Editorial Journal of Librarianship & Information Science, June 1992.

Libraries at Bursting Point-

There are both advantages and disadvantages to writing editorials for a quarterly journal, compared with other more frequent publications. On the one hand this frequency of publication usually allows one more space to deal with complex issues in depth, but there will also be a lengthy production period which may cause topical arguments or discussions to appear rather dated by the time they appear in print. Thus I am writing these words in mid-February, knowing it will be at least four months later before they are read. In choosing to write about a fairly live issue, I am inevitably taking the risk that there may be further developments, or further discussions, before my contribution to the debate sees the light of day.

Towards the end of 1991 and early in 1992, the author W.J. West created a stir in U.K. library circles with the publication of his book The strange rise of semi-literate England (West, 1991a), and an accompanying article in the Times Literary Supplement (West 1991b). West attacked the stock retention policies of a number of libraries, and in particular the disposal of outdated, little used, or duplicated materials through the second hand book trade. He illustrates his arguments by taking quotations (albeit out of context) from the professional press which appear to show an alarming degree of philistinism amongst some librarian responsible for important collections. His book also contains an appendix listing 273 books from former library collections which the author acquired at relatively low prices on the second hand market.

West's attacks on many librarians may be read in the context of the earlier criticisms by Richard Hoggart of the popularisation of the public library service in Britain and the related decline in the literary standards of the materials stocked (Hoggart 1991). Hoggart is a respected writer on the subject of literacy and has been a stalwart defender of literary and intellectual standards within British society throughout his career. His arguments carry weight and have been widely reported, he was perhaps an obvious choice of reviewer for West's book. However, whilst sharing many of concerns, Hoggart gave his book only a luke-warm review claiming that 'better honed tools' are necessary 'if we are to attack effectively some current disposal practices' (Hoggart 1992).

Inevitably there has also been a good deal of correspondence on subject of West's book in the T.L.S. and the Library Association Record, both from those wishing to point out other collections in danger of dispersal, and also from librarians who have implemented such withdrawal policies. Since the depth and quality of the collections are the most fundamental part of any library service, this issue is at the heart of all discussion of the role of the library and its responsibilities to the community it serves.

One feature of modern librarianship has been the desire to make collections more relevant to the needs of the communities. This concept is laudable, but like many good ideas it can become self defeating, and indeed destructive, if carried too far. It has sometimes been in the name of 'community librarianship' that reserve collections have been sold off, to make way for other facilities. Within Mr West's book there would appear to be instances where such policies have amounted to nothing more than literary vandalism.

However my personal assessment is that W.J. West's study is a superficial polemic rather than a piece of objective research. He is selective in the presentation of evidence and has made little or no attempt really to understand the phenomenon he is describing. He frequently relies on a mixture of rumour and half-truth in his accounts of the motives behind the dispersal of some collections, and does not appear to have consulted anyone directly involved. He may have hit upon one or two instances of library dispersals that are truly scandalous, but these are buried within accounts of withdrawals for perfectly legitimate and understandable reasons.

Yet at the same time he has probably done the library community a service by forcing into the public arena discussion of a most important issue facing British librarians - that of selection and retention policies. He has been so successful in this respect that discussion of library stock management policies has even found its way into the columns of the popular press (Wroe).

I also feel that some of the correspondence on this subject by professional colleagues has been unfortunate in tone and has not significantly furthered the debate on an important issue. In 1990 Bob Duckett wrote two thoughtful articles on what, for most librarians, is the depressing subject of the enforced weeding of reserve collections (Duckett). Some of the correspondence that followed the appearance of these articles was so crass and provocative as to play right into the hands of critics such as W.J. West. Indeed, 'if in doubt chuck it out', the phrase chosen by West as the title for his article in the T.L.S., was taken from one of these letters.

The recognition that academic libraries could not continue to expand indefinitely, and would need to develop policies for the retention or disposal of materials was first made in the Atkinson report in 1976. However it was to be a further decade, and an entirely different political climate, before book retention became a major issue for most British libraries. For many public institutions and services in Britain the 1980s were dominated by the culture of the cost accountant. For the first time librarians were called upon to justify the level of resources devoted to their collections, and in some cases their very existence, this was not merely in abstract terms of the intellectual or social benefits accruing to their communities but according to crude financial criteria. Public librarians, in particular, were forced to take note of issue figures for their stocks, and all library managers had to recognise that the preservation of ever grwoing and little used reserve collections does cost money. It is against this political and economic background that many of the decisions complained of were taken.

Thus by the mid-eighties the issue of library acquisition and retention policies was very much to the fore in all kinds of libraries. The British Library set up its own internal review headed by Brian Enright (Enright), and the question began to feature as part of the wider debate on the preservation of library materials, in the annual seminars organised by the National Preservation Office. For academic libraries this was a period of rigid controls over expenditure on capital projects such as new buildings, which greatly increased the pressures on existing accommodation. However the eighties also saw many mergers of academic institutions and their libraries which did provide opportunities to rationalise duplication of stock and relieve some of this pressure. It was in these circumstances that many of these libraries began to dispose of significant numbers of their little used stock for the first time. Similarly, with the 'balance-sheet mentality' that was so prevalent a feature of Britain in the mid-eighties, many special libraries also began to consider the true cost of retaining large collections.

