by Miroslav Kruk who takes a philosopher's approach to 'truth and libraries': and from there each author follows a different direction. The divergence in their viewpoints is also reflected in a number of the reviews which appear in this issue: which suggests that we are at a crossroads in how the profession should develop between now and 2010 which the Board of Directors has nominated as the next major waypoint on the profession's Odyssey.

Barbara Lewincamp and Julie Faulkner review the digitisation program at the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies, a program with some very interesting and surprising (to me at least) outcomes. Roxanne Missingham and Robert Walls from the National Library of Australia report on their analysis of the uniqueness and overlap (which turns out to be limited) of the collections of Australian university libraries. Ursula Henderson, Kate Sergeant, Kate Sinclair and Robyn Ellard deliver a very upbeat account of a self-help adventure in South Australia which has already delivered support [and promises a great deal more] to emerging graduates in that State. Cathie Koina asks, more than a little sardonically 'Librarians are the ultimate knowledge managers [aren't they?]' We close the list of articles with a very thoughtful account by Don Boadle of the emergence of the Charles Sturt University Regional Archives from its small beginnings as a library collection; he reveals, in a somewhat understated way, the delicate nature of relations between the University and its constituent community over a thirty-year period as the Archives evolved. And of course [I sound like Peter Cundall of the ABC's Gardening Show] there is the usual crop of reviews co-ordinated by that supporter of lost causes and curious umpiring decisions, Dr Gary Gorman.

And another thing Go and have a look at the list of ALIA Fellowships on ALIAnet v5 [

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