Chapter VII: Part 7

My attention was drawn to the necessity of a more systematic plan of service in the New York Free Circulating Library on assuming charge in 1895. The library had been hampered by insufficiency of funds and had been obliged to supplement assistants of ability and experience with others who had been employed simply because they could be obtained at low salaries. Promotion, where it was distinctly indicated, was for merit, ascertained simply by the librarian’s opinion; and salary increases were made very largely for length of service. An effort was made at the outset to regulate admission to the force and advancement within it. The features of examination and of grades distinguished by letters were borrowed from the Boston Public Library. A department head, who had been giving private instruction, had by the board’s permission placed some of her pupils in the library for practice work. This seemed an excellent opportunity to train future assistants; so the private class was turned into a library training class and the pupils into apprentices, their teacher being retained as such and properly compensated. The library force was divided into three grades, A, B and C; to which a fourth, D was afterwards added. The first two were indicated by the fact that the library consisted of six coordinate branches, each with its librarian-in-charge and her first assistant. All the former were graded as A and the latter as B. Class A thus necessarily became limited in number, depending on the number of branches, and B would have been similarly limited if it had not been made to include also all the high-grade assistants--all capable of assignment at any time to the work of a deputy librarian of a branch. Class C was then a remainder class, including all other members of the library staff. It soon appeared, however, that the line of demarkation between those members of Class B who were first assistant librarians and those who were not was much more distinct than that between B and C. B was accordingly limited to first assistants; the remnant was called C, and the old C became D. The old feeling that seniority should be considered was deferred to by arranging for automatic increases of salary within the grades at specified intervals. Janitors and messengers remained quite outside this arrangement.

It was provided that no one should be promoted from grade to grade without the passage of an examination; but that passage simply placed the successful candidate on a list of eligibles, and promotion from this list was made by considering personal fitness, character of work and immediate conditions. Qualifications for the different grades differed, but in quantity and advancement, rather than in quality, all coming under the heads of literature, language, general information and library economy.

This plan was formulated in consultation with the library committee, and was adopted as part of the rules of the library by the board. The committee differed somewhat on the seniority increases within grades, which were finally retained, and considered it of great importance to emphasize work and personal fitness. Methods of including marks for these in the final standing of the candidate were considered, but the difficulty of doing so led to the adoption of the plan as stated.

It was decided to give every member of the staff the right to demand an examination for promotion on the expiration of three years’ service in one grade, and to admit others by special order. Advancement proved to be necessarily so rapid, however, that no one who had any chance of passing the examination ever remained three years in a grade, and this clause proved practically inoperative.

Of course, many passed and were placed on the eligible list for promotion who had no chance of advancement for reasons connected with work or personality. This caused dissatisfaction which it was sought to mitigate by recognizing presence on the eligible list by increase of salary to the grade limit, provided this had not been already attained. Even so, however, it continued to exist.

The alternative was considered of examining only those selected for promotion and of making promotion conditional on the passage of such examination, but was rejected, although a perfectly possible and logical plan. But objectionable in many ways as all examinations are, they foster a feeling that everyone is having a chance, and previous selection, no matter how good, is open to the same objection as the selection alone would be, without any test at all.

It would also have been possible to make the examination competitive, placing the names on the list in the order of passage and promoting in that order, or grading the names in order of seniority, as in most city systems. But both these plans are open to obvious objections, and I still think it best to form an eligible list whose names shall not be considered in any order at all, the appointing officer being quite free to make his choice among them.

The application of this system of grading to the staff, as it existed, involved discrimination at only one point--that separating Classes B and C, or as renamed later, C and D. The line was drawn partly on the basis of the salary list as it stood, and partly by duties, and there was little dissatisfaction.

I have said that this system was formally adopted by the board. This is not necessary, nor is it the best plan. A system of this kind is best regarded simply as an aid to the librarian in making recommendations for appointment or promotion. In making such recommendation, the librarian must, of course, satisfy himself that his candidates are fit, and it is proper that he should adopt any system that commends itself to him for ascertaining that they are so. The board is, of course, the final authority. It could override any system that it might adopt, just as easily as it could go over the head of the librarian’s recommendation; and it is better for its own dignity that a departure from the system should take the latter form, rather than the former.

I regard it as quite sufficient, therefore, when a librarian grades his staff, that he should simply report to his board that he is about to make certain dispositions and require certain tests to aid him in making proper recommendations for appointment and promotion, and that his recommendations in future will be guided by these arrangements. The authority of the board and its ability to reject his recommendations have not been touched, and its disposition to trust him and accept his advice will be surely increased as it sees that he is adopting plans to improve that advice and give it force.

This grading of the New York Free Circulating staff has been dwelt on at length, although very simple, because it formed the basis of the other gradings, now to be described.

