CHAPTER 4:  RESEARCH METHODS

Introduction 

I built and analyzed these data using grounded research, which is “an initial, systematic discovery of the theory from the data of social research.”   The main tenet is that, rather than start with a theory and look for data to fit it, the researcher

takes the data and develop[s] from them a theory that fits and works, instead of wasting time and good men [sic] in attempts to fit a theory based on ‘reified’ ideas of culture and social structure.[1]

My questions were, where can I find collections of cataloged “pornography”?  How do libraries and archives provide access to “pornography”?   What system is used?  Who built it?  How does it work?  What troubles does it have?  In other words, rather than speculate about how libraries might or should deal with sexually explicit materials, I went out and found some that do.  I was disinterested in the other usual topics of discussion around “pornography” in libraries, such as “censorship,” except as it came up in the interviews.

I combined library visits, interviews, and documentary analysis to learn, from the people and places that have it, how their “pornography” or sexually explicit materials are organized.  I looked for and read articles and books, located web sites and catalogs, found libraries, special thesauri and other resources, and discovered various collectors, scholars, organizations, and experts. 

In my interviews I advanced without a definition of “pornography” in hand, instead permitting my interviewees to dictate the course of our discussions, including bringing up labels for the materials.  Common themes quickly emerged; many more than I am able to address in this paper.  One important theme that is important to call out is that the line between “sexually explicit materials” and “pornography” changes constantly.  Considered both geographically and temporally, virtually any materials dealing with topics of sexuality and reproduction have the potential of being contested or redefined as inappropriate for libraries to hold and provide access to. 

Identifying Libraries

I identified potential sexuality libraries and collections using books, articles, and Web pages.  Martha Cornog and Timothy Perper's book Libraries, Erotica and Pornography[2]  includes chapters by Gwendolyn L. Pershing entitled "Erotica Research Collections"[3]  and Daniel C. Tsang “Homosexuality Research Collections.”[4]   Cornog and Perper’s newer title, For Sex Education, See Librarian,[5]  (a pun on old card catalogs where the subject card for "Sex" said "see librarian") includes even more excellent references and descriptions.  This book is also the most complete and balanced librarian-informed perspective on how to build collections and provide access to sexually explicit materials. 

Jefferson Selth's book Alternative Lifestyles:  A Guide to Research Collections on Intentional Communities, Nudism, and Sexual Freedom[6]  systematically describes an excellent set of alternative libraries.  He visited all of the libraries and collections described, and details them in brief chapters with descriptions of General Description, Publications, Holdings, Bibliographic Access, and Other Comments.  The “Sexual Freedom” chapter provides detailed and systematic information answering many questions I had about subject analysis tools used by a number of sexuality libraries. 

Footnotes and bibliographies from the above sources were mined for other useful writings about sexuality libraries and librarianship.  I also searched the Web for more current discussion of these and other collections.  I checked the websites of already identified libraries, read their descriptions, viewed their catalogs, and looked for links to other collections.  I was particularly interested in finding evidence of what thesauri the libraries used and whether they were built internally or modified from existing tools. 

Finding critical discussions of the subject analysis of “pornography” was not as straightforward, although a few examples do exist. 

I followed the research advice given by Martha Cornog in one of her several articles in Human Sexuality:  An Encyclopedia.[7]  In this article she recommends a number of avenues to find sex information, of which libraries and databases are only part.  She suggests conference papers, dissertations, and organizations; then using this to find individual researchers doing similar work.  She also notes that finding the appropriate index term can be part of the battle, as items are subjectively and sometimes capriciously classed.  Which is part of the problem I am trying to describe.  This article closes:

Thus, pathways to sexuality information, while many and devious, are becoming well enough trodden that truly competent maps can be developed.  Researchers and librarians may struggle with access currently, but in the next few decades the task is likely to become somewhat easier.[8]

Significantly, as I began visiting and interviewing librarians, they would ask where else I was going, or ask if I had heard of this or that collection, article, or indexing tool.  This would either direct me to someplace new or add insight to sites already visited.  The librarians would also ask me about my impression of places I had been, and tell me stories about these places.  I became an embodied part of the information flow between sexuality libraries.  In this iterative way I built a large resource base for the study. 

