Public Libraries and Marxism by Joe and John Pateman (2021)

 Public Libraries and Marxism by Joe Pateman and John Pateman. London and New York: Routledge, 2021. 119 p., indexed.

Public libraries offer an amazing range of information and services in Western society, but to what end? Library organizations and librarians mainly focus on the functional aspects of library services and professional activity while ignoring power relationships and the institutional framework of libraries within society. Public Libraries and Marxism analyzes the public library from a Marxist perspective by challenging our conventional liberal-democratic views that focus mostly on delivering services while ignoring its hegemonic basis of authority. John Pateman has extensive administrative experience. He headed libraries in the UK before he came to Canada in 2012 to be the CEO of Thunder Bay Public Library in Ontario. He has written articles and books with a Marxist viewpoint, such as Public Libraries and Social Justice (2010) and Developing Community Led Public Libraries (2013). Joe Pateman is a professor of politics at York University in Toronto, Ontario, and his main research interest concerns the theory and practice of Marxism-Leninism. Together, they have crafted a valuable introductory handbook for those interested in a Leninist version of Marxism and public librarianship. As well, each chapter has a useful bibliography that readers can pursue to navigate the complexities of Marxism.

The Patemans’ argument unfolds in six chapters  — (1) Introduction (2) The Marxist Interpretation of the Public Library (3) V. I. Lenin and Soviet Socialist Public Library System (4) Kim Il-Sung and Socialist Public Libraries in North Korea (5) The Vanguard Library (6) Conclusion. The authors dedicated this book to V.I. Lenin with a following quote from the leading Marxist-Leninist historian of the 1920s, Mikhail Pokrovskii, concerning the importance of libraries. Pokrovskii is quoted from time to time but there is no mention that he suffered the fate of many Russian intellectuals—his work was quickly discredited and his historical school eclipsed during the 1930s then rehabilitated to some extent after Stalin’s death.

The Introduction provides the essential features of Marxist-Leninist ideology, the interpretation of Marxist thought developed by Vladmir Lenin that emerged from Russia at the beginning of the 20th-century. Some readers may be familiar with the terminology of (a) dialectical materialism and its three laws; (b) the base and superstructure of historical materialism; (c) the hierarchical order of class analysis; (d) the creation of a classless, stateless society under scientific communism; and (e) the revolutionary leadership of Vanguardism. This exposition has the quality of brevity and clarity; however, I find the claim that Marxism is a scientific account of social change to be highly problematic. For me, Marxism is essentially a speculative philosophy because of its well-known imprecision (it can lead to many deductions or variants, yet no critical examination can entirely refute it) and its reliance on patterns, purpose, and meaning in history which the vast majority of historians reject because they see no purpose of goal in history. Further, Marxism-Leninism is less a philosophy and more a political ideology that calls for the creation of a Communist state; it is action oriented and analytic thought is mostly a handmaiden. The authors conclude this chapter by discussing other theoretical approaches used in library and information studies (LIS), such as Western Marxism, which they firmly repudiate likely because it is less focused on class or political struggles and more on cultural-social development, philosophy, or art.

Chapter 2 focuses on the library and librarians as historical entities. From the typical Marxist model of the forms of society, there are ancient, feudal, capitalist or bourgeois (Traditional Library), socialist (Community-Led), and communist (Needs-Based) public libraries. Library professionals emerged during the era of capitalism, even in socialist nations, but eventually, in a communist society, the previously exploited working classes will manage public libraries. At the centre of this argument are the teachings of Karl Marx, who introduced the concept that human society consisted of two parts: the base (the economic substructure that comprises the forces of production which provide the necessities of life and give rise to the relations of production, that is relations between people) and superstructure (the political, legal, religious, and cultural institutions of society). Marxists hold that productive forces are fundamental and determine the superstructure; however, some Marxist theorists (e.g., especially the Frankfurt School) postulate that the superstructure is of more interest: it may gain some autonomy and, on occasion, influence the base. Applied to public libraries as part of the superstructure, this generally means that the economic base ultimately shapes the library’s societal goals and objectives, its policies and procedures, as well as its staffing and services.

Because Marx and his followers viewed human history as a long-term class struggle, the public library, in its various incarnations in capitalist societies, evolved as an instrument of the power of the ruling bourgeoisie to control the working-class proletariat which comprised the majority of people in most countries: “the public library, as a cultural institution, functions in order to stabilise the economic base and, by extension, the rule of the property-owning class.” (p.29) As part of the authors’ thesis, the ruling elites and acquiescent petite-bourgeois librarians mostly excluded and ignored the voices of the unserved, disadvantaged and minorities. This is consistent with the capitalist idea that the individual and competitive self-interest are the central ingredients in society.

Although the modern public library in Western capitalist countries is theoretically supposed to serve everyone in society, in reality the authors observe that its failure to do so is all too evident. The ‘Traditional Library,’ the state-supported public libraries that emerged in the mid-19th century, served the same function as the mechanics’ institutes — they were instruments of social control. Today, the public library as an institution is often widely regarded as a mainstay of democratic values (i.e., liberty, freedom, pluralism, and equality), yet critical scrutiny of its actual history in LIS literature belies this entrenched belief. Consequently, the authors propose transformative ideas to completely rework the practices of public librarianship and the unconscious operation of ‘capitalist’ libraries. The Marxist perspective emphasizes group conflict through class struggle and the eventual success of the proletariat in seizing the means of production. The authors assert, “It is only under communism that truly public libraries can exist.” (p. 26)

Chapter 3 outlines the Leninist model followed by socialist/communist countries in the 20th-century. Because Vladimir Lenin believed that socialist public libraries and librarians could be a leading force in developing the cultural, educational, and technical knowledge of the masses, the Soviet Union created a centralized, state-controlled library service that drew initial praise even in the West. After Lenin’s death, his widow, Nadezhda Krupskaia, a Communist commissar of education, was largely responsible for the direction of library development and better training for librarians. Her writings are quoted extensively throughout the book. She infused libraries with new ideas about their goals and functions and helped promote a rapid expansion of literacy in the Soviet Union before she was discredited during the dictatorial regime of Stalin. Krupskaia felt that understanding readers, selecting books to suit readers’ interests by promoting communist thought, and better organization of resources would improve services. Today, the basic Marxist-Leninist model she helped establish in the Soviet Union continues in socialist countries such as Cuba, China, Cuba, Vietnam, Laos, and North Korea.

Chapter 4 outlines one country’s public library system, North Korea. Kim Il-Sung (1912–94), the national Supreme Leader, was mostly responsible for its development. His concept, inspired by Juche, was self-reliance in a national context. Public libraries in the Korean state must build upon a revolutionary outlook and the leadership of the Workers’ Party of Korea focusing on ideology and, more importantly, the authority of the Supreme Leader, a sort of allegiance on steroids. This chapter is quite helpful in explaining the development of public libraries in North Korea, a topic seldom appearing in the Western library literature. North Korean libraries have diverged somewhat from Marxist-Leninist orthodoxy but they retain many characteristics of the conventional model.

Chapter 5 discusses the ‘Vanguard Library’ and its potential in capitalist and socialist societies, especially Cuba. Lenin developed the idea of Vanguardism as a strategy whereby highly motivated, key members of the proletariat formed groups to further the goals of communist ideology. Of course, there are elements of elitism in this approach, a matter which leads back to the issue of social control of the working class and variant Marxist views about how capitalism would falter and collapse. The Vanguard Library leads the evolution of public libraries from one Marxist stage of historical development to the next. As capitalism declines and disappears, under vanguard action the Traditional Library will evolve into the socialist stage of the Community-Led library that better meets the needs of the working class. At some future point, the highest stage of public library progress will be reached under classless, stateless communist conditions and the Community-Led Library will transition into the Needs-Based Library. This latter incarnation of the public library faithfully serves the entire public without limitations. In the context of Cuba, the Vanguard Library is said to have played a critical role after the 1959 revolution brought Fidel Castro to power. The government established a network of libraries which vitalized the working class and rolled back illiteracy in short order. Vanguardism raises working-class consciousness by educating workers and by creating a ‘new man’ entirely in sync with socialist ideology and motivated by the best principles of class consciousness.