The application of a similar system to the staff of the Brooklyn Public Library took place early in 1899, at a time when, owing to a crisis in the affairs of the library, it had temporarily ceased to do work. It had only four library assistants, and yet the probabilities were strongly in favor of an immediate and rapid expansion, such as actually did take place not long after. Expediency, therefore, pointed to the organization of the staff on the supposition that it would soon be of considerable size.

The grading was precisely similar to that just described, except that Classes C and D were combined and called Class C, and the letter D was used to designate members of the training class. The principal interest in the scheme as then adopted lies in its relations with the city civil service. The New York Free Circulating Library was a private institution, charitable in its origin, but broadening rapidly out into real public work. It had no relations with the city, except to apply annually for its subsidy and receipt for the monthly instalments thereof as paid over. There could be no question therefore of city civil service jurisdiction. The case in Brooklyn was different. The members of the Board were appointed by the Mayor, and the library was recognized as a city institution, although exactly what this meant had not yet been definitely determined. The scheme of service was adopted at first on the supposition that the board was to be as free in the matter as though it had been an entirely independent body. The question might never have arisen, but was precipitated by the city auditor’s holding up the payroll on the ground that it had not been certified by the municipal Civil Service Commission. The question went at once to the Corporation Counsel for an opinion, and after he had decided that the city civil service regulations covered the library force, there was a further dispute with the state Civil Service Commission, exacerbated by a difference in political complexion between the two bodies. This held up the payroll for some time, and did not tend to reconcile any member of the staff to its new status. Matters having been settled, the commission promptly certified the payroll as it stood, in order to terminate the embarrassing situation, and then ensued a series of conferences with the librarian on permanent grading. It was decided that the librarian and assistant librarian fell within the exempt class, and that other members of the staff could be divided into senior and junior assistants, the latter including only members of the training class until properly appointed to permanent positions. Whatever grading the library might choose to make within the senior assistant class (A, B and C) was therefore its own affair, the commission taking cognizance of it only so far as it involved increase of salary. The point of conflict came at entrance to Class C, or on appointment to permanent position in the library. The commission at first insisted that it should make its own eligible list, graded in accordance with its own examinations, although it agreed to admit no others except members of the training class to such examinations. At least one examination of the kind was held, the questions evidently being written by some outside librarian on general principles, and with little reference to our needs and conditions. Ultimately, however, the commission agreed to let us hold the examinations and to accept our rating, although, when the eligible list had once been formed, we were bound by it rigidly. In regard to persons outside our graded force, such as janitors and messengers, we were held strictly to civil service rules, selecting our men from the first three on the list submitted to us by the commission. An unsatisfactory person could be summarily rejected after trial for a specified period, and as many such were on the list, there was rapid rotation in office in this part of the force. In the graded staff, also, although it might seem that the commission had almost abdicated its powers in our favor, we felt the restriction that bound us to select from the top of the list. Even though we had originally made the ratings, it often happened that for the particular vacancy in question the sixth name might be that of the best-qualified person, and we had the disagreeable alternative of taking one who was not our first choice, or of appointing on trial and rejecting until the proper name had been reached--a process much in vogue in city departments, but tiresome to the appointing authority and ignominious to those who were thus rejected and who might be better qualified than the person desired for another kind of position.

In 1901 the New York Free Circulating Library became the Circulation Department of the New York Public Library, under circumstances that gave it a separate governing body, responsible to the trustees of the Public Library, and a separate staff, whose organization was not necessarily the same as that of the reference staff. The annexed staff, of course, brought its own organization with it, and this, with some modifications, became that of the present Circulation Department. The principal changes were the limitation of Class C to three times the number of branch libraries and the almost total abolition of salary increases for length of service within grades. The former prevented unlimited promotion from D to C, and made necessary a selection from the waiting list to fill actual vacancies, and the latter, while not doing away with a difference of salaries in the same grade, made it possible to give the increases as a reward for good work. The designation of the grades by letters was objected to by some members of the board, on the ground that it meant nothing, so that alternative names were adopted for C, D and E, the two upper grades having already the names of librarian-in-charge and first assistant. Members of C were named second assistant librarians; D, assistants, and E, attendants.

When the Free Circulating Library grading was made, there were neither children’s rooms nor children’s librarians in New York, and very few anywhere. The former arose first and were served by persons assigned for the purpose, usually from Grade C. The organization, later, of a separate children’s department, with jurisdiction over all children’s rooms, made it necessary to place children’s librarians in a separate class; but that they might not feel “out of the running” for branch librarianships, they were allowed to take examinations and advance from one regular grade to another, in addition, if they so desired. Catalogers were still graded regularly, however, although these might have been easily treated in a similar way. The special nature of their work, however, was recognized by a variation in the examination. The test for the children’s grade was not an examination, but a series of periods of practical work in selected branch libraries, with observation and report and a final thesis. Candidates were specially selected by the supervisor of children’s work, and so jealously has entrance into this grade been guarded that even now not more than half of the forty or more assistants in charge of New York’s children’s rooms are members of it.

