My wife and I enjoy watching foreign, independent, and small production house movies—basically anything that’s not Hollywood. A topic frequently dealt with in the movies we gravitate toward (as recommended by Netflix) involves the struggles faced by immigrant persons and families as they try to negotiate the unfamiliar social and cultural environment of a foster or adopted homeland. The other evening we watched a movie entitled The Namesake, which again dealt with this topic.

The movie was pretty good. But what does this have to do with Google Books? Well, the plot of the movie swirled around the name of a nineteenth century Russian author, a certain Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol. I was so intriqued by this Gogol fellow (I confess that I had never heard about him before) that after the movie was over I immediately got out my laptop computer and searched for information about him, and for some stuff he had written. After learning that Gogol lived and wrote in the nineteenth century, I wondered if I could find anything he had written among the public domain titles at Google Books. Sure enough, after a quick search I found a 1917 Alfred A. Knopf edition of Tarus Bulba: A Tale of the Cossacks, translated by Isabel F. Hapgood. Cool. (Hmm, that’s interesting—finding Gogol on Google.)

I knew I could download the book as a pdf, and this would be fine for reading on my computer. But as I earlier described, pdfs are not ideal for reading on small screen mobile hand-held devices like my iPod touch. When I clicked on the download link for Tarus Bulba in Google Books, I noticed something new. In addition to pdf, I was also given the option of downloading the book in epub format.

Epub is a rapidly developing open standard based on XML for the creation, publishing, and distribution of reflowable digital books and publications. A significant barrier to e-book adoption in the market (and society at large) today is the proliferation of proprietary and high-priced devices coupled with inflexible file format support. The promise of epub as a file format standard is device independence. Although issues remain (e.g., digital rights management, including use and re-use rights for book buyers, etc.), with a standard electronic book format authors and publishers can at least get past the uncertainty of volatile and competing delivery technologies. The book itself can easily adapt as needed to life on a reader’s cellphone, media player, hand-held, tablet, or desktop computer.

That Google Books is supporting epub in its public domain offerings is an exciting development, and a neat discovery. I have been so busy that I missed the announcement from Google on August 26. Of the roughly 1.5 million public domain titles on Google Books, over 1 million are now accessible and downloadable in epub format. Wow!

I will spend more time watching the development and adoption of the epub standard. But an immediate consequence of Google making its epub versions publicly downloadable is that I no longer have to make use of the Barnes & Noble eReader work-around. I was never really happy about that. I endured it as the only option at the time. In order to use it, I had to create a Barnes & Noble online account, give a credit card number, search for and “purchase” books (even though they were free) through their online store interface, and then read the books with their commercially branded reader.

To be clear, you still cannot download books (in either pdf or epub) from the browser-based Google Books site on your mobile device. The mobile site is browse, search, and read online only, and requires an active internet connection. However, there is a free software solution on the iPhone/iPod touch, an epub compatible e-book reader called Stanza that can establish a direct download connection with Google Books. (There is also a desktop version of Stanza available for reading and syncing content between your computer and iPod.)

When you launch Stanza you see a Library of previously downloaded Titles, Authors, etc. To access more books, click on the Online Catalog button. This takes you to a pre-installed list of commercial and free e-book sources.

Click on the “+” button to add a link to Google Books.

Click “Add Web Page,” type “Google Books,” add the URL, and then click Save. Google Books is now added to your e-book source list in Stanza. Click this link to launch Google Books within Stanza.

Since you are viewing Google Books as a web page you will have to zoom in to navigate around to the search box and genre lists. For convenience of this demo, I simply clicked on the link to an edition of Friedrich Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra that came up under Classics.

Zoom in and click on the EPUB download link. Stanza will ask you to confirm by clicking on the “Download” button.

In a moment the downloaded e-book will be added to your Library within Stanza. It’s that easy. Read at your leisure.

At a later point I will offer a more in-depth review of Stanza. (For example, Amazon Kindle readers will be interested to know that the desktop version of Stanza can convert epub into Kindle compatible book files!) Not having a mobile version of Google Books from which to download e-books in Stanza is a minor annoyance. But it is far easier and less icky than having to mess with Barnes & Noble for free books.

I just downloaded the Barnes & Noble eReader application for my iPod touch (link connects to App Store in iTunes). I don’t know if I should be saying this so directly, but the most exciting prospect for this application isn’t so much the ability to purchase e-books from Barnes & Noble. Rather, it’s that I now have a way to access and download among the hundreds of thousands of public domain e-books on Google Book Search. In an attempt to do a one-up on Amazon’s Kindle e-book service (which also has its own iPod/iPhone application [review forthcoming]), Barnes & Noble has teamed with Google to make 500,000 of its public domain titles available for free download through their online store.

In an earlier post I told you about the mobile-aware web page Google has provided to access Google Book Search public domain titles via your device’s browser. Although an awesome resource, I indicated one major limitation—you can’t download books to your device. All reading must be done online from within the browser. If I’m not near a wifi hotspot, I’m out of luck. (Computer users of Google Book Search have always been able to download complete public domain e-books as pdfs. I have several apps for uploading and viewing pdfs from my computer to iPod. But pdf files do not reformat on the iPod’s small screen. Scrolling and zooming of larger files is a real pain, and the reading experience is not ideal.)

Now it would seem that Barnes & Noble has come to my rescue. (Google and Sony did a similar deal for the Sony Reader back in March.) The end-product is pretty good. But considering my primary intention (getting free e-books from Google onto my iPod), the process is strangely round-about. Here is what I had to do to get started:

1) I launched the eReader app. The reader was preloaded with a couple of free books (Last of the Mohicans and Little Women), and looked very similar to the eReader app I already had on my iPod distributed by Fictionwise, Inc. (a Barnes & Noble company, incidentally).

2) I clicked on “Shop for eBooks,” which launched the Barnes & Noble online store in my web browser. I quickly discovered that before I could download any books, even free titles, I had to create an account. This required that I provide a credit card number. I initially felt mildly offended by this. “Why should I have to provide a credit card number to download free books?” But then it dawned on me that Barnes & Noble (and also Google for that matter) is trying to run a business, not give away books (duh!).

3) All searching and browsing happens through the B&N online store in the browser. I can do this from my iPod, or my computer. I decided to search for Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

4) The search results default to “Top Matches.” Notice that the first several hits in this search are not free. I can scroll through all the results. But (here’s a tip) if I re-sort the results by “Price” it brings the free titles to the top of the list.

5) Notice the badge “From Google Books” under the free titles. I scroll down until I find a copy of the edition I’m after, and click “Get Free eBook.” If I’m not already signed into my B&N account, I will be prompted to do so. I confirm my purchase. I also receive an email with the purchase confirmation. When I relaunch Barnes & Noble eReader, I see the book downloaded to my local library. I click on the title and start reading! Best of all, the book resides on my iPod. I can read it any time. No internet connection required.

Images and scans (e.g., title pages) are downloaded as is, and cannot be reformatted. However, text in the eReader can be formatted to a different font and size, etc. to facilitate ease of reading. (More on this if I decide to write a general review about the Barnes & Noble eReader and online store in another post.)

