A Brief History of Libraries - Or, How Did We Get Here?
A Brief History of Libraries - Or, How Did We Get Here?
The ancient Greeks had an “app for that,” or at least a story. From Pandora to
Prometheus the heroes in their myths have trouble with powerful inventions—by
misusing them, stealing them from peevish gods, or failing to grasp their future
ramifications. Theseus, for example, trapped in the Minotaur’s maze, escaped
only by following a length string that Ariadne had secretly given him. That
slender string kept Theseus linked to the outside world as he penetrated deeper
into Daedalus’s labyrinth and into the Minotaur’s lair. Even though Theseus was
eventually forced to abandon Ariadne on the island of Naxos and inadvertently
drove his father to suicide, he was the lucky one. Everyone else who took on the
maze and the Mino- taur died in the process. We all know what happened to
Daedalus’s son, too, when the father-son duo fled the half-crazed kingdom of
Minos on wings made of wax and feathers (Nowadays some precocious
programmer might call this “i-carus,” the app that guarantees digital filial
obedience.)
PART 1: Background
In some ways the myth of Theseus mirrors the contemporary Internet user experience.
The myth suggests that any system—be it physical, psychological, or informational—that
confounds its users becomes a dangerous one. Losing the con- nection with the real world
in the twists and turns of life is an experience akin to death. What is at stake in the current
incarnation of the web is the basis of knowl- edgeable existence itself. When one can no
longer draw the thread between pieces of verifiable information, meaning gets lost, and
that loss of meaning contributes to the death of knowledge and the ultimate decline of a
culture. Think “digital Dark Ages,” but not as a loss of access to information—as an
undifferentiated glut of bits and bytes jumbled together and reconstituted at will by
unseen and unknown forces whose motives are not discernible.
Libraries have made the attempt for centuries to ensure that the strings bind- ing
information together remain intact. In the past, this was easier, as the amount of published
and archival work was much lower and therefore more manageable. Binding books;
creating physical spaces as safe repositories; and hand copying or printing multiple,
4
high-quality versions were all effective ways of preserving knowledge and ensuring that
it remained bound to its culture and rooted in truth. Of course, the calamities of history—
including the burning and ransacking of libraries; cultural revolutions; and even moths,
roaches, and book beetles—have taken their toll on the strings binding traditions together.
The lost works of Aristo- tle and the meager fragments of Sappho are but two examples of
the Fate-severed strings of Western culture. The ancient library of Alexandria, which in
its prime supposedly held five hundred thousand volumes within its walls, stands as the
great example of a lost culture (Knuth 2003).
Yet even in antiquity people despaired at information overload and the lack
of facile resource management. In her 2011 book Too Much to Know: Managing
Scholarly Information Before the Modern Age Blair suggests that every age has had
to deal with information overload.1 Ecclesiastes 12:12 tells readers to be cautious
of too many books.2 hippocrates in 400 BC tells us, “Ars longa, vita brevis,
occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile,” which can be
translated as “Technique long, life short, opportunity fleeting, experience
perilous, and deci- sion difficult.” Contrary to the oversimplified translation “Art
lasts, life [is] short,” hippocrates instead may have been suggesting that because
the acquisition of a skill or a body of knowledge takes a long time, human life is
too short in comparison, and the mind is too limited to wield all this learning to
perfection.
By the thirteenth century learned people were trying to cope with ever more
information. The Dominican Vincent of Beauvais laments on “the multitude of
Chapter 5: 1:
Chapter A Brief History
A Brief of of
History Libraries—or, How
Libraries—or, DidDid
How WeWe
Get
Get Here?
Here?
books, the shortness of time and the slipperiness of memory.” The printing press
was still two hundred years away, yet people felt dismay at the growth of informa-
tion. The problem has only grown exponentially since then, even as new
technolo- gies have been developed to better meet the problems of information
overload.
The discussion thus far has been limited primarily to resource access and the
prob- lems of information management in traditional bricks-and-mortar
libraries, with a brief nod toward digital models. however, this doesn’t address
where the idea for a virtual library began. Certain technologies, economies of
scale, and societal advancements needed to exist before the dream of a digital
library (DL) could be
PART 1: Background
realized. As in all historical events that seem inevitable, we will see that a large number of
developments had to occur simultaneously before the final product could be realized.
The digital library wouldn’t exist without the modern fundamental concept and
philosophy of the term digital. While this is a word that appears even in Middle English—
referring mostly to counting numbers less than ten fingers—according to the online
version of Oxford English Dictionary (www.oed.com), the first men- tion of the modern
concept of digital is in the US Patent 2,207,537 from 1940, which defined the idea as “the
transmission of direct current digital impulses over a long line the characteristics of the
line tend to mutilate the wave shape.” From this patent, essentially redefining the word as
a series of on-off, zero-one switches, the modern digital era was born.
