In Solidarity: Academic Librarian Labour Activism and Union Participation in Canada (2014)

In Solidarity: Academic Librarian Labour Activism and Union Participation in Canada ed. by Jennifer Dekker and Mary Kandiuk. Sacramento, California: Library Juice Press, 2014; viii, 355 p., illus.

Collective action by faculty and librarians and their diverse organizations and associations has traditionally dealt mostly with academic standards and professional goals. With respect to economic issues, professors and librarians historically have engaged in individualistic pursuits. Until the 1970s, focused work to improve economic conditions was not considered appropriate activity for university or college faculty and librarians. The spectre of “trade unionism” loomed large at many campus meetings aimed at discussing collective action and improving salaries and working conditions. A further complication during this formative period—librarians’ predilection for creating associations no matter how small in membership—also impeded coordinated action towards certified and non-certified bargaining units (aka, special plans). However, after Canadian federal civil service workers attained collective bargaining rights and the ability to strike in 1967, the concept of public sector unions gained increased acceptance and faculty associations began to choose a familiar path of collective action.

It is within this background that In Solidarity delves into various challenging issues that academic librarians have engaged with over the years. The fifteen articles in this book are divided into four parts: (1) the historical development of labour organization of academic librarians; (2) case histories from various institutions; (3) current issues in labour activism and unionization; and (4) the practical complications and challenges that labour issues present in libraries. This general-specific pattern of articles in alternate sections is useful because context is provided, and the nitty-gritty of labour activism in the library profession (known chiefly for its conservative elements) on Canadian campuses is addressed for a various subjects and alternative analysis.

Chapter outline of In Solidarity

The two editors, Jennifer Dekker (University of Ottawa) and Mary Kandiuk (York University), provide a short introduction to the text and introduce the broader aspects of the volume, especially the common experiences of librarians relating to unionization. Labour activism can subdivide into many particular topics: salaries, benefits, pensions, general working conditions, workplace security (aka, deprofessionalization), librarian workload, promotions, tenure, job classification, academic status, grievances, and even can be termed professional matters, like defining ranks, seniority, collegial governance, and general terminology (e.g., the transition over time from “professional librarian” to “academic librarian”).

The first section offers two papers:  Leona Jacobs traces the history of academic status and labour organizing for Canadian academic librarians. and Jennifer Dekker’s exploration of the crucial part the Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) played in academic librarians’ escape from the campus isolation of a “library ghetto.” CAUT’s acceptance of librarians as partners in faculty associations in the 1970s was a fundamental step forward because the vast majority of university libraries only provided a few dozen positions for librarians and little (or no) bargaining power on campus. In contrast, other predominantly female campus professionals, such as nurses, could rely on provincial or national organizations for assistance. These accounts of librarians’ struggles for recognition demonstrate the fragile and fractured nature of collective action across Canada during the past half-century and provide valuable background for three other chapters.

The second part of the book features three case histories. These accounts highlight the earlier papers and explore issues at different institutions in more detail.  Martha Attridge Bufton outlines gender and status issues at Carleton University from 1948-75, a brief presentation based on her more detailed thesis. Harriet M. Sonne de Torrens discusses the quest for academic rights and recognition at the University of Toronto, a story of determination on the part of rank-and-file librarians after a mid-1970s mini-revolution. Two college librarians, Robin Inskip and David Jones, outline a successful effort to organize and achieve parity within the ranks of Ontario post-secondary college teachers and faculty. These articles offer insight into conflicts between administrators, faculty, and librarians that occurred during attempts to organize and provide a coherent voice for librarians at their home institutions. Not every campaign was successful because the recognition of librarians was often disputed.

The third section featuring collaborative articles by librarians from different parts of Canada, provides insight into contemporary issues that librarians continue to grapple with in an academic setting. Academic librarians are partners in the post-secondary sector, and this raises a variety of topics discussed by the contributors. The role of librarians as teachers, researchers and community members is one feature. Another is librarians as faculty association participants, a condition of representing minority views and priorities within a broader, more complex context. Collective agreements are studied in another paper, along with an examination of the complaints and collegiality of determining what the “quiet librarian” would do or think.

