Theologians
do not steal books, it is assumed, because theologians are aware of the
commandment about theft. This assumption was once challenged by a colleague who
said to me, straight-faced, that if a theologian is called by a higher power to
have that book, to read, learn, and inwardly digest the book, then rules and
regulations will not get in the way of their calling. They will have the book
by hook or by crook. This logic needs to be challenged by the knowledge that a
light-fingered, not to say light-minded, theologian has other friends and colleagues,
people we call neighbour, who also want the same book and may hear the same
call.
This
facetious dialogue about borrowing and theft in the library came to mind while
reading a thread on Atlantis this week. Atlantis is the e-list of the American
Theological Library Association (ATLA). I quote the discussion in order, with
contributors’ names given at the end to protect the innocent, and even the
guilty, for all I know.
A opens up
the question thus: “I’d be interested to hear from other ATLA
libraries about what you do to prevent theft. I’m not actually thinking
about theft of our books (most have security strips, but I know that does
happen as well.) No what I am thinking of is theft from patrons.
Our students and visitors tend to leave their backpacks, laptops, cellphones,
pocketbooks etc. unattended on tables and in carrels around our library.
And then they are shocked and upset when something gets stolen.
“We’ve tried speaking to them about this at orientation, we have signs
on our carrels telling them not to leave items unattended, and we have flyers
that the staff put down when we see someone’s items left unattended – and yet,
they still do it and stuff still gets stolen. I’d be interested to hear
how other libraries handle this issue.”
B responds, speaking from experience: “In New
York, in the early 1990s when the crime rate was higher, I would tell
patrons who proposed leaving their items in the reading room, ‘We are in the
big city.’ Creating the impression that you will be nice and take care of these
patrons, does them a disservice. There are thieves abroad and we can't catch
them, at least not all of them. The problem we have is that our patrons create
an attractive nuisance by leaving good stuff to steal. No sympathy with ‘em.”
The
good stuff could include the library books too, one hastens to observe. It’s
one thing to be urbane about the urban environment, but C proffers more
practical advice : “Do you have signs posted around the
library that you are not responsible if personal items are stolen? I worked at [a
library where] signs were posted literally everywhere. There were also lockers
in the one of the libraries, which was helpful. You could perhaps try posting
signs such as Don’t leave your laptop unattended lest your research might walk
away.”
B starts getting complex and philosophical:
“I suppose
people are also upset and blame the director of public parks when they leave
their laptop on a picnic table in a public park and go away for a couple of
hours, finding that the laptop has mysteriously disappeared. But really, our
public spaces in libraries are just that, public spaces (even if we are private
libraries, with restricted access, they are about as public as we get). Only
really invasive access policies and searches could prevent theft, and that
would require (for instance) keeping any laptop out of the library that wasn't
permanently marked with the identity of the person entering with it and then
re-matching laptops and IDs on the way out. That would not only be prohibitively
expensive, but would offend most patrons (especially Emeritus Professor
McPrivilege, who couldn't be left out of the regimen without it becoming
discriminatory).”
Curious
how borrower types repeat themselves across national borders and great oceans,
but B now gets not only counter-intuitive about how to stop stealing, B enters
a theological whirlpool: “My recommendation would be humorous signs, reminding
people that they are allowed to not steal other people's materials left out on
these public tables, but they shouldn't expect that everyone will adopt this
laudable practice. After all, not all your patrons are Methodists on the
path to perfection--in this interreligious environment, some are Calvinists,
subject to Original Sin and Total Depravity.”
This
Augustinian development is met with an Augustinian paradox, of the kind referred
to in the opening of this essay. D steps in: “Yes, but the Calvinist, knowing his justifiably condemned condition,
finding himself with his eyes open to see God’s absolutely amazing gift of
salvation through faith in the death of Christ, would be so grateful for this
indescribable gift, that he should never want to sully his Savior’s name by
stealing a lap top. “
Contributors (in alphabetical order by surname):
Philip Harvey: Librarian, The Carmelite Library, Melbourne
Andrew Kadel:
resident in Yonkers, New York
Amy Limpitlaw: Head Librarian, Boston University, School of Theology
Library
Ruth L. Slagle:
Public Services Librarian, Baptist College of Florida,
Graceville
Debbie Wright: Cataloger, Turpin Library, Dallas
Theological Seminary