It is at this point in my editorial that I should declare my special interest in the subject. For during the period 1984/5 I was one of the library managers responsible for implementing a policy of withdrawing in the region of 10,000 books from the BBC Reference Library at housed in the old Langham Hotel in Portland Place. It was the discovery of many of these books in a second-hand bookshop that led Mr West to undertake his study of library dispersals. He also cited it "as a case of a nationally important holding that has been damaged by the loss of a significant number of books"; a collection now "tarnished by these thoughtless acts". It is perhaps worth examining the circumstances behind this dispersal of this collection in more detail.

My colleagues and I did not undertake this course of action willingly, or thoughtlessly, or without consultation of the users of the library. It was forced upon us by a mixture of economic circumstances entirely out of our control and the failure of our predecessors to have an acquisition and retention policy. This is not meant as a criticism of my predecessors, because until that time there had been no need for such a policy, and they had plenty of other more pressing concerns. The lack of such policy statements was a commonplace in U.K. libraries of all kinds at this time.

By the early 1980s the stock of BBC Central Reference Library had grown to around 120,000 volumes, over a period of more than fifty years, and in a rather haphazard way. The library attempted to reflect all subjects of potential interest to BBC programme makers, which effectively meant that there was no limit to the range of subject interest. The collection was made up of deliberate library purchases, numbers of books purchased in connection with the making of specific programmes and subsequently forwarded to the library, and also copies of books sent to the BBC for review but which had never been used for that purpose. The overwhelming majority of the works ultimately withdrawn were either duplicates, superseded editions, or else had not been touched in several decades.

Accommodation for this collection was not an issue until the late 1970s, because the BBC owned premises which contained a number of cellars for which there was no obvious use other than for storage. However by 1980 virtually all the space available had been used and serious thought would have had to be given to a collection management policy. However a more drastic course of action was determined by the BBC's decision to sell The Langham, and to move into cheaper and more efficient accommodation elsewhere. Under the earliest version of the proposals, the Reference Library would have lost three quarters of its space allocation in central London, although gaining space elsewhere remote from the majority of its users.

There followed a period of intensive discussions with both accommodation planners and those departments which made most use of the library. Many of the heaviest users were supportive of our plight but were frequently losing some of their own allocation as part of the proposed changes. Those managers responsible for taking the strategic decisions which resulted in these changes were not philistines who cared nothing for the past, they were rather men faced with difficult decisions and enormous logistical problems to be solved within a short time-scale. At one meeting, however, one frustrated Senior Manager did warn that either the library staff co-operated in reducing the size of the bookstock to the requisite level, or else he would employ removal contractors to do it for us - into a builders skip.

Ultimately a compromise position was reached in which the library staff undertook to withdraw duplicated, outdated, or otherwise unused stock and transfer some parts of the collection to another BBC library in West London. In return, substantially more accommodation than was originally planned was found. It was not a solution that entirely satisfied anybody, but it was the best that could be done in the circumstances. Mr West appears to argue that withdrawing any book from any library damages that collection, and talks of 'the over-riding argument that should have prevented any books being dispersed by the BBC'.

The BBC has always recognised its unique position in the history of British broadcasting, and to that end has retained both a Written Archives Centre, and a substantial collection of printed works relating to the history of British Broadcasting. However the first responsibility, and the reason for the existence, of its library service is to support the needs of contemporary broadcasters. However during my discussions it became progressively more difficult to justify the retention of such a large and underused book stock in some of the most expensive accommodation in the United Kingdom, which was within two miles of the national library.

I am certain that the vast majority of the dispersals from libraries listed in Mr West's book were not due to the rise of a class of librarians who no longer place any value on the books in their charge or who were in some way politically motivated. The withdrawls were rather the results of difficult decisions made by people who cared about the collections in their charge, but who were nevertheless faced with pressing economic or space problems. What is perhaps more worrying is that such library dispersals are continuing to take place in a vacuum, and without any attempts at co-ordination to ensure that copies of significant titles do not merely survive in the national libraries. For all its many faults, Mr West's tendencious study may serve to alert the library community to problems surrounding library dispersals. If it does this it will have been worth publishing.

Bob Duckett, 'Beyond the stacks; book disposal and the librarian's torment', Library Association Record, June 1990, 433-5, and 'From binmen to bibliophiles: book disposal and the enterprise culture', Library Association Record, September 1990, 662-6.

Brian Enright, Selection for survival: a review of acquisition and retention policies, The British Library, 1989.

Richard Hoggart (1982) 'Populism rules - OK?', Library Association Record, January 1992 p.24.

Richard Hoggart (1981) 'A library is not a burger bar', Independent on Sunday, 30 June 1991.

W.J. West (1981) 'If in doubt chuck it out', The Times Literary Supplement, 29, November 1991, p.17.

W.J. West, (1981) The strange rise of semi-literate England, Duckworth, 1991.

Martin Wroe, (1982) 'On the scrap heap', The London Evening Standard, 3 February 1992, p.17.