Considering what a Marxist library service would look like in the Western capitalist countries of today, Public Libraries and Marxism provides insights that help us understand the revolutionary impact of the potential for transformation in Western public librarianship. The Patemans outline why and how Western public libraries can change organizational practices, indeed their culture and mission, to better serve those in need. That is an important Marxist message for librarians to keep in mind as new challenges arise. It is not a utopian vision, but a call to understand our place in history and our communities, to reach unserved minorities and the working class, and to strive to build an authentic public library service that will finally achieve what it claims to do, to serve everyone. However, the vexed issue of who will lead the Vanguard is left open.

Although the writings of Karl Marx form the basis for Marxist-Leninist thought, e.g., the concept that the material conditions of life determine the nature of human consciousness and society, readers should note that many ideas outlined by the two authors feature the ideas of Vladimir Lenin who championed the establishment of the dictatorship of the proletariat led by a revolutionary vanguard party. Lenin, moving beyond the usual Marxist doctrine, theorized this action as the political prelude to the establishment of communism. Public Libraries and Marxism gives us a view of how to work toward communist public libraries, but readers must keep in mind there are many variations of Marxism to chose and follow. But for librarians or LIS scholars who may believe in the ultimate triumph of communism, this book can be a useful starting point.

A selection of V.I. Lenin’s writings on libraries and contributions by Nadezhda Krupskaia is available at the Internet Archive in a work by Sylva Šimsová, Lenin, Krupskaia and Libraries (London: Clive Bingley, 1968). Šimsová was a Czech citizen who emigrated to the UK after World War II and worked in London libraries for many years.

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 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 or E.P. Thompson’s The Making of the English Working Class (1963), 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 Marxist vein to reject the validity of the normative democratic discourse of librarians and challenge ideas that have pervaded Anglo-American-Canadian library statements 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, pragmatism, and independence from social, economic, or political developments. A general ideological outlook—a historical myth perhaps—confines 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 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.

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 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: War and depression; the war library [a short period that could be combined with the mass 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” period, 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 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 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 prospectus for Canadian history, “The Liberal Order Framework” (2000) which highlights the liberal-democratic 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.

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, but Sam Popowich goes further by setting forth a more powerful, transformative, innovative challenge to ingrained complacency in librarianship. Political awareness from a Marxist perspective: that’s not such a bad thing after all!

Ontario Public Libraries: The Provincial Role in a Triad of Responsibilities, 1982

Ontario Public Libraries: The Provincial Role in a Triad of Responsibilities. The Report of the Ontario Public Libraries Programme Review for the Minister of Citizenship and Culture. Toronto: Ministry of Citizenship and Culture, 1982. Executive Co-Ordinator, Peter J. Bassnett. Tables and appendices; xxxiii, 318 pp.

In September 1980, Ontario’s Minister of Culture and Recreation (MCR), Reuben Baetz, met with the Ontario Public Library Council (OPLC) to announce a two-year Public Libraries Programme Review (OPLPR). Scarborough’s chief librarian, Peter Bassnett, would be the director and work with a small intermediary group at the outset to plan the review process. Since 1975 he had been chief librarian at Scarborough. Before this appointment, he had managed systems at North York and worked in the UK for many years. The Minister believed a positive approach with abundant consultation would improve the delivery of library services throughout Ontario. The 1970s had been a time of controversy about the role of regional library services, the accountability of library boards, disputes with municipal authorities, the funding provided for libraries by the provincial government, and dissenting viewpoints about policies for future planning. A previous report on provincial libraries by Albert Bowron in 1975 had produced much discussion but no significant legislative changes. Revised public library legislation was the major objective because the older statute, enacted in 1966, had not proved to be as effective as originally expected.

The OPLPR established fifteen groups in search of consensus and solutions for many contentious issues. Some groups explored general provincial concerns: policy and social purpose (1), general delivery of services (2), governmental liaison (3), provincial financing and accountability (4), and field services (5). Task groups on planning and development for technological potential (6), electronic information (13), and co-operatives and processing centres (15) addressed technical and networking questions. Special considerations for northern Ontario (7), publishing and libraries (12), and access to resources (14) required separate groups. Finally, four groups studied cultural identities and services for French languages (8), Native services (9), multicultural programs (10), and disabled persons (11). Each group was responsible for a report to Peter Bassnett, who was charged with publishing a final report. In addition, Bassnett held 20 open sessions for discussion and received 368 briefs encompassing a wide variety of issues.

The OPLPR sets its course for a year-and-a-half with the knowledge that the Progressive Conservatives under William Davis had finally secured a majority government in a March 1981 election. Four years would be sufficient to develop new legislation for libraries. The OPLPR submitted seventy-five recommendations by August 1982. By then, there was a new Minister, Bruce McCaffrey, in charge, and, earlier in the year, in February 1982, the MCR had become the Ministry of Citizenship and Culture, with its Library and Community (MCZC) Information Branch relocated in the Arts, Heritage and Libraries division.

The OPLPR report, Ontario Public Libraries: The Provincial Role in a Triad of Responsibilities, was issued, mostly in microfiche to the consternation of many, by autumn 1982 for review by library boards, politicians, and librarians. The Bassnett report made clear-cut statements that cut across the entire spectrum of public library services. It found that the current provincial role performed by the LCIB or OPLC was deficient (p. 68–71). The Report indicated more specific legislation and guidelines were required (p. 93). Lack of awareness about the LCIB and OPLC and their inadequate authority had stalled communication and led to ineffectual provincial leadership. A strengthening of provincial direction within the Ministry through an enlarged staff component to plan and liaise with the library community was essential. A Public Library Services Division and a new advisory body would be required (rec. 7.72 and 7.73). Other recommendations for increased staff for data collection, French-language service, networking, services for disabled persons, aboriginal services, multicultural activity, management, and training responsibilities (p. 168–187) would permit the MCZC to deal with policies that it brought forward. Some ideas originated from background studies or were influenced by general developments such as the 1981 United Nations International Year of Disabled Persons theme ‘Full Participation and Equality.’ Assistance for non-professional staff, mostly untrained persons in charge of small libraries, was an important issue, the subject of one lengthy submission from an ad hoc group of consultants. In one case, the Task Force on Native Services, the main thrust urging the formation of a Council to oversee library services for natives at an estimated $290,000, was disregarded because the group insisted on working outside the framework of the LCIB. The OPLPR’s recommendations on northern Ontario conditions mostly bypassed the ideas from Task group 15 headed by Richard Jones, director of North Central region.