Contacting Libraries

I contacted each library via email, introduced myself and the goals of this paper, and asked to visit their library and talk to someone responsible for the collection.  I did not send out a standard contact letter, but rather formulated my introduction to the access requirements of each library.

Access to these various libraries would make another thesis in itself, and is not a focus of this one.  But I do want to touch upon a significance in the different access requirements of the libraries I visited.  Some, like public or university libraries, have open access to their materials.  Special sexuality libraries in the United States have strong restrictions, and my access required a letter on departmental letterhead signed by my advisor.  This requirement, some told me, stems from the illegality or obscenity of some of the materials held by these libraries.  Accessing other collections required persistence, roundabout introductions, and even a little guile. 

For a library to collect and hold certain kinds of sexually explicit materials at all is a problem.  The legal challenge U.S. versus 31 Photographs established Kinsey’s right to intellectual freedom and to hold otherwise contraband materials for research purposes.  This ruling also places the requirement that the library limit access to “duly qualified students of sexuality, including university faculty, other scholars and professionals, and university students at least eighteen years old who have demonstrated research needs related to human sexuality, gender, and reproduction.”[9]   Librarian’s freedom to collect sexually explicit materials continues to be defended with this case.

Currently, some of the most contested images are those depicting persons under a certain age; a topic that repeatedly arose, unbidden, across all the libraries visited.  Again, I wasn’t evaluating the content of the materials; I was looking to see what the librarians, collectors, and other professionals had to say about what was there. 

Half a century ago, the contraband was novels.  According to Jack Hafferkamp,

[S]ome of the most important court cases involved works that today we celebrate and study as major works of literature in English.  These include James Joyce’s Ulysses, D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer, John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, and William Burrough’s Naked Lunch.[10]

However,  “many books that were considered ‘questionable’ or ‘objectionable’ in 1922…and even ‘problem’ or ‘controversial’ fiction and nonfiction in 1962…would barely raise an eyebrow in most libraries today.”[11]  To imagine that a library would carry such controversial fiction would have seemed outlandish at that time.  With this in mind, it is not difficult to anticipate that libraries of the future will continue to provide access to ever more sexually explicit materials.

Types of Libraries

Unsurprisingly, there are several kinds of libraries that hold and therefore have to assign subject headings to sexually explicit materials.  Public and university libraries either integrate materials into their collections, hold them as some sort of special collection, or some mixture of the two.  Some special libraries hold large collections and have developed their own thesauri.  These special libraries are affiliated with sexology institutes, reproductive education, and even corporations. 

Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender (GLBT) librarians working in special collections and archives have been a vanguard of creating relevant tools, materials, and expertise.  According to librarian Martha Cornog, who has long been writing on access to sexually explicit materials, “…gay and gay-friendly librarians are largely responsible for opening up librarianship to sexuality.”  She goes on to say “…gay, lesbian and bisexual librarians are making it impossible for librarians to ignore sex any longer.  Finally.”[12]

Like so many other aspects of sexuality librarianship, there is no official association for sexuality librarians; but there are associated bodies.  For example, the ALA (American Library Association) has Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered Round Table (GLBTRT).  This group has proactively dealt with the vicissitudes of subject headings used for sexual topics as well as promoting fairness in subject headings for homosexual practices.  Other librarians I spoke with belong to the SLA (Special Libraries Association), to their home country's library associations in the case of the Netherlands, or perhaps nothing at all.  Professionals may also follow sexological associations like the Society for the Scientific Study of Sexuality (SSSS or Quad-S) or the American Association of Sex Educators, Counselors, and Therapists (AASECT).