It still feels weird to have one commercial entity serve as an intermediary for another commercial entity as a way for me to get free content. I’m pretty used to this from Google because they have built their business model around ad-supported content and paid premium services. But how will Barnes & Noble views this? I mean, if I just download free e-books all the time, and never actually spend any money, will I start getting nasty email from them threatening to cut me off? I’ll let you know.

Librarian John W. Neth, Jr., with his student assistants. Photograph from the 1954 Milligan College yearbook.

The other day a professor colleague handed me a photocopy of an article he stumbled across while browsing back issues of The Stampede, Milligan College’s student run newspaper. The article was entitled “Library News,” and was dated Tuesday, October 15, 1953.

The article reported on the recent arrival of the new librarian, John W. Neth, Jr., and changes he was instituting in the Library. In 1953, the Milligan College Library was not housed in its own building, but occupied several rooms in Derthick Hall, the main administration and classroom building. A floor plan of the reorganized library was included in the article.

I read the article with a mixture of amusement over how much has changed in libraries and librarianship over the past 55 years, and admiration over how much has remained the same.

The users of the Milligan College Library are noting a definite trend toward a more efficient arrangement of the available facilities in relation to usability…[The] atmosphere of the library is taking on an air of interest.

Giving priority to “usability” and providing an “atmosphere of interest” for users remain very important in the contemporary library. Of course, deference to the user had its definite limits.

[T]hese changes have been accompanied by correspondingly necessary rules.

Well sure, we still have “rules” today—print periodicals and reference works do not circulate, and we still expect the “return of circulated books on or before the due date”—but we have broken down other long-standing library mores. We no longer prohibit “bringing…soft drinks namely cokes, into the library,” and student discussions (talking) in the library are no longer limited to “subjects relative to their search.” Today we merely ask students who bring food or drink in the library to clean-up after themselves, and while we no longer shush students for talking, we do ask that they consider and respect their neighbors as they interact. 

The old rules reflect an understanding of the library as a place primarily where information resources are stored and searched. Emphasis was placed on protecting these resources and controlling the study environment. Today we have a primary desire to make the library a more open and welcoming place. We are less obsessed with control. We recognize that learning is a social activity, and learning is best facilitated when the study environment is comfortable and (even) domestic (I got this term from Scott Bennett).

In 1953, students had to come to the library because that was the only place where information resources could be accessed. Today, while we still stock our physical shelves with physical books to support the research needs of our students, the storage function of the library has diminished significantly in the face of anywhere/anytime access of information resources in electronic format just a few clicks away, starting from the library website. Students no longer have to come to the library. Whether or not they will depends on the library being more than a storage facility. The question of whether the relaxation of “rules” is pandering to the user, as I imagine Mr. Neth might have insisted, is way past moot. The role of the library itself has changed that much.

But what about the role of the librarian? Rule 5 presents an interesting paradox:

The last resort in any research problem is seeking the assistance of the Librarian. [Consult] the Card Catalog, the encyclopedia and dictionaries, the special reference collection and periodical indexes, and then finally consult the Librarian. However, no one should leave the library without an answer to the question at hand until all the above have been consulted.

The last resort?! At first I was taken aback by the brashness of wording that could be construed as communicating the librarian’s time was too important to be pestered by students seeking assistance with their research questions. But in fairness to Mr. Neth, he was the only full-time staff person, running all the functions of the library with the help of some student workers. (Today we have three full-time librarians, a part-time librarian, two part-time paraprofessionals, and a small army of student workers.) Even considering that the library was significantly smaller in 1953, Mr. Neth’s time was definitely at a premium.

Seen more positively, this rule (even if originally motivated by pragmatic concern) provoked students to take greater ownership for the research process, and propagated in them a self-service attitude well before its time. Although there are still students who come into the library (often at the last minute) hoping that a librarian will do all their resource searching work for them (yeah right), the democratization of information access fostered by the Web has encouraged all of us to rely less on professionals and experts as authoritative mediators—at least initially. We like being able to seek-out our own answers. The librarian’s role has shifted from mediating information to instructing students how to search effectively for information, and how to better evaluate the quality and relevance of that information for the intended use. Librarians are also more involved educationally in getting students to think-through their research topics, and composing a managable thesis. We then set them loose. Assuming we aren’t leaving students entirely to their own devices as we endorse a self-service attitude, the rule has a very contemporary ring to it. I like it.

I also like the way the article closes. Mr. Neth expressess a key affirmation of the function academic libraries should play on every college or university campus—both symbolically and in actuality. This affirmation remains every bit as timely and relevant today as it did over half a century ago:

The library is the hub about which the academic wheel of education turns. It is as much a tool in the process of gaining knowledge as is any other individual tool in that program. 

PROLOGUE

The following is the text of a proposal I prepared in 2004 for a Research Methods course while a graduate student in the School of Information Resources and Library Science, University of Arizona (Tucson). I offer it here as a follow-up to my post of February 22, 2009: “When you’re used to paper rolls it takes some time to convert to turning pages of a book.”

The proposal is entitled “Christians and the Codex: ‘Early Adopters’ of New Media Technology.” It appears from available manuscript evidence of the first few centuries of the Common Era that Christian communities—as a minority social group—showed a distinct preference for the codex book form than what was true for majority Roman society. It is a question of some interest why this was so, and has led to further questions into what role, if any, these Christian communities may have played in contributing to the eventual diffusion and adoption of the codex into majority society, and its subsequent triumph as the ubiquitous book form we know today. Many scholars have pursued answers to these questions. My purpose was to possibly offer another methodological lens for looking at the problem. Of course, I was spared the real hard work because the assignment was to develop the proposal, not conduct the actual research.

I find these historical and cultural questions intriguing in their own right, and maybe one day I will get around to some of that research work. At the moment, the most compelling aspect—as I introduced in my earlier post—is to try to imagine, by analogy, the dynamic at play as we consider adoption of the e-book as a new book form technology.

Harry Y. Gamble, Professor in Religious Studies at University of Virginia, a scholar who has inquired into these questions, and whose writing informed my proposal, later captured the essence of that dynamic (though working in reverse) when he wrote:

The gradual transition in Western Antiquity from the time-honored bookroll to the codex followed upon and imitated the popularity of the leaf-book in early Christianity, and specifically in connection with the formation of the Christian Bible. This was a monumental change in the history of the book. In significance it is sometimes compared to the invention of movable type in the fifteenth century…But the transition to the codex is perhaps more aptly compared to the advent of electronic texts in the late twentieth century, which even now is revolutionizing the way texts are made, accessed, and stored. In both cases we have to do with a major change in the format of texts, and consequently in the means of producing and using them. It may well be that for readers of the not-to-distant future the word “book” will automatically conjure the meaning “e-book” rather than the leaf-book that it suggests to us, or the bookroll that it designated in pre-Christian Antiquity. (Bible and book. In M. P. Brown (Ed.), In the Beginning: Bibles Before the Year 1000 (p. 16, emphasis mine). Washington, D.C.: Freer Gallery of Art & Arthur M. Sackler Gallery (distributed by Smithsonian Books), 2006.)