The final section presents four case studies emphasizing the broader issues in practice today concerning librarian rights and responsibilities in various campus situations. A strike at the Western University in London highlights conflicts in a library setting. Success and failure in labour organizing (including one paper that reveals resistance to unionization in the state of Louisiana) unfolds in this section, followed by the issue of collegial self-governance with the establishment of a Library Council at Brock University (CAUT has long supported the concept of library councils but their formation has been hampered by local considerations for decades).

Readers will find there are several takeaways from reading In Solidarity. One easy conclusion is that working conditions and status for librarians vary greatly in Canadian academic institutions. The case studies illustrate that the terminology for academic status or academic freedom is often defined differently in collective agreements. Nor are the requirements for research and service consistent by any means. Faculty views on the academic status of librarianship are also inconsistent. Further, although librarians are usually members of faculty associations, their level of participation and success is necessarily limited by their small numbers: The chapter on “The Mouse that Roared” is a descriptive epithet that does not apply in all cases.  The articles present arguments favouring strengthening academic status and participation in faculty associations.

While there is a complicated legacy and contemporary challenges inherent in contractual issues involving librarian workloads and academic participation, the general trend presented in these pages is a positive one, even though Jennifer Dekker worries at the outset that “the gains librarians made in the 1970s and 1980s are being dialed back today.” Of course, a review of the history of librarian labour activity shows that opposition to collective bargaining and academic advancement has existed for many years. The recent (i.e., after 2000) attacks on the rights of academic librarians (including unjustified terminations) at Canadian universities and colleges follow this entrenched “tradition,” but are no less painful in particular situations.

The literature on librarian unionization and collective bargaining in any Canadian setting—schools, government, post-secondary or public libraries—is sparse, so In Solidarity is a welcome addition. This collection is a worthwhile effort to document librarian union participation and activism, telling the story in many cases from a first-hand perspective, and offering helpful examples of successful action.

William Austin Mahoney: A Prolific Canadian Carnegie Library Architect

At the beginning of the twentieth century, Andrew Carnegie began dispensing grants to Ontario libraries. Many ambitious cities and towns submitted a request for assistance. One important requisite that Carnegie demanded was that the library be “free” that is, open at the point of entry free of charge—there would no longer be a subscription for membership. This condition would make it eligible for a specific amount from its municipality according to Ontario’s public library legislation. More than a hundred communities followed through and received grants.

One architect from Guelph, Ontario, William A. Mahoney (born 16 Sept. 1872 and died 13 Oct. 1952) designed fifteen buildings across the province. This short history looks at Mahoney’s buildings and their subsequent development until the period of the Second World War, especially in connection with Angus Mowat, who inspected most of Mahoney’s buildings and reported on their status about a quarter-century after they originally opened. There were examples of progressive and struggling libraries in Mahoney’s grouping prior to 1945.

William Mahoney’s contribution to the Carnegie architectural history of Canadian libraries was large in number but small in terms of interior design and exterior features. His preference for simple, square, classical buildings with raised first floors requiring staired entrances, and open floor plans suited the building period and size of grants that the Carnegie corporation favoured for smaller towns across Canada, especially in Ontario. For his exteriors he followed the neoclassical style associated with the École des Beaux Arts in Paris which was in vogue across North America when he opened his office in Guelph. There were two basic exterior types of neoclassical style: a columned temple entrance with a triangular pedimented roof or a columned arch entrance divided into one or more bays which supported the roof line. In the interiors there were high ceilings, wooden shelving and chairs, oak floors, stained glass in a few windows, busts of famous literary figures, and fireplaces along with radiators to provide heating. Separate reading rooms for women and men were not uncommon. Spacing and reading for children for limited.

