“Look out! The shelvers are collapsing!”

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NO, this isn’t a health and safety announcement. It’s true that shelves have been known to come tumbling down here in our libraries; and our safety representatives do keep a watchful eye on the shelving bays that remain standing, some of which emulate Pisa’s central tourist attraction. But take a moment to reread the warning above and you’ll notice it’s referring to people not planks.

NOW IT SOUNDS MORE SERIOUS. The shelvers are collapsing? Someone had better fetch a first aider, hadn’t they? And what are the shelving supervisors doing about it?

THE ANSWER: nothing. This might sound callous, but the truth is it’s exactly what the supervisors expect their shelvers to do. If we don’t see them collapsing during their daily two hour shifts, they’re not doing their job properly. And of course they oblige. Mostly because they’re a very industrious group of employees, but also because it’s straightforward stuff. It’s not rocket science. It’s basic quantum mechanics.

POPULAR SCIENCE neatly divides us into two groups: dog people and cat people. The dog people are enthralled by Ivan Pavlov’s work. They can’t help themselves. They’re conditioned to think that way. Those of a feline persuasion, however, are open to the possibilities highlighted by Erwin Schrödinger. They know all about the cat in the box, the put upon pussy for whom the non-Pavlovian bell tolls. Some say it’s radioactive poison, others a bullet, but the net result is the same: until the box is opened for an observer, or a measurement of relevant data is recorded, the cat is both dead and alive at the same time.

THIS PARADOX exists in the form of a wave-function. Until the wave-function is collapsed – either through the aforementioned observation or recording of data – the state of uncertainty persists. And as we all know, a library is no place for uncertainty. We can’t have our physical resources existing on a paradoxical plane; but the possibilities are there. Whenever a book is returned, misshelved, or left languishing in a reading room or corridor, it is simultaneously missing and available, lost and found, in and out of circulation. This is disastrous, verging on chaos. What kind of library is this? Somebody do something…before it’s too late! Will someone PLEASE collapse the wave-functions!

“Don’t worry! The shelvers are collapsing!”

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THE SHELVERS ARE VICTIMS. Victims of their own success. Whether it’s the Sisyphean task of returning the collection to the open shelf, or the collaborative efforts with subject librarians to reconfigure the stacks, or the first line enquiry service they provide while being in the thick of it…they do it with aplomb; and without fanfare. And for that, we’re very grateful.

NEXT TIME you see a shelver in action – you can spot them if you try hard enough, despite their ability to blend seamlessly with the stacks – give them a nod or a wave, or maybe ask how they’re doing. Collapsing bibliographic wave-functions is a relentless task, and it’s worth reassuring the shelvers it’s not a thankless one.