Let’s all take a second to celebrate the open-source software movement. As a long-time user of tools like Linux, I have always been a fan. What’s not to love? We all want software tools that are free and available to all. However, over the past month I have discovered a new appreciation for the open-source movement as a teaching tool. In combination with web development I’m doing in library school, I’ve learned the benefits of open-source software far exceeds the product itself; the benefit is in the process of taking the product apart.

Over the past month, I have implemented two open-source software solutions at the Pitts Theology Library. Both products have solved real needs in the library, working as well as commercially-available comparable products, and both cost absolutely nothing (other than my development time). They both, therefore, fit what I previously loved about open-source tools (free and available). What I have found most significant in working with these tools, though, is the learning opportunity that the complex implementation of each presented. Both have required significant modification to fit the library’s needs, and so with both I have had the opportunity to develop new skills during implementation. In working with these tools, I’ve learned that perhaps the best part of open-source software is the learning opportunity available with a tool that allows you to take it apart and put it back together.

The first tool is OpenRoom, room booking software developed by Ball State University Libraries. This application, developed using PHP and and MySQL, is a well-written (though a bit dated) application that allows users to book rooms for specific periods of time. The tool is falling out of support by Ball State, and I’m considering releasing my own version on GitHub (with the blessing of Ball State, of course). The second is Xibo, open-source digital signage software, also developed with PHP and MySQL. At my library, we are using both for important functions at the library. OpenRoom is the application we use to allow students to book small group study rooms in our library. Xibo is driving our digital display, a welcome screen at the front of the library which displays policies, events, and photos.

Not only have these tools filled much-needed functions in my new library (they have). Both have been great teaching tools and allowed me to see how much more “IT fluent” I have become. The beauty of open-source tools is, of course, that they are open source. That is, if i you want to do something, you can figure out a way to do it. This was perfect for our needs at the library, as neither fit our requirements “out of the box.” With a little bit of coding knowledge and a lot of intellectual curiosity, I was able to redevelop each tool to do what we needed it to do. So, for example, when I was underwhelmed by the built-in modules on Xibo, I was able to develop my own clock module, using our display sign to keep time in the library. Likewise, I modified the OpenRoom tool to use Emory’s Shibboleth, single sign on application, so users would not have to remember another username and password. In conjunction with some work I’m doing in library school, I’ve been able to develop new skills in JQuery, AJAX, and CSS, while sharpening previous abilities with SQL and server-side scripting. The products I’ve implemented help the library run more efficiently. But the process of the implementation has been quite the learning experience for me, and it will make me work much more efficiently in the future.

We talk a lot in the library world about “IT fluency.” Typically this phrase is used to indicate some level of gadget wizardry. That is, the IT fluent person is the person who knows how to do the most stuff with the most tools. You could say that through these projects and other work I’m doing in library school, I have become more “fluent” in the sense that I’m better at making asynchronous Javascript calls, or joining two tables in a database, or designing a page with style sheets. Working with open-source software, though, I’d argue I’ve become more “fluent” in the much more important sense of recognizing that you can make software do what you want it to do. No longer am I limited to what the commercially-available products allow me to do. Rather, these projects have given me reassurance that I have the skills (or I can find someone who does) to make software do what I need it to do. This reassurance has become clear to me in another recent implementation I have done, using a commercially-available, closed-source product. I’m not able to change the way the application works, and because I’ve had the experience of doing that, I realize how frustrating it can be. The real “IT Fluency” gained in my work over the last year is not skills, per se, but a recognition that with a little bit of know-how, I can make software do what I need it to do.

So, let me recommend these two tools to anyone working in library-type jobs. Both OpenRoom and Xibo are wonderful products (and again, they’re free). However, let me recommend them also because they allow someone to play, to work with well-written applications, see how they work, and then make the changes that one wants or needs. I get asked quite often how best to learn software development skills. There are great places to do this in a more formal way, like CodeAcademy or the Khan Academy. Personally, though, I’d recommend the “take something apart” model of learning, and open-source software provides a great opportunity. All of us nerds remember how effective this was when we took apart our electronic toys. We learned what a circuit board looked like or how a motor turned by ripping things apart (though they didn’t always go back together). With open-source software, we can do that, but in a far less destructive way. In the last month, I’ve become more “fluent” because I’ve become more emboldened to tear down and build back up (see, there’s some Biblical language).