For the most part, Mahoney’s ideas were in accord with changing principles for library buildings. In the leaflet published in 1910, Notes on the Erection of Library B[u]ildings, James Bertram, the secretary of the Carnegie Corporation, introduced the open library concept wishing to receive a promise of funding. The Notes were intended for buildings in small communities or city branches. Bertram stressed simplicity: rectangular, one-storey buildings, undivided rooms, low ceilings, few restrictions separating readers from books, and unpretentious exteriors. Bertram personally inspected potential designs for libraries before authorizing funding. Fortunately, Mahoney’s plans usually passed muster. Mahoney continued a successful practice, building schools and commercial buildings for many years until his retirement. Seven of his buildings continue in use as libraries in 2023.

A testament to Mahoney's design concepts came from Angus Mowat, the Ontario Inspector of Public Libraries from 1937 to 1960, about thirty years after the libraries opened. The Inspector found most of Mahoney's libraries were still generally community assets, although crowded and in need of extensions or interior reorganization. One suggestion, used in a number of Carnegie buildings in the following decades, was to house children's sections in basement rooms that had being planned for other uses. Another testament to William Mahoneys success as an architect is that many of his buildings remain in use more than a century after their construction, surely a notable achievement.

My PowerPoint presentation was originally planned for the Port Hope Public Library in 2023, but due to illness I was unable to attend and I have reproduced it here in JPEG format.

A complete listing of William Mahoney’s buildings is at the website, Biographical Dictionary of Architects in Canada 1800–1950.

 Some of my earlier blogs on Carnegie library buildings:

Brantford, 1904

Brockville, 1904

Photo Essay on Ontario's Edwardian Libraries (1989) 

More Carnegie library buildings in Ontario are available at my previous website, Libraries Today, from the 1990s — The Ontario Library Photo Gallery — stored on the Wayback Machine of the Internet Archive.

My chapter on Carnegie Philanthropy (pp. 165–203) appears in Free Books for All: The Public Library Movement in Ontario, 1850–1930 (1994) which is available on the Internet Archive.

 

 

Parents of Invention (2011) by Christopher Brown-Syed

Parents of Invention: The Development of Library Automation Systems in the Late 20th Century by Christopher Brown-Syed; foreword by W. David Penniman and conclusion by Louise O’Neil. Santa Barbara, California: Libraries Unlimited, 2011; xxi, 145 p., illus. ISBN: 978-1-59158-792-7 (paperback).

In Parents of Invention, Christopher Brown-Syed recounts developments in library automation from the 1970s to the 1990s, an important era in library computing dominated by what came to be called the integrated library system (ILS). After earning a BA at York University, Brown-Syed began his career with the emerging library vendors Plessey (a British firm that introduced an early version of the barcode) and Geac Computer Corp. (founded in Toronto in 1971). He knew firsthand about the revolution of circulation and catalogue functions that took place in libraries during this transformational period. Later, he turned to an academic career teaching at library graduate schools in the United States, at Wayne State and Buffalo, and earned his PhD in Library and Information Sciences at the University of Toronto in 1996. His dissertation, “From CLANN to UNILINC: An Automated Library Consortium from a Soft Systems Perspective,” reviewed the development of networking in Australia. Unfortunately, Brown-Syed died unexpectedly in March 2012 while he was teaching at Seneca College in Toronto.

Brown-Syed organized his historical account around interviews of librarians, computer programmers, and salespersons. He provides a Canadian perspective even though many of the fifteen contributors he interviewed are from the UK and Australia. There is a brief forward by David Penniman and a concluding chapter by Louise O'Neill (McGill University), who discusses important developments in library automation and the digital library, such as open-source software, open access, discovery tools, and Web 2.0. We learn how the “parents of invention”—librarians and vendors working collaboratively—implemented new technologies to improve library operations in technical services, and ultimately in public reference contexts. Parents of Invention unfolds in eight chapters as the author discusses the challenges facing early ILS vendors during the period of mini-computer dominance. Vendors and tech-minded librarians collaborated closely in a competitive marketplace and automated environment that changed libraries forever.