Libraries Chosen for This Study

From this large set, I chose a representative sample of libraries to visit.  This was dictated in part by quality and in part by geographic accident and time constraints.   For instance I went to the University of Washington Library (UW) at my own university, as well as Seattle Public Library (SPL) in my own city.  I had to visit the Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex Gender and Reproduction  and the Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality (IASHS), both of which have extensive, organized, and must-see collections of sexually explicit materials.  While visiting IASHS, I visited other San Francisco collections, including the well-reviewed James C. Hormel Gay and Lesbian Center [the Hormel Center] at the San Francisco Public Library (SFPL).  Correspondence with Gayle Rubin alerted me to the Gay Lesbian Bisexual and Transgender Historical Society of San Francisco (GLBTHS) that cooperates extensively with the Hormel Center.  A well-timed vacation to the Netherlands provided the opportunity to visit the Netherlands Institute for Social Sexological Research Library [NISSO] as well as Homodok-Lesbian Archives Amsterdam [Homodok-LAA], a gay and lesbian archive. 

The Interviews

During my discussions with the librarians, I would take handwritten notes on a clipboard.   I had informed them of my interests in the classification of their sexually explicit materials, but didn't have a specific list of questions to ask each person.  Rather, I allowed the important topics to emerge over each individual interview. Lessons learned from earlier interviews were used to add sophistication to later talks.  I took notes on both questions I asked and answers they gave me, noting when I was quoting passages verbatim.  When I use quote marks in discussing interviews in this paper, these refer to these verbatim notes. 

After the interview I would use the handwritten notes to jog my memory as I typed detailed field notes of the conversation and my impressions into my laptop computer.  This would occur as soon as possible afterwards; in my hotel room, in a library, on the airplane, or wherever else I could get uninterrupted hours to reconstruct the conversation. 

I did not tape record the interviews because we were walking around viewing materials, and I did not want to be that intrusive.  Reconstructing conversations from field notes seemed an appropriate method for the needs of this study. 

I went over the notes several times and added things as they were later remembered.  I printed them out and went over the printouts multiple times.  Then, I wrote interesting passages on cards.  Some topics immediately emerged as a way to analyze the conversations.  I started tracking the topics, which included such headers as: terms, formats, genres, gossip, proper user behaviors, indexing of journal articles, new terms added to thesauri, places of conflict or disagreement with the subject analysis practices of other sexuality libraries or thesauri or classifications; arrangement of materials; pedophilia in particular; and the image of the librarian to users and to law enforcement.  I have much, much more information than can be presented in this thesis. 

Documents Gathered

Using the book and article descriptions, published documents, and the library websites, I collected examples the thesauri used by these different libraries.  As I visited collections, I examined and gathered examples of their unpublished thesauri, updates, printouts and electronic copies of finding aids, classifications, handouts, hand-drawn maps, collection development policies, and other documentary materials.  Librarians also mailed and emailed me further documents, sometimes with my request and sometimes with proactive helpfulness.  I also gathered library websites on a page of links, which I added to and consulted extensively throughout the visiting and writing process.

Classification vs. Subject Analysis

I started off the study by questioning librarians “How do you classify your “pornography” and other sexually explicit materials?”  I was guided by a conception presented by Bowker and Star in their book Sorting Things Out.

[a] classification is a spatial, temporal, or spatio-temporal segmentation of the world.  A “classification system” is a set of boxes (metaphorical or literal) into which things can be put to then do some kind of work - bureaucratic or knowledge production."[13] 

However, I quickly discovered that asking practicing librarians how they "classify" sexually explicit materials was not correctly communicating what I hoped to find out.  “Classification” questions would generate a dismissive discussion specifically about the location of materials on shelves using systems of notation.  Again and again the different librarians would answer the “classification” question by saying it didn’t matter where the item sat on a shelf, as long as there was good cataloging with keyword and subject access. 

To practicing librarians, “subject analysis,” or using a thesaurus to assign subject headings, is closer to the idea of building and using a “set of boxes” into which the sexually explicit materials could be placed.  I had to change the wording of my question and the title of this paper to “subject analysis” in order to take this into account. 

The Word “Pornography”

As mentioned in the introduction, there is a problem with using the word "pornography."  The boundaries as to what does and does not count as pornography are unclear.  In addition, the word “pornography” itself has a negative valence.  Cornog warned me of this in an early email communication, saying

be careful about your terminology.  “Pornography” is not a label welcomed by people who produce sexually explicit materials for recreational consumption.  “Erotica” may be useful instead.[14]

This definition of “pornography” as the negative implications of sexually explicit materials, while “erotica” holds the place of positive implications, is an important sociotechnical differentiation.  For instance much of the anti-pornography vs. pro-sex / anti-censorship debate revolves around the definition of these two terms. 

