Book Reviews 397 doi:10.5860/crl.77.3.397 Lewis focuses on forces that have caused disruptive change in libraries, but early on he advises academic librarians to “find opportunities to be the disrupter who develops new services and products that use the available technologies with new business mod- els.” In discussing how the physical book is changing, he compares it to the changes the music industry has already undergone. In looking at changes in the scholarly record, Lewis rightly points out concerns about lost information. Digital preservation is one of the challenges every library needs to address; and, collectively, we need to find solu- tions on preserving content more quickly. How we adapt and thrive when conditions are likely to continue to change presents us with both challenges and opportunities. In his conclusion, Lewis outlines the ten steps that are necessary for effective change in academic libraries. It is perhaps the 10th step, “Sell the Change,” that may be the most challenging because Lewis correctly asserts that we need to articulate why new investments are needed to our administrators even as we see expenditures in other more traditional areas reduced. It is perhaps worth considering that, not only should this work be required reading for students in library and information management programs, but also for members of campus library advisory committees to help them obtain a better picture of the outside forces that we have been dealing with and the forces of change that require investment in our libraries for the future. Our future in higher education is dependent on responding to disruptive forces with positive change; some of the proposals will mean making hard decisions and tough choices. However, academic libraries are not only often the heart of the institution, they are essential for supporting higher education. This work has many practical sugges- tions for librarians who wish to make change and ensure that we remain relevant on our campuses. In view of recent events, our libraries may become even more important on each of our campuses as pointed out by Chris Bourg, head of MIT libraries, who recently shared in an Educause talk on libraries and our role in higher education, that we may not need to save libraries, but libraries may indeed be what saves us. David W. Lewis provides a framework for ensuring that our libraries are relevant and con- tinue to contribute in the 21st century and make a difference for higher education by doing those things others on campus cannot, emphasizing that we must look closely at those things that need doing versus continuing to do what has been traditional. It is a thoughtful and inspiring book that is well worth the time to read for oneself as well as to read with others in your organization for discussion and conversation about what strategies make sense for your own institution. Everyone may not agree with all the proposals, yet David Lewis has produced a work that will inform librarians, and only by engaging in conversations about possible directions that will work within your culture, your campus, and your type of academic library will you find a path for relevance and success at your own institution. I believe this book should be required reading for all students in library or information management schools interested in working in academic libraries.—Teresa A. Fishel, Macalester College R. David Lankes (with contributions from Wendy Newman, Sue Kowalski, Beck Tench, and Cheryl Gould). The New Librarianship Field Guide. Cambridge, Mass.; London, England: MIT Press, 2016. 226p. Paper, $22 (ISBN 978262529082). LC 2015-39943. R. David Lankes, celebrated author/editor of The Atlas of New Librarianship (2011) has now published a new book, also from MIT Press, as a companion to the Atlas. Its purpose is to serve as a handbook for implementing the ideas promoted in the Atlas. At the time of publication, Lankes was Professor and Dean’s Scholar for the New Li- brarianship at Syracuse University’s School of Information Studies and Director of the Information Institute of Syracuse. Subsequently, Lankes has assumed the position of director of the University of South Carolina’s School of Library & Information Science http://10.5860/crl 398 College & Research Libraries March 2017 and serves as the 2016–2017 Follett Chair at Dominican University’s Graduate School of Library and Information Science. This text was apparently intended for classroom use. Included are “Observations from the Field” (“field notes, tricks, and observations”) concerning material presented in fourteen of the book’s eighteen chapters, a section of “frequently asked questions” (that is, questions that might be used in classroom conversations or on exams), as well as a list of “Discussion Points” arranged by chapter. This project is laid out in a very similar fashion to (and possibly modeled on) Robert E. Quinn’s course, Deep Change: Discovering the Leader Within (1996) and The Deep Change Field Guide (2012). Lankes’ stated intention is to situate libraries and librarians in their communities (very loosely defined) and describe how librarians can effect “radical change” in those communities, to “prepare them to be socially responsible.” He assumes that all librar- ians are principled and doing good work while ignoring those who aren’t and weren’t, such as librarians who worked in law libraries to help prepare their employers’ case in defense of Jim Crow laws or of those corporate librarians who assist theirs in finding ways to defraud the government at the community’s expense. Another unfounded assumption is that all libraries are the same and share the same mission: for instance, in a discussion of public libraries he would necessarily have to treat the public library of the village of Blowing Rock, North Carolina, as if it were the same thing with the same purpose as a research institution like the New York Public Library. Although the author claims to be neither philosopher nor priest, he sure sounds like both—and variously as an evangelist, revolutionary, and self-help advisor. Ultimately the voice of the politician prevails, as Lankes promises to make librarianship great again. You would think, in a treatise devoted to remaking librarianship to be a more socially engaged profession, one would find more references to the