The Australian Library Journal

'Thinking outside the square'

John Levett

A byline 'Thinking outside the square' in the August inCite has caught my attention: the sidebar reports on the OTS thinking of Geraldine Barkworth 'who has made five lateral career moves to date', each drawing on her skills in information management. She is presently a personal and career coach. Such entrepreneurial flexibility is a major survival skill, and a significant personal asset. 'Thinking outside the square' is not an easy thing to do at the best of times, and when we most need it is usually in the worst of times: and much of what we are required and are taught to do, professionally, is to work within clearly defined boundaries. Squares, in fact. It is not surprising that one of those rectangles is called The Anglo-American Cataloguing Rules. And although we are less bound by that dictatorial code than we once were, that sense of tight-lipped precedent-bound discipline still overshadows much of what we do: it has to, because we work in organisations which are inherently rule- and policy-based, and consisting of what have lately been called 'silos' but which in reality are squares. 'In the trenches' was the phrase which preceded 'at the coalface' and 'the silo mentality' to signify the workplace: the phrase carries connotations of being dug-in, besieged, a context in which it is dangerous to stick your head above the parapet because it might get shot off. But if you don't stick your head up, how do you know what is happening on the immediate battlefield? How tell what the enemy is doing? We need people who are not afraid to 'stick their neck out' [or up]: who can think outside the square, in fact.

Geraldine has done it: so can we all. I am in fact, and by definition, talking about a viewpoint which has its location inside a 'square' or other context - which might be a profession, an institution, a relationship, a life or any other set of horizons which constitute a box, physical, psychic or intellectual, but from which it is possible to see outside, and to enable conclusions to be drawn about what is seen. Let me offer a definition:

'Think: to form, conceive or revolve in the mind; to have as a thought; to imagine; to judge; to believe or consider; to expect or intend; to purpose, design; to remember or recollect; to bring into a particular condition; to believe to exist; to exercise the mind...'

I started to italicise aspects of this definition [from Chambers] which particularly appealed to me, and I found that I had emphasised the definition in its entirety. Of course, introspectivity can be counter-productive and is not the necessary prerequisite of action: as Hamlet puts it, decisive action is too often set aside, deferred by too much thought [better described as 'brooding' and which nearly all of us practise]. Hamlet is the world expert in brooding - all those unhealthy thoughts about his mother and his uncle. No time for poor old Ophelia and her more earthy needs. Anyway, as Hamlet murmurs:

'... the native hue of resolution...is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment, with this regard their currents turned awry, and lose the name of action...'.

But, as I was saying before Hamlet, as he often does, distracted me, thought is not the inevitable pre-requisite to action. All around us, we see evidence of actions undertaken without sufficient or even a modicum, of thought: those masters of instinctive, intuitive survival and short-term actions, politicians, do it all the time.

But thought is necessary to considered action, and if we are going to act, as well as think, outside the square, then we perhaps need to give the process enough time to ensure that we are at least aware of the possible consequences of doing so. Thinking is a more or less private process, but action is much more public: as are its consequences. So if there is a connection between your thinking and your action, there is an additional dimension for consideration. Bosses do not in the main, like it: it slows down the processes too much, so unless you are unusually fortunate in your choice of bosses, or have found a mentor (sometimes - if you are very lucky - the same thing), make it a domestic indulgence at least until you are more confident.

Thinking is an iterative process: it goes round and round in your head, often without your permission or direction, and it evolves. It is also nocturnal by nature: unless you have a diary function on your soft drive [I haven't] it helps to record on paper [less intrusive in a double bed than a keyboard] at least the bare bones or trends of the process. You will be surprised at the evolutions which can occur. It is anything but comfortable and invariably lateral: it is often a disturbing process, even if it does not lead to action. Use the wonderful 'back-burner' function of your brain; give it a problem to consider just before you go to sleep. It will often wake one at 3:00am with obviously unreliable conclusions, but when you do wake up properly, you will find that your thinking has advanced considerably.

'How can I learn to think?' Not all of us need to ask the question but it seems to bear heavily on those who have been subjected to that highly conformist institutionalised process which we call 'education' and which of its nature is anything but, consisting largely of pounding in information rather than drawing thoughts out and encouraging the formation of individual conclusions. When I was teaching, I would quite often not set readings for a particular task. This always caused immense discomfort. When I told students that I wanted to know what they thought, not what they had read, they were very unhappy. The search for the elusive, non-existent, but hotly pursued 'right answer' obscures the possibility of several workable answers which is one of the consequences of thought.

I have come to the end of my editorial ration, and I have barely touched on the square: it will have to wait for another occasion...

In this issue Dirk Spennemann gives us an insight into the challenges involved in establishing and running a virtual library for a very small country; Peter Dobrovits initiates us into some of the mysteries of valuing books, a challenge which many public librarians have had presented to them by trusting and occasionally avaricious clients. Anita Brown argues convincingly for a fair deal in reference service for that clientele which sometimes can not even be seen over the enquiry desk - and there is a strong link between her thesis and that of Abby Haynes who has given us an outstanding piece of academic work on the difficult and often scamped processes of library service evaluation, and one of the best student contributions we have seen. Brigitte Glockner argues forcefully for the accreditation of special libraries and offers a challenge to ALIA in the process. The usual score or so of reviews - and in this connection we propose to open the review and editorial pages of ALJ and incorporate both reviews and articles which may be offered to us consequent to the demise of Orana which we understand is to cease publication early next year: we will have more to say on this in our next issue.