In later years a thesis also has formed part of the examination for Class A. This is written on an assigned subject, and the successful ones are sometimes, although not always, printed.

One of the difficulties connected with the grading in the Circulation Department of the New York Public library was the assignment to proper grades of the staffs of the different institutions that consolidated with that library from time to time. There were altogether about half a dozen of these, with staffs varying in number perhaps from five to forty or fifty persons. It was decided to leave the assignment entirely to the authorities of these libraries, who practically graded their staffs on a plan corresponding with ours before consolidation, so that there was no change of grade afterward. The responsibility was thus thrown upon bodies of men with whose authority the new staffs were familiar and which they would be inclined to accept. The assignments were made with varying degrees of care and validity, but were, on the whole, just, and there was little complaint with them. Too low an assignment was corrected by the next examinations for promotion, and a person graded too high never at all events, rose any higher. The smoothness with which these consolidations took place, even sometimes against the will and with the dismal foreboding of the dispossessed authorities, and the rapidity with which the entire staff became homogeneous, both in feeling and in quality of work, are sufficient justification of this particular policy, which was typical of that of the library in regard to other features of these consolidations.

In the year 1910 it was decided to grade the staff of the St. Louis Public Library. The principal differences between the problem here and that in the cases that have been described depended on the fact that this was an old library, with a comparatively large staff, having traditions of its own and justly proud of its achievements and of its library reputation. There had even been a feeling, at some time in the past, on the part of some members of the board, that a graded staff was not a good thing, as it would hamper freedom of control. The staff, however, had reached such a size that some kind of classification appeared inevitable, and the proper method of handling it seemed to be that indicated above as preferable, namely, as purely an administrative matter under the librarian’s control, to aid him in making recommendations for appointment, promotion and increase of salary. This was explained to the board, and there being no objection, a notice was at once inserted in _Staff Notes_, the medium of communication between the librarian and the staff, that the force would be shortly divided into grades, “the object being to represent definitely the exact position occupied by each one, and to fix the maximum salary belonging to each grade.” There was some additional preliminary explanation and a request for suggestions and opinions. After a lapse of about six months, during which the plan became familiar to all by discussion, both informal and in the weekly meetings of the heads of departments, the grading was announced by the publication in _Staff Notes_ of the principles on which it had been made, with explanations in considerable detail. The names of those assigned to the different grades were not given, but each member of the staff was notified separately of his own grading, unless this was obvious from the published explanation, as in case of branch librarians. It was announced that the grading was not an act of the Board, but “simply a schedule expressing the formal manner in which ... recommendations will hereafter be made to the board.”

This scheme was more thoroughgoing than any of those previously noted, in that it provided a place and designation for everyone in the library’s employ. The force was divided into three sections--regular grades, special grades and ungraded occupations. The former were classified practically as in New York; the special grades were made to include catalogers and children’s librarians, with any special positions of enough importance to be placed there; the “ungraded occupations” were those of janitors and their assistants, messengers, elevator men, binders and other miscellaneous employees. In the regular grades A and B were limited, and while C and D were not formally so, it was announced that they would not be indefinitely increased. It was provided that those in special grades might qualify also for regular grades and might also be transferred thereto if desired.

In assignment of members of the staff to grades, existing conditions were recognized as far as possible, with no immediate attempt to remedy faults that might exist therein. Statement was made that all persons who might consider themselves wrongly graded would have early opportunity to show their fitness for the grade above, either in the regular way or in some other, if it could be devised. It was stated that the qualifications that would gain the librarian’s recommendation for promotion from grade to grade (which, it will be remembered, consists merely in an increase of salary, so far as the board takes cognizance thereof) would in general be of three kinds--educational, to be ascertained by certificate or diploma, or failing these, by examination; special, to be ascertained in some cases by examination, in others by mail, in others by certified experience; and personal, to be ascertained by personal knowledge.

In connection with the scheme, the training class was much extended in scope and its course broadened and made to cover an educational year.

Here, as in New York, the scheme is entirely distinct from the municipal civil service, but for a different reason. In New York the library is a private institution, occupying city property and doing public work by provision of a contract which does not provide for extension of the city civil-service rules over the library force; in St. Louis, the merit system has not been introduced at all among city employees. Should it be introduced in the future, and should it be decided that the members of the library staff are strictly employees of the city, we might have here the Brooklyn experience over again, as detailed above. For purely selfish reasons, therefore, the St. Louis Public Library should be well satisfied with the _status quo_.