It turns out that a clear and definitive answer to the question of why early Christians preferred the codex book form continues to evade scholarship. Even a recent work by Larry Hurtado (The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and Christian Origins. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2006) ultimately disappoints. After insightfully critiquing the proposals of others, Hurtado himself sends us away largely empty-handed. Toward the end of a section entitled: Why Did Christians Prefer the Codex? Hurtado writes: “It is not my primary purpose here to argue for a particular answer to the questions involved…[M]y main emphasis in this discussion is that the early Christian use of the codex is an important matter worthy of attention by all scholars concerned with Christian origins” (pp. 80-81). O-O-O-K…

Maybe the question is unanswerable given the current state of our knowledge. The physical evidence in favor of the codex is indisputable. But motivational questions (Why?) are notoriously difficult for historians to answer. My research proposal would likely lead to a similar dead-end. But still I wondered whether a social-scientific approach might yield a different way of looking at the available evidence.

I decided to share my proposal essentially as I wrote it in 2004. I would be interested in your comments. Compared to five years ago, I think I am now very much more interested in wondering if a diffusion of innovation study on the adoption of the codex book form could provide us with any insights into the process of how the e-book might gain ascendancy as the book form of choice in our society. Notice my reference to reading an e-book at the time—George Orwell’s 1984—on a Palm handheld device! I think I meant that to be vaguely ironic.

Christians and the Codex: ‘Early Adopters’ of New Media Technology
Research Proposal
Gary F. Daught
April 26, 2004

Introduction
For at least 1,500 years the dominant and virtually unrivaled form of the book in Western civilization (and beyond) has been the codex. Roberts and Skeat (1983) concisely define a codex as “a collection of sheets of any material, folded double and fastened together at the back or spine, and usually protected by covers” (p. 1). The sheer longevity of the codex book form evidences it as an effective and efficient media technology. Subsequent inventions in printing, paper, and binding further revolutionized the book production process. But these have been improvements of degree. The essential form of the codex has remained unchanged.

I intentionally stress the codex as a book form as making a distinction from book content. It is true that the codex form has an impact upon how content in a book is organized and presented, but content itself is largely independent of form (which is the container and delivery mechanism of content). There were and are alternatives for delivering book content. Considering the long and ubiquitous nature of codex use worldwide this is no longer easily appreciated. Most people are not even familiar with the word “codex,” but that does not stop them from using the word “book” as a virtual synonym.

It is interesting to consider the codex as the dominant and entrenched book form at a time when a revolution in electronic and digital technology is presenting us with potential new book alternatives. I am currently reading George Orwell’s 1984 as an e-book on my Palm handheld computer. Is it possible that digital book content, delivered via various electronic devices will eventually unseat the codex as the dominant form of the book? How would such a profound shift come about?

In the present study proposal, I do not intend to address the developments in digital media technology that are leading to new book forms. I only raise the question as an analogy to prime my thinking about how technological change of this nature is adopted by a community or society. (This may come full-circle, however, when I consider how the results of my study might be generalized.) I am much more interested in the second question. But again, I appreciate that such a question involves a complex set of answers that touch on numerous aspects of human society and culture. I will necessarily limit my scope to an investigation into a particular case of early adoption of the codex book form that may have contributed to its eventual dominance.

Background to the Problem (integrated with a Literature Review)
The codex appears to have been a Roman invention, whose formal predecessor (of much greater antiquity) was the tablet notebook. The tablet notebook was composed of thin wooden boards joined together at one edge by a cord, and whitened to receive carbon ink or coated with wax to receive inscription with a stylus. The word codex (plural codices) derives from the Latin for a piece of wood, likely referring to the tablet notebook. A later development replaced wooden boards with sheets of leather, parchment (membranae), or papyrus (from Egypt). This development made the notebook lighter, easier to handle, and capable of greater capacity. But the tablet notebook was used primarily for impermanent writing activities, such as recordkeeping, transcription, and school exercises. As Gamble (1992) writes: “[In] its purely functional status as a notebook [the codex] was not immediately regarded as a proper book, that is, a medium of literature” (p. 1067).

A late first and second century (CE) satirist by the name of Martial, along with a book publisher named Secundus, appears to have made an early attempt to generate interest in the codex as a legitimate literary book form. As a true entrepreneur, Martial even wrote poetic “commercials” to promote the advantages of this particular form:

You want to take my poems wherever you go,
As companions say, on a trip to some distant land?
Buy this. It’s packed tight into parchment pages, so,
Leave your rolls at home, for this takes just one hand! (quoted in Casson, p. 104)

The last line of the poem makes the key point. Martial’s parchment codex was an innovation proposed against the traditional and widely accepted literary book form, the roll (Latin uolumen, our ‘volume’). Notwithstanding the practical advantages of the codex, Martial and Secundus’ “experiment…of practical Latin genius” was deemed a failure in the face of the very strong influence of Greek cultural conventions upon the Romans of the second century (Roberts and Skeat, p. 29).

Although parchment (made of processed animal skins) eventually replaced papyrus for (roll and codex) book manufacture, scholarship has laid to rest the long-held assumption that papyrus was somehow an inferior material. The issue seems rather to have turned on supply at various times and localities. Egypt was the Empire-wide producer of papyrus. But local disruptions (e.g., during times of war) could jeopardize supply. Meanwhile, parchment (once the procedure for its manufacture was mastered) could be produced anywhere. It is this fact, not the comparative quality of material, which may have eventually won the day for parchment (Roberts and Skeat, pp. 5-10). However, in the period under investigation (1st to 5th centuries) codices of both parchment and papyrus were common.

Martial appears to have failed to generate sufficient interest in the codex as a literary book form in Rome. Indeed, analysis of available manuscript evidence (excluding Christian literature) suggests subsequent adoption of the codex occurred only very gradually. Parity between roll and codex was not attained until roughly two centuries later (300 CE). During the 4th century the figure rises to about 74%. And by the 5th century the figure is roughly 90%.

The picture appears dramatically different when considering specifically Christian literature, where notebook-style codices (primarily of papyrus) are being utilized as the preferred form already by the beginning of the second century. Of the available manuscript evidence dated to the second century roughly 90% are codices! (See further in Roberts and Skeat, pp. 38-44; Gamble (1995), pp. 49-66; Turner, pp. 89-185; Aland and Aland, pp. 75-76, 83-102.) Gamble (1995) suggests an initial transitional use for codex notebooks in the Christian community—a sort of hybrid between notebooks and literary books. The aim was to secure written copies of important (apostolic) teachings for practical congregational use. But as the authority of these written teachings grew, the form associated with them was adopted as well.