Chapter outline of Parents of Invention

(1) Origin of Magic. The ILS first appeared in the mainframe era of computers: with the development of MARC (machine-readable cataloguing) standards it seemed possible to mechanize many aspects of a library. It was a magic of sorts that needed to be unravelled for computers to create records and share them between libraries. As mini-computers came into vogue, the Canadian firm, Geac, became a leader in this pioneer development. Networking became a logical library activity, and new acronyms, now well known, appeared: OCLC (Ohio College Library Center), WLN (Western Library Network), RLIN (Research Libraries Information Network), etc. Eventually, the mini-computer triumphed, and a new era of commercialization and innovation took hold.
(2) Customers' Perspectives. Brown-Syed outlines customers views on ILS based on many interviews with clients in Australia. He provides background comments on library automation and networking using CLANN (later UNILINK) as an example. CLANN allowed libraries access to mainframe computing, thus introducing automation locally. While computerized searching of external mainframes continued, the introduction of cd-rom technology permitted libraries to begin mounting databases locally on workstations (e.g., ERIC) and end their reliance on expensive online searches through dial-up access to DIALOG or BRS.
(3) At the Interface: Librarians and Vendor Environment. Librarians working for automation firms were an essential aspect throughout this period. Some had considerable library experience and would eventually take positions with Geac and Plessey. Previous success and an ability to travel and connect with people were essential ingredients. Managerial ability was another quality: some librarians became project managers for short periods, a challenging task but a satisfying experience.
(4) The Nature of the Vendor's Work. The author summarizes many interviews with the observation, “It is doubtful that they (the ILS vendors) could have operated successfully had employees not been willing to work long hours, to set and keep their own schedules, and to travel so widely when required to do so.” (p. 55) Workers, mostly tech-savvy computer professionals, were willing to go the extra mile to get the job done.
(5) On Company Time. The nature of work, collegial attachments, the ever-changing work environment, and personal satisfaction is outlined through many comments and Brown-Syed’s own experience. Employees learned to be flexible and accommodate schedules and travel.
(6) Transformations. Geac reached its peak in the 1980s. The Geac System 9000, the successor to the more limited Geac 8000 with fewer dedicated terminals, was introduced in the late 1980s for large libraries. “Turnkey” systems had truly arrived. The chapter gives insight into many details, such as batch processing, computer coding, bibliographic data, computer peripherals, circulation transactions, requests for upgrades, and so on. But the companies that included hardware and software expanded ILS capabilities beyond circulation to include acquisitions, serials control, cataloguing, etc.
(7) Consolidation and Lasting Achievements. The business of automation ultimately led to the rise and fall of innovative firms, such as Plessey, CLSI, and Geac. The introduction of microcomputers changed the business model for companies that relied to a great extent on hardware sales. Open-source development and the advent of Linux, Java, and Python also reduced customers’ costs. These improvements spelled the transition to a new era in ILS development. By the late 1990s, ILSs were including library users through OPACs (Online Public Access Catalogues) and web-based portals on the Internet. Despite the changing landscape for ILS firms and their employees, ILS sales continued to proliferate as library automation spread to every type of library, small or large.
(8) The Future of Library Technology. Louise O’Neil provides a concluding chapter about significant developments in library automation and the digital library, such as the Internet, open-source software, open access, and Web 2.0.

“The development of the ILS was a remarkable collaborative effort, in which designers and librarians as customers played often interchangeable roles. That process continues, but with new challenges and opportunities taking the fore.” (p. 127). In the 21st century, the Internet allows many small client machines and larger servers to distribute workloads. Users have home access to online catalogues or library databases to view their loans or find records on their topics of choice. The computing environment has completely changed. The personable interactions of librarians and corporate employees we encounter in Parents of Invention are an experience of the past.

Brown-Syed concludes by observing that the super mini-computer was perhaps a ‘sunset phenomenon,’ the like of which we will not see again, although we can learn from the history of its development and the dedicated efforts of ILS library and vendor pioneers.

INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM STATEMENT: THE INSTITUTE OF PROFESSIONAL LIBRARIANS OF ONTARIO, APRIL 1972

In the 1950s and early 1960s, Ontario librarians began to believe they should have a separate provincial body to speak for ‘professional librarians’ on issues related to unions, library boards, and governments. In 1958, the Institute of Professional Librarians became a section within the Ontario Library Association. Two years later, in 1960, the IPL sought incorporation and became an independent organization. This separation was followed by private legislation in 1963, An Act Respecting the Institute of Professional Librarians of Ontario. Through the 1960s, IPLO served as a clearing house for professional information, helped its members (about 300 by 1970) with employment conditions, offered workshops, and published a newsletter and then a journal to keep members informed of its activities on current issues

Membership in IPLO required librarians to have a bachelor’s degree from a recognized university as well as a postgraduate degree from a library school (usually a BLS) accredited by the Canadian and American Library Association or training which the Institute's Registration Committee considered equivalent to a postgraduate library science degree. Older librarians who did not possess these qualifications before 1960 also gained admission. However, IPLO began to face difficult financial conditions in the early 1970s because there was a legislated maximum membership fee and declining membership. New library science graduates considered IPLO outmoded, a remnant of unsuccessful efforts to achieve independent professional standing. Librarians were becoming more vocal about working conditions, low salaries, and sex bias in management. Academic librarians were collaborating with faculty unions and public librarians were joining the Canadian Union of Public Employees. In 1976, the Institute came to an end. Greg Linnell recounts its story in detail: his article can be downloaded at one of my earlier blogs in 2009: https://libraries-today.blogspot.com/2009/04/.

IPLO was reasonably active in the field of working conditions. The Institute developed general guidelines for employment, drafted sample contracts for individuals, and set forth guidelines for grievance procedures. A code of ethics for librarians was adopted, and briefs were presented to the provincial government on various issues. One notable statement appeared in 1972: a statement on intellectual freedom. There were already two statements by the Ontario and Canadian library associations that were readily available for libraries, but the IPLO Board of Directors and general membership felt a need to address certain issues that were librarian oriented. IPLO had engaged with two newly established colleges, Conestoga and St. Lawrence, in 1970, about issues arising from intellectual freedom. In the case of Conestoga College, while an IPLO committee found insufficient evidence to support a charge of censorship of materials even though three librarians had resigned in September 1970, citing cancellation of an underground magazine, The East Village Other. The committee recommended that the college prepare a written statement on the role of the library and that the librarian prepare a statement on its book selection policies. Two years later, IPLO emphasized the need for more explicit selection standards and librarians’ responsibility to resist censorship when it issued the following policy.

STATEMENT ON INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM

Adopted by the membership at its Annual Meeting on April 22, 1972

The Institute of Professional Librarians of Ontario affirms that library service is based upon the fundamental right of citizens to freedom of speech and the underlying tenet of a democracy that a citizen has the right to choose courses of action, public or private. In order that a democracy />function, the citizenry must have free and unhindered access to information and ideas as presented in a variety of media.

The I.P.L.O. therefore asserts:

1. that a professional librarian will take steps to establish a meaningful materials selection policy for the institution or constituency he serves, and that within the limit of the library’s particular function the librarian will select materials in a manner to avoid the undue influence of opinions of the selectors, to represent a variety of opinions or approaches and to assert that materials will not be rejected because of the race, nationality or political, religious or unpopular views of the creator or because the materials may be considered as depicting the ugly, shocking or unedifying in life.

2. that the censorship of materials is not a valid activity for a librarian, library management or library board.

3. that attempts to curtail access to library materials, or to withdraw books or other materials from library circulation by individuals or groups must be resisted, and that librarians under such pressure should seek the support of fellow professionals, through their professional organization.

4. that the professional librarian will seek to encourage the climate of intellectual freedom and freedom of access to library materials and that he will adhere to the I.P.L.O’s Code of Ethics and to procedures as outlined in the I.P.L.O. guidelines for handling grievances where these concern censorship and intellectual freedom.

5. that no member of the I.P.L.O. shall knowingly apply for or accept a position in an institution which has consistently yielded to pressure to censor, withdraw, or restrict access to materials for citizens’ use or which subscribes to such policies in either a formal or informal manner.