In concluding, it may be well to call attention again to the fact that such schemes as these are designed to aid an appointing body or officer, not to control him. They would be of little value to a municipality desiring to limit a political mayor’s power for evil, or to a mayor wishing to keep his board of library trustees within bounds, or to a board anxious to curb its librarian’s propensity to appoint personal favorites. Such a plan pre-supposes that appointment and promotion for the good of the service are desired, and it serves to bring this about so far as it may. A board, or a librarian, could depart from it or violate its provisions in a dozen ways. What, then, is the use of it? In a small staff, it has no uses. It would be as silly to grade such a staff and make rules for its promotion as it would be for a housekeeper with a cook and one maid to call the former Class A and the latter Class B, and draw up rules for their appointment and promotion. But as soon as the size of the staff exceeds that at which the officer in charge can know each member and her work with intimate personal knowledge, then something of the kind becomes imperative. The members of such a staff are better satisfied that they are being treated with uniform justice, and that merit is properly recognized, if it is done in some systematic way like this, and the officer on whose recommendation appointments and promotions are made runs much less risk of making mistakes. Every librarian should, I believe, examine himself to make sure that his present scheme of service, whatever it may be, is sufficient for these purposes and adapted to secure their attainment smoothly and satisfactorily.

EFFICIENCY RECORDS IN LIBRARIES

In the foregoing article the present writer gave the result of his experience in formulating and establishing systems of service in four large libraries, and, incidentally, stated his conclusion that such systems should always remain in the control of the library authorities.

While the plans therein described work satisfactorily from an inside standpoint, they are defective in one particular--that of complete record. This is most important in case of investigation by competent authority. While direct control of a library service system by an outside body, such as a municipal or other civil service board, is objectionable, there can certainly be no objection to the requirement, by municipal charter or state law, that the library service be organized and operated on the merit system, which requirement presupposes occasional inquiry to ascertain whether, and in what degree and form, this is the case. Now, in the event of such investigation, it will usually be easy to produce the records of examinations, with marked papers, tabulated marks, and the action based thereon. When it comes to personality and efficiency, such records are not easy to get. Even where libraries assign marks in these subjects and combine them with the results of the written tests to obtain a final mark on which promotion is based, there is nothing to show how the marks were obtained, and the investigating authority might not unnaturally conclude that here was an opportunity to nullify the merit system. Evidently all data on which appointment or promotion is based should be matters of record, otherwise a perfectly well-ordered merit system cannot be demonstrated to be such to one who has a right to know; and, of course, in the last analysis, every citizen has this right in the case of a public institution.

What appeared to be needed was some regular report on the efficiency of every employee, which should be taken into account in assigning marks or in some other way, in making promotions, made in such permanent form that it could be filed as a record. Such reports are, of course, constantly made orally and acted upon, without any record being preserved. They are occasionally made in recordable form, perhaps most often in the case of apprentices or members of training classes. In some cases derelictions or unfavorable reports alone have been recorded, but a complete report on personality and work made regularly and filed permanently is a thing that has not come under my observation, although, of course, it may exist.

Having decided to adopt some such form of report in the St. Louis Public Library, the librarian laid the matter before the weekly conference of department heads and branch librarians. Had the question been the advisability of the adoption of such a form, the sentiment of the meeting would probably have been against it, but the announcement was simply that the librarian had decided to require regularly thereafter, in shape suitable for filing, information regarding the efficiency of assistants that had hitherto been received irregularly and by word of mouth. A staff committee was appointed to draft a form of report, and the reports of progress of this committee, with the incidental discussions and conferences, occupied nearly a year, during which time everyone on the staff became thoroughly familiar with the plan and either agreed with the librarian regarding its advisability or had some reasonable and well-considered ground of opposition.

The librarian had in mind a short form, containing a few important data. The committee brought in a long one--somewhat longer than that finally adopted, which is given below. Their reason, as stated, was that it is easier to answer a large number of questions that require hardly more than the words “yes” and “no” in reply than a few, each of which calls for the writing of an essay, however brief. This reason appealed to all and finally prevailed. It means practically the presentation of the information required, ready-made, and its adoption or rejection by the person making the report. Discussion in the meeting was chiefly on the more personal items of information, such as those about neatness of dress, etc.; also about others whose propriety or clearness was questioned, such as that regarding loyalty to the library. Some of these were finally stricken out, but most were retained. It was also noted that in many cases the information asked for could not ordinarily be obtained. A department head, for instance, may be intimate enough with one of her assistants to know whether she has a real appreciation for literature, but in most instances this would not be the case. Many such questions were retained on the ground that answers, if possible, would be of value, and, if not, could simply be omitted.