Broad Problem Statement
The Christian community did not invent the codex book form. Yet by the second century CE it had already adopted the codex as the preferred medium for recording and disseminating its literature. This happened precisely at a time when the general Greco-Roman society did not regard the codex as an appropriate medium of literature, deferring instead to the convention of the roll. The codex was eventually adopted in the general society, but not in a majority way until the 4th century. The so-called practical advantages of the codex over the roll do not by themselves account for its ready acceptance among the Christians. Indeed, these advantages, which would have been observable by the general society, failed to generate acceptance there. Is it possible to account for the Christian community’s rapid adoption of the codex book form for literary purposes when the general society did not? Can it be demonstrated that the Christian community influenced the eventual adoption of the codex in the general society?

Theoretical Framework (integrated with a Literature Review)
Viewed conventionally, historical study seeks to reconstruct the “what really happened” of past events. Historical study has always and continues to capitalize on the retrieval and interpretation of relevant primary documents and artifacts in consultation with the parallel contemporary literature. Though no potential source of reconstructive evidence is dismissed out of hand, historians today are much more discerning and appreciate that there is no such thing as disinterested or purely “objective” historical reporting.

At the same time, historians are discovering new and fruitful insights about the past by applying methodologies typically directed to more modern anthropological, sociological, political and economic issues and problems. For example, social historian Wayne Meeks (1983) has compellingly applied social theory to the study of the early Christian movement. In rationalizing his method, Meeks writes:

To be sure, ordinary Christians did not write our texts and rarely appear in them explicitly. Yet the texts were written in some sense for them, and were used in some ways by them. If we do not ever see their world, we cannot claim to understand early Christianity…Since we do not meet ordinary early Christians as individuals, we must seek to recognize them through the collectivities to which they belonged…. It is in the hope of accomplishing this that a number of historians of early Christianity have recently undertaken to describe the first Christian groups in ways that a sociologist or anthropologist might. (p. 2)

In a similar vein, it occurred to me that perhaps the social theory of Everett M. Rogers on the ‘diffusion of innovations’ might be applicable to the current discussion. (Rogers’ book by the same title (originally published in 1962) is now in its 5th edition (2003). I had access to the 4th edition (1995).) It was Rogers who coined the term ‘early adopter,’ a term that has found its way into common parlance, especially when speaking of new technology.

Rogers defines diffusion as “the process by which an innovation is communicated through certain channels over time among the members of a social system” (p. 5). This definition exposes 4 main elements of the diffusion process: 1) the innovation; 2) communication channels; 3) time; and 4) a social system. These elements can be summarized as follows:

1) The Innovation: “an idea, practice, or object that is perceived as new by an individual or other unit of adoption” (p. 11, emphasis mine). The innovation may not be the thing itself but the use to which the thing is put. The parchment or papyrus codex was a new technology, but it existed alongside the literary book roll in its use as a notebook. The innovation came when someone (e.g., Martial) proposed that the codex could also be used as a literary book form. Rogers identified 5 characteristics of an innovation (pp. 15-16):

• Relative advantage: “[T]he degree to which an innovation is perceived as better than the idea it supercedes…The greater the perceived relative advantage of an innovation, the more rapid its rate of adoption will be.” Martial pointed to the advantages of his codex book editions over the roll. But other factors worked against him.
• Compatibility: “An idea that is incompatible with the values and norms of a social system will not be adopted as rapidly as an innovation that is compatible.” The codex notebook was not perceived to be a proper book form for literature. The Romans wanted to demonstrate that they were capable of being a cultured society. They may have adopted their bias for the roll under Greek influence.
• Complexity: “New ideas that are simpler to understand are adopted more rapidly than innovations that require the adopter to develop new skills and understandings.” Martial was able to secure a publisher who was willing (at least initially) to adapt scribal conventions to the new form. But the codex presented certain new challenges for the scriptorium. Too, “the [supposed] disadvantages of the roll…may well not have been so apparent to the second-century public” (Roberts and Skeat, p. 74; see also pp. 51-52, 73-74; and Turner, pp. 73-74).
• Trialability: The opportunity to “test drive” a new innovation without needing to fully commit to it reduces uncertainty and enhances the prospect of adoption. In addition to his own poetry, Martial appears to have promoted codex versions of classic works. Though Roberts and Skeat reject his notion, Kenyon (1932) suggests these “were not ordinary copies of the authors named, but were miniatures of some sort, presumably either extracts or epitomes [anthologies]” (p. 93). If so, could these have been published as (low cost) promotions?
• Observability: “The easier it is for individuals to see the results of an innovation, the more likely they are to adopt it.” Martial’s ability to secure a publisher/bookseller (he even gives the address to Secundus’ shop in his poem! [Casson, p. 105]) was an important step in moving private use of notebook codices into the public.

2) Communication channels: Communication is essential to the diffusion of innovations. Rogers identifies mass media channels and interpersonal channels of communication. Mass media is most effective for creating “awareness-knowledge” of an innovation. However, most people tend to make adoption decisions based on interpersonal interaction. Rogers uses the term homophily (and heterophily, its opposite) to describe “the degree to which two or more individuals who interact are similar in certain attitudes, such as beliefs, education, social status, and the like…More effective communication occurs when two or more individuals are homophilous.” Roberts and Skeat make an interesting comment regarding the Martial example: “It has been observed that the authors who appear in [Martial’s codex book] format are all classics and it is likely enough that the fashionable author or discriminating bibliophile would not readily accept a format which suggested the lecture-room or the counting-house; the inference is that these volumes were designed to appeal rather to the literate bourgeoisie” (p. 25).

3) Time: Simply put, the “innovation-decision process”—the point of an innovation’s inception to its adoption or rejection—requires time. Adoption (y-axis) is plotted over time (x-axis), and the resulting distribution is an S-shaped curve of various slopes depending upon the rates of adoption. Based upon analysis of available manuscript evidence, the diffusion and ultimate (majority) adoption of the codex as an appropriate literary book form into the general Greco-Roman society took roughly 200 years, but it does result in an S-curve. We don’t know to what degree Martial’s innovation influenced this eventual adoption. In the short-term, at least, his idea seems to have been quickly rejected. But in another sense, his contribution would have been added to all such efforts that led to eventual adoption. Rogers notes that the diffusion curve “takes off”—reaches a “critical mass”—at about a 10-25% adoption rate (p. 12). For the codex, this “critical mass” rate was not reached until sometime in the 3rd century. However, as noted, by the 4-5th century the adoption rate had shot up to 90%.

Rogers further defines the “innovation-decision process” by an individual or decision-making unit as involving 5 steps: a) coming to some knowledge of the innovation’s existence and understanding of it’s function; b) formation of a favorable or unfavorable attitude toward the innovation as a result of some persuasion; c) making a decision about adopting or rejecting the innovation; d) implementing or putting the innovation to use; and e) seeking reinforcement, or confirmation about the decision already made, which may lead to a reversal of decision “if exposed to conflicting messages about the innovation” (p. 20).

4) A Social System: Rogers notes that “diffusion occurs within a social system,” which he defines as “a set of interrelated units that are engaged in joint problem-solving to accomplish a common goal. The members or units of a social system…cooperate at least to the extent of seeking to solve a common problem in order to reach a mutual goal.” This is an involved discussion that deals with the complex interactions of social structure, social norms, change agents, decision-making processes, and the consequences of adoption or rejection of an innovation.