The statement was directed to IPLO’s members in public, academic, school, and special libraries and it differed in some respects from other associations, e.g., there was no reference to the use of library facilities. The statement referred to IPLO’s policies in one instance (clause 4) and in another (clause 2) included library trustees (virtually all who were ineligible to join IPLO). It called for the formal creation of collection policies to guide book selectors and inform administrators and the public about collection development in its broader context.

IPLO was not reluctant to rely on its newly adopted statement. In December 1972, it issued a press release criticizing letters issued by the municipal council of Pembroke to other Ontario municipalities for stricter enforcement of censorship. Of course, it cited its new policy; however, the statement was only in effect for four years until the Institute’s demise in 1976 and did not influence librarianship in Ontario in the way IPLO intended, e.g., ethical guidance. However, the idea of policies for collection development, while not original, would become standard practice in subsequent decades.

Confronting the Democratic Discourse of Librarianship: A Marxist Approach (2019) by Sam Popowich

Confronting the Democratic Discourse of Librarianship: A Marxist Approach by Sam Popowich. Sacramento, CA: Library Juice Press, 2019. 322 p.

“So long as we are a democracy we need intelligence; so long as we need intelligence in the community we need librarians; so we shall need librarians to the end of Time.” — George H. Locke speaking to university students in Toronto, October 1932.

George Locke’s assessment neatly encapsulated the thoughts of the “library community” in Canada, the United States, and Britain in the first part of the 20th century. Today, many people continue to support the belief that public libraries provide beneficial free and equal access to resources for everyone in the community that the library serves. Library historians have also followed this line of reasoning, using the themes of  “temples of democracy,” “cornerstones of liberty,” or “arsenals of democracy.” But is it so simple? Readers of two classic Marxist histories, such as Georges Lefebvre’s The Coming of the French Revolution (1939), which dissected the ancien régime by emphasizing the leading role of the bourgeoisie, or E.P. Thompson’s The Making of the English Working Class (1963), which charted the efforts of working people to forge their own identity, might beg to differ. Yet, Marxist views about public libraries are seldom referenced because Anglo-American library histories are rarely written from the Marxist perspective. They are published from “the left” and present revisionist, radical views, but fall short of revolutionary analysis. Now we have a book written in the Western Marxist vein to reject the validity of the normative democratic discourse of librarians and challenge ideas that have pervaded Anglo-American-Canadian library statements and practice for so long.

In Confronting the Democratic Discourse of Librarianship, Sam Popowich rejects the liberal-democratic tradition within librarianship which usually supports the concepts of library neutrality on societal issues, political pragmatism, and relative independence from economic forces or political influence. A general ideological outlook—a historical myth perhaps—constrains libraries and librarianship: the “library faith,” a long-standing belief that public libraries can provide materials (especially books) that could transform public attitudes, raise the cultural level, and develop citizenship, thus bettering  democracy.  For the author, the reliance on these ideas, especially by mainstream library historians, must be dismantled to change the profession, libraries, and our society. “From a political perspective this allows us also to ignore the very real problems inherent in our social and political world: racism, sexism, intolerance, alienation, hatred, violence, and political manipulation” (p. 3). Popowich believes the traditional liberal-democratic order of governments masks the oppressive structures of society and sustains the capitalist order of exploitation. Thus, by extension, librarians and libraries play a complicit role in the social reproduction of capitalism and its ideology. But all is not lost: the author concludes with potential strategies for resistance to the standard democratic discourse and capitalist hegemony that might contribute to a better society, a liberating vision shared in Marxist themes.

Chapter Outline of the Democratic Discourse

The corrective, mould-breaking lens of Marxism presented in the Democratic Discourse unfolds over nine chapters:
(1) The Democratic Discourse of Librarianship; (2) Vectors of Oppression; (3) Liberalism and the Enlightenment; (4) Ideology and Hegemony in the Marxist Tradition; (5) Three Hegemonies of Library History; (6) The Library Myth; (7) Truth Machines; (8) Dual Power and Mathesis; (9) Conclusion: Lives and Time.

