The Australian Library Journal

Square (as in thinking outside the...)

John Levett

I had to cut my last editorial short: I had undertaken to talk about thinking - outside the square, and did not get past 'thinking'. 'Outside' is not a comfortable word! And Chambers is not much consolation '...the farthest limit; unlikely; remote; beyond the limit; not having membership; not a member of a particular company; a stranger, layman; a person not fit to be associated with; not included in the favourites...' Corollaries of being, going, or thinking outside are that you become an alien, an immigrant, intruder, interloper, misfit, gatecrasher, the odd one out. Pretty terrifying in fact, especially in relation to an occupational group whose professional behaviour is often dictated by rule or policy.

I am not talking about the classic or compulsive 'outsider', about whom Colin Wilson in the fifties gave us the definitive text. The group cannot affect the true outsider to whom any sanctions are meaningless. The beat generation were the classic outsiders; James Dean a constructed outsider. What sort of people have earned the distinction? It is commoner in English literature than it is in Australian. Evelyn Waugh and Nancy Mitford (U and non-U) the arch exponents. But children anywhere are particularly good, often to the point of real viciousness, at inflicting it. Some of history's classic outsiders achieved varying degrees of fame: Napoleon; Galileo; Newton; Byron; Hitler; Ned Kelly; Billy Hughes; Menzies (an outsider trying desperately to be an insider). The most vocal of today's Australian outsiders is probably Phillip Adams.

My concern here is with the insider thinking outside. The primary contemporary example of this is the whistle-blower. And we all know that whatever his or her motivations and however well-intentioned or noble their actions, the consequences for the individual are seldom pleasant. Whistle-blowing is not necessarily the most effective outcome of thinking outside the square. Cassandra was a classic whistle-blower; she could see the implications of everything done outside and inside the walls of Troy and talked about them at length, but she was unable to convert that prescience into effective action. Troy fell and descended into darkness.

Let me illustrate at a more local level: in the mid-sixties I was engaged to speak to the NSW Branch of the then Library Association of Australia (LAA) on the notion of quality in public library reference services. By way of gathering data, I carried out a survey of ten NSW public library reference services including my own, and resting in part on their responses to a set of fairly typical reference questions. Nothing wrong with that. But I suspected that if I asked my three test questions upfront, I would be recognised and get a somewhat biased response: so I created three personae to ask my three reference questions 'undercover' as it were. The questions were quite simple: information about argon-arc welding, then a new technique; information about contraception for a teenage girl, and the date of the Anschluss, the forced union of Austria with Germany.

The results were exactly as confirmed by similar subsequent exercises in Australia and elsewhere. In any given library service, including my own, the enquirer had about a fifty per cent chance of getting accurate or useful responses to a specific question. Some libraries actually jibbed at the question on contraception. Anyhow, my liberal-minded colleagues at the meeting in Sydney where I attempted to discuss these results howled me down (not the last time it was to happen in my career) for 'unprofessional behaviour' and there was a move to have me thrown out of the LAA which I don't think has ever happened to anyone else.

I mention this incident just to illustrate that the consequences of thinking, speaking and acting beyond the square (in this case a previously unarticulated sense of what was, and was not proper) can be quite painful. I could not have derived my results in any other way, and I would do it (have done it) again: but you need to be aware of the possibilities if you are contemplating action of this kind.

The square

It is a curious phenomenon, this notion of 'the square': it carries a range of often paradoxical, even contradictory meanings. There is the geometric figure 'having a rectilinear and rectangular form of equal length and breadth'. Then there are the actions: 'if you are "on the square" you are just and honourable, straightforward, not readily moved or deviated, precise, exact...'. A 'square meal' is a generous one. A 'square cut' is one where the ball moves at right angles to the wicket... If you 'square things' you may be putting them right, or you may be about to procure a minor miscarriage of justice: 'I'll square it for you' means that you are some sort of fixer, and that you will use your influence to someone else's advantage. If you 'square up' to someone, you are adopting a belligerent attitude, you are showing that you are prepared to fight. If you are a 'square-toes', you are something of a stickler for formality. At Waterloo, the British Infantry held off the attacking French by forming squares, thus presenting a hedgehog of bayonets to the oncoming cavalry. The French thought this was most unfair. A generation ago, if you were a square, you neither drank nor smoked nor fornicated and voted for the Liberal Party. You were something of a bore.

Shakespeare on the other hand, thought that you would be quarrelsome, provocative, and if you were a square peg in a round hole, you might have some justification for being perpetually aggrieved. If you attempted to square the circle, you were attempting the impossible (but for many years people tried to). If you go back to square one, you have thrown the wrong dice in snakes and ladders, or you have wasted a lot of time pursuing chimerae.

So 'square' has an immense range of possible meanings which are hardly diminished by the injunction to think outside the square, but our old friend 'common parlance' tells us that it means 'to act unconventionally; to reject the easy and obvious solution; not to be bound by precedent'.

It is something that all innovators do: they break new ground, they bring a fresh way of looking at things, they innovate, they are creative, in that they make, rather than copy, they create, rather than imitate. In short, they have originality.

Librarianship is full of squares. It is, essentially, devoted to making order out of chaos, and in order to assist with this task, it has devised a great number of rules. ('Rule:... that which is normal or usual: conformity to good or established usage; well-regulated condition; a principle; a standard; a code of regulations; a guiding principle; a method or process of achieving a result; to exercise power over; to control, to manage...'.) Our professions rest on the articulation and application of such rules. So by their nature they are perhaps unlikely to be receptive to (paradoxical) thinking outside them.

