An Open Source Social Movement
By Joseph Janes
American Libraries Columnist
Assistant Professor, Information School, University of Washington.
intlib@ischool.washington.edu
Column for June/July 2005
David Silver really wants you to know that the September Project isn’t about September 11, 2001. Of course it started as a reaction to that day, now resonant with such power throughout our culture; however, the September Project uses the date instead as a catalyst for discussions about democracy, citizenship, and patriotism that will take place—naturally—every September 11 (AL, Sept. 2004, p. 69).
Silver’s not a librarian; he’s my faculty colleague in the University of Washington’s communications department. When he and his partner Sarah Washburn (formerly of the Gates Foundation) were conceiving this project, they landed on libraries as an attractive venue because they seemed like safe places to hold these discussions.
At the very beginning, this idea, like so many others, was an attempt to commemorate September 11 in a positive and constructive way. The concept spread very quickly, and in ways it never could have without the internet. Obviously, the speed and reach of the Web facilitated that spread, which was also fostered by a simple but valuable technique often used in building virtual communities. Silver and Washburn built up an idea bank with initial notions for events suggested by early adopters. This seeding process helped people to see what other libraries were thinking about and to then add new ideas of their own to the bank, which soon snowballed and broadly expanded interest and participation in the project.
In addition, a map on the website showing participating libraries was a big deal. It helped new libraries to visualize who was on board and see the momentum as others joined in increasing numbers. It also provided a vivid presence of the growing project (and was frequently updated—so much so that at least one library was a little annoyed that it didn’t get on the map for several hours after it had signed on).
Not about the Net
Among the most surprising aspects of the project, at least from my perspective, is that the day itself was not about the internet. It was about the discussions, the conversations, the interactions, the communication, all of which happened in real time, person to person, all over the country and indeed around the world.
It would have been easy to conceive of a similar project housed on the internet, which in fact could have had broader reach and involved more people. Imagine global web chats, discussion boards, exchange programs, and development of relevant sites and resources. I suppose such an endeavor would have been meaningful in its own way; for me, though, it wouldn’t have been the same. It wouldn’t have had the flavor of community and richness of the 2004 projects described on the website.
This experience is quite reminiscent, at least for some of us who’ve been on the Net for a long time, of the early days, way back in the middle ’90s, when there was so much idealism about the internet and its potential as a force for self-expression, communication, and mutual understanding. When so much of what one sees on the Web these days seems so trivial or transitory, it’s nice every once in a while to see the power of internetworking used in a positive (and, we hope, enduring) way.
The kind of enthusiasm and passion, dedication, and commitment that Silver and Washburn shared soon infected a large number of other people around the country who adopted the idea, made it their own, built upon it, and shared it again. Silver uses a great phrase to describe this—he calls it an “open source social movement.”
A curious phrase, that. The open source notion is largely identified with software development, although it has intriguing parallels in the open-access scholarly communication world as well. Now we see it in social and community activism. Each case involves not only sharing but a yielding of control and constraint. Develop your software, write your article, then give it over and let the world make of it as it will, without thought of compensation other than acknowledgement or recognition.
It’s unrealistic to assume that this paradigm would ever upend traditional structures of publishing, public policy and polity, or information sharing. (I should write about the folksonomy movement someday; maybe that should be your summer reading assignment!) If it did, the world might be a much more interesting place . . . but that’s another story.
|