The first chapter explores whether we actually live in a democracy. It revisits the meaning of democracy and librarians’ tunnel vision on issues such as liberty, free speech, and intellectual freedom, issues often taken for granted. “True democracy cannot be partial, cannot be exclusionary, and I will argue that this is precisely what ‘liberal democracy’ has always been. The democratic discourse of librarianship, the idea that libraries are sacred to some actually-existing democratic reality, prevents us from working towards the achievement of this radical, total democracy.” (p. 49) In the second chapter, the concept of vectors of oppression, for example, sex, race, or gender identity, is introduced to show libraries have inherited oppressive ideas and practices inherent in capitalist structures which perpetuate an in-egalitarian society.

In the following two chapters, a critique of the Enlightenment search for universal truths, Capitalism’s relentless drive for profits, and Liberalism’s political and social successes/failures as opposed to a roseate outline of Marxist thought put the reader in the right place for reassessing the role of libraries. Popowich leads the reader through the contributions of 20th-century theorists to Western Marxist theory: Georg Lukács’ reification, Antonio Gramsci’s hegemony, Louis Althusser’s ideological state apparatuses and capitalist reproduction, and Frederic Jameson’s postmodern political unconsciousness (living in a ‘perpetual present’) and the idea of cultural logic. These thinkers have made significant additions to critical Marxist theory. Jameson provides a way forward because “we have to look at the political unconscious of library work, especially as it relates to the particular ‘cultural logics’ of the different periods of library history” (p.169).

This background leads us to the three (perhaps four) hegemonies of library history, a cookie-cutter view of the periodization of library history on the Anglo-American scene from the mid-1800s to the present based on the Marxist historical view.

1848–1914: Classical liberalism, industrial technology, factory work, the bourgeois library;
1914–1945: Wars and depression; the war library [a short period that could be combined with the bourgeois library]
1945–1973: Embedded liberalism, the welfare state, mass work, the mass library;
1973–2008: Neoliberalism, postmodernism, the neoliberal library,

Popowich expresses more interest in the two latter periods, where capitalism and neoliberal philosophy prevailed in Western societies. In the “industrial library” (the era 1914–73), he finds the development of ideas encouraging the education of a democratic society (ultimately a library myth) and the substitution of reliance on moral education in favour of library neutrality. The author investigates aspects of the "neoliberal library" (the post-1973 era) in two chapters: the issue of postmodern epistemology and library science, as well as library labour in the age of “truth machines.” The binary logic of computing/cybernetics is applied to social control based on the reality of the outcome, true/false. In fact, “one of the things that makes libraries so useful to capitalist society: libraries are machines for the reproduction of ideology” (p. 274). The library’s mythic presence of political and social neutrality in support of liberal democracy is linked with the mechanical process of providing information and programs that reinforce the inequalities of contemporary neoliberal society. These two chapters are mainly devoted to the structures of society with brief, depressing context for librarians and libraries: efforts in the daily working environment (the machines of reproduction) do not effect real change to systemic issues such as racism, alienation, inequality, and sexism. It is a nuanced deterministic view, a common element of Western Marxist writings. 

The Democratic Discourse also points to the present, post-2008 period in its final chapters. Marxism posits that society moves through a series of stages and ultimately arrives at real freedom and a classless utopia. By adopting a Marxist viewpoint, Popowich believes liberation is quite possible. He believes we can employ two potential strategies for resisting capitalist hegemony and repudiating the democratic discourse of librarianship. The eighth chapter, “Dual Power and Mathesis,” considers utopian strategies to revolutionize the neoliberal library and jettison its democratic discourse. One co-existing power, capitalism (a repressive regime), can be offset by another liberating force, “mathesis,” in which libraries prioritize learning over rote education, thus establishing a radical, authentic democracy. Popowich concludes that we must cast aside our fictitious innocence, which determines how we think about “lives and time” (pp. 293–299). Economic exploitation ultimately has detrimental costs in both human life and the time frame we have to resist its oppressive framework and liberal-democratic norms. The critical step must be to recognize our current state. “Constituent power can and must struggle against constituted power, can and must make hard choices, but those choices have to arise from concrete, collective experience, and a joyful taking on of responsibility. They cannot arise from a fatal innocence.” (p. 299)