My interests are in the concrete, and what I discovered talking to most of these librarians about their collections is that their libraries do not carry "pornography" at all, but rather "erotica," "evidence of sexual expressiveness" or "historical documents."  Asking a librarian about the “pornography” in their collection would often result in a quick denial; they did not carry “pornography.”  Many of my respondees did not consider their sexually explicit materials to be “pornographic” and refused to use this label. 

Every librarian I spoke to discussed, some with great philosophical or practical detail, how they endeavored to contextualize their sexually explicit materials.  Assigning subject headings that provide a context for the sexually explicit materials in the collection is part of the scientific taming “work” that these thesarui do.  This is comparable to a public library in the United States holding Mein Kampf or The Protocols of the Elders of Zion as cultural expressions that require explanation, not as the things themselves.  The “pornography” is not held as the things themselves, meant to arouse prurient interest, or even to arouse at all -- but rather as a cultural expression worthy of scholarly, scientific study. 

In the interviews, I tried to solve this "pornography" word problem by allowing the librarians themselves to use whatever terms they wanted, while I used vague terms such as "this stuff" or "these materials" in order to cue them.  What I found with this strategy, however, was a set of people much more talented than I at using vague "this stuff" turns of phrase.  I found that sexuality librarians are cautious about questions.  Sometimes “the nature of the question itself is a kind of perversion,” said one librarian.   For example, a valid-sounding reference question can deteriorate into a situation with the questioner just wanting to pontificate about some aspect of sexuality. 

In other words, that I am going to their libraries and trying to get them to talk about "pornography" with me is in itself a suspect activity.  I would have to work with each librarian to ease their concerns about my motivations and intentions.  During our talk the roles would invariably switch, and the librarian would question me not only about what I was trying to get at, but particularly about what portions of their collection I was interested in looking at, what kinds of materials I personally collected, and by implication whether I was a member of any particular community of sexual practice.  I answered their questions candidly and eased their concerns about my intentions, which were carefully constructed as informed, scholarly, and scientific.

Additions to Subject Headings

One of my questions that generated interesting results was asking the librarians about recent additions to their subject heading list. I started just asking if they had ever had to add headings, a naïve question that generated looks of astonishment.  I realized that of course they had to add subject headings; a thesaurus is a living document that changes constantly with our dynamic world of knowledge, and requires frequent maintenance to keep it updated. 

Learning specific areas that were added and expanded illustrates how the world of sexuality changes, and with it the information needs of users.  Some of the specific areas that required additions are unsurprising.  AIDS of course is a new sexually explicit topic that has generated a huge amount of literature.  It was difficult to tell when AIDS first entered the literature how important a cultural force it was going to be.  Now an entire thesaurus is dedicated to AIDS materials, and many AIDS-related terms have been added to other tools.  Other new areas of interest in the various libraries include headings such as "Transsexuals," or “Transexuals,” "Gay marriage," and “Men who have sex with men.”  

Location on Shelves

Because of my confusing question, I found out more about classification (notation and the location of materials on shelves) than I expected.  Every librarian, though cognizant of the importance of browsing shelves, felt that a great set of subject headings plus a versatile online catalog was the best way to provide access to materials.  Where the books “live” on the shelves is a secondary consideration.  For instance, for libraries using the Dewey Decimal Classification system, classification numbers for the social organization of sexuality changed with a new edition.  Many librarians felt that the expense of retrospective classification—remarking and moving books to new locations--was not worth it, and preferred to rely on their catalogs to do this work.  “Be happy we have the materials at all,” suggested several librarians.

Another notable location issue came up at Homodok-LAA.  Their materials are alpha by author, according to archivist Jack van der Wel, because people would complain about adjacencies.  They would not want their activity, whatever it was, associated by nearness on the shelves to other activities they did not prefer.  “It’s a waste of time,” he said firmly.  “Use the catalog for subject access, then go to the shelf for the book.”  Of course this solution does not facilitate the converse problem of providing for browsing the shelves by topic.