influential library philosopher S.R. Ranganathan. Alas, he is barely mentioned, while other pioneers and advocates for a socially aware and responsible librarianship, including Sanford Berman and the Progressive Librarians Guild, are not mentioned at all. Lankes demurs. He claims that his approach, “New Librarianship,” is “simply librarianship” but that “many will disagree; they use this phrase to distinguish this approach from previous approaches.” To simplify matters, he has adopted this term, a phrase whose use he initiated, consistently uses, and always capitalizes. I agree that what the author presents is simply librarianship, although I challenge anyone to identify what‘s new in what is presented. “How may I help you?” Lankes writes, is “one of the most arrogant questions we could ask: it assumes that the power to help lies exclusively in our hands . . .we are the ones to help our members, who so clearly are in need of assistance.” He ignores the fact that, in many other professions, this question is also routinely asked and without offense. He suggests that we instead ask questions like “What do you love?” or “What are you passionate about?” As for myself, I would feel uncomfortable asking a patron these questions and irritated if asked one when visiting another library. There are, of course, the expected typos (such as “Liberians” for “Librarians”) and as has unfortu- nately become the norm in academic book publishing, the index is woefully inadequate. I do find points of agreement with Lankes. For instance, I agree wholeheartedly with his disdain for referring to our patrons as “customers,” though I am not satisfied with his suggested replacement: “members.” I also applaud Lankes’ insistence that librarians and libraries rely too heavily on metrics to assess performance and that we must identify other means for evaluating our relative success. Reading the Field Guide, I wonder who Lankes’ intended audience might be. It seems to me that he is telling librarians things they already know and nonlibrarians things they don’t care to know. Every few years something “new” comes along that Book Reviews 399 doi:10.5860/crl.78.3.399 promises to be the profession’s salvation and collectively our new vision and path. It rarely is.—Fred J. Hay, Appalachian State University Aaron D. Purcell. Digital Library Programs for Libraries and Archives: Developing, Manag- ing, and Sustaining Unique Digital Collections. Chicago: Neal-Schuman Publishers, 2016. 224p. Paper, $85 (ISBN 0-838-91450-0). If ever there was a multipurpose tool for digital library texts, Aaron Purcell’s Digital Library Programs for Libraries and Archives would qualify. By the author’s own ambitious admission, the book serves to provide a full suite of instruments: a history of digital libraries; a review of the current state of the field; strategies for planning and managing digital projects; and step-by-step instructions for the creation of a digital library project plan. Throughout, it includes practical fill-in-the-blank questionnaires and a few charts and matrices. It is not hard to imagine these worksheets propelling a semester-long graduate seminar forward or circulating during a staff retreat where librarians wrestle with a moribund digital project. This slim and wholly readable volume has something for everyone, in part because its author has been a teacher, a hands-on archivist, a digital-projects manager, and an administrator. The book ultimately serves a variety of audiences because Purcell has lived many professional lives, in varied roles, and his intention is to leave no one behind. Purcell’s oeuvre, so far, includes two practical guides focused on the work and poli- cies of archives and special collections and monographs on American history. It is in the hands of a historian then, that this volume maintains the delicate balance between history, theory, and how-to. This balance may well safeguard the volume from the dangers of technical obsolescence. That is, rather than fill its chapters with technical specifications, file format types, and specific software solutions, Purcell refers to tools and programs with a devil-may-care casualness and a historian’s eye for the right amount of detail versus big-picture views. This book has no intention of serving as a software advertisement or a showcase of current digital projects. You won’t find lists of project URLs (which are bound to change during the long arc of history that archivists abide by), nor will you find screen captures of web pages, or detailed comparisons of software platforms. Having cast aside these familiar tropes, we are left with historical and contemporary issues and questions of real consequence. As it turns out, we are better off without the URLs and screenshots. The book is divided into three sections. The first, “Theory and Reality of Digital Libraries” is fol- lowed by two hands-on sections, “Building Digital Libraries Programs: A Step-by-Step Process,” and “Digital Library Planning Exercises.” Each section balances well-chosen vocational details alongside the sorts of weighty questions librarians and archivists are sometimes eager to sidestep. For example, the most critical library literature reader might not blink an eye if a book attending to the history of library technology omits reference to its roots in the 1960s Department of Defense, yet in the hands of a historian, this detail unselfconsciously launches a brisk jaunt through two chapters that trace the emergence of digital humanities, the Google Books mass digitization effort, the Internet Archive, open access, crowdsourcing, the Digital Public Library of America, born-digital records, and digital forensics. Having traveled this historic path, we’re meant to feel grounded and steadfast with a “look how far we’ve come” sensibility. But these historical chapters end on something of a dark note, pointing to a long economic downturn and its effect on library services. The defunding of public institu- tions, including archives, historical societies, and special collections, has taken a toll on our commitment to core services (or rather, what we once thought were our core services). Is it sustainable and ethical to hire fewer staff, buy fewer resources, and pay less attention to our physical collections to buy the equipment and services needed http://10.5860/crl