A HUMAN CAPITAL
by Marylaine Block
My local library, like most public libraries, is undergoing budget cuts, and as a result, staff cuts. One of the ways they're coping is with self-checkout machines. When the machines were first introduced, I think I got a pitch about using them every time I checked books out, until finally I told them, "Look, I work at home, staring into a computer screen for hours at a time. There are some days when the only live, non-electronic conversation I have is with the people at the circulation desk, or the clerks at K-Mart or the grocery stores (which are also offering self-checkout)."
The same is true for a lot of other people, as well, especially retired people, whose social circle starts shrinking as their friends move to Florida or nursing homes, or die. The last thing they want is to be fobbed off with machines, including machines that answer the phones and tell them to select from a menu of choices none of which match what they need to know.
Do you remember when banks were installing automated tellers all over the place while closing branches, and some of them even charged you to speak to a living breathing knowledgeable teller who could answer your questions? That changed when banks' market share began to decline. Bank executives suddenly realized that people don't build relationships with machines, but each conversation with a teller was an opportunity to create new customers and expand the relationship with existing customers. Now, the rapid expansion of new branch banks is an industry phenomenon.
You may think the experience of banks is not relevant to libraries, since they are trying to compete with other banks, while libraries are a kind of natural monopoly. But the fact is, we do have competitors. New players are invading our territory, and satisfying our customers -- and too often, our former customers.
The web offers the automated teller equivalent of information service: fast, impersonal, always available, and free. The big bookstore chains offer an inviting, hip browsing experience, heightened by the smell of scones and good coffee. The online bookstores offer the books you want, as well as music, toys, DVDs, etc., along with reviews and suggestions about other titles you might enjoy. AND they make it possible for us to get all of this without so much as changing out of our jammies.
They're kicking library butt, guys.
Before we can start competing with them, we need to identify the things we are doing better than our competitors, and do more of them. (We also need to advertise the fact that we do those things better, but that's a column for another day.)
As far as information service goes, we're not going to beat the web on speed -- none of us will produce a sheaf of several thousand possible answers in .32 seconds. On the other hand, since librarians are actual humans, who understand what kinds of information are available and where, we're going to attempt to understand what your real question is, and the context for it, we can still save you time. Instead of handing you thousands of pages that might conceivably answer your question, and leaving you to scan through them, we'll try to hand you the ones that actually DO answer your question. We might even teach you a few useful tricks in the process.
Those of us who don't have a nifty new building or spare money for decor probably aren't going to compete on ambience with the big book stores (though we certainly can learn from them about displays that entice customers). But, have you ever tried to get help at one of those places? It's not just that they're not really very knowledgeable; it's also that they don't have the tools at hand to help you find something that's not in the store, not in print, or lacking the correct title or author. A lot of the clerks aren't even dedicated readers who can recommend a book that's right up your alley. And if they can't find what you need or order it for you, they'll apologize and leave it at that. End of transaction. They won't offer to search through alternative sources or get it for you on loan, because once they've ascertained they can't sell you something, any time they spend with you is a waste.
Libraries can't compete with either the net or online bookstores for the get-in-get-out-don't-waste-my-time folks, either, at least not until those systems fail them and they come to us in desperation.
The people we satisfy are the ones who want human interaction -- a mother looking for a book to help her kid who's being teased at school; a newly diagnosed melanoma patient trying to understand her condition and treatment options; sci-fi fans who want to talk about books with other readers; people who want training or a little hand-holding as they venture onto the internet for the first time; teens in need of a parentally-acceptable place to hang out, use the computers, and flirt; isolated people longing for a little casual conversation; groups in need of a place to meet.
That suggests that libraries should make the most of our capacity for human connections, in spite of budget constraints that have us cutting staff. How can we do that?
I would suggest cross-training all library staff so that all of them, no matter what their normal job, can do circulation tasks, help people find the meeting rooms, and provide basic assistance with computers, printers, the online catalog, and copy machines.
When I say ALL staff, incidentally, I include even the library director. That's because this solution would do more than maximize human interactions. It would also give everybody a chance to meet the public they're serving, many of whom never approach the reference desk, and to hear their questions, suggestions, and complaints.
The people at the circ desk are the first to know if the library needs more copies of the new Dan Brown book, better signage, more computers so people don't have to wait so long, better sound baffling for the children's room, more Christian romances, cleaner bathrooms, a better-lit parking lot, and more restrictions on what kids can check out. The circulation desk is also where most of our customers first come in contact with our rules, so time spent there is an opportunity to find out exactly what our customers think of them. By giving courteous attention to their requests, and by fixing the problems whenever possible, we make our users feel valued.
There's no doubt that the financial condition of libraries is challenging right now. But I don't think we can afford to respond by giving away our chief competitive edge: the human touch.
* * * * *
COOL QUOTE:
You may have noticed that Web classification has the feel of a universe sorted by bulldozers and the Shopping Channel. Writers searching the Web for deep background often face two jobs: first, to organize the chaos of thousands of vastly uneven and questionable citations; then, to do the research. At the library, the organization part has been done, carried out by skilled, user-oriented minds, not "spider bots," those robot-like programs that search the Web for data.
Arthur Plotnik. "Who Loves You Like the Library?" The Writer, November, 2003
* * *
You are welcome to copy and forward any of my own articles for noncommercial purposes (but not those by my guest writers) as long as you retain this copyright statement:
Ex Libris: an E-Zine for Librarians and Other Information Junkies.
http://marylaine.com/exlibris/
Copyright, Marylaine Block, 1999-2004.
[Publishers may license the content for a reasonable fee.]
Please do NOT copy and post my articles to your own web sites, however. Instead, please copy a brief excerpt and link to my site for the remainder of the article.