The Democratic Discourse is punctuated with a host of theorists that buttress the author’s arguments. In addition to a few mentioned previously, we should note Popowich’s reliance on the work of Paolo Freire, who wrote on the development of a critical consciousness about society with the end of creating a more democratic culture; Stuart Hall’s critical work on identities and political power; David Harvey’s interest in the postmodernization (post-Fordism) of culture and politics; Jacques Rancière’s anti-institutional criticism of political theory and suggestion of radical equality; and Giovanni Arrighi’s or Ernest Mandel’s critiques and outlines of capitalist development. In the same way, Popowich invokes many Anglo-American academics who have written extensively about library history: Wayne Wiegand, Alistair Black, Michael Harris, Sidney Ditzion, Dee Garrison, and Jesse Shera, to name a few. As well, the viewpoints of authors engaged in contemporary issues are brought into focus, particularly John Buschman, Ed D’Angelo, and Stephen Bales. Although some of these writers have been revisionist or critical in their approach to library history, they have not produced counter-hegemonic histories. Ditzion and Shera wrote during the “consensus” period of historiography in the United States that emphasized continuity and the achievements of American democratic capitalism. In this setting, libraries were reputed to be a force for democracy, equal opportunity, and individual achievement even though Bernard Berelson’s research for The Library’s Public (1949) revealed that American public libraries reached only a minority of the population, the better educated that he felt public libraries should focus on. As the 1970s dawned and social historians began to study things “from the bottom up,” (a Marxist theme in many ways) revisionists issued a challenge that public libraries had not addressed American problems or were initially fostered by the educated elite (aka, the power brokers) to enforce social controls in reading for the lower or working class. In Britain, Alistair Black authored a “new history,” one that eschewed narrative and advocated thematic, critical history in concert with the development of cultural studies and Raymond William’s Marxist pursuit of the social history of ideas, especially the interaction between intellectual life and communities. These are still valuable histories today, depending on one’s viewpoint: consensus vs. revisionism, narrative vs. analysis, social vs. institution, and modern vs. postmodern.

Popowich has authored a historiographic overview of library history intertwined with the culture of postmodernism and politics of resistance to neo-liberalism. Of course, he could have called upon others to support his ideas; for example, An Essay on Liberation (1969) by Herbert Marcuse, who decried the repressiveness of society in the postwar period and proposed new possibilities for human liberation, or Ian McKay’s influential Marxist-based prospectus for Canadian history, “The Liberal Order Framework” (2000) which highlights the liberal-democratic hegemonic promotion of individualism, private property, and capitalist accumulation in nation building during the 19th and 20th century. As for democracy, there are many types that are attractive: participatory, social, liberal, representative, grassroots, radical, and so on. Popowich states that “Democracy, we might say, is in the eye of the beholder” (p. 2), yet he does not offer a specific preference for replacing the liberal-democratic status quo. His interest lies in ameliorating systemic inequities: “true democracy cannot be partial, cannot be exclusionary,” (p. 49). To explore the contested field of Canadian democracy I would suggest Constant Struggle: Histories of Canadian Democratization edited by Julien Mauduit and Jennifer Tunnicliffe, a collection of historical essays recently published in 2021 that raises questions about the concept of democracy and its application in Canada.

Capitalism, Popowich asserts, must be overthrown before an authentic, truly democratic (utopian?) society can unfold. I would argue that The Democratic Discourse stands more in path of Western or neo-Marxist social theory rather than the developing field of Critical Librarianship. Critlib is reflexive and action oriented especially regarding social justice issues, but Sam Popowich goes further by setting forth a more powerful, transformative, innovative societal challenge to ingrained complacency in librarianship. Political awareness from a Marxist perspective: that’s not such a bad thing after all!