After the forms had thus been put into shape they were duplicated and a copy was given to each department head, with instructions to show it to all her assistants, discuss it with them and report at the next meeting. The reports showed that the reception of the form had depended chiefly on the department head, either through manner of presentation or through personal influence. In some departments the plan seemed to be viewed with equanimity, while in others there was a considerable amount of suspicion, distrust and dislike of the whole scheme. It was next announced that anyone on the staff desiring to discuss the matter with a librarian would be given an opportunity to do so at a specified meeting. This was well attended, and it appeared that much of the feeling was due to misunderstanding. It was explained that no new method of making promotions was contemplated, and that personality and efficiency would be taken into account neither more nor less than before, but that the reports from which the librarian derived his information on these points would be required in writing, thus safeguarding both the appointing officer and the appointees. There seemed to be a strong feeling on the part of some that personal feeling might actuate some department head to make a false report, and that while, of course, such report might be made even more effectively if rendered orally, it would be a pity to have it permanently on record. There was no answer to this except that the likelihood of such a misleading report would probably become known to the librarian, who could reject or modify it.

In due course of time, a sufficient number of blanks were distributed, filled and handed in. They were then discussed again at a meeting, and questions that had come up in the practical rendition of the reports were brought up and settled. A filled report regarding the work of every classified assistant in this library is now on file in the librarian’s office.

The conditions under which these reports are made and held are as follows:

Every question must be answered or the reason for not doing so must be stated.

The reports are to be made out regularly on the first of each year, or oftener at the librarian’s request. Each is accessible only to the librarian, to the reporting officer and to the assistant reported on, except when a transfer is to be made, when the head of the department to which the assistant is to be transferred may also consult the record.

Since the reports were made out only about half a dozen assistants have requested to be shown their records. Some others were allowed to see them before they were handed in. Such excitement as there was regarding the matter has now abated, and the matter has been relegated to its proper plane in the scheme of library things. This is due, probably, very largely to the plan of conducting the whole matter on a free and open basis, in consultation with the staff at every point, and also to the length of time that was allowed to elapse between steps. Publicity and deliberation are the two necessary things in a procedure of this kind, and both are commended to librarians wishing to adopt this kind of record.

There is no doubt in my mind that some efficiency record is necessary and valuable, and that a full record, including the usual high percentage of good things with the possible proportion of bad ones, is preferable to a mere blacklist, on which only the bad is recorded.

The blank, as finally adopted, is reproduced herewith.

ST. LOUIS PUBLIC LIBRARY

RECORD OF EFFICIENCY

Name

(Inverted, in full)

Branch or Department.

Length of service in dept. or branch.
Present grade of assistant.
Entered the library.

A. Personal qualities.

1. Physically strong enough for the work?
How much time lost while in department and why?
2. Knowledge of books.
Improving in this?
3. All around information?
4. Appreciation for real literature.
5. Resourceful? Systematic?
6. Self-possessed in a rush or emergency?
7. Executive ability? Decision?
8. Accurate? Quick? Adaptable?
9. Industrious? Careless?
10. Obliging to fellow-workers?
11. Punctual? Times tardy? Excusable?
12. Forgetful? Inclined to gossip?
13. Neat and appropriate in dress?

B. Relations with the public.

1. Uniformly courteous? Dignified?
2. Inclined to entertain personal visitors?
3. Effective in work with adults?
4. Effective in work with children?

C. Grade as excellent, good, fair, or poor.

1. Library hand.
2. Printing.
3. Typewriting.
4. Shorthand.

D. Did the assistant improve while with you?

In what way?
In what did she fall short?

E. If the assistant had weak points, did you call her attention to them?

F. What did you especially like about the assistant?

G. Do you consider the assistant fitted or unfitted by personality,
education and practical efficiency to work in any one of the
following departments? Grade her work as excellent, good,
fair or poor, stating also length of service at each kind of
work.

1. An all-around branch assistant in this library?
2. A children’s librarian?
3. A reference department assistant?
4. A catalog department assistant?
5. A desk assistant?
6. A clerical assistant?
7. An assistant in other lines? (specify)
If you do not consider the assistant so fitted, give particular reasons.

H. Is the assistant loyal to the library?

I. Has the assistant enthusiasm in her work?

J. Would you be satisfied to have the assistant in your (Branch)
(Dept.), not considering the fact that you might prefer some
one else?

L. Remarks.

Date

Signature
Title

MAL-EMPLOYMENT IN THE LIBRARY[12]

Students of the labor problem have given a vast amount of attention to the unemployed, but comparatively little to the mal-employed. It troubles them--and very properly--that there should be large numbers of persons who are doing no work, who are contributing nothing toward the operation of the world’s machinery; they do not seem to be so greatly bothered that there are persons hard at work to no purpose or with evil result--whose efforts either do not help the world along or actually impede it or hold it back. Serious as is the case of those who are not employed at all, it is as nothing compared with those who are employed badly.

