Cormack, 'Information Future [Imagineers in Miami]', LITA Newsletter v15n04 URL = ftp://dewey.lib.ncsu.edu/stacks/serials/lita/lita-v15n04-cormack-information V15N4.INFUTURE LITANEWS ----------------------- The Information Future [Imagineers in Miami] Barbara Cormack Librarians and other ALA attendees who double as science fiction enthusiasts got relief from the heat and a glimpse into the information future at the Imagineers' program during this year's Annual Conference. Milton Wolf introduced the featured speakers, Gene Wolfe and Greg Bear, as two "titans of the imagination." Both are highly acclaimed authors of speculative fiction. Milton also extended thanks to Tom Doherty, President of Tor Books, for providing free copies of the speakers' books at the program. The lucky ones who quickly mobbed the head table received Wolfe's newest, Lake of the Long Sun and Bear's Eon. Perhaps they will serve to remind us of the remarkable variety of ideas and concepts casually tossed out by the guest speakers in the course of this program. What follows is a summary of impressions of some of the more memorable themes and issues that laced their presentations. Libraries in the Information Superhighway: Reststops or Roadkill Gene Wolfe began his witty and rather wry talk by stating that "we're going to talk technology," then going on to remark that he knows little of the information superhighway. He feels that a number of current trends are against librarians, thus his title. Wolfe contrasted the nineteenth-century development of the free public library as part of a national educational program with what he perceives as the current idea that it is society's duty to adapt to the lowest common denominator, resulting in ignorance. "We're reinventing hieroglyphics," he stated, citing faucets that are colored blue and red, not marked cold and hot, and the use of pictographs to denote cigarette lighters and hood releases in cars. Are these the signs along the information superhighway, he wondered. Wolfe further observed that education was once a privilege, but now it is considered a chore by many. Does the proliferation of such signs as those above indicate a diminishing need for reading skills? Returning to the image of highways, he remarked that they're great if you have a vehicle; otherwise you'll be left behind. What about the fact that much of the data on this highway will be falsified or filtered? Wolfe went on to say that he is not a technophobe and recalled his early days in computer programming, a field he left in 1972. His comments on computers: they're wonderful machines, but it's easy to mislead them, or use them ineffectively. They can't tell you where things are--for that, you can go directly to the librarian. It's always comforting to hear someone you esteem reinforcing the need for your chosen profession, and Wolfe certainly did that for this gathering. To get access, he says, you need the librarian (that's where the reststop vs. roadkill part comes in). What, Wolfe asked, are people using PCs for? Relevant things? Sure, people play games, send e-mail and write more, but is this significant activity? He finds himself fascinated with its lack of relevance. On the reststop side of the issue, Wolfe had positive comments on the ease of information retrieval and the infohighway's connectivity. We, the librarians, can be (no, he corrected himself, we are) the greyhounds on the superhighway, but libraries will no longer be the exclusive halls of learning they once were. The Machineries of Joy The pressure to adjust to the rapidly changing information environment emerged as Greg Bear picked up the discussion. Bear opened his remarks by mentioning that although he usually speaks extemporaneously, he wanted to refer to an article he had written some eleven years ago but which went unpublished. Originally intended for Omni magazine, it was called "The Machineries of Joy." Bear was pleased that the piece had held up rather well over the years and recalled being struck by the importance of the "visual typewriter." He characterized himself as a book person who owns about 18,000 volumes. What would future books be like, what would they look like and how would they entertain, he wondered? (Of the last, he suspects poorly.) Referring back to his article, he discussed a couple of factors, that of a trend toward shared universes and franchised fiction, and the unanticipated development of interactive media. Books do not appeal to everyone, he continued; only about 30 percent of Americans read regularly, so clearly the majority of people are not text-oriented. Bear went on to discuss the growing importance of media and the current interest in their unification (e.g., video and motion picture). He believes the software companies have preeminence over the media companies, which in turn have more clout than publishing companies. In relation to this he described how stop-motion animation has been outclassed by software to animate living things. For example, in the making of films such as Jurassic Park, there was little room for stop-motion animators (and consequently a loss of jobs), but the computer nerds, who were producing computerized animation, lacked an understanding of how to make the animals move around and "dance" (as he put it). Consequently, the stop-motion animators were rehired. How does this relate to future fiction, you may ask? Remember the interactive part, says Bear, and consider books that might have three levels of modules--world, character or story--depending on the level at which you wish to participate. What will this do to sales? We'll be paying for the rights to electronic formats--the popularity of, for example, the Star Trek universe (not to mention its extremely devoted fandom) might lead to the development of this future interactive fiction. Material could then be uploaded to the Net (Bear called it the "Information Goatpath") and people could begin to participate in its creation. But the things to keep in mind, according to Bear, is that text is already interactive. That is, people buy into it. You need the writer's mind, and what he or she puts into it. The uncertainties of the evolution of text and the publishing industry must inevitably affect the perspective of those whose livelihood depends on sales of the written (printed?) word. Science fiction writers, no less than the rest of us, are contending with the conflicts inherent in the current information "present." We may not see our way clearly each step of the way, but move forward and adapt we must, or face the prospect of being left behind in a cloud of pixels, paper and packets. What does it all mean for librarians? No more freebies, says Bear. Downloaded electronic copies will cost; they're not analogous to loans. Unless of course the authors' works are public domain, an unlikely scenario. Interactive fiction, music, physics, "chara-oke" (you portray a character, and include all your friends), and "potato-heading" (make up your own character, and don't confine yourself to the physical) are all part of the slightly bizarre information future Bear envisions. Comments Like the movie Blade Runner, the authors' visions of the information future are slightly grimy, a little jaundiced, even grim. Who in the audience doesn't worry about "dumbing down"? Can it really be true that only 30 percent of Americans regularly read? How super is the information superhighway going to be, and are librarians going to be directing traffic? There are, of course, no clearcut answers, nor are there hard and fast definitions of the librarian's role in The Information Future. What's a new M.L.S. to do? Me, I'm going to fasten my seatbelt, load the hovercar with guidebooks and my friends (electronic and otherwise), and, like Deckard and Rachel, head out there. Barbara Cormack is Staff Assistant for the State University of New York's Library Automation Implementation Program in Albany, NY.