During the Programme Review, the regional role—now retitled the intermediary role—was gradually reshaped. A Network Development Office was transferred to the Ministry offices in July 1981 and some LCIB staff worked on a provincial study of union products for resource sharing in regional systems. The OPLPR was wary of multiple regional processing centres and bibliographic databanks. Task force 15 had recommended the Midwestern Region centre become a Crown Corporation. Instead, the OPLPR (p. 164–167) followed the Ministry’s internal report that recommended further study of Midwestern’s possibilities. A new path was clarified: automation and cooperative area networks were to become local level responsibilities supplemented with planning and financial assistance offered by the Province. Centralized regional acquisitions and processing utilities would no longer receive support. The Programme Review recommended intermediary involvement with basic services, such as rotating book collections, staff training, special collections, reference centres, programming for groups, and direct service to municipally unorganized populations. Some briefs authored by administrative groups emphasized long-standing issues such as resource libraries and centralized processing, but these positions were not conclusive. The key point was the Review’s statement that the intermediary role “is an extension of the Provincial Government’s responsibility and role in the delivery of public library services across Ontario” and that there were currently three types of regional service, “the northern, southern, and Metropolitan Toronto area” (p. 147–148). Northern distinctions warranted more proactive provincial library intermediaries. The southern systems were more complex, so the Review recommended a gradual phase-in over five years to one provincial agency with field offices, starting with Southwestern, Lake Erie, and Niagara (p.154–159). Metro Toronto required amendments to the Municipality of Metropolitan Toronto Act to repeal the Metro Library Board’s status as a regional library system and to authorize more sitting Metro Council members for the upper-level board. Provincial funding for the Metro Board would need an examination to determine what special purposes the province wanted to accomplish with its legislative payments (p. 160–164).

At the local level, the OPLPR made forty-two recommendations clarifying functions and management. Several recommendations would eventually make their way into the revised Library Act almost three years later in 1985. In place of standards, boards should embark on community analysis; boards should provide services their communities desired or needed; legislation for free entry to libraries and use of materials should be enacted; and services for particular groups (e.g., the disabled and Francophones) should be augmented with provincial assistance. Capital funds should be made available because only a few libraries had shared in the brief Wintario capital construction program in the late 1970s before the government redirected it to other purposes. Funding from programs such as Wintario and the Board of Industrial Leadership was important but episodic. Special funding for the creation of county-regional municipal systems and enrichment of per capita grants to northern libraries was a desideratum. Some recommendations addressed the composition of boards and their relationship with appointing bodies by affording municipal councils more control. The century-old traditional board of nine members, with the majority composed of public and separate school appointees from larger county school boards, was a leftover from the 1960s restructuring of school authorities. Now, municipal councils should make all the appointments (p. 116). In summarizing the provincial conditional grant to libraries, the Review found little change over ten years: the 1971 grant had totalled $8,552 million (20% of total support), and in 1981, $25,279 million (19% of total support). The Bassnett report recommended continuing payment of annual grants directly to boards. On the issue of non-operating boards, currently in 136 communities, the Report recommended the grant be paid only if municipal revenue matched its grant (p. 132–135). This policy, along with the promotion of larger units of service in counties and upper-tier municipalities, had the potential to halve the total number of boards.

The Bassnett report concluded by drafting a policy statement regarding public library service (p. 188–192). Ultimately, provincial goals should be:
▪ provision of public library legislation ensuring deww access and delivery of services;
▪ encouragement and support for municipal libraries;
▪ ensuring library collections reflect the population characteristics of their jurisdictions;
▪ encouragement and assistance for technological changes;
▪ development of a province-wide public information utility by networking municipal libraries; and
▪ provision of funding and staff support to achieve these goals.

The cost of expanding provincial support was not expensive: Task Group 4 estimated a 10.5% increase from $25.7 million to $28.5 million (p. 194). At the former regional levels, expenses could be reduced by 40 percent and be redirected to augment the proposed public library service division. In terms of the Public Libraries Act, the OPLPR recommended a complete overhaul. In response to the OPLPR, Bruce McCaffrey announced at the November 1982 Ontario Library Association conference in Toronto that his Ministry preferred to issue a ‘green paper’ for more discussion without any specific commitment to action, A Foundation for the Future/Réalitiés et Perspectives. This ‘green paper,’ released in December 1982, would form the basis for legislative changes. In February 1983, Wil Vanderelst, from the MCZC policy secretariat, became the new director of the LCIB, now shifted to the Ministry’s Culture and Regional Services Division. While the Ontario Public Libraries report had sought consensus on many issues, in fact, its author, Peter Bassnett, expressed dissatisfaction with the ‘green paper’ in the Toronto Star in May 1983. He felt many of his recommendations had been passed over or modified. Such was the fate of many recommendations in the OPLPR: finding consensus in the library community was an uncommonly difficult task.

There were, however, positive outcomes of the OPLPR. Municipal councils gained more control over library board appointments, thus ending a decade-long struggle. Free access to a variety materials became an important feature of new legislation enacted in 1985. The Province reiterated its support for conditional grants paid directly to library boards. The conflict and confusion about regional library boards was reduced when the province took control of southern and northern ‘intermediary’ services and began to deliver targeted policies, such as Francophone concerns, disabled programs, and improved service to indigenous communities. The review, which appeared at the same time when ‘turnkey systems’ were beginning to provide integrated solutions for library functions, proposed extensive automation projects be supported by provincial studies (p. 166). The idea of equalization of services addressed on large geographic scale came firmly into play. In fact, after almost four decades, very few changes have been made to the original 1984–85 legislation; again, one of the accomplishments that may be traced to the Bassnett report.

Libraries: Past, Present, Future. An address by Marshall McLuhan, 1970

Libraries: Past, Present, Future. An Address delivered by Marshall McLuhan at the Geneseo State College Library School, New York State, on July 3, 1970 for the 13th annual Mary C. Richardson lectures series. Typescript, 32 leaves.

 From the mid-1960s into the 1970s, Marshall McLuhan was sought out as a speaker across North America. The media theorist had coined the famous expression “the medium is the message,” categorized media as “hot” or “cool,” and spoke of an interconnected world as a “global village.” His ideas were controversial and often expressed in a somewhat ambiguous or aphoristic style. One of his messages about the dominance in contemporary society of electronic media, especially television, to the detriment of printed books and newspapers, gave many librarians cause for concern about the future of libraries and traditional print media. Canada’s National Librarian, W.K. Lamb, refused to believe that the book was becoming obsolete. In an interview, he held that the books could be reproduced using computerized telecommunications and that libraries would use computing to automate catalogues to make books available for loan (Ottawa Citizen, 17 June 1967). Daniel Gore, in a November 1970 issue of American Libraries, said, “McLuhan is merely a recent example of the learned man who despises books; the phenomenon itself is ancient.”  Robert B. Downs, in his Books That Changed America, published by Macmillan in 1970, completely rejected McLuhan assertions on the declining fortune of print: “Denigrators of books, such as Marshall McLuhan, would have us believe that books are obsolescent, being rapidly superseded by the newer media. Thus they would hold that books have had their day—possibly significant and influential in earlier eras, but now on the way to becoming museum pieces” by citing the societal impact of popular authors Rachel Carson and Ralph Nader.

Mary Richardson, c.1933

    Yet, McLuhan’s use of the hot-button word “obsolete” pointed more to the trend that printed media were less ascendant and subject to changing technology rather than non-usage and extinction. He made this point in his address at the School of Library Science at the State University College of New York College in Geneseo in July 1970. Geneseo was a liberal arts college which had conferred American Library Association fully-accredited library degrees since the Second World War. The special occasion was the thirteen annual Mary C. Richardson Lecture, named in honour of a former departmental director who had a special interest in school libraries. Dr. Richardson was Librarian and Head of the Geneseo Library Education Department from 1917–1941. McLuhan clarified his remarks about obsolescence briefly:

I have been saying that the book and printing are obsolete for some years. Many people interpret this to mean that printing and the book are about to disappear. Obsolescence, in fact, means the exact opposite. It means that a service has become so pervasive that it permeates every area of a culture like the vernacular itself. Obsolescence, in short, ensures total acceptance and every wider use. (28)

    McLuhan’s use of obsolescence on a broader scale referred to traditional media adapting to technological change by changing their form or usage. Henry Campbell, the chief librarian at Toronto Public Library, picked up on this point when McLuhan’s fame was accelerating. Writing in the May 1965 issue of the Wilson Library Bulletin, he posed the question: “Some of us in Canada are asking: Are libraries hot or cool? Is there a place for libraries in an electronic culture, one of simultaneity, or are they by their very nature trapped in a linear and nonsensory mold that spells their doom?” Campbell did not answer, but he suggested librarians must raise questions about knowledge in all its aspects to know more about librarianship as a profession.