One reason for this neglect--which is at the same time a reason why it should no longer exist--is that the burden of unemployment bears most conspicuously on the individual, while that of mal-employment is predominantly civic. It is true that unemployment works civic injury, and that mal-employment, especially if it be criminal, is recognized at once as a possible harm to the individual. But what I mean is that the unemployed person, unless he is one of the idle rich, is greatly concerned about his lack of employment, which touches his pocket directly. He does all that he can to get back into the ranks of the employed, but once there it does not occur to him to ask whether what he is doing benefits society, or is of no value to it, or actually harms it. Even if he does so inquire, he is not likely to give up a job that pays him well simply because what he is doing is injurious to the world’s progress. The injury done is social and civic and we must look to increased social and civic consciousness for its abatement.

I owe this word _mal-employment_, in its contrasted use with _unemployment_, to William Kent, a member of Congress from the city of Chicago. In a recent interview, Mr. Kent gives it as his opinion that the sin of the day is waste--the expenditure of effort for naught or for positive ill. Of course, when we get down to details there is difficulty or even impossibility in deciding whether or not a given man is mal-employed--we may leave out of consideration here all persons engaged in criminal occupations. For instance, Mr. Kent considers that the small army of men engaged in the manufacture of champagne are all mal-employed. Whether we agree with him or not depends somewhat on our predispositions and our points of view. Many parents, in earlier days, thought that when children were at play they were mal-employed; most persons now regard this form of employment as necessary and beneficial, although Dr. Boris Sidis thinks that the same interest now employed in aimless play may be used to carry the child onward in the path of individual progress and development. How about the vast number of persons occupied in amusing or trying to amuse the public--employees of theatres, recreation parks, and so on? Many are well employed; some are doubtless mal-employed. Among persons that we should all agree are mal-employed are all those writing books or plays that are morally harmful, as well as those concerned in publishing such books or producing such plays, and, for the moment, all who are reading or witnessing them; persons engaged in manufacturing or distributing useless or harmful products; all who do work of any kind so badly that inconvenience or harm results; unnecessary middlemen whose intervention in the process of distribution only impedes it and adds to its expense. Anyone may add to the list by taking thought a little. If all these mal-employed persons should suddenly lose their positions the result would be beneficial to society, even if society had to support them in idleness; if they should all turn their attention from mal-employment to beneficial uses, how incalculably great a blessing they would bestow upon mankind! It is every man’s business, it seems to me, to inquire whether he is well employed or mal-employed, and if the occupation in which he is engaged is generally beneficial to society, then whether all those under his orders are well employed in carrying out its purpose.

Let us, as librarians, take up this civic task for a few moments. And first, let us not hastily conclude that we are necessarily well employed simply because we are librarians. A library may do harm; I have personally known of harm done by libraries. A group can be no better than its constituents; a collection of harmful books is assuredly itself harmful. More, a chain is no stronger than its weakest link; a fleet is no faster than its slowest ship; and we may almost say that a library is no better than its worst book. And we must not forget that a book may be bad in three ways: it may give incorrect information, teach what is morally wrong, or use language that is unfitting. It may be necessary that a library should contain any or all of these, but if they give it its atmosphere and control its influence as an educational institution, even unwittingly, it is anti-social and those who administer it are mal-employed. I have in mind a pseudo-scientific book for children that abounds in misstatements combined with beautiful illustrations; a book of travel full of ludicrous misinformation; a work intended to teach Italians English, whose English is screamingly funny. The library assistant who hands one of these to a reader is mal-employed. I can make a list (and so can you) of books that teach, directly or by implication, that what is universally acknowledged to be wrong is right--at least under certain circumstances; that theft is smart and that swindling is unobjectionable. The library assistant who circulates these is mal-employed. All of us can easily also place our hands on books whose only fault is that their language is objectionable--incorrect, silly or vulgar. They may be otherwise unobjectionable, yet I venture to say that the distribution of these books is also mal-employment. How about the librarian who administers such a library, and the staff who assist him? They are all mal-employed. No matter how well and how conscientiously the cataloguer may perform her task, no matter how clean the janitor may keep the front steps, they are only aiding to keep up an institution that disseminates falsehood, teaches unrighteousness, encourages vulgarity; and they are all mal-employed. This is what I mean when I say that a library may be no better than its worst book. If its output is bad, all exertion to accomplish that output is also bad. And as for the output itself, it may be that the good done by a thousand good books may not outweigh the ill done by a few bad ones.