Rogers specifies 5 categories of adopters within a social system that are classified on the basis of innovativeness, which is “the degree to which an individual or other unit of adoption is relatively earlier in adopting new ideas than other members of a social system” (p. 261). As it happens, the distribution of these successive categories follows a Gaussian (bell-shaped) curve: the first 2.5% are called the innovators (and given the generalized character descriptor venturesome); the next 13.5% are early adopters (respect); the next 34% are called the early majority (deliberate); the next 34% (to the right of the mean) are called the late majority (skeptical); and the last 16% are called laggards (traditional) (pp. 262-280). These adopter categories would essentially line-up along the y-axis as a distribution accounting for 100% of a social system over the course of the innovation-decision process. When dealing with an ancient social system, like the Martial example, we have to infer from available evidence (which is limited) to categorize the social system along these lines. Again, Martial did not invent the notebook codex, but he did put it to a new and innovative use. So, we can say that he was an innovator. The bookseller Secundus was apparently early-on persuaded by Martial to publish his codices, so he would either join Martial as an innovator, or at the very least, an early adopter. The people who took a risk to purchase Martial’s books when they became available for sale would also be categorized as early adopters. In the short-term, the remainder of the populace in Rome that was even aware of Martial’s innovation but who rejected it (the majority) would, at best, be categorized as part of the skeptical late majority, but more probably, as traditionalist laggards. The distribution does not follow as expected if the diffusion process fails to garner enough adopters to reach “critical mass.” Of course, in this case we don’t have enough information to be more specific.

Research Hypothesis
The innovation/adoption of the notebook codex for literary book use in the Christian community (of the late 1st and 2nd century CE) occurred independently of Martial’s innovation. The literature cites Martial for shedding light on the historical development of the codex. I cite him as a contemporary example for putting the application of Rogers’ diffusion on innovations theory into a parallel/comparative context. While not proposing a new answer to the problem (I am fairly persuaded by the hypothesis put forward by Gamble (1995), pp. 58-66), Rogers’ theoretical framework does provide a new perspective for interpreting the available evidence by illuminating the social dynamics of innovation diffusion and adoption (or rejection, as in the case of Martial). I suggest that Martial was attempting to promote his innovation into a generalized social environment—the literate citizenry of the cosmopolitan city of Rome (which, at the same time, was biased by Greek cultural precedent toward use of the roll). Though he appears to have capitalized on mass media communication channels, his ‘market’ was heterophilous. The Christian community, by contrast, sought to differentiate itself from a generalized social environment. Though culturally diverse (Jewish, Greek, Roman, etc., drawn from general society), the Christian community sought to gather itself around a set of unified religious values that were intentionally aimed at transcending (or relativizing) those cultural differences. I suspect that communication channels were more interpersonal and homophilous, and the construct of their social system was more congenial to an innovation that was compatible with and reinforcing of their internal values and norms. This focus on internal values and a differentiated identity over against “the outside world” accelerated adoption of this initially practical and eventually characteristic technological medium—the codex as a literary book form. Once established internally, use of the codex became observable by the general Greco-Roman society (through Christian missionary efforts, etc.). While not causing its general adoption, the improved status of the Christian community and the recognition of the Christian religion in the Empire by the early 4th century certainly contributed to the stabilization of the codex book form from that time into the present.

Research Methodology
A diffusion study is interested in determining innovation adoption (or rejection) rates as a percentage of the total population over time. The theoretical framework is largely descriptive and observational. This could be handled as a casual-comparative study or field research. Since I want to understand the dynamic of how motivations, attitudes, and social and interpersonal relationship networks affect innovation adoption, the research to be conducted will be qualitative, though my hypothesis is deduced from the theoretical framework. If I were conducting this research on a contemporary population, I would select a representative sample that I could track over time—through the entire innovation-decision process. But depending upon the innovation being studied, it may be difficult to estimate in advance how much time would be required to see the process through. (My study effectively tracks adoption rates over the course of better than four hundred years!) There is no need to set-up an experiment or establish a control group. The innovation is the independent variable. A number of dependent variables, in addition to time (rate of adoption), can be identified (e.g., “beliefs, education, social status, and the like”) that would be hypothesized to influence adoption rates. It may be possible to operationalize these. (In my study, I will need to infer and generalize regarding variables like these, and will have to be content with conceptual definitions.) I would not want to intrude upon the innovation-decision process, so selection of the representational sample and application of appropriate instruments—questionnaires and interviews—may need to await post-processing. (I have not studied the application of the theoretical framework enough to glean how diffusion is researched as it happens.) Availability of other in-process data would depend upon the nature of the innovation being studied. But these could include media promotions, purchase records, meeting minutes, press releases and press conference transcriptions, letters and other correspondences, news reports and editorials, sermons and speeches, etc.

I am assuming at the start of the diffusion study that the roll was viewed as the “proper” literary book form. The innovation under study is the codex employed for literary (and not just practical) use. The populations I am studying—the communally-literate Christian community and the generalized literate (Greek and Latin) population of the Roman Empire in the late 1st through 5th centuries CE—are not directly accessible to me. What I do have, however, is access to manuscript evidence and contemporary writings that can be surveyed for attitudes relating to book form and use. I also have a context of remarkable historical breadth. The manuscripts comprise my sample. An obvious and severe limitation I face is that the current manuscript evidence (numbers) is relatively sparse, condition of the manuscripts may compromise their usefulness, and there is no way to know to what degree these are representative of the actual situation at the time. Still, the data currently available does suggest a sustained trend over time, which should enhance confidence as long as conclusions are kept tentative.

The manuscript evidence has been subjected to paleographic analysis that seeks to place a date (not an exact science!), origin, and identification of form, text and subject matter. Based on text and subject matter, the manuscripts would be sorted to their respective population. (Though Jewish and Christian communities share some of the same texts [in the Greek language], there are observational techniques available for sorting these.) Since my diffusion study is interested in adoption of form over time, the available manuscripts would then be dated and arranged chronologically (interval data) 1st through 5th centuries CE. The manuscripts in each population and century rank would then be counted (nominal data) for totals in each century. Finally, percentages of rolls and codices to the total number in each century within each population would be determined. The results are plotted and the (expected) S-curve of adoption rate for the codex within each population can be demonstrated and their slopes compared. The steeper the slope, the quicker the adoption rate.

Of course, results (which other researchers have previously reported) do not answer the questions of how and why. Interpretation of data is provided a new lens with a sociological approach like the diffusion of innovations theoretical framework. Available contemporary literature over the course of the time period under investigation would be surveyed with special attention to the hints provided by all those involved in the innovation-decision process, not only for the Christian community, but for the general Greco-Roman society as well.