    The Geneseo talk to students and faculty concentrated on the history and current state of libraries in a wide-ranging McLuhanesque fashion. He linked the history of libraries to different eras of media formats—ancient clay tablets and scrolls, medieval codices and manuscripts, the Gutenberg print revolution that enabled rapid knowledge sharing, and the 20th-century electronic environment. As McLuhan saw it, “One of the revolutionary effects of Gutenberg for libraries was that the printed book was both portable and expendable. Uniform and repetitive or mass produced commodities had their beginning with the printed book. The Gutenberg technology of union, moveable types became the pattern and exemplar for all subsequent forms of mass production.” (22) Libraries of all types in the modern sense, he believed, began to flourish with the mass-produced book with an emphasis on the problems of storage and systems of book classification (23). Now, “the paperless, or software library, brings the Gutenberg assembly line of movable types into an altogether new circle of magical effects.” (26) These effects, the new speed of electronic transmission applied to the traditional book, would result in its “strange alternation of use and function. (28) Further,

With the multitude of new forms of photography and reprography, the diversities of utterance and self-outering [sic] have come into being. On the one hand, pictures supplant a great deal of verbal expression and, on the other hand, the verbal acquires an extraordinary new range of resonance and implications. (31)

    McLuhan was less prescriptive about the future of the libraries. To be sure, libraries would continue to exist, but the effects of the all-pervasive electronic world would lead to the release of unknown intents or controls, like the trends and processes unknowingly released by Gutenberg more than five centuries before. McLuhan was forecasting the influence of powerful global media that would erode geographic boundaries and cultural insularity. At Geneseo, he hinted that libraries would continue to connect authors with readers just as they had in the small departmental English library he had used as an undergraduate at Cambridge many years before.

Further Reading:

Parts of the McLuhan 1970 address are incorporated in R.K. Logan and M. McLuhan, The Future of the Library: From Electric Media to Digital Media (New York: Peter Lang, 2016). This book reproduces and supplements an unpublished manuscript dating to 1979 that McLuhan and Logan co-authored.

An earlier talk by Marshall McLuhan to Ontario librarians is the subject of one of my earlier blogs.

Four eastern Canadian library associations convene at Montreal, April 1939

The scope for library collaboration across Canada broadened in the 1930s when more provincial library associations were formally organized in Quebec (1932), the Maritimes (1935), and Manitoba (1936). When these new groups joined the established library associations in Ontario (1900) and British Columbia library (1911), liaising more effectively on a west-west axis became possible. For three decades, Canadian librarians had looked to the south—to the American Library Association (ALA) or Pacific Northwest Library (PNLA)Association—to establish professional relationships. Although sporadic attempts to found a national library organization had floundered, library changes at the provincial level and the development of regional libraries were proving to be more successful. The Montreal Special Libraries Association and Library Association of Ottawa provided the groundwork for hosting larger conferences in large cities. Now, there was a firmer basis to move forward on broader issues,

    After the economic slump of the early 1930s, North American librarianship was invigorated by the catchword “cooperation.”  When the ALA returned to Montreal in 1934 for a convention, it debated an American “National Plan” to improve access and mitigate local and state tax inequities. As well, the concept of a Canadian Library Council to represent libraries on a national basis was revived and a decision was made to re-establish an association of Maritime libraries. Three years later, British Columbia librarians and Americans in the PNLA mixed pleasure with business at Harrison Hot Springs in the Fraser Valley on Labour Day weekend, 1937. They saw first-hand the success of the Fraser Valley Regional Library, discussed the issue of trade unionism, and debated whether library collections should aim to be primarily “highbrow” or “lowbrow.” Earlier in the same year, the OLA had met with other associations outside its traditional location, Toronto. At the request of Ottawa’s mayor and city library groups, the OLA, Quebec Library Association (QLA), Ottawa Library Association, the Montreal Special Libraries Association, and two delegates from the Maritime Library Institute held joint sessions at the Chateau Laurier on Victoria Day weekend, 24–25 May. This meeting was the first inter-provincial library gathering to be held in Canada. Dorothy Carlisle, OLA President 1936–37, and other officials hosted almost 250 delegates. A notable speaker on “Books, Readers, and Reviewers” was Martin Burell, the Librarian of Parliament since 1920, who was known as a politician and writer. Other federal officials expressed a desire to cooperate with libraries, notably with the publication and distribution of government documents. A library “bonne entente” was established, and, subsequently, the OLA accepted an invitation by the QLA to Canada’s metropolitan centre, Montreal, for 1939.

Joint Conference of the Ontario, Quebec and Montreal Special Library Associations and the Maritime Library Institute, Montreal, April 10–11, 1939

    In April 1939, at Montreal’s stately Windsor Hotel, a short time before the arrival of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, the QLA and OLA joined with the Montreal Special Libraries Association and delegates from the Maritime Library Institute. Members from the recently formed Eastern Townships Library Association and the library group of the Professional Institute of Civil Service of Canada also attended. It was evident a European conflict was fast approaching. Poland and Britain had recently agreed to a treaty to forestall German aggression. The approaching Royal Visit to Newfoundland and Canada in May and June reminded Canadians of their British ties. Over the Easter weekend, newspapers carried the story of Italian forces occupying Albania. The OLA’s President, Kathleen (Moyer) Elliott, from Galt [now Cambridge], relied on Rudyard Kipling to inspire her audience: “If civilization is really slipping from us nothing is to be gained by stopping work to worry. If the values in which we believe are yet to triumph, then the very best we can do is to keep on keeping on.” Kipling’s exhortation to stay the course was wise guidance in spring 1939.

Nora Bateson, n.d.

    The Presidents of the Quebec Library Association and Montreal Special Libraries Association, Helen Haultain and Beatrice Howell, welcomed conference-goers on Monday. There were more than two hundred in attendance anticipating speeches and business meetings. The Montreal joint conference reprised many of the decade’s library developments and presented initiatives for further activity. The speech by the new Director of Libraries in Nova Scotia, Nora Bateson, was perhaps the first-day highlight. She spoke about her efforts to form regional libraries in Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia. For as little as thirty-five cents a taxpayer, good regional service could be organized in Nova Scotia. Bateson proposed spending this levy on books and services rather than buildings. Another highlight was a meeting of children’s librarians: Mary Falconer (Halifax), Donalda Putnam (Montreal), and Jean Thomson (Toronto) described services, especially storytelling, in their respective areas. Lillian Smith presided over this session and subsequently used the opportunity to form the Canadian Association of Children’s Librarians (CACL). This new national association, regional in scope at first, was perhaps a response to Smith’s recent observation in an ALA publication that a “sense of isolation” was a chief handicap felt by many children’s librarians. The CACL met in Hamilton in October 1939 and spread westward during WWII to include librarians such as Amy Hutchinson (New Westminster) and Louise Riley (Calgary). It would become part of the Canadian Library Association in 1946.

  Major A.L. Normandin, head of Public Printing and Stationery at Ottawa, discussed the governmental distribution and current listings of national publications. Many librarians, such as W.S Wallace at the University of Toronto, had been pressing the Dominion government to publish a monthly and annual checklist of Canadian federal publications to replace the unsatisfactory annual price list of in-print publications begun shortly before WWI. Normandin was sympathetic, but it would not be until 1953 that the Queen’s Printer would publish daily and monthly check lists with annual cumulations.