A person is always mal-employed when he is leaving a more important thing undone, to do a less important one. The degree of mal-employment in this case is measured, of course, by the difference in value between the two things. Mr. E.L. Pearson, in one of his library articles in the _Boston Transcript_, calls attention to what he names “side-shows” in libraries, and asserts that the chief business of a library, the proper care and distribution of books, is often neglected that other things may be attended to, and that money needed for books is often diverted to these other uses. This is undoubtedly true in many cases, and in so far as it is true some librarians and library assistants are mal-employed. The scope of library work has broadened out enormously of late and libraries are doing all sorts of things that are subsidiary to their main work--things that will make that work easier and more effective. This is as it should be, provided that these numerous tails do not wag the dog. To take an extreme instance we will assume that a small library is in great need of books and that a small gift of money, instead of being expended for these is put into material for picture bulletins. We should have no difficulty in concluding that the person who makes the bulletins is mal-employed; and in so doing we should not be condemning picture bulletins at all or saying that money spent for them is wasted. Take again a case specially noted by Mr. Pearson, which is bothering the heads of some of our library trustees at this moment--the acceptance and preservation of full sets of the printed catalogue cards of the Library of Congress. There can be no doubt of the value of such depository sets to certain libraries, and as they are given free of charge the only expense connected with them is the cost of an assistant’s time in filing them, amounting perhaps to an hour or two a day, and that of cabinets in which to keep them. Whether this cost is far outweighed by the usefulness of the collection to the library and its patrons, or whether that usefulness is practically _nil_, making the outlay wasteful, no matter how small it may be, must be answered by each library for itself. In some cases, labor expended on the filing of L.C. cards is undoubtedly mal-employment.

Certain kinds of work which were either not mal-employment when they were adopted, or were not recognized as such, have become so by reason of a change, either in the conditions of the work itself or in the way in which it is regarded by those who are doing it and by the public that benefits by it.

Take, for instance, labor performed under an age-limit rule for children, such as nearly all libraries once possessed, and such as is still enforced in some places. If it is true that the library ought not to be used by children below a specified age, work done in ascertaining their ages and in excluding those barred out by the rule is necessary and valuable. If this is not true; if the exclusion of such children may be actually harmful to the community, it follows that all such work is the most flagrant kind of mal-employment.

But there may also be mal-employment in the course of work of undoubted advantage to the library and its public. If in the course of such work something is done that sets it back instead of helping it on, or that injures the library in some other way more than it helps by what it directly effects, labor expended on that thing is mal-employment. This is a more fundamental and elementary thing than lack of efficiency. If an assistant is cataloguing books well, but much more slowly than she ought, she is not efficiently employed, but neither is she mal-employed, for she is doing nothing that directly injures the work. If she were to stop, the library would be injured, not benefited. But if she is making egregious blunders in her work, causing undue labor in revision or making the catalogue confused or misleading in case her cards should get into it, it might be better for the library if she were to stop work, and she is surely mal-employed.

The public is apt to generalize from insufficient data. The user who is treated rudely or sullenly at the desk just once does not say, “I will make a record of this and of my subsequent experiences and see whether it is a usual thing or an abnormal one.” Not at all. He or she at once reports in conversation that the public library assistants are continuously rude and disagreeable, and the machinery is forthwith set in motion that makes or mars reputation. We may chafe at this; we may try to disregard it, but in the end we shall have to accept it as a fact of human nature. The public institution that wants to acquire that valuable asset, reputation, whether it is a reputation for kindliness, for helpfulness, for common sense, for scholarly acquirements, will have to make up its mind to be kind, helpful, sensible, and scholarly, not fifty per cent or seventy-five per cent of the time, but one hundred per cent of the time.

But entirely apart from such serious intervals of mal-employment as this, is it not probable that all of us are mal-employed for some little part of our time? Is it not probable, in other words, that our work would be improved if we should omit certain parts of it and do nothing at all instead? It is certain, for one thing, that no one could work continuously, day and night, without serious or fatal mal-employment. That is the reason why our working hours are limited to seven or eight in the twenty-four. Doubtless some workers are over worked and thus mal-employed in their hours of overwork--the sleepy railroad engineer, for instance, who misses a signal and sends a hundred passengers to eternity. We are doubtless free in the library from just this kind of mal-employment, except so far as it is forced upon us by assistants who work or play too strenuously outside of working hours. To go back to the assistant who is cross or careless for an hour every day; it is quite possible that she is in no condition for working during that hour; and this is not because the library hours of work are too long, but because she does not take needed rest outside of those hours. Sometimes this cannot be helped; often it is distinctly the worker’s fault, and it is surely putting the library in a false position to make it overwork its staff to their detriment and its own, just because the assistant puts in her best and freshest hours in work, or more often in amusement, outside the library.

Let me pause here to say that the reason we take vacations is to avoid the chance of this kind of mal-employment. The theory of the vacation is widely misunderstood. Some take it to be a period of amusement granted for services rendered. “I think I have earned a vacation,” they say. Others look upon it as play-time wrung from an unwilling employer--the more they can get the better off they are. Few realize that it is, or ought to be, simply an incident in the year’s work, an assignment to special duty, without which mal-employment would be more apt to result.

