The Australian Library Journal

From vigilance to vigilante

John Levett

In the weeks following the Twin Towers disaster, Blind Freddy could have predicted some of the consequences for Western society: the accentuation of the authoritarian strand in the human psyche, as deep-rooted as it is widespread; restrictions on travel; closer scrutiny of all of us especially at critical intersections such as airports; a diminution of freedom of access to institutions such as universities, and consequently to their rich information resources; a more strident tone in the ever-present chorus of pundits; a shift to the right ['the right is might'] in politics and its undertones; the hectoring chord in popular journalism rises by an octave, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Equally predictable is the phenomenon of the unintended consequence: knitting and embroidery are no longer welcome as a means of occupying long-distance air travellers: access to certain chemical fertilisers in bulk is no longer possible: nor can you pop down to the local flying school and ask for flight time in the left-hand seat in the cockpit of a commercial airliner. Some of these restrictions are more irritating and affective than others, and such infringements of personal privacy are not new, witness the National Archives' Fact Sheet 69 ASIO files on writers and literary groups: but the general trend as in all such circumstances is to give encouragement to those in our society who emerge, in Doris Lessing's words, in the always polished jackboots which lie in the cupboard awaiting the call to exercise authority over their fellow citizens. It is a metaphor, of course: there are very few [I hope] actual jackboots in this country.

But the point stands. We are all now much more watchful than in the recent past: we are alert, if not alarmed. We scrutinise the actions of our fellows, and are encouraged by the hysterical note in certain sections of the popular press to act as vigilantes, witness the persecution of paedophiles. The latent anger which now simmers in many of us and is currently manifest in various species of rage - road, queue, trolley - washes away that layer of civility which makes life in society tolerable and is accentuated by the gnawing concerns which arise from being exposed to - paradoxically - far too much information in the shape of news. It also powers a significant proportion of participants in talk-back radio, underlies the increasing tendency to litigiousness and mere spite in this country.

Given this background, some occupations become more exposed to scrutiny, even attack: obstetricians; general practitioners; teachers; certain sectors of the clergy, and those who work in the information industry, including call centre operatives, lawyers, librarians. There have already been two reported incidents in which public librarians have been intimidated by police - or their local government CEO - into giving access [in one case in the shape of an entire hard drive] to records of their patrons and their use of materials.

ALIA's Directors presently have under consideration a third draft [it is a complex issue] of a set of guidelines as to what one might do in such circumstances: a valuable and informative first advisory appeared in inCite in July 2004 'When the police visit your library' by Colette Ormonde. If you missed it, it is worth revisiting and perhaps using it to inform your colleagues of the issues involved, and as a basis for interim policy. But whatever guidelines are given and from whichever authority, as in all professional contexts, it will be a matter for the individual and informed practitioner to make judgments and to decide whether to stand or run: this is one of the characteristics of a profession. But our first loyalty is to our patrons, qua patrons: the principle of privacy is well embedded in law, and may not easily be violated: and that of intellectual freedom is one of the pillars of our professional ethos. And to quote Colette Ormond:

The search, seizure and entry provisions of state laws, which have largely superseded common law protections of citizen's rights, require police to apply for a search warrant or a court order and to produce it with a copy for the recipient. The warrant contains details of the 'reasonable grounds for believing...' that access to particular records is necessary and that their action is concerned with stated indictable offences [my emphasis JL]. It is not an offence in Australian law to read about guns, bombs or weapons of mass destruction or to discuss them.

And further:

Library staff should not surrender information without a court order or a warrant. Even our new terrorism laws require authorisation of such invasion of privacy. Apart from ethical considerations, staff might be releasing information about a user's name and address in breach, not only of privacy principles, but of specific protection, such as a domestic violence order. Police are required to give a receipt for the items they confiscate (with sufficient detail to identify the items accurately). This is a protection for both parties.

The Glasgow Declaration underlines this position:

Libraries and information services shall protect each user's right to privacy and confidentiality with respect to information sought or received and resources consulted, borrowed, acquired or transmitted...

From The Glasgow Declaration on Libraries, Information Services and Intellectual Freedom, Proclaimed by the Council of IFLA 19 August 2002, Glasgow, Scotland.

The Draft ALIA Policy as it stands is an invaluable first resort, and presumably would be made available to any member in need. It stands on the principle of privacy, and provides guidelines for the formulation of a statement of principles which, if adopted by the institution which the library serves, would provide a bulwark against over-zealous citizenry or an enthusiastic constabulary. The fundamental issue is that even under the new and swingeing powers conferred on ASIO, a warrant is a sine qua non, an essential preliminary to discussion.

Fishing excursions, in which a third party trawls through records maintained by an institution on the possibility of finding evidence are ultra vires, and any warrant must be quite specific as to what is being sought. To quote Colette Ormonde once more:

...managers of libraries must have a policy and a contingency plan covering the possible actions of police and other law enforcement agencies relating to library users and to library staff. Such policies need to be developed with legal advice and translated into contingency plans which all staff have access to at all times. All actions which concern the safety, freedom and privacy of library patrons or staff should be documented at the time, library staff should have immediate access to advice and direction from senior management, and management should have direct access to the organisation's legal adviser. The library policy and plan should contain specific provisions for regular training of staff in its implementation.

In short, we should in the first instance, protect the privacy of our patrons: we do not have to do this on our own. The law is on our side, and there are many people, including colleagues, who are prepared to lend support: civil liberties groups are active in all states, and many individuals in the academy maintain a watching brief.

In this issue Tara Brabazon who teaches Communication and Cultural studies argues that: 'At this time, a precise understanding and application of cultural difference, information management and critical literacy theory is an imperative, not a luxury' and discusses the differences between cultural and critical literacy. Barbara Tillett, Chief of the Cataloging Policy and Support Office at the Library of Congress, introduces the concept of 'Functional Requirements for Bibliographic Records' [FRBR], and Bemal Rajapatirana and Roxanne Missingham take the concept a stage further in examining the Australian National Bibliographic Database and FRBR. Marie-Louise Ayres gives us two case studies in the implementation of FRBR: AustLit and MusicAustralia. Graeme Powell examines the century-old tussle over the nation's 'title deeds', and Paul Genoni looks at the impact of journal subscription cancellations across the CAUL and CASL jurisdictions and comes up with a surprising conclusion. All this plus a quota of eminently readable book reviews. Welcome to 2005!