    Two McGill representatives, Philip J. Turner, School of Architecture, and Colonel Wilfrid J. Bovey, Director of Extramural Relations and Extension, addressed delegates on architecture and French-Canadian cultural achievements. Turner had overseen the remodelling of the Westmount Public Library in 1936. The colonel’s presentation caught the attention of the Montreal press, especially Le Devoir: Bovey “rendu un mangnifique témoignage aux Canadiens français.” La Presse, the Montreal Gazette and the Montreal Daily Star were also impressed with the McGill presentations.

    Another address by Queen’s University director, Ernest Cockburn Kyte, caught the most attention in English-speaking newspapers. His address was “A Canadian National Library,” by now a familiar theme to librarians but not the general public. Kyte cited the need to collect Canadiana of all sorts but not overstate the need for a new building. He emphasized the urgency to begin collecting immediately. His comments attracted a supportive editorial in the Montreal Daily Star: “It is therefore to be hoped that the committee which has been appointed by the librarians to achieve a national institution will be successful in its efforts and that the public will heartily support the project. Self-respect on the part of Canadians should go far to assure this.” An act to establish a national library came into force in 1953.

    One immediate positive news note at the conference highlighted successful efforts to achieve a Library Book Rate, a postal subsidy authorized by the Postmaster General. Across Canada, sending books by mail was becoming commonplace and was regarded as an educational asset. The 1930–33 Commission of Enquiry led by John Ridington, George Locke, and Mary Black had supported the concept of a reduced postal rate for library books. British Columbia and Ontario librarians had begun to advocate for this rate in briefs and letters to the government. After the Canada and Newfoundland Education Association also supported reduced rates in 1938, the Ontario College of Education surveyed a hundred major libraries in early 1939. The survey revealed more than 300,000 books, excluding book packages, had been issued. Clearly, books-by-mail was becoming a substantial activity. Conference-goers were pleased to learn that a federal book rate would be introduced shortly. By the summer of 1939, a special rate came into effect. Books passing between libraries and their patrons within the same province would be assessed at 5¢ for the first pound and 1¢ for each additional pound. Canadian librarians and educators could toast a small victory.

    The 1939 Canadian library conference in Montreal raised many subjects that would continue to resonate in the library community into future years: subsidized postal book rates, anational library in Ottawa, improved children’s services, regional library systems, and better bibliographic control of government publications. The most significant step, of course, proposed by E.C. Kyte, was the formation of a Canadian Library Association which would continue annual conferences such as the successful one in Montreal. The Commission of Enquiry had supported the idea of a national association and a national library in the depths of the Great Depression but believed conditions were not sufficient for their establishment. By the late 1930s, Canadian libraries had recovered from the worst effects of the global depression; however, wartime restrictions would force librarians and libraries to wait seven years longer for a Dominion-wide association to be formed.

Additional Blogs postings:

The 1930–33 Commission of Enquiry (2013)

Nora Bateson’s regional efforts in the Maritimes (2014)

Two Fraser Valley films: The Fraser Valley Public Library (c. 1932) and The Library on Wheels (1945)

Fraser Valley Public Library, 16 mm., b & w., 12 minutes, c. 1932. British Columbia Public Library Commission. Photographed and produced by H. Norman Lidster.

The Library on Wheels, 16 mm., b & w, 14 minutes, 1945. National Film Board of Canada. Produced by Gudrun Parker and directed by Bill MacDonald.

The use of 16 mm. films for the promotion of Canadian library services began in earnest with Hugh Norman Lidster during the Great Depression. He was a practicing lawyer, a councillor, and a library board member in New Westminster, BC. In 1929, Lidster was appointed to the British Columbia Public Library Commission, a position to which he made many contributions until his retirement in 1966. In addition to his local and provincial contributions, he was active on the national level and received an Award of Merit from the Canadian Library Trustees’ Association in 1962. Lidster became an avid “home movie” enthusiast in the twenties and bought his first movie camera in 1930. Within a few years, he began to document local events and to promote the new Fraser Valley library regional demonstration (FVRL) funded by the Carnegie Corporation of New York from 1930-34. At some point, likely in 1932, Lidster decided to film the library’s new book van on its travels. Fortunately, his work has been preserved; consequently, we can view many of this region’s early community libraries, deposit stations, schools, its rural landscape and mountains, gravel roads, and even the old Agassiz-Rosedale ferry, which was replaced by a bridge in 1956.
 
Lidster’s film is essentially a promotional film to showcase the Carnegie demonstration. It shows library service in the Fraser Valley and follows the book van on its routes from community to community. The film depicts various aspects of the library service and perhaps shows a brief closeup of the energetic director-librarian, Helen Gordon Stewart, at the outset. For today’s viewers, the smaller Canadian communities of the Fraser in the early 1930s appear by 21st century standards to be underdeveloped in terms of technology and economics. Even a decade and a half later, when the Library on Wheels was produced, this same impression prevails. Still, we must consider that Canada was less urbanized at this time: the valley’s principal towns were Abbotsford and Chilliwack, each with about 1,000 population or less. Forestry and farming were major sectors in a resource-based economy. Canada’s economy was growing on an international basis, and its gross domestic product ranked with countries such as Argentina, Poland, and Spain. Postwar economic growth in commercial industry, trade, services, and tourism would, of course, introduce many changes. Today the FVRL serves about 700,000 people.

Fraser Valley book van exiting ferry, ca 1932

 

Serving the rural population in BC was a key goal of the Provincial Public Library Commission Lidster served on. An important BC survey conducted in 1927 recommended that larger administrative library districts based on cooperation between municipalities and school districts would best serve rural communities that could not afford to fund local libraries for improving standards. Fortunately, the Carnegie Corporation of New York awarded a grant of $100,000 to operate a multi-year library project, which commenced in 1930. A notable feature of this project was its book van that traversed an area of approximately 1,000 square miles. The van made regular stops at small community association libraries, filling stations, grocery stores, and country corners. At each stop, it displayed books on its exterior covered shelves for people, young and old, to browse.

 
The experiment in regional library service proved to be quite successful. At its conclusion each community voted whether to continue the regional library with local taxes. Twenty municipalities agreed to do so, and in autumn 1934, a union library was formally established at a ceremony held in Chilliwack. The provincial government provided additional funding to encourage growth.

Eager readers at a book stop, Library on Wheels, 1945

 

The FVRL was a successful model. Two more regional libraries were formed in BC, one on Vancouver Island and another in the Okanagan Valley, before Gudrun Parker, a Winnipeg born film producer who began her career with the National Film Board (NFB) during the Second World War, teamed up with the NFB director Bill MacDonald. He was a talented writer with a particular interest in conservation and outdoor sports, especially fishing. Together, they made an enjoyable reprise of the book van’s travels in the Fraser throughout four weeks in 1944. The NFB crew interacted with many residents during filming. Later, MacDonald recounted: “They took us into their confidence and they told us what they thought of the library and showed us the books they liked to read.” With sound, of course, the Library on Wheels is entertaining because it is also professionally edited. Parker, who eventually would receive the Order of Canada for her body of work in 2005, credited one source of inspiration as Richard Crouch, the chief librarian of London, Ont. Crouch travelled across Canada on a Carnegie grant administered by the Canadian Library Council during the war. He was noted for his advocacy for the role of the “library in the community.” Two years later, in 1947, Parker and Crouch collaborated again, this time to produce the NFB short film, New Chapters, which documented the London library’s cultural and leisure activities in the Forest City. The later film received less promotion and was eclipsed in popularity by yet another bookmobile film of the same year, The Books Drive On, which highlighted libraries and communities in the Ontario county of Huron.

The Library on Wheels proved to be an influential asset for library promoters after WWII. Proponents of regional libraries in the west, especially in Saskatchewan, used the film to establish better rural services linked by newer bookmobiles rather than truck vans. Today, both films still resonate with the spirit of our open country and Canadians’ love of books.

Norman Lidster’s film can be viewed on YouTube here.