The mal-employed intervals of an otherwise valuable worker are often due to ignorance of conditions or sheer inability to meet them. In an interesting study of bricklaying one of the modern school of efficiency engineers found that most bricklayers kept their bricks too far from the point on the wall where they were to be laid, and that a long and wasteful carrying movement resulted. If the time occupied by this lost motion could have been eliminated and simply given to resting, even without doing any work, good would have resulted; these periods were hence intervals of mal-employment The engineer eliminated them easily and simply by bringing the pile of bricks within a few inches of the wall. It is easy to say, “Why, of course, any one would think of that!” Only no one ever did think of it. A large proportion of the most valuable inventions and discoveries have been of this character. Some one has remarked that in the earliest stage of an invention people say, “It won’t work;” later they say, “It may work, but it won’t be of any use.” Finally; when it is usefully running, they say, “What of it? Everybody has always known about it!” We don’t do these obvious things because they are elements in a series of acts that have grown to be habitual. We take care of them subconsciously. Also, they take up so little time individually that at first thought it seems foolish to try to improve or eliminate them. Suppose one does a useless, or even an injurious thing that lasts but three seconds? If he does it just once and then stops, it would doubtless be folly to change it. If, however, like the bricklayer’s useless and tiresome motions, it is repeated hundreds and thousands of times, the matter stands on quite a different footing. It is probable that all of us are habitually doing certain things in ways that involve, without our realizing it, elements of this kind, either mechanical or mental. Many things that we are doing by laborious repetition, wearying ourselves and using up valuable material, might be made to “do themselves” if we only knew how to utilize tendencies and forces that are all about us, unsuspected. One of the forces, for instance, is the desire of every person to do that which will give him pleasure. If the things we want done can be done in accordance with that desire, we can get others to do them for us. The classical example of the boys who whitewashed Tom Sawyer’s fence for him will occur to all. There is deep philosophy in this. I have known librarians to exhaust themselves by trying to get newspapers to publish what newspapers never would publish, while the reporters besiege others for items which they know will be just what they want. The rules of some libraries--both those for their public and those for their own assistants--all seem to run up hill--to “rub everyone the wrong way,” while those of others seem to get themselves obeyed without any trouble.

Sometimes the substitution of a mechanical appliance for brain-work is what we want. What, for instance, is the use of tiring one’s brain and impairing its usefulness for other needed work by forcing it to perform such a mechanical operation as adding a column of figures? Every library that can afford to own an adding machine ought to have one. The ones that can not afford it usually do not need it.

While we are discussing the mal-employment that does its harm by tiring out the worker, physically or mentally, and making him unfit for other work, we must not neglect to say a word about unnecessary talk. Nothing is so tiring to the brain as talk. I sometimes think that if we were all forced to do our work in silence we would get along more rapidly even if we had to communicate with each other in writing.

If a man were in charge of a piece of complicated machinery, and if he feared that something had got into it to clog it, while his knowledge of its elementary parts was still so slight that he could not tell which particular bit in all the moving mass was helping it on and which was hindering it, what would he do? He could remove the pieces, one by one, and watch the effect. If the machine refused to run without a certain piece, he would conclude that it was an absolutely necessary part; if it still ran, though with difficulty, he would conclude that the part, though not necessary, still promoted efficient operation; if removal resulted in no change at all, the piece was evidently either an unnecessary part, or an alien piece not so placed as to interfere with action. If the machine worked decidedly better after removal, the removed element must have been a clog--was, in fact, mal-employed.

How many of us feel like submitting to this test? If you should stop your work, would the library machine run along quite as usual? Or would it limp? Or would it refuse to run at all? Or would it--O distasteful thought!--would it jump ahead and function with greater speed and smoothness?

I believe in vacations; and yet I rather like to feel that the absence of an assistant on vacation makes a difference. And if every one in her department looks forward with fond expectation to her return and greets her with looks of satisfaction and sighs of relief, I cannot help feeling that she is a more integral part of the library machinery than if her return were generally regarded with indifference or were dreaded as a sort of calamity. When every one feels that she can work much better when Miss Blank is away, I am forced to inquire whether in truth Miss Blank is not a clog in the wheels instead of a cog, and whether a permanent vacation would not be the proper thing for her.

And how about your library as a whole? Suppose it should be leveled by a tornado, or swallowed up by an earthquake, or swept away by a flood? What effect would this have on the life of your town? Would the passer-by point to the ruins, or to the hole in the ground where once your library stood, with the same kind and amount of interest that he would show when viewing the stump of an old tree or the fragments of a blasted boulder? Or would every man, woman and child feel the loss? Would the teachers seek in vain for aid, the merchants for information, the workmen for data of use to them in their daily tasks?