The idea for the first digital library, however, is a little more difficult to pin
down. The first mention, and likely most influential inspiration for modern com-
puting, is the Memex from Vannevar Bush’s well-known 1945 article “As We May
6
Think.” Bush described his invention:
[It is] a device in which an individual stores all his books, records,
and communications, and which is mechanized so that it may be
consulted with exceeding speed and flexibility. It is an enlarged
intimate supple- ment to his memory.
It consists of a desk, and while it can presumably be operated
from a distance, it is primarily the piece of furniture at which he
works. On the top are slanting translucent screens, on which material
can be projected for convenient reading. There is a keyboard, and sets
of but- tons and levers. Otherwise it looks like an ordinary desk.4
and desktop publishing applications were developed. The writing and production phases
of the text cycle were thus digitized, but the applications were primarily designed to
facilitate print production.”
Information retrieval systems began at this time as well with the appearance of Lexis
for legal information, Dialog, Orbit, and BRS/Search systems (Lesk 2012). Even though
the Library of Congress had pioneered electronic book indexing with the MARC record in
1969, it wasn’t until the 1980s that the online catalog became widespread (Lesk 2012). By
the early 1990s the field of information retrieval and its dream of the digital library were
on their way to full realization.
When Edward Fox in 1993 looked back on his early days at Massachusetts
8
Institute of Technology (MIT) under Licklider, he was able to say with great
certainty that “technological advances in computing and communication now
make digital libraries feasible; economic and political motivation make them
inevitable” (79). he had good reason to be optimistic in his assessment. By this
point in time ARPAnet had been around for twenty-four years, the Internet had
been born, hypertext developed as a force in the 1980s under such projects as
Ted Nelson’s Xanadu, Brown University’s IRIS Project, and Apple’s hyperCard
(Fox 1993). The 1990s also saw the development of the hTML protocol, which
then gave way to XML and its strong, yet interoperable, framework (Fox 1993).
Along with the philosophical framework and software development in the 1980s
and 1990s, there was also developing a solid information infrastructure and
network from such schemes as Ethernet, asynchronous transfer modes that
pushed data transfer speeds from thousands of bits per second to billions (Fox
1993).
By the early to mid-1990s many publishers, libraries, and universities were
able to try their hand at creating their own digital collections. Oxford began the
Oxford Text Archive, the Library of Congress developed its American Memory
Project, and even the French government had planned to digitally scan one
million books in the French National Library (Fox 1993).
At this time, multiple visions of what a digital library might entail were
also beginning to take form. A digital library was at this point “a broad term
encompassing scholarly archives, text collections, cultural heritage, and educational
resource sites” (hillesund and Noring 2006, para. 1). There was little consensus
Chapter 1: A Brief History of Libraries—or, How Did We Get Here?
Community Technology
Services Content
10 FIGURE 1.1
The four dimensions of digital library progress.
Image redrawn with permission by authors after Marchionini and Fox (1999).
from that time to more than 4,600 books. Its organization has taken care to
curate a small but diverse collection of children’s books. It also devised uniquely
child-centric methods of searching, including employing a bright, cartoonish
user interface and developing a search to identify books by the color of their
covers
Once social media began to affect online accessibility and change how users
approached online content, digital libraries reached a critical mass. Around 2005
the aggregation of content from various sources—crowdsourcing, in a sense—
began to have an impact on content development. This, as we will see in the next
chapter, was spurred in large part by Google and its ambitious announcement
that it would digitize every book in the world (Jeanneney 2007).
however, along with the current aggregation of digitized content, born-digital
books have also begun to drive content development. At the present date, e-books 11
and their content-delivery hardware devices are starting to finally take off as
viable alternatives to print books. In one study released in 2012, the number of
Americans using e-books increased from 16 percent to 23 percent in one year.6 It
may be that the third phase of the digital library will also see the simultaneous
development of mobile devices providing access to the traditional bound long-
form narrative. Already books of many types—including directories, textbooks,
trade publications, and travel guides—are born digital. This lack of physical form
will have a profound impact on the way that people use and process “linear,
narrative book-length treatments” (hahn 2008, 20). Certainly new technologies
are adopted and adapted in ways that their original creators never intended. It
remains to be seen how and in what manner these technologies will be
implemented most effectively.
To end this section, it is important to remember that cautionary tales exist
even in the digital library world, despite its relatively recent appearance. One
of the largest digitization projects during the late 1990s and early 2000s was
Carnegie Mellon’s Million Books Project. By 2007, it had finished its mission
of digitizing and placing online a full collection of books in various languages.
Unfortunately, much like the ICDL and its small-scale collection, the Million
Books Project has been superseded by the next generation of massive digital
libraries. Currently the software and servers for the Million Books Project—now
known as the Universal Digital Library (www.ulib.org)—are not well
maintained. Sustainability, so eloquently defined and described on the Universal
Digital Library’s
PART 1: Background
informational pages, is proving to be much less possible than anticipated. The unclear fate
of this project—it’s still available online but has neither been updated nor improved upon
—provides us a glimpse into the likely future of many current digital projects. They
become more examples of technology relegated to Trotsky’s “dustbin of history,” now
providing more of a precariously unstable web history lesson than a useful service.