 

Watch the NFB’s Library on Wheels on YouTube here (part 1) and here (part 2).

ONTARIO'S LANDMARK PUBLIC LIBRARIES ACT, 1920

A century ago, in June 1920, the Farmer-Labour government in Ontario introduced a new public libraries act, mostly through the work of the Education Department's provincial library Inspector, William O. Carson. He had been London's chief librarian for a decade before moving to Toronto in 1916 to undertake the task of vitalizing Ontario's libraries during the difficult years of the First World War. The contemporary act he inherited dated back as far as 1882, with major revisions issued in 1895 and 1909. But, with the appearance of Carnegie buildings (125 in Ontario), better training for library assistants and librarians, and far different economic conditions facing municipalities after four decades of population growth, the provisions of the older act (which had at one time included mechanics' institutes) no longer suited a province that had suffered rural depopulation and was becoming increasingly urbanized after the 1911 census.

Carson spent his first few years in the small library office of the Education Department at Queen's Park studying the province's public libraries, the free ones with mandatory library tax rates and the association-membership ones that depended on fundraising for their operations. By early 1920, an entirely new act with revisions to older sections was ready to be introduced into the legislative process for three readings. The new law came into effect on June 4th, 1920, after a relatively easy passage through the Ontario legislature. No less than George Locke, Toronto's energetic chief librarian, pronounced that the new act was the greatest step forward in public library development on the continent. Mary J.L. Black was also enthusiastic, writing that the act "may well be considered as the most progressive and practical Library Act that has ever appeared in any statue book, the world over."

The new act was indeed praiseworthy, but not perfect; it served Ontario's public library community well until it was replaced by an entirely new act in 1966. The prominent feature of the new act was its provision for local financing of free public libraries. Previously, library boards had relied on a mandatory minimum municipal levy of one half-mill on the assessed valuation of property (real or personal) in their communities.  Of course, municipalities varied in population, local assessments differed as did tax rates, and many local councils considered the half-mill to be a maximum rather than a minimum. Consequently, Carson introduced a mandatory annual minimum fifty cents per capita levy for municipalities, police villages, and school sections where free libraries existed. The rationale: libraries served people, not property! Municipal councils were also authorized to increase the "public library rate" by majority votes (a seldom used clause as it turned out).

The new act adhered to the concept of enabling municipal based library service. Following the successful vote of eligible electors, a board could be established; these boards, usually composed of nine members in cities, were governed by appointed members and the appointing powers were divided among school and municipal authorities to ensure the semi-independence of each board. For rural library development, the province continued the long-standing tradition, dating back to 1851, of allowing the formation of association (membership) libraries that elected boards of five to ten members from its membership each year. Association libraries were not eligible for the minimum fifty cents per capita rate and had to subsist on members' fees and fundraising events for their operations. Often, Carson's departmental travelling library sections supplied associations with small boxes of books as supplemental reading for their membership.

For its role in library development, Ontario, through its Department of Education, the act authorized provisions for the minister (an office usually held by the sitting Premier) to pay grants to public libraries to a typical maximum of $250.  These provisions encouraged local growth on a "self-help" basis:

1) city branches became eligible for grants on the same basis as main libraries, a stipulation that Toronto enthusiastically endorsed;

2) legislative regulations provided for a grant of fifty percent on book purchases up to $400 and fifty percent on periodicals and newspapers not to exceed $100;

3) a grant of $10 for a reading room open a certain number of hours a week;

4) a few special grants were set aside for small libraries and reading room service.

Carson was also able to convince the government to empower the minister of education to encourage additional services in the interest of public libraries, notably authority to maintain a library school and library institutes. Carson had lengthened the time for library education and training using the Toronto Public Library as a practice facility. Library institutes were shorter workshop sessions aimed at improving the trustees' knowledge about modern library development. The minister also was given the right to pass regulations governing the qualifications of librarians and assistants. Carson, and other leading Ontario librarians, such as George Locke and Mary J.L. Black, considered the librarian and staff to be essential to the success of library service.

For many years, Ontario's library law was cited as a model for other provincial jurisdictions. The 1933 Carnegie sponsored report, Libraries in Canada, noted it was the most complete library act in Canada and could be used as a guide. However, Ontario's act had not adequately dealt with the problem of the small rural library. Union boards could be formed, but this section of the act was seldom used. The commissioners who reported in 1933 singled out Ontario's problem and pointed to the essential provisions of a "good" library act:

1) a statement of purpose for the public library;

2) a central supervising and "energizing" agency;

3) a representative and responsible local management;

4) a sure and adequate income.

Further, the three Carnegie commissioners suggested a statutory Library Commission (like the existing one in British Columbia) would strengthen the hand of the Department's library inspectorate. County and regional library amendments were also necessary to ensure cooperative efforts in rural areas. A Commission, of course, had been rejected by Ontario's government as far back as 1902. County library cooperative legislation was introduced in 1947, regional co-operative could be formed after 1957, and, eventually, county libraries were authorized in 1959. These amendments were the most significant changes to the 1920 Act over the course of forty-five years.

When the new Act of 1966 came into effect, it eliminated some prominent vestiges of the past that were features of the 1920 Act: the need for local plebiscites to establish libraries, the requirement to be a British subject, the voluntary Library Association form of governance, and the minimum per capita library rate of 1920. From the perspective of a century, the 1920 Act, although hailed at the time as a modern advancement, fell short in vital areas. From the very first, a Michigan librarian familiar with Canadian and American conditions, Samuel Ranke, estimated that $1.00 per capita would be more a more suitable rate. The new act lacked provisions to permit, or encourage, cooperative services between library boards, except for the union board clause. Trustees, for the most part, need not look beyond their community. Library operations in smaller places frequently were in the hands of self-trained local appointments because there was no requirement to hire trained personnel. Boards assumed a "hands-on approach" and made decisions about book selection and finances. Reappointment of trustees, rather than an infusion of new blood, was standard practice.

In many respects, the 1920 Act consolidated previous ideas about how library service should develop within Ontario's municipal structure, which dated to 1849. But future progress in Ontario would depend on ideas and attitudes quite unlike the ones which characterized the successes of the public library movement from 1880-1920. By 1950, it was evident changes would be necessary and new library amendments began to appear with regularity. Indeed, Ontario's municipal framework began to undergo similar reviews to accommodate changing demographics and social issues.

The full text of the act is available on the Internet Archive.

Toronto’s Free Library: Facts for the Citizens (1881) by John Taylor

Toronto’s Free Library: Facts for the Citizens by John Taylor. Toronto: n.p., signed 25 October 1881,  4 p., tables.

John Taylor was born in Leek, Staffordshire, England, in 1841. He came to Canada as a teenager with his family when he was fourteen. His early business training was with Taylor Brothers, paper makers, a firm that was at the forefront in an expanding paper industry based on the use of wood pulp. After leaving the firm, John ventured into the commission business with J.L. Morrison. He eventually established his own major factory specializing in the manufacture of soap, John Taylor & Company, on the Don River.

Taylor became a director of the Toronto Mechanics' Institute in the 1870s, showing an interest in the welfare and education of working people. He was treasurer of the Institute in 1880. He was also a member and president of the St. George's Society which sought to assist immigrants and those in need.  He also entered the arena of politics, serving as an alderman and school trustee. By 1881, he was becoming a promoter of a public library in Toronto with the publication of a short booklet, Toronto’s Free Library. Along with John Hallam, Taylor became a leading exponent of free library service for Toronto residents, although their ideas were not entirely in unison despite the Grip illustration caption from March 25, 1882.