I want to diverge just for a moment to consider this phenomenon of paradox. It is something that has intrigued me for a long time, largely, I suspect because I am a Gemini. 'Paradox: something which is contrary to received, conventional opinion; something which is apparently absurd, but is or may really be true; a self-contradictory statement; the state of being any of these.' For me it is the simultaneous existence, in a single frame of reference - a square if you like - of apparently contradictory phenomena. Viewed in this light, contemporary economics is evidently paradoxical, for whilst it happily consents to the proposition that one of its consequences is to make many people exceedingly rich, it will never accept the paradox that it is also making many more people exceedingly poor. But since it is the rich people who in the main control the media, this particular paradox is seldom acknowledged, let alone discussed, except in such radical journals as Eureka Street, which if you have not already encountered it, I particularly recommend to you.

In principle, people all around you - and the academic part of your education is an example of what I mean - will encourage you to think beyond the square. But be aware that you need to be careful how, when and where and about what you do it, and especially, what you do with the consequences. This is a separate part of the process - what (if any) action seems to be indicated by your thinking, or your (another name for it) research: my view is that thought which does not lead to action is dreaming, and that there is therefore an obligation on the thinker to share his/her thoughts and to consider action based on them.

But there is also a technique for this: I have learned that the implementation of one's conclusions from this process of thinking outside the square requires finesse, diplomacy, tact, tenacity, patience and absolute belief in what you are embarked upon. If you do not believe, how can you persuade others to do so? I can't emphasise the diplomacy aspect too much. This requires much thought and planning: balance what you want to achieve with what your outlays are going to be. They may be considerable. You cannot achieve anything on your own: you will need friends, supporters, (honest) critics, mentors, advisers, colleagues. You will soon learn who your true friends are. It is a bit like 'coming out' in other contexts: unconventional, potentially alienating, but deep down, immensely, hugely satisfying.

After fifty years of being a professional 'stirrer', it is not over yet for me, but I envy those of you who are just embarking on the process of thinking beyond the square. This will not lead to instant popularity; rather the opposite in fact. But it may one day lead you to the highest awards the profession can offer. Good Luck!

In this issue A wide range of contributions: eclectic, catholic, beginning with Kay Barney's extract from her report to the Aurora Foundation Board on the 2003 Aurora Leadership Institute, in which she gives us her insights into the transforming nature of Aurora's processes and the alchemy wrought by leaders, mentors and ultimately the Aurorans themselves as they struggle with what it means to be a leader (see also Russell Cope's review of Wittenborg, Ferguson and Keller's Reflecting on leadership). Jennifer Berryman's review of the role of public libraries in E-government reveals a potentially transforming role for these tough and adaptable institutions: not everybody will agree with her findings, but anyone with a genuine interest in the survival of this so far enduring institution would have to take them seriously. Kate Burnham's Jean Arnot Fellowship-winning essay 'The librarians' pay equity case 2002' looks at the processes (not always pretty, as few industrial negotiations are), often exhaustive and exhausting, undergone by the members of the Working Party established by the NSW Library Industry Working Group. Not all the adversaries were on the employers' side. Within the union itself, and from colleagues in a related sector the Working Party had to deal with indifference and opposition shading into downright sabotage. More power to them therefore for sticking it out over the six years that they were involved. David Jones takes us on a guided tour through some of 'The critical issues in library planning' as experienced in New South Wales: many public library buildings there are due for renewal, and David reports that there are about fifty current projects underway at the moment. Like Jennifer Berryman he thinks flexibility - in location, concept, planning, construction and use - is essential. Like the institutions he discusses, David's career has evolved so that he is now the State Library's Library Building Consultant and heads up its Building and Planning Advisory Service and has been involved in over 200 library building projects in Australia and overseas. Jenny Ellis and Fiona Salisbury from the University of Melbourne report on the continuation of their researches into what entry-level students actually know about searching the web, using library catalogues and deconstructing reading lists. They operate on the premise that students learn best when new learning acknowledges and builds on prior knowledge. Nearly thirty-five years ago the birth of the library college was announced, an institution in which librarians would also teach, and although that concept is now seen to have been somewhat overblown, it is clear that many librarians are now teaching - and very effectively - the information literacy skills which are a sine qua non in the modern university. Dirk Spennemann and Jon O'Neill report on a minor cultural tragedy - the neglect and decay of what was once a unique and thriving private library - or rather museum - on Likiep Atoll in the Marshall Islands. Through their appalled eyes we can glimpse in detail the decay and disappearance of a collection whose provenance and history would have fed a small handful of doctorates. If you ever doubted the importance of professional conservation, the story they recount will convince you that you were wrong.

In short, it is a stimulating final issue for the year, and the sting in the tail is the score or so of book reviews at the end: if you want a bird's eye view of current thinking - of the authors of the books reviewed and that of our perceptive and often critical reviewers - this is the place to go. And you might like to give a thought to becoming one of our reviewers yourself!

Finally, my thanks to all those who have contributed to another successful year for the Journal: authors, especially the first-timers who have braved our pages, reviewers, correspondents, referees. Special appreciation to Emma Davis of ALIA's National Office for her competence, flexibility, tolerance - and not least for her sharp and perceptive eye. I also serve as chair of the Publications and Editorial Review Board, PERG as it is known, and in both capacities I acknowledge the support of Ivan Trundle who is ALIA's manager, communications and publishing (and webmaster). Behind both of these supportive colleagues lies the executive director, a friendly and supportive ear, and a fellow-aficionado of The Algonquin. To all of these, and to the Journal's many readers, my very best wishes for the coming year.