Generalization of Research
Is an historical study generalizable? As I suggested in the introduction, studying the process by which one long-recognized book form gave way to a new technology may provide insight into how the next significant technological form may gain the necessary adoptive “critical mass” to provoke an eventual shift. Convention dictated form in the general society of the Greco-Roman world, and so resistance to adopting a new technology was strong. Change took much longer. The rapidity of adoption in the Christian community was related, in an intensely significant way, to the wedding of function and form. But that intense combination does not appear to be at play in our general society at present. Innovators of new digital book forms may be doing better than Martial, but I suspect there is still a long way to go.

Reference List
Aland, K. & Aland B. (1987). The text of the New Testament (E. F. Rhodes, Trans.). Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans. (Original work published 1981)

Casson, L. (2001). Libraries in the ancient world. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Gamble, H. Y. (1992). Codex. In Anchor Bible Dictionary (Vol. 1, pp. 1067-1069). New York: Doubleday.

Gamble, H. Y. (1995). Books and readers in the early church: A history of early Christian texts. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Kenyon, F. G. (1932). Books and readers in ancient Greece and Rome. Oxford, England: Clarendon Press.

Meeks, W. A. (1983). The first urban Christians: The social world of the Apostle Paul. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Roberts, C. H. & Skeat, T. C. (1983). The birth of the codex. London, England: The British Academy/Oxford University Press.

Rogers, E. M. (1995). Diffusion of innovations (4th edition). New York: Free Press.

Turner, E. G. (1977). The typology of the early codex. University of Pennsylvania Press.

I was doing a little house cleaning in my email folders the other day, and I came across the following “open letter” I sent to the faculty back on April 27, 2005. I was still Reference Librarian at the time, and just two months into the job. I believe this was my first formal communication with faculty regarding information literacy and the changing nature of libraries and information resources. I hit upon the idea of the classroom and the library as separate “domains” that risked an ever widening “distance” for students. I used this metaphor as the basis of an appeal for greater intentional collaboration with faculty in order to bridge the gap. (The mug shot was original.) 

As an extension of my role as Reference Librarian, I want to make myself available to you as a resource—and potentially more than a resource—for bibliographic instruction and information literacy in your courses. Allow me to share some of my thinking and interests in this area.

It is conventional (for my generation, and for many generations prior) to think of the library as a place where information resources are stored. Users go to the library to access these resources on an as-needed basis. For students, the need is typically oriented toward completing class assignments. Bibliographic instruction in this vein seeks to inform students

1) about the relevant (subject and course-related) resources that are available in the library

2) how to go about accessing relevant resources in the library, and

3) how to productively use these accessed resources in support of the learning process. 

This is an important exercise. However, viewing the library as a place—an information “warehouse”—may contribute to more than just the sense of physical distance required to traverse there from the classroom. A potentially problematic metaphorical distance may also be building up. The greater this perceived distance, the harder it is for students to see the intimate relationship between classroom and library in the learning process.

The sheer volume, availability, and mobility of knowledge and information resources in non-print and electronic formats is certainly one aspect contributing to the increased sense of distance. Imagine all this information, just a few keystrokes away, and all conveniently accessed from the comfort of home or dorm room! Some lament this as the death of the book and the demise of the library as we (my generation, and for many generations prior) have always known it. I am less pessimistic (though I recognize that changes are inevitable). Besides, having access to an ocean of unmediated information is not necessarily helpful. (In fact, it can be exceedingly frustrating!) Access to information never directly translates into the acquisition of knowledge. But the new(er) reality does suggest to me that a broadening understanding of what the library is and how the library functions in the learning process is needed. In many ways, it must be admitted that the sense of distance was there even before the introduction of electronic information resources. Students, to varying degrees, have always complained about having to make the trip from classroom to the library for information needed to complete their assignments. It’s just that we can see the distance more clearly with this increasing (if still largely imagined) student expectation that technology will at last make the trip entirely unnecessary.

Physical distance exists as a result of practical considerations of space. (We need a place where we can store and organize books on shelves so we can retrieve them later as needed.) But metaphorical distance doesn’t take up space. The “ah-ha” for me considering this technological capacity to electronically disassemble information content from information format is not that I should lament the death of the book (which I do not believe) but that I should be provoked to focus even more attention on the nature of information itself. Yes, new information formats require the learning of new skills (e.g., database searching, electronic document delivery, etc.). This is an important part of bibliographic instruction today. But bibliographic instruction in the vein of my present thought broadens beyond a discussion of the format of information resources or where they can be found, to include a discussion about how to think about and use the information contained in whatever format, wherever it is found. This is where bibliographic instruction extends toward information literacy.

I have an interest in narrowing the sense of distance for students, not by lamenting a lost past or resisting an uncertain future for the library, but by proposing a stronger on-going relationship between myself as librarian and you as a faculty member. I fully appreciate and respect that the classroom is your domain, and you have the responsibility to guard it well for the tasks of teaching and learning. But I also believe the library needs to be conceptualized (by both librarians and faculty) as more than just a domain of support to the classroom in the learning process. After all, it is the separation of domains that creates the sense of distance. I believe the distance can be narrowed by inviting the library into the classroom. Information literacy aims for the library to be more integrated with the classroom in the learning process. It proposes a more active role for librarians to respond to partnering opportunities with faculty so that students will more readily sense the intimate relationship, and come to place a higher value on the gift of knowledge as a result. I welcome and look forward to the opportunity to talk with you further about bibliographic instruction and information literacy prospects in your classroom as you begin to plan your courses for Fall Semester 2005.

“Medieval Helpdesk” sketch from the Øystein og jeg show on Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation (NRK), 2001.

Here is the medieval equivalent of the IT guy making a house call (in true Geek Squad fashion) to help walk a frustrated user through a new piece of technology. The situation is familiar to most people (especially those of us over a certain age), though the time-shift takes us off guard. That’s what makes the sketch so hilarious. Familiarity in an unfamiliar context. As a non-Norwegian-speaking person, I find this “familiarity in the midst of unfamiliarity” dynamic enhanced even further.

I imagine that many people watching this video will, in fact, identify with the described situation while thinking of an analogous modern situation, such as learning to use a computer, a new piece of software, or the latest consumer electronics gadget. But as a librarian, I am interested in the described situation itself. Although the historical time-frame is off slightly, the sketch allows me to imagine the cultural, intellectual, and (even) emotional processing that accompanied the technological transition in the form of the book from roll/scroll to codex.

With the benefit of this perspective, I can then extrapolate some of the processing required as we are once again approaching a credible point of transition in book form from paper to electronic (i.e., the so-called e-book). I am not interested in speculating about the imminent demise of the ink on paper book, which I do not see. Rather, and at the risk of over-analyzing a two-and-a-half minute bit of humor, I am interested in thinking about human interaction with and reactions to technology at points of significant technological transition, such as the maturing of the e-book format, which I do think is now well underway.

The “familiarity in the midst of unfamiliarity” dynamic of the sketch allows us the space to see, by analogy, that the form of the book we all take for granted was itself a technological innovation that encountered significant resistance to adoption in the presence of an existing and presumably satisfactory alternative—the book roll. Vocal detractors to the codex as an appropriate form for literary texts were well known in first and second century Roman society.