Taylor's small tract begins with a statement that Toronto was in need of the intelligence a free library could provide for its future welfare and good government. Taylor, like his friend John Hallam and many others, believed in cultural accessibility and the communication of ideas to society through systematic education. Books and magazines could help explain the organization and processes of government and help explain current issues. Libraries could also provide resources to study social conditions. Already, in the United States and Great Britain, libraries were in operation affording free reading to thousands of people. Taylor offers examples of libraries in America, Britain, France, and Australia to buttress his point and, to counter skeptics, asserts that "it must not be taken for granted that reading for amusement is the sole aim of a rate-supported library." As well, he offers another argument based on his view of democratic political life in North America:

Free libraries are certainty not so numerous in Great Britain as in the United States. Class distinction is much more clearly marked in the Old World than on this side the Atlantic, and that same wave of democracy that has done so much to merge classes and creeds among our neighbours will no doubt in time reach the Dominion without necessarily weakening the loyalty of the people."

Taylor, like his friend Hallam and most Ontarians, was reluctant to disassociate his promotion of libraries from the preservation of the British connection. He was more concerned with a practical scheme for Toronto.

There are two feasible methods of establishing a library from municipal funds. One plan—advanced by my colleague in the Council, Alderman Hallam—is to forestall and fund a portion of the rate so as to erect handsome and suitable buildings at once and fill (or partially fill) them with say 60,000 or 80,000 volumes the first year. The other plan would be to commence on a more moderate scale and spend the money in books, etc., as it is granted. Either way would secure a grand result for any corporation availing itself of the Act. I would advance such an establishment that the maintenance thereof would not exceed $5000 a year for Librarian, Assistants, Caretaker, gas, etc., so that the purchase account for new books, periodicals and newspapers may be as large as possible.

Taylor even suggested a civic museum could be established with the free library and that the cost to a small householder would only be about twenty-five cents a year, the price of one dinner at a farmer's hotel! At civic elections held at the start of the new year, in January 1883, Toronto's ratepayers voted in favour of the ballot question to establish a library thereby authorizing the city council to establish a bylaw for its creation. Like his aldermanic counterpart, John Hallam, does not reference the term "democracy."  He is content to postulate that the library would ultimately contribute to a better-educated citizenry.

Taylor's contribution to the establishment of Toronto's free library was satirized by Grip on December 2nd, 1882. In time, Taylor, and other directors of the Toronto Mechanics' Institute, came to favour a third option, i.e., the transfer of property belonging to the Institute to the municipality for free library purposes according to Ontario's 1882 Free Libraries Act. On 29 March 1883, at a special general meeting, the Institute's directors (which included Taylor) voted to transfer all its property (and liabilities) to the city of Toronto. Later, on 20 June, the transfer deed giving legal effect was executed. The institute formally reopened on 6 March 1884 as Toronto's free library on the corner of Church and Adelaide Streets. John Taylor served as chair of the new Toronto Public Library in 1885 and continued on its Board of Management until January 1900.


John Taylor's short pamphlet is available at Canadiana Online.

Notes by the Way on Free Libraries and Books (1882) by John Hallam

Notes by the Way on Free Libraries and Books with a Plea for the Establishment of Rate-Supported Libraries in the Province of Ontario by John Hallam. Toronto: Globe Printing Company, 1882, 36 p. tables.

John Hallam was born in Chorley, Lancashire, England, in 1833, the son of a poor workingman. When he was still a boy, he worked in a cotton mill to help his parents. In his early twenties, Hallam emigrated to Canada, arriving in Toronto in 1856. For several years he took on menial work as a labourer but managed to save money to open a small business as a hide, wool and leather merchant. Through his own exertions and business acumen he developed a thriving business that became a leading Canadian importer and exporter, including a branch plant in Winnipeg. A political Liberal of the Lancashire type who preferred individual liberties, popular suffrage (including universal suffrage for women), and free trade, Hallam was out of step with the established Conservative norms which characterized "Tory Toronto;" nevertheless, he entered municipal politics in 1870 as an alderman, a position he held at different intervals for the next three decades. He campaigned unsuccessfully for mayor in 1900, finishing third. Hallam died shortly afterward at his residence on Isabella Street, Linden Villa. He was civic-minded and was one of the first directors of the Canadian National Exhibition which opened in 1879. Today, his original summer property in Rosedale, Chorley Park, continues to be enjoyed by Toronto residents with its quiet walkways and small gardens. Another notable civic contribution, of course, is the Toronto Public Library, one of the busiest public libraries in North America.

Because his personal interest leaned to book collecting, it is not surprising that John Hallam eventually became a prominent library promoter as well. He was treasurer of the Toronto Mechanics' Institute in 1871. His survey of libraries and call for the establishment of free library legislation was published in early 1882, Notes by the Way on Free Libraries and Books. His pamphlet was the summary of his inquiries by letter and personal visits to England, France, and Germany in the course of his travels, particularly in 1881. Hallam had already proposed the formation of a library in Toronto at the outset of 1881 and contacted both the Minister of Education, Adam Crooks, and Premier, Oliver Mowat, about the need for enabling legislation. The alderman made a forthright statement for rate-supported public libraries in his preface:

Free public libraries, to be useful and successful, must be rate supported, and free from the tedious formalities of an educational department, and represent every phase of human thought and opinion, every class and condition of men, and be absolutely free from all political and sectarian influences. They are the institutions of the people. They must initiate, manage and pay for their support.

In the opening pages of his work, Hallam stressed the value of reading and books. "Books are the records of human feeling, opinion, action and experience; and though the mere form of such records may have differed in different ages, the desire for and creation of such records have been inseparable from the career of mankind" (p. 8). His argument ranged from the Egyptian pharaohs, the library of Alexandria, the medieval period, and modern Europe, punctuated with quotes from celebrated authors such as Cicero and Milton. He emphasized that classroom education in the schools and self-education in adult life were the keys to a successful life.

Hallam followed with a description of library progress in France, Germany, and Great Britain which was the focus of his tract. He defended novel reading in a section on Leicester and praised the work being done in Birmingham and Manchester. Liverpool, Bradford, and Preston also received his attention. He had less information on American states, Edinburgh, and Dublin, but noted the evolution of thought in public library thinking after 1850. Of course, Hallam followed the conventional contemporary interpretation of Canadian ties to Britain and its imperial economic and cultural successes unlike Goldwin Smith's view of continental linkages with the United States.

Hallam also wrote about Canadian developments, such as they were. Most of his comments were directed to Egerton Ryerson's free libraries in schools which had been mostly "abandoned" by the government of the day. However, Hallam cleverly framed his central line of reasoning: "I put the question, that if a municipal tax freely voted by the people for the support of common schools works wisely and well, surely a rate for libraries must work in the same way" (p. 28). In a few paragraphs he sketched a plan for provincial legislation in Ontario to allow the formation of free public libraries. This would require the successful vote of the ratepayers in a city, town, or village to permit a suggested annual 1/2 mill rate, an expression of direct democracy through a referendum. He does not provide further details (such as the administration of libraries) but does provide insight into what he, a good liberal Victorian committed to cultural elevation, felt should be in the circulating collections.

I think the ingredients of such a library should be as general, as attractive and as fascinating as possible. I would have in a library of this sort a grand and durable foundation of solid, standard, fact literature. I would have a choice, clean-minded, finely imaginative superstructure of light reading. The vulgar, the sensuously sensational, the garbage of the modern press, I would most scrupulously avoid, just as I would avoid dirt and the devil. I would have everything in a library of this kind useful and captivating; mentally speaking, there should be nothing nasty and nothing dull in it. Next to dirty reading, for badness of effect, is dull reading. (p. 30-31)

Hallam then closed his arguments by summarizing his rationale for free library support. He maintained that free libraries were "profitable investments" for the public that developed a taste for reading, offered paths of study, and diverted working-men from street corners or "dram shops." They introduced the great minds of the past to new readers, promoted public virtue and enlightenment, and influenced social order, respectability, and intelligence. Thus, "by developing these virtues amongst the multitude, they [libraries] must necessarily diminish the ranks of those two great armies which are constantly marching to gaols and penitentiaries, and in the same ratio they must decrease the sums of money which ratepayers have to provide for the maintenance of those places" (p. 31). Ultimately, he contended that it was wiser to pay for intelligence than to tolerate ignorance.