I have been reading William Deresiewicz’s new bestselling book Excellent Sheep (Free Press, 2014), which I highly recommend, and it has gotten me thinking about the way we assess the value of institutions. Early in the book, Deresiewicz tells the story of the gaining influence of the US News & World Report rankings in Higher Education. Despite strong protests from administrators at the time (the early to mid 1980s), the rankings quickly became the method by which institutions were judged and compared with one another. The situation has almost become laughable, as institutions work hard to advance in areas weighted heavily by these rankings, often “cooking the books” in certain categories to receive a higher ranking, which is often accompanied by higher application rates and a higher quality (in terms set by the US News & World Report rankings) student population, and the cycle perpetuations itself. One need look no further than the recent, embarrassing situation at my own institution to see how out of control this has gotten. These problems of the pressure to adhere to somewhat arbitrary assessment standards are not unique to higher education, a point well made in Cathy Davidson’s book Now You See It (Penguin, 2012). Davidson points out that the SAT and universal assessments in public education have had a similar effect, prompting institutions and individuals to teach and learn for the test. Improving achievement of somewhat-arbitrary standards becomes the primary motivation and guide in curriculum design and instruction, and institutions are often guilty of “cooking the books” to improve their performance in these assessment categories. Once again, the criticism of assessment-motivated-cheating hits a little close to home. As a society in general, and particularly as educators and administrators, we have become obsessed with assessment, seeking ways to improve our position in whatever rankings are held as authoritative for our field.

What does any of this have to do with me? (Good question). I have recently found myself considering assessment and rankings as I give tours of our new library facilities (Pitts Theology Library, new location opened last month). In guiding people around our new building, I am often asked where Pitts ranks in terms of the top theology libraries in the US, North America, or the world. And to be honest with you, I never have a very good answer, though I am beginning to become bolder in my claims about Pitts’ relative value. Frequently Pitts has been referred to as the second or third largest theological library in North America. This, it would seem, is a rather straightforward and objective way of comparing libraries. Count up all of the books, and the one with the most books wins. This is a very common way of comparing academic libraries. But I would argue this is not a very effective way of comparing libraries. Emphasis on the size of the collection would seem to create pressures toward un-curated collecting, and it would seem to favor those institutions with the highest acquisitions budgets. What is more, the digital age and globalization have ushered in an era of libraries focusing on specialization and collaboration. It makes very little sense for everyone to rush to acquire every book when borrowing a book outside of the scope of a given library is an ILL or consortial agreement request away. Furthermore, the move toward Open Access and digital libraries suggest that a criterion based on a model of individual institutional ownership might not be best way to judge a library’s value. You could make the argument that Google is the world’s largest library, not because they own the most books, but because they can provide access to the most books.

I would hope that we’re moving away from this judgment of value of a library based on holdings. Though the size of a collection is certainly important, it cannot be the sole criterion for assessing a given institution or comparing multiple institutions. This past summer, as our collection was moving from our previous location to the new building, I had the odd experience of serving as a librarian in a library that had no books. For a few weeks, our shelves were empty (though patrons had access to materials; it just took a few days!). And yet, even without books, I would argue that we continued to function as one of the top theological libraries in North America. How so? I could make this argument because we continued to support patron research. We did this because of our superior staff and our facilities. The research of those at Candler, at Emory, and across the world who came to us (virtually or in person) continued to thrive. And this, I would say, is the real measuring stick of any academic library. How effectively does the library support its patrons? It may do this by providing books (the traditional measure), but in our case we do this through research consultations, through digital resources, through instructional sessions, through quiet study spaces, etc. So, in the end, the real judgment of the value of a library is an indirect one. That is, my library is only as good as the research that we create and we support. This involves providing books, for sure. But it involves far more than this. The books are of little value if they are not properly catalogued, if patrons cannot check them out, if patrons don’t have spaces to read them, if patrons don’t have research libraries to consult with about reading them, etc.

So, I am going to continue, as I did today, to advertise that Pitts Theology Library is one of the top theological libraries in North America. I feel confident in making this assertion not because we have one of the largest collections of theological materials (though we do), but because we have the staff and the facilities to support work that draws upon that collection and all the collections around the world we have access to. What about you? How do you assess the value of your library? Deresiewicz and Davidson encourage us to be a bit more creative in our assessments of value (of institutions and students, respectively). I hope, likewise, we can be more thoughtful about our assessments of the value of individual libraries.