Brother Ansgar says, “When you’re used to paper rolls it takes some time to convert to turn[ing] pages of a [book].” Familiarity to the point of taking a technology for granted is a key point exposed in the sketch and shouldn’t be missed. Adoption of any technology by a society and individuals within that society becomes complete when that technology effectively disappears as a technology—it becomes ubiquitous. That is why technological developments that disturb ubiquity are frequently met with resistance. After fifteen hundred plus years it’s easy to forget that the printed book as we have it today is still a technology, an invented thing that hasn’t always been.

Notice how this ubiquity is reflected in modern language usage. Here is a definition for the word “codex” from the New Oxford American Dictionary, 2nd Edition (2005):

Notice the phrases “in book form” and “hence a book.” The definition is offered from the standpoint of “everyone knows (is familiar with) what a book is, and a codex is like a book in its form.” This definition is not untrue. But this usage reinforces identification with what is ubiquitous, and inadvertently contributes to resistance to change. How can an e-book be a real book? I imagine that a literate person in second century Rome would vigorously reject this dictionary definition. He or she would say that while a codex might be fine for keeping a grocery list, or for children to use to practice their alphabet, it is definitely not a book! “Would you read Virgil’s Aeneid on a grocery list?!” How far off is this, really, from someone today saying, “Would you read Virgil’s Aeneid off a computer screen?!”?

I have gone to persistent pains in this post to talk about the roll/scroll, codex, printed book, and e-book as book forms. I will even throw-in a text inscribed on a clay tablet as an authentic book form. Literate Akkadians or Babylonians certainly thought so as they read the Epic of Gilgamesh! I disagree, however, with the notion that a book is only about content. It does seem significant that a book needs to have a form—needs to be in some sense a discrete object that exists as a container for its associated content. But why can’t that discrete object be a digital file accessible in virtual space at the click of a mouse, or the touch of a screen?

I know there are a raft of conscious and unconscious, social and conventional, personal and emotional associations that build-up over time to authorize a book form as ‘real’ and authentic (e.g., the dictionary definition above). But these associations are learned, as the use of any technology is learned. From the safe distance of several centuries we can laugh at Brother Ansgar for his technological difficulty with something that, to us, is so obvious. But if we laugh we’re really only laughing at ourselves. If a codex can become a ‘real’ book even if at one time it was not deemed to be so, then by analogy an e-book should be able to acquire a similar authorization. It’s just a question of time.

UPDATE: While writing this post I stumbled across an article by John Siracusa on Ars Technica entitled, “The once and future e-book: on reading in the digital age.” Siracusa was involved with efforts in the 1990s to get e-books adopted into the publishing and reading mainstream. Although I disagree with his contention that the book is format agnostic, and only about content, his article is otherwise very illuminating and well-worth a read. I may interact with Siracusa’s article further in a subsequent post because he addresses some of the common technological issues that have hampered the pace of wide-spread e-book adoption (like the Medieval Helpdesk producing their user manual for the codex in codex form! “Oh. We hadn’t thought about that.”).

They say the truth is stranger than fiction. The following are actual interactions I had in the library with students and faculty related to the use of information resources. I shared these interactions, essentially without elaboration, in a series of animated PowerPoint slides at a faculty retreat at the beginning of the 2007-08 academic year.

We were just kicking-off our college’s information literacy program. I was trying to provoke awareness and buy-in from the faculty to the importance of our moving beyond “traditional” library and bibliographic instruction. I was appealing for a more collaborative relationship between the domains of classroom and library, by suggesting that librarians have a unique role to play in the teaching and learning process. If nothing else, librarians observe how students actually think about and use information resources as they try to negotiate the expectations of their professors in research and writing assignments. It was easy to raise a chuckle when exposing the foibles of the students in the situations I shared. It was a little more sobering when I put these in the context of faculty actions and attitudes that sometimes get in the way…

Student performs a catalog search for resources on a topic for a research paper. She requests three books through interlibrary loan. The books arrive. They are “on-topic” but otherwise unusable…

They were written for a juvenile audience.

Student types the following search query into Google (verbatim): “What affect did the crusades haveon the current war between Palestine and Isreal.”

He gets no results.

Students are having trouble finding a journal from which a professor has assigned readings on the course syllabus.

The title of the journal changed… 13 years ago.

Professor forbids students from using “Internet sources” in their research, but leaves the impression that an “Internet source” is any resource accessed using a web browser.

Students don’t think they are allowed to use the Library’s online journal literature databases.

Student is looking for a book to use in a research assignment. In order to direct the student to a useful resource, the librarian asks how he is developing his research topic.

“Oh, I’ve already finished writing my paper. I just need to cite a book… That’s what the assignment says.”

Student doesn’t appreciate research as a developmental and recursive process. It is viewed as a product constructed, in a single sitting, out of a grocery list of loosely assembled information resources.

“Let’s see. I need 3 books, 3 journal articles, and 1 reliable website on this topic…so I can write my paper tonight.”

Student seeks assistance from a librarian about a research paper assignment. While discussing ideas for how she might develop the topic, the student repeatedly expresses concern about her grade.

Rather than pursuing a direction of interest, the student wants to steer the paper in a direction she thinks her professor will approve.

Professor asks librarian: “Is it valid to cite directly from full-text journal articles accessed in a database, or do I need to secure the ‘real’ (i.e., print) article first?”

Both students and faculty are uncertain how to properly cite documents accessed in electronic format. Students are also confused by multiple discipline-based citation conventions (MLA, APA, Chicago, etc.).

Student is caught plagiarizing on a Library Orientation assignment.

When asked to explain his actions, the student replies, “I would have never plagiarized on an important assignment.”

I am a latecomer to Laura Cohen’s blog, Library 2.0: An academic’s perspective. Curious that I should discover it almost exactly one year after it ceased publication! Laura Cohen was Web Support Librarian at University at Albany (SUNY). On February 5, 2008, she wrote her final post announcing her retirement. In that post she also wrote: “My dean has promised that this blog will remain available for at least the next year. Some of my entries are still being discovered by new readers…”

Indeed! And seeing that the year may be about up, I am scampering to glean interesting bits from the year and a half run of Laura’s blog. Of special note, and of enduring value in the rapidly evolving library environment and librarian profession, is “A Librarian’s 2.0 Manifesto,” which she posted on November 8, 2006. I am re-posting it here in its entirely: 

I will recognize that the universe of information culture is changing fast and that libraries need to respond positively to these changes to provide resources and services that users need and want.

I will educate myself about the information culture of my users and look for ways to incorporate what I learn into library services.

I will not be defensive about my library, but will look clearly at its situation and make an honest assessment about what can be accomplished.

I will become an active participant in moving my library forward.

I will recognize that libraries change slowly, and will work with my colleagues to expedite our responsiveness to change.

I will be courageous about proposing new services and new ways of providing services, even though some of my colleagues will be resistant.

I will enjoy the excitement and fun of positive change and will convey this to colleagues and users.

I will let go of previous practices if there is a better way to do things now, even if these practices once seemed so great.

I will take an experimental approach to change and be willing to make mistakes.