John Hallam and his fellow alderman, John Taylor, were important promoters of free public library service in Toronto. Taylor also published a short tract, Toronto's Free Library, earlier in 1881, proposing the adoption of rate support of a 1/2 mill on the dollar. But Hallam's work was more detailed and specific about the purpose and benefits of free libraries. Although he does not reference the word "democracy," he calls upon the active, direct participation of citizens through the municipal referendum process to authorize the formation of libraries and thereby support the concept of rate-support for collections to be available freely to citizens. The library as a separate institution would be managed publicly, separate from the school system. Its resources could assist citizens to make better decisions than being left in ignorance, a vital ingredient in democratic life. Through the activity of self-education people could learn more about science and technology, business, government, medicine, and many other subjects.

Canada's essential democratic values in the British North America Act were "peace, order, and good government." Good government conducted in an orderly fashion through public consent was a keystone of political thinking during this period. The idea of common good through the power of popular government buttressed by public support shines through Hallam's Notes. This democratic impulse is similar to the development of Ontario's school system -- the advancement of knowledge and learning in an expanding population and electorate.

Hallam's efforts were rewarded when the Ontario government enacted the Free Libraries Act in 1882, an earlier blog I posted in November 2017. Toronto availed itself of this enabling legislation in January 1883 by a two-thirds majority of eligible votes cast, 5405 to 2862. Of course, in a city of 90,000 population, property or income qualifications excluded many workers from voting in annual municipal elections or on referenda. Not surprisingly, Hallam became the library's first chairperson later in the same year. His friend, John Taylor, followed as chair in 1885.

On 24 December 1881, the satirical magazine, Grip, invoked the spirit of  Christmas on behalf of a free library in Toronto. It commented on a drawing that "Santa Claus shall not fail to bring it in due time," a prediction that proved to be correct.

A short contemporary biography on John Hallam from the mid-1880s is available in George Maclean Rose's Cyclopaedia of Canadian Biography.

John Hallam's Notes by the Way on Free Libraries can be read at the Internet Archive.

The Library, the School and the Child (1917) by John Whitehall Emery

The Library, the School and the Child by J.W. Emery. Toronto: Macmillan Co., 1917. ix, 216 pages, illus. Published version of Emery's Doctor of Pedagogy dissertation at the University of Toronto.

John Whitehall Emery was born in 1871 in New Sarum, a rural community southeast of London, Ont. He went to school locally and graduated from high school at Aylmer Collegiate Institute. Then he taught public school in Elgin County until he entered the University of Toronto in 1893. Shortly after, he recommenced teaching science at high schools in Kemptville and Port Hope for several years before returning to Toronto in 1902-04 to earn his bachelor's degree. He continued teaching, notably at the Stratford Normal School for teachers. He earned his doctorate in 1917 and then resumed work at the teachers' training school. He also was chair and secretary-treasurer of the Stratford Public Library in the early 1920s. He died in London in 1929.

Emery's thesis dealt with two major topics. First, in five chapters he studied the work of public libraries for children as public school pupils and as children. Second, in his following six chapters he treated government efforts in the United States, Canada, and Britain, to provide books for the young through school libraries.

At this time, public library provision of books for schools in the USA was a prominent feature of work at Buffalo, Cleveland, and Newark. The classroom library was the preferred choice and heavily used in these cities, although a branch library in a school was an occasional option. Cooperation on a local level with teachers for a variety of reference, picture collections, and professional texts, etc., also was a common practice. Children's departments and story hours in public libraries were another topic Emery examined and he provided interesting information on subjects such as "home libraries" for students who could share books with friends. Another topic included librarians working in playgrounds where many children who did not normally have access to books were active in the summer months.

Children's work in Canada was less developed. Activity in Canadian public libraries received attention in one chapter and remains a valuable starting point in histories. Emery surveyed pioneering efforts in many cities: Sarnia, Toronto, Ottawa, Victoria, Calgary, Regina, Winnipeg, Westmount, and Saint John to name a few. Emery reveals some interesting statistics, for example, he notes that Winnipeg was circulating 300,000 (!!) books to children in 1915. In his opinion, Victoria "has one of the most advanced children's departments in Canada, and keeps in close touch with the schools as well" (p. 94). This is not surprising because the chief librarian, Helen Gordon Stewart (who Emery does not name) had taught in Manitoba before getting library training in New York in 1908-09 and taking up work in British Columbia.

Two chapters featured the early school libraries (mostly in township school sections) in Ontario under Egerton Ryerson and also the development of district school libraries in the United States. Emery was especially impressed with the contemporary California county system whereby schools could affiliate with the county public library system and participate in the benefits of centralized, professionally trained library services, and coordinated book purchases and distribution. However, this type of service would not develop until after his death, notably in southwestern Ontario counties, in the 1930s. He provides a good survey of current (i.e., post-1900) conditions in Ontario's rural school libraries and even provides illustrations (p. 152) to show the gradual evolution of under the direction of interested teachers.

After 1902, Ontario's provincial government reintroduced small grants (cancelled in 1888) to rural schools in order to encourage library development in 5,000 school sections. However, as Emery notes, public libraries and especially the Ontario Library Association did little to further public library-school library cooperation despite efforts of members such as James P. Hoag, a teacher and school inspector and library promoter, and William F. Moore (OLA President in 1913-14), the Principal of Dundas High School for three decades. There is an informative short chapter on the work of several education departments in other provinces as well.

J.W. Emery's thesis came at an opportune time. In the USA, a School Libraries Section of the American Association of School Librarians was beginning its activities and after the end of WW I the Ontario Department of Education began to take more interest in teacher training in library work. Librarians, such as Jean Merchant at the Normal School in Toronto, and others were being appointed (and trained in library work) as librarians and instructors at normal schools in Ontario. This action can be attributed in part to Emery's thesis completed in 1917. On balance, Emery found the success of school libraries was due in most part to the attentiveness and training of teachers in library work. After surveying teacher training in library methods and the libraries in normal schools (p. 160-173), which were mainly managed by the principal's secretary at each school, he recommended Ontario's normal schools follow American precedents. Emery made a number of suggestions, the most important being (p. 206-208) --
1) to have all students attend a course in library instruction that included reference work, children's literature, and rural school library administration;
2) to permanently engage a regularly qualified librarian with teaching experience for each normal school;
3) to equip each normal school with a model rural school library;
4) to establish in each of the normal schools a collection of fifty or more of the best children's picture books and story books for the very young;
5) to permit normal schools to make small loans of books or pictures to teachers of rural schools in the vicinity.

Of course, not all Emery's suggestions were adopted, but his work formed a basis for more standardized work in bringing library methods to the fore in teacher training. Although his publication was a doctorate, Emery had a pragmatic touch due to his careful survey of library conditions. His work continues to impress a century later. His suggestions for books for rural schools, such as Thompson Seton's Lobo, Rag, and Vixen; Johnny Crow's Garden by Leslie Brooke, the Canada Year Book, or Herrington's Heroines of Canadian History reached a variety of interests and ages in elementary education. Emery's bibliography of school library work is also very useful: he mentions works by early promoters such as Harry Farr in Britain, John Cotton Dana and Frances Jenkins Olcott in the USA that are important for writing the history of school libraries.

Emery's death in 1929 cut short his career before his sixtieth birthday, nonetheless he made a lasting contribution to the development of teacher training for school libraries in Ontario.

Emery's publication is available online at the Internet Archive.