I will not wait until something is perfect before I release it, and I’ll modify it based on user feedback.

I will not fear Google or related services, but rather will take advantage of these services to benefit users while also providing excellent library services that users need.

I will avoid requiring users to see things in librarians’ terms but rather will shape services to reflect users’ preferences and expectations.

I will be willing to go where users are, both online and in physical spaces, to practice my profession.

I will create open Web sites that allow users to join with librarians to contribute content in order to enhance their learning experience and provide assistance to their peers.

I will lobby for an open catalog that provides personalized, interactive features that users expect in online information environments.

I will encourage my library’s administration to blog.

I will validate, through my actions, librarians’ vital and relevant professional role in any type of information culture that evolves.

Incidentally, I found this nice video slideshow mashup on YouTube of Laura Cohen’s “A Librarian’s 2.0 Manifesto” by Soren Johannessen, of Copenhagen, Denmark:

Last week I wrote about WorldCat Mobile. This week, thanks to a post on Andy Ihnatko’s blog, I learned that Google Book Search has gone mobile, too! Point your device’s web browser to http://books.google.com/m, and check it out.

The Book Search home page displays a search box, a “My books,” “Featured books,” and a nicely organized “Browse categories” section. The mobile edition defaults to browse or search the current collection of 1.5 million titles in the public-domain. Copyrighted titles in Google’s hoard can be searched for brief bibliographic information, but unlike the full version of Book Search, no text preview or snippets are available.

Here I selected “Philosophy” from the Browse, and then Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra to give you a view of the reading page. Each reading page actually displays ten pages of the book’s text, which feels a bit long to me, since you can only navigate to the next or previous set of pages by scrolling all the way to the top or bottom of each reading page. There is currently no way to bookmark your text, which can make returning to the place where you left off a bit of a pain. A Table of Contents button, however, helps a bit to zero-in, as does a “Jump to page” box at the bottom of the Contents page. Illustrations are included in the machine read text, and tapping on any paragraph toggles a display of the original book text image for that paragraph. That’s kind of neat.

One major limitation of Google Book Search Mobile compared to other application-based ebook readers on the iPhone/iPod touch, such as eReader or Stanza, is the inability to download books to your device for offline reading. With recent developments in providing offline functionality to Gmail and Google Docs, however, this feature may be coming.

I highlighted the phrase “1.5 million titles” above. But I think it was still too easy for me to type. I’m not sure I can fully grasp the enormity of this level of access, with this much ease, from a mobile device! What does all this mean? I’m not sure. Will Google eventually replace libraries in the content delivery business? Maybe. (I do think libraries and librarians need to be seriously rethinking roles and core competencies right about now.)

Google has long presented itself as a company committed to making profit without resorting to evil (see especially point 6 in Google’s corporate philosophy). Many are still suspicious. Maybe rightfully so. But it’s hard to complain when what Google is providing here is not just cool, it is also very useful. I love the way Andy Ihnatko maneuvers that edge when he writes:

Good golly. If Google is evil, then they’re a Doctor Doom sort of evil. What’s a little evil, when the totalitarian dictator takes such wonderful, indulgent care of his subjects?

Huge, hulking, armed Googlebots may suddenly appear on every street corner one morning but I’ll be inclined to think “Well, yes, that’s annoying, I won’t lie. But I do get to keep Google Books for Mobile, right?”

Okay Google, I’m going to say Mobile Book Search is great! Now, how about a mobile version of Google Scholar?

WorldCat is the world’s largest cooperative online library catalog, produced and maintained by the Online Computer Library Center (OCLC) and over 69,000 member libraries worldwide. Cooperation in building WorldCat as a network for bibliographic information sharing has been leveraged to facilitate actual information resource sharing. WorldCat combined with interlibrary loan powerfully extends the reach of individual libraries—a worldwide reach—to access materials on behalf of their users. Other than the time it takes to process and ship item requests, even a relatively small liberal arts college library—such as the one where I work—is not significantly disadvantaged in research potential when using WorldCat. WorldCat is one of our most valuable resource discovery tools.

In 2006, OCLC began making a portion of the vast WorldCat database available as a free open-Web service called WorldCat.org. The thinking behind WorldCat.org is related to the question: Will the library—the historically central community institution (and physical space) for providing access to information and knowledge resources—get lost in our increasingly digital world? The library has always been committed to providing access to quality information and knowledge resources for its users. However, the library is no longer assumed to be the first or only information access point for users. As the information seeking and information participation behaviors of users continue to change under the influence of ubiquitous commercial and social networking Web services such as Google, Amazon.com, and Facebook, how does the library, even if it has a virtual presence on the Web, keep from getting drowned out or bypassed?

WorldCat.org addresses this issue by leveraging the bibliographic database in the Web environment on behalf of its member libraries (over 10,000 to date). Rather than starting with the library location to search for a needed item, the user starts with the needed item. WorldCat.org then directs the user to a near-by library where that item is available. This discovery approach fits into the Web user’s regular workflow (using tools such as Google, Google Books, or Facebook) and raises the profile of the library as a result.

The reach of WorldCat.org is further extended through an affiliate program which allows anyone to embed a WorldCat search box into their personal or organization website or blog. Urrr! I have tried repeatedly to add one to the sidebar of my blog page, but for some reason the code isn’t playing nice on WordPress. Anyway, this is what the search box looks like (image only). If anyone out there has found a fix to this WordPress problem please let me know.

WorldCat.org has recently gone one logical step better in attempting to capture the attention of online consumers of information on behalf of member libraries. WorldCat has partnered with mobile search provider Boopsie to bring WorldCat to your Web-enabled mobile device. Check-out this link to play with WorldCat Mobile through an on-screen emulator. Here are some screenshots from my iPod touch:

From the home screen of WorldCat Mobile, I begin by setting my location by ZIP Code.

When I start to search for an item, I can limit right away by format. By just typing “b” I have selected Books as my format. Next I start typing title or author. I want to find the book Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. WorldCat Mobile starts searching for possible matches even before I finish typing the entire title!

WorldCat returns many hits for this title (150). I find an edition of the text I want near the top of the list and select it. This brings up an abbreviated record.

Next, I scroll down the record to view a list of libraries that have this book (4,322). Milligan College Library has it! And since it is the nearest library to me based upon the location I entered at the start, it is at the top of the list. I can click a link to map the library location using Google Maps, and get directions to the library if necessary.

Another very handy link on the record is “Cite this item,” which displays the citation for the title from several popular style guides.

WorldCat is also experimenting with a mobile version formatted for use on the iPhone/iPod touch (although you can access the URL from any web browser). The functionality of this version is largely the same, except that it can also connect directly with the selected library’s online catalog to tell you the availability status for the item you are searching. It can also dial-up the library for you (if you have an iPhone) for more information.

The subscription-based WorldCat is a powerful research tool, and we will continue to make it available to our students and faculty. The opening-up of a significant chunk of WorldCat for anyone to freely search from any computer was a great move. Now the ability for anyone to search WorldCat while on the move seems especially fitting in the growing